SWF Storm, biznitches!

May 10, 2003

SWF STORM!!!!! for May 9th, 2003!!!!!!!!!!

Due Date: Friday @ 8 PM EST

Venue: The FleetCenter in Boston, Massachusetts!

OPENING PROMO

Nathaniel Kibagami returns!

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH

#1 CONTENDERSHIP TO THE US TITLE

Johnny Dangerous vs. Mike Van Siclen vs. Sean Atlas

HARDCORE GAMERS' CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE MATCH

NO-DQ FINISHER MATCH

Dace Night vs. Janus©

US TITLE MATCH

Michael Craven© vs. WildChild

SINGLES MATCH

Frost vs. Jay Dawg

HARDCORE MATCH

TNT vs. Beezel

SUBMISSIONS MATCH (NON-TITLE MATCH)

Neilsen of the Jungle vs. Danny Williams©

MAIN EVENT

HANDICAP MATCH

The Boston Strangler vs. Justice and Rule

Special Guest Referee: Tom Flesher

May 10, 2003

On a black screen, the SWF logo flashes briefly…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!

A brilliant burst of pyrotechnics sweeps down from the SmarksTron all the way to the ring, sending the sold-out Massachusetts crowd into a frenzy of cheers! The camera sweeps around the Fleet Center, capturing the fans and their signs on film: “Frost 11:32 Says Magic Light Penis”, “Wild & Dangerous!”, and a fair number of signs that read, “Welcome Back Strangler!”

The camera switches to the announcer’s table, where ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley sit. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to SWF Storm!” proclaims Stevens. “We are five days removed from Battleground, and the dust is still settling! Tom Flesher managed to retain his title against both Frost and TNT—“

”—in an unparalleled display of wrestling ability and mental acumen!” chirps Riley, prompting a disgusted look from his co-announcer. “Flesher’s two protégés also managed to retain the tag titles in the TLC triple threat, and as a reward for their hard work, our commissioner has given Justice and Rule the privilege of welcoming back the Boston Strangler in tonight’s main event!” snickers Riley. “And to make sure there’s no stretching of the rules on Strangler’s part, the Suicide King has appointed your superior and mine, heavyweight champion Tom Flesher as the special guest referee! It’s sure to be an exciting bout, Mark, don’t you think so?”

“Exciting for who, Riley? The Magnificent Seven and the commissioner?”

”And me, Mark. Don’t forget me.”

“I don’t think I could if I tried, Riley.” Stevens winks at the camera for the benefit of those watching at home. “But that’s the main event, and we’ve got a stacked show to get through before that! First off, we have a very special guest tonight – Nathaniel Kibagami, who surprised everyone, from the front office to the fans in the arena, on Sunday when he made his presence felt at Battleground! Kibagami will be coming out any moment now to address the fans, the incident with Janus, and hopefully his status as an SWF wrestler!”

Riley snorts a little as the arena lights go down. “His status? Mark, the man’s got more neck injuries than Flesher has title reigns. I’m surprised he’s going to be walking out here under his own power; I wouldn’t count on any sort of return to competition.”

”I hardly think Nathan’s a cripple, Riley. The way he handled Janus on Sunday is pretty strong evidence to the contrary. And by the way, Flesher’s only had one World title reign.”

”Well, I obviously meant total title reigns in his CAREER. I thought that was obvious.”

The arena goes completely dark, save for the SmarksTron, where a red ankh, surrounded by flames, dominates the screen. For about five seconds, there is total silence – only the low buzz of the crowd can be heard. The entrance lights, now colored a dark red to match the ankh above them, slowly begin to rise as “Forty-Six and Two” begins:

I’ve been crawling on my belly,

Clearing out what could’ve been,

I’ve been wallowing in my own confusing

Insecure delusions

For a piece to cross me over,

Or a word to guide me in…

At this point, the entrance lights are fully up and focused on the curtains…

I want to feel the changes coming down,

I want to know what I’ve been hiding…

A brilliant explosion of white pyrotechnics momentarily blinds the audience and obscures the top of the ramp. As the pyrotechnics fade, Nathaniel Kibagami comes striding the through the smoke left in their wake…and the crowd, in a word, explodes.

“Listen to that crowd, Riley!” exclaims Mark as best he can over the cheers and the music.

“I can’t hear a damn thing, Mark! Tell me when that god-awful song ends!” Riley screams back.

Nathaniel makes his way to ringside, nodding to a fan here and there as he passes by, and slides into the ring. He rolls to his feet and agilely springs onto the nearby second turnbuckle, where he assumes the familiar crucifix pose, illuminated eerily in red for a brief moment before the lights come up and “Forty-Six and Two” fades away.

Nathaniel hops off the turnbuckle and turns around just in time to catch a microphone tossed to him by one of the ring crew. He raises the mic to his lips…only to stop for a moment and listen to a chant coming down from the nosebleed seats.

KI-BA-GAM-I! *clap, clap, clapclapclap*

Riley shakes his head. “That’s a Pavlovian response, Mark. They’re just chanting for his entrance, that’s all. Two weeks from now they won’t remember he was here.”

”We’ll see about that, Riley. Give the man a chance to speak, would you?”

Kibagami waits for the chants to die down before speaking. “I appreciate that, Boston, I really do,” he says…and he is promptly silenced by another round of cheers.

“This is disgusting. The overrun at the end of the show is for the main event, not this crap.”

”Riley, he can’t exactly yell over 56,000 people. Give him a minute.”

Eventually, the crowd quiets down, and Kibagami resumes speaking. “Well, I suppose I’ll make this quick. I take it that everybody here saw what happened at Battleground?” A resounding cheer from the crowd seems to indicate that they have. “Sounds like you did,” Nathan grins. “Well, for those who may have missed it…let’s roll the tape, shall we?”

--

“What the hell…? That’s Nathaniel Kibagami!” exclaims Mark Stevens, and indeed it is. The former Clan member strides past the security guards, cane in hand. Nathaniel circles around to the announcer’s table and…slides into the ring.

“What is that idiot cripple doing in there? Janus just demolished three HEALTHY men. Kibagami doesn’t stand a chance in hell of getting that monster out of the –“

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

Three well-placed strikes with an all-too-familiar cane silence Bobby Riley and send the monstrous Janus back a step.

“Okay, maybe he can help the security guys get him out of the –“

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

Two shots to Janus’ left knee stagger the giant, sending him dangerously close to the ropes.

“Go on, Riley. I think you were about to say something funny.”

Janus throws a furious punch at his assailant, but Kibagami steps underneath the blow…

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

Drives his cane into Janus’ jaw, pirouettes gracefully on one foot and…

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

Delivers a final blow to the monster’s temple, sending him toppling out of the ring and into the waiting arms of the SWF security staff!

--

The camera switches back to the ring, where Kibagami stands with his back to the entrance. “I’m not here to waste anybody’s time, so I’ll make this quick. I came down to that ring because…” Kibagami hesitates a little before finishing his sentence. “I came down to the ring for my own reasons, and I think I made the right decision. That being said, however…”

“I’m still retiring as soon as my contract expires.”

Nathaniel grimaces a little as the boos rain down from the stands. “See, Mark?” Riley cackles. “I told you!”

“I know you’re disappointed,” says Kibagami, back in the ring. “But with the shape my neck is in, I simply can’t risk it. Sorry to have taken up so much of your time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think there’s a triple threat match coming up that you all are going to want to –“

"ALL ABOARD!! AH HAH HAH HAH!!"

“What the hell is this?” wonders Stevens as “Crazy Train” hits the speakers and a very angry Suicide King comes storming out from backstage. “What does our commissioner want out here?”

”He probably wants to toss that useless waste of roster space out of the ring himself.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” King growls into his mic, ignoring the boos from the Fleet Center crowd as he climbs through the ring ropes. “Retirement? You’re out of your damn mind, my friend,” barks the commissioner, getting right in Kibagami’s face as he does so. “Oh, no you’re not. You’ve got two months left on that contract of yours, and you’re not going to spend it sitting at home. If you’re not going to wrestle, then you’re going to be suspended without pay!”

Kibagami simply smiles at the commissioner. “Okay,” he says.

“Good,” breathes King. “Now, later on tonight, you’ll be facing—“

”No, no, no. You misunderstand. I meant, okay, suspend me.” Kibagami grins a little as the crowd pops for his nonchalant response.

“Nathaniel Kibagami doesn’t seem too concerned with the commissioner, Riley, and the crowd is eating it up with a spoon!”

“Hmph,” says Riley. “If Flesher wasn’t so busy tonight, I’d expect him to come out here and put a stop to this nonsense.”

”I doubt he’d come out in his singlet, you know.”

”So what?” Riley turns from the camera slightly as he starts to blush.

Back in the ring, King is visibly agitated by Kibagami’s flippant demeanor. “You…you think you can just…” The commissioner takes a deep breath, composing himself before continuing. “You think it’s acceptable to back out of your contract? Your commitment to this federation? You think it’s all right to walk out of here because you’re scared? Because that’s what this is, ladies and gentlemen,” says the Suicide King, turning to address the crowd now. “This is simply a case of stage fright on Nathaniel Kibagami’s part.”

”Are you people familiar with spinal fusion surgery? Of course you’re not,” says the commissioner with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I keep forgetting we’re in Boston. Now then, when a wrestler has a severe neck injury, or a chronic neck problem, spinal fusion surgery is what they have done to repair the damage. Now, without getting overly technical with you…people, the standard recovery time for that sort of surgery is about a year, give or take a couple of months. However, your friend and mine, Nathaniel Kibagami –“ King gestures at Nathan, who looks unimpressed with King’s speech thus far – “Had a slightly modified form of this surgery preformed after Clusterfuck. A form of surgery which takes about six weeks to recover from.”

Mark Stevens looks incredulous, and most of the fans do too. “So he’s saying that Kibagami can wrestle?”

”It sounds like it, Mark, and I’m just as surprised at you.” Riley thinks for a minute. “Hey, Nathan’s not a cripple! He’s just a pussy! Okay, now I understand. Go ahead, King.”

“So Kibagami can wrestle, though I use the word as loosely as possible,” quips King, “But he’s choosing not to. This is your glorious return, ladies and gentlemen. This is all you’re going to see from Nathaniel Kibagami, because he’s too concerned about his own neck, quite literally, to come out here and do his job in front of –“

Suddenly, “Resurrection” hits the speakers, stunning the commissioner into silence for a brief moment! Before the Suicide King can collect his wits, Janus comes striding through the curtains, cutting a truly imposing figure against the Storm backdrop. “Janus is here! Janus is out here, and he does not look happy in the slightest!” yells Mark as the Magnificent Seven’s monolith comes down the entrance ramp, murder in his eyes.

“Hold on just one goddamned minute!” yells the commissioner as Janus places one mammoth hand on the top rope. “If you so much as set FOOT in this ring, you will be fired, you will be arrested for trespassing, and I will press charges, so help me God! I make the matches here, not you! I decide who fights who and when they fight, not you! You and Nathan will fight when I decide to allow it, and not a moment before! “ screams the Suicide King…but Janus does not release his grip on the rope.

"A tense situation here, Riley. Janus looks like he wants to murder Nathan where he stands, but the commissioner has delivered his ultimatum!"

"Janus is smart enough to back off. Right? Aren't you? JANUS?"

Whether the giant can hear Riley or not, he puts his other hand on the rope and steps up onto the apron. Before the Suicide King can yell at him again to back off, yet another song hits the speakers. Rage Against The Machine's "Testify" blazes out, prompting a shower of boos as William Hearford runs out from behind the curtain and towards the ring, stepping up onto the apron as well.

"Janus. Cool off. You'll get your shot at him later. King's got the right idea."

The giant just stares down at the Judge, who continues.

"You might've wandered off course a bit, but you're still a member of the Magnificent Seven and we look after our own." stresses Hearford. "So calm down and come backstage..."

"Did you see what he did to me, Hearford?" Janus rumbles ominously.

"Yes...we all saw him, Janus. But trust me - now isn't the time or place for this sort of thing. We can take care of this later, man. We can take care of this as a group—“

”NO GROUPS!” shouts the giant. “He…is MINE.”

”Okay, okay, that’s fine, Janus, he’s yours,” says the Judge, doing his best to placate his stablemate. “But you’ll get him later, in a match, okay? You will get him later – but NOT right now.”

“Besides, Janus,” says Kibagami from the far turnbuckle, “I don’t think our beloved commissioner would be very happy about you getting your ass kicked on free TV.” Nathaniel grins impishly at the giant as the crowd pops.

“Is he insane?” wonders Stevens. “Kibagami’s blatantly trying to…trying to provoke Janus!”

Janus, enraged, grabs hold of the rope with his other hand…then stops, an odd expression on his face as he looks at Nathan.

Without a word, the giant turns and walks back up the ramp to the entrance curtains, where Hearford stands waiting, a curious expression on his face.

“Well…a tense situation seems to have been diffused, and Kibagami’s status as an active wrestler is…I think it’s still in question as long as Janus is around, Riley.”

“Too true, Stevens. Stick around, folks! We’ve got a triple threat match for the #1 contendership to the United States title, coming up next!”

The camera gets a shot of Janus standing at the top of the ramp before starwiping to a commercial…

May 10, 2003

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We return from the break to our articulate announcers, ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, seated at their ringside table.

Stevens: Welcome back to Storm, folks. If you’re just tuning in, you’re right on time for our first bout of the night – a triple threat match to decide the number one contender to the US Title.

Riley: All three guys were, and still are, losers at Battleground. Time to weed out the best of the worst in tonight’s curtain jerker!

Stevens: And on that... eloquent note, let’s get this thing rolling.

The arena suddenly goes dark, just as the notes to "Heaven's a Lie" by Lacuna Coil play through the arena. Blinding white light shines through the grating on the ramp, illuminating the set as the soft notes play on. The Smarktron shows Sean Atlas' elaborate crucifix entrance from Battleground, meanwhile a gradually louder electric guitar brings the start of the song to a climax...

!*BOOM*!

A colossal explosion goes off onstage leaving behind a misty haze of smoke. As it dissipates, the silhouette of a man appears which is soon revealed to be Sean Atlas. He walks down the ramp, his masked countenance staring out into the crowd with confidence while the fans jeer him. He has something behind his back, though we can’t see it yet. Funyon then does his thing...

“The following triple threat match is set for one fall and is to determine the number one contender to the United States Championship! Introducing first, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 240 pounds... SEEEAAAAN ATLAS!”

By now Sean has run down into the ring. Walking along the ropes inside the squared circle, Atlas stares out into the crowd, measuring how they feel about him. Not loud enough, he thinks. Not passionate enough. He then takes the object he’s been hiding and places it on his head.

“BBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Riley: A Yankee hat! That’s brilliant!

Stevens: Cheap heat, Riley. Very cheap heat.

The crowd gives it to Atlas as he throws the cap off towards the announcers. Getting his desired reaction, he waits as his music quickly fades and he turns towards the entranceway, awaiting his next opponent.

TING! TING! TING! TING!

The four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that begin “Damage Done” by Dark Tranquility blast throughout the arena while the lights fade to black and blue strobes begins to flash in time with the music. Mike Van Siclen steps onto the ramp, his arms extending in a bent crucifix under his acid-green jacket. He spins around the on the ramp, grinning like a madman as he breaks out of his spin cycle and steps cockily down the entrance ramp. Funyon gets to work again...

“And his opponent, on his way to the ring from Harrison, Illinois, he weighs in at 237 pounds... MIKE. VAN. SIIICCLLEN!”

Sliding into the ring and extending his arms to the side, Mike drops his arms and lets his jacket slide off to the mat. The referee, Billy Chiota, picks it up as Mike runs over to the ropes, balancing on the second one and yelling at the crowd to fire them up.

Stevens: Great reaction from the Bostonians at MVS.

Riley: What do they know? Van Siclen was defeated by Michael Craven. I’m surprised they’re not throwing tomatoes his way.

The lights come back on as Van Siclen turns towards Atlas, looking him up and down as if to measure his competition. Standing at the same height and basically the same weight, the two men look awfully similar as they approach one another. Suddenly the theme from “Mission Impossible 2” by Limp Bizkit rocks out from the massive wall to wall sound system as a colorful array of lights illuminates the fans. Johnny strides from backstage and onto the ramp without a care in the world, taking the time to wink at a few ladies in the crowd. Cue Funyon...

“And their opponent, hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at 210 pounds... JOHNNY “THE BARRACUDA” DANGEROUS!!!

Stevens: It’s a great night for Wild and Dangerous, as Johnny gets a shot at contendership while Wildchild could win the title later on tonight!

Riley: Imagine what’ll happen if they both win and end up having to face each other. Chaos!

Stevens: We’ll see what happens, Bobby.

Dangerous gets to the ring and walks right to the two men he’s about to compete with. Atlas and MVS are busy having an intense staredown, which Johnny separates in that... investigative manner. Atlas looks at him, back at Mike, then back at Dangerous again and before he knows it, Johnny gets LEVELED with a massive clothesline, starting the match off!

DING DING!

Stevens: Sean Atlas, getting this thing underway in a hurry.

After knocking Dangerous down, Atlas turns around to face Van Siclen, but Mike has moved from the spot he was at just a moment ago, and now stands behind Atlas, about to grab him. He hooks Sean’s leg, then supports his back as he lifts and slams him down with a Backdrop Suplex.

Meanwhile, Dangerous has come to his feet and to Sean Atlas. He lifts the masked man up and sends him running at the ropes. Sean bounces off while Mike stands up, stepping in front of the waiting Johnny Dangerous. As Atlas comes near, Mike suddenly drops down to the mat and makes sure to trip Atlas up... then sends him down with a drop toe hold. Mike causes Atlas to fall right at Johnny, who instinctively catches him. Then, given a great opportunity, he takes Atlas by the neck and once hooking it, falls to the mat himself, hitting a DDT!

Stevens: A sign of teamwork from Johnny Dangerous and Van Siclen here, as Atlas becomes the victim of it early.

Riley: Typical of them, ganging up on the guy the fans are against. This is why I don’t like three ways.

Stevens: Really? I would think you love three ways. Especially when two guys gang up on...

Riley: Don’t even finish that sentence.

Mike and Johnny stand up, focusing their attention on Atlas. Their teamwork seems to be a bit uncoordinated as they each try to Irish whip Atlas in different directions, finally settling on a mutual one. Sean collides with the ropes again, then bounces off heading at both men. They stand side by side as he returns and go after him with double clotheslines...

But Atlas baseball slides down, slithering between the two men as they step forward. Atlas staggers up and attacks them both from behind, grabbing each man by one foot and pulling back, executing a double rear leg takedown! He steps closer to Mike, standing over him and wrapping his arms around MVS’s waist, trying to get his grip on tighter.

Stevens: Atlas seems to be trying the Wheelbarrow Suplex!

Riley: But don’t forget the other man in the ring!

Seemingly, Atlas did forget, and it costs him as Johnny Dangerous, once on his feet, turns and sends a swift spinning heel kick directly into Sean Atlas’ head! Atlas goes down on his back, cradling his face while Dangerous drops on top of him, covering for the pin....

...O...N...E...

...T...W... NO!

Atlas hastily kicks out just before Van Siclen tried to make the save. Johnny backs off and stands up, pulling Sean up with him. He stands to his side, interlocking their legs to set up a Russian Leg Sweep.... but Atlas fights it, sending some hard elbows into the face of the Barracuda. He escapes the side leg lock, then reverses it, locking his behind Johnny’s. However, to his side, Mike Van Siclen has bounced off the ropes and heads for Atlas just as he’s about to take Johnny down with a Russian Leg Sweep of his own...

And MVS times it perfectly as he jumps, latches on to Atlas head and brings him down with a swinging neckbreaker while he’s sweeping Johnny down! The fans cheer The Spectacle as he stands up, celebrates for one moment and returns to his opponents.

Stevens: Great job by Van Siclen, causing a domino effect by using a Neckbreaker on Atlas in mid-move.

Riley: What a backstabber - working with Johnny one minute, then against him the next.

Stevens: It’s a triple threat, Bobby. Alliances form and break every minute.

Mike brings Atlas to his feet and stands facing him. He takes Sean by the head and puts on a front face lock. While Johnny comes to his feet, Mike lifts the masked man he’s holding off his feet, then quickly causes him to impact the mat with a Snap Suplex. He stands up while Dangerous, already standing over Atlas places his boot on Sean’s face and steps over him, wiping the crap from his footwear all over Atlas’ mask.

Riley: Hey now, none of that here. It’s a wrestling match, Johnny.

Stevens: Like you’ve never done that.

Riley: *I* am not the one in question here, baseball boy.

Mike and Johnny once again join forces as they bring Atlas to his feet. Taking him by the hands, they whip him into one of the corners as Mike follows behind him. Atlas crashes into it back first as Mike comes up to him, face-to-face, grabs him by the head and sits down, busting Sean’s face on his shoulder with a Sitout Jawbreaker!

Atlas reels in the corner, recoiling back into the pads while Johnny climbs the corner on the opposite side. Mike turns around to check on him and decides to use Johnny’s ideas to his advantage. He takes Atlas by the arm and pulls him back, just as Johnny stands atop the top rope and leaps off...

But Atlas reverses!

*CRASH*

Stevens: Oh my! Johnny Dangers’ plan backfired as Mike Van Siclen couldn’t escape a reversal by Sean Atlas, causing the Barracuda to hit a Missile Dropkick into the surprised face of Van Siclen!

Riley: Serves them right, too. That’s what happens when you try to work together and be selfish about it, boys. It’s “karma”, it all “comes around”.

Stevens: Can you not do those air-quotes, Bobby?

Riley: Sorry.

A slowly tiring Atlas comes to his feet as the only man in the ring that’s standing... except for the referee, of course. He soon notices Johnny standing up, facing away from him. Stepping over the downed Van Siclen, Sean gets to the Barracuda and quickly locks his arm in a half-nelson. Before Johnny spins around and out of it, Atlas takes the other arm with a Chickenwing and locks them both behind Dangerous. Leaning back, Atlas pops his hips and carries the 210 pounder over his head and back to the mat with one of his more stylized Suplexes, the Tequila Sunrise!

The Fleet Center crowd jeers as their favorite spy gets taken down. Meanwhile, Atlas stands and goes over to Mike, who is nearly doubled over at the moment. But being the nice guy that he is, Sean Atlas helps his stand upright with a swift and clean shop to the chest!

*Smack*

Mike’s upper body comes back up as he watches Atlas’ arm come at him once more...

*Smack*

He reels back and gets another...

*Smack*

His back almost to the ropes and Atlas finishes him off with a...

...wait for it...

*SMACK*

Leaning on the ropes now, Mike is powerless as Atlas takes both of his hands and pulls, turning him as he does so. His back to Atlas now, Mike’s hands are crossed in front of his chest and he realizes he’s about to suffer the impact of a Straightjacket Suplex. Knowing this kind of offence all too well, Mike spins back around before Atlas executes the move, facing the masked man again.

Van Siclen now turns Atlas around in the same way that he was just spun, except he keeps Atlas arms crossed around the neck. Checking on Johnny, who is just coming to his feet, Mike moves himself and Atlas forward a bit, then pulls his feet off the mat and drops, taking Sean Atlas with him with a Crossface Halo!

Stevens: Wonderful reversal by Mike Van Siclen, turning Atlas’ move into a similar one of his own... and he’s pulling his legs back, going for the cover!

...O...N...E....

Riley: Heeeerreeee’s Johnny!

...T...W...O...

NO! The boot of Johnny Dangerous comes flying into the face of Van Siclen, a strong martial arts kick getting in there! MVS is knocked off Sean Atlas while Johnny, clearly in this for himself, focuses on the already harmed Sean Atlas. He gets the masked man standing and using his arm, whips him into the ropes. Atlas bounces and returns to Johnny, who leaps in the air to try a Hurricanrana...!

But the incredibly aware Sean Atlas ducks down low, escaping the Rana and runs under it. He hits the ropes and springs right off, going after Johnny once again... Atlas leaps, going for a Lou Thesz Press!!

Riley: Thesz Pre...

Stevens: No! Johnny Kick by Johnny Dangerous!

But the Barracuda proves he’s the faster man as he thrusts his leg out into Sean’s face, brining him back down to earth, to the mat and to reality. He prepares to go for the cover but notices Mike Van Siclen coming to his feet. Working quickly, he gets Atlas to stand early, leaving him doubled over. He then back away and runs towards the ropes adjacent to Sean Atlas.

While he bounces off, Van Siclen runs towards him with Atlas in between the two. The men meet in the middle of the squared, circle, watching each other as they simultaneously leap in the air, extending their legs over the head of Sean Atlas...

And the BOTH SLAM HIM DOWN with Guillotine Leg Drops!!!

Stevens: Incredible! Van Siclen Guillotine, combined with a Guillotine Face Driver from Johnny! Will that afford one of them a win here?

Riley: Depends if one of them lets the other go for a cover~!

From his knees, Van Siclen, flips Atlas over onto his back. Johnny, being the sneaky spy agent that he is, slips in and hooks Atlas’ leg for the cover, giving Mike just the opportunity he was looking for. Before Billy Chiota can even start the count, Van Siclen pulls Johnny off Atlas holding him by the head with both hands. He leads him away from their downed opponent, then falls forward, slamming his head against the mat!

Stevens: The Spectacle hits a Two-Handed Facebuster as the hazy teamwork between himself and Johnny D finally falls apart.

Riley: About time.

Checking up on Atlas, still down and just in the early stages of getting up, Mike continues his assault on Johnny, Putting on a facelock while he gets him standing, Mike comes to his own feet and lifts Johnny off the mat. Holding him in a DDT position, MVS calls out the name of the maneuver he’s about to inflict upon the Barracuda...

“CODE RED!”

The crowd reacts with a shout of approval as Mike turns and slaps his arm against Johnny’s neck and back, driving his face into the mat!

Stevens: Reminiscent of Babe Ruth himself, Van Siclen calls his shot and hits it!

Riley: What the hell are you doing? You can’t mention the Babe in this town! They’ll strangle you! Or one guy will, anyway.

Stevens: Duly noted.

MVS checks up on Atlas once again before trying a cover. Finding him almost standing, he realizes that pinning Johnny right now isn’t the best of ideas. He rushes towards Sean unnoticed and quickly scoops him up, flips him over, then slams him back down with a Powerslam. The sustained cheer from the fans continues for Van Siclen as he soaks it all in, feeding on the energy they exert.

Standing by Atlas’ feet with Johnny behind him, Van Siclen puts his foot between Sean’s legs. Grabbing hit feet, Mike pulls back on the legs, stretching Atlas out in a most uncomfortable way.

Stevens: It’s your favorite move, the Rectal stretch! Mike Van Siclen is just on fire tonight.

Riley: Yeah, he’s pretty hot.

Stevens: What?

Riley: Nothing. I said it’s pretty hot...here...now. Yeah.

Stevens: (nervously nodding) Uh huh.

MVS continues to stretch Atlas out, pulling his legs with more force than a donkey pulls a plow. Meanwhile behind him, Johnny is getting to his feet, actually using the ropes for a bit of leverage. Van Siclen turns around and sees it, then changes his grip on Sean’s legs and takes his foot out of his ass. He rapidly falls back, pulling Atlas up with a catapult and lets him go flying into Johnny!

Stevens: Sean Atlas collides with the Barracuda!

Riley: The wrestler, not an actual Barracuda.

Stevens: Ahem.

Atlas bounces off him, stumbling backwards to Mike, who sits up on the mat behind him. Using his convenient position, MVS slides a hand between Atlas’ legs, excites Bobby Riley, and flips Sean over with a School Boy...!!!

...O...N...E...

...T...W...O...

...T...H...R...NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Riley: Sean Atlas gets a shoulder up, escaping the quick cover by The Spectacle!

Stevens: It’s only a matter of time before one of these guys sneaks in a win. They’re past the point where falls are broken up by the third guy. It’s all up to your own vitality now.

Mike rolls over onto his back, catching his breath for a bit. The crowd claps for him, cheering the guy on as he rises to his feet. The catapult into Johnny knocked him back down, as the collision between him and Atlas did now go well. Mike takes Sean by the hand and gets him standing. Pulling on the arm, Mike whips Atlas off into the ropes. He bounces off, checked on Johnny – still down, but near the corner – and returns to Van Siclen, whose leg is quickly on its way up.

And Atlas catches it! Atlas immediately slowed down making sure to catch the leg before it hits him in the face. He leans in, trying to latch onto MVS for a Leg Capture Suplex, but Mike fights it, escaping the face lock. Hit leg is still trapped though, and Atlas takes advantage of it by falling to the mat and snapping him over with a Dragon Screw Legwhip!

Riley: Great approach by Sean, being highly adaptive in situations like that.

Stevens: He reacted well, but only because Mike fought him off.

Atlas immediately stands up, not wasting any time. He pulls Mike to his feet and whips him towards the ropes.... but doesn’t let him go. MVS returns to him, about to be set up in a Belly-to-Belly hold, but he ducks down, sidestepping away and spins around behind Atlas, latching on in a Belly-to-Back position. His arm is still attaches to Sean’s though, so before Van Siclen lifts, Atlas drops down, slips through his legs and comes out behind him!

Atlas stands, holding Mike’s arm through his legs. He slides his other arm under Mike’s and prepares to hit a Stretch Suplex. But no matter how many times it happens, Atlas still doesn’t stop using it as Van Siclen avoids it and floats right on over, landing on his feet!

Stevens: Some intriguing chain wrestling going on between these two, Riley.

Riley: I can feel this match climaxing already...

As Atlas turns around, spinning one way, MVS spins in the other direction, wrapping Atlas arm around his own neck. Since he uses the same type of move, Atlas quickly sneaks out of his arm and uses mike’s own spinning motion against him, wrapping Van Siclen in HIS own arm! But the Spectacle continues to rotate, pulling Atlas into the same hold, and now both men, their arms interlocked, have their own arms around their necks!

And they both drop down!

*SLAM*

Stevens: What a predicament! Van Siclen hit his Blackjack Neckbreaker while Sean Atlas executed the Immaculate Neckbreaker, the very same maneuver!

Riley: An ironic coincidence!

Stevens: And it couldn’t have come at a worse time as Johnny Dangerous finally comes to his feet!

Standing in the corner, Johnny Dangerous realizes both men are down. Working quickly, he climbs to the top rope, getting the crowd excited as he does so. Extending his legs, Dangerous leaps off...

And lands an elbow drop on the Spectacular MVS! Mike being the closer man ended up taking the move as Johnny covers him for the sneaky win...!!!

...O...N...E...

...

...T...W...O...

...T...H...R...E............NO!

Stevens: HE KICKED OUT! Van Siclen kicked out despite two consecutive moves to the neck, and now he remains vulnerable as Johnny doesn’t waste any time before getting up.

The pace speeds up as Johnny gets to his feet. He checks on Atlas who, for whatever reason is still down. Dangerous grabs Mike’s arm and forces him into the corner, back first against the pads. The Barracuda then dashes past him and onto the ropes, throwing an arm in front of MVS’s neck. Putting on an Inverted Facelock as he reaches the top, Johnny gets the fans to their feet...!

Stevens: Here it comes, Riley! The Cover Up is on its way!

Riley: Not if Atlas has anything to say about it!

Johnny sits up, preparing to flip over and finish Mike off with The Cover Up, but can’t do it when Sean Atlas charges from the opposite corner...!!

Riley: He’s going after Van Siclen!!!

Atlas lunges at The Spectacle...

But MVS sidesteps out of the way! Sean Atlas meets nothing but the turnbuckle pads that supported Johnny Dangerous, causing the Barracuda to lose his footing and fall onto the corner crotch-first! Van Siclen quickly takes Atlas around the waist locks his wrists together in front of Sean then pops his hips and lifts...

Stevens: German Suplex! Atlas is down again!

Riley: MVS is just tearing the place up with his lightning fast offence.

Stevens: And listen to this crowd!

The fans’ sustained cheer doesn’t die down as Mike stands up and walks back over to Johnny, still on top. He turns around, his back to the Barracuda, and reaches over him to grab him. Taking him under the arms, Mike pulls Dangerous forward and down, sliding him down in front...

Stevens: Can you feel it, Bobby? Boston feels it, and Johnny Dangerous is about to feel it... it’s the Riot Act!!

Riley: He’s almost in position!!!

Van Siclen, his arms latches around Johnny’s body, steps over his arms to lock The Barracuda in place. Adrenaline rushes through him as the noise made by the crowd reaches its zenith and captivates MVS in the moment. He swiftly takes his feet off the mat, bends his legs around Johnny’s arms even tighter...

...AND DRIVES JOHNNY DANGEROUS INTO THE MAT!!!

Stevens: HE HIT IT! MIKE VAN SICLEN DESTROYS THE BARRACUDA!

Riley: Not yet, Mark!!!

Before the fans can even recover from the impact of the Riot Act, their hero of the moment, Mike Van Siclen, is in danger yet again. Just as he drops the rest of Johnny’s body to the mat and prepares to flip him onto his back, the sprinting form of Sean Atlas rushes directly at him and dives over Dangerous...

TO PULVERIZE VAN SICLEN WITH A GUT WRENCHING SPEAR!!!

Riley: Holy hell, Mark! Van Siclen’s body just snapped back!

Stevens: He nearly got driven right back into the corner from Atlas’ spear. I’m surprised he’s still in this! That was Mike’s victory directly in front of him and Sean Atlas just took it away!

A Mike lies in a near fetal position after taking Sean’s spear, Atlas immediately stands up, albeit slowly as he’s suffered quite a bit tonight as well. He quickly grabs Spectacular Siclen by the head and forces him to stand while leaving Johnny where he is. Atlas then lowers his shoulder a bit and grabs hold of Mike’s leg with one hand, along with his arm using the other...

Riley: What’s he doing? Is he setting up a DVD??

Stevens: I think he is! That’s his finisher that we nearly saw him hit at Battleground!

Riley: I remember this... it’s uh... it’s called...!

Atlas positions Mike over across his back and holds him in place, taking in the loathing of the fans. He turns around, positioning himself so that the downed body of Johnny Dangerous is to his side, the same side that Van Siclen’s head is on...

And he jumps!

He drops!

AND LANDS ON THE MAT, DRIVING MVS’ HEAD INTO THE CHEST OF JOHNNY DANGEROUS WITH THE...

Riley: SAINT’S DEMISE! THAT’S IT!

Stevens: RIGHT INTO THE BODY OF THE BARRACUDA!

Atlas lets Mike’s legs drop to the mat as he rolls him away, making sure no part of him is left touching Johnny. Dangerous, meanwhile, lets out a horrible cry, naturally grabbing his chest in anguish. But his legs are soon hooked, and his chest targeted again as Atlas buries his back into it, making the cover....

...O...N...E...

...

...T...W...O...

...

TTTTTHHHHHHRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DING DING DING!!!

Riley: SEAN ATLAS WINS THE MATCH!

Stevens: He pinned Johnny Dangerous and beat former US champion Mike Van Siclen, now holding the number one contendership to the belt!

“The winner of this bout, and your new number one contender to the United States Championship... SEEAAAAN ATLAS!”

Stevens: The fans don’t seem to like it very much, and quite frankly, neither do I, Bobby.

“Heaven’s a Lie” blasts up again as Billy Chiota raises Atlas’ hand in the air.

Riley: Why not? The guy had a great idea about how to finish the match off and went through with it. I like this young buck more already.

Stevens: You liking a young man. Why am I not surprised?

Riley: ... you never stop, do you?

Stevens: Nope. But I do need to take a break, as do the rest of us. But when we return, make sure you stay with us for a Hardcore Gamers Title match between The High Priest of Horrorcore Dace Night, and the champion Janus!

Riley: That’s not what I meant, I was just...

Stevens: Let it go.

May 10, 2003

The Boston Strangler sits on a chair backstage, his head in his hands as he rocks slightly back and forth. Ben Hardy comes stepping through the door into the locker room and sees Strangler sitting alone, mumbling to himself. “C’mon Gus, time to get this Strangler piece done with” says Hardy as they walk over to the big Bostonian. The fans in the FleetCenter echo down through the tunnels as Strangler appears on the SmarkTron™. As Hardy approaches, the mic picks up some of Strangler’s mumblings.

“Gotta show them…gotta show them…one big chance…can’t fail…can’t fail…hey, what the fuck are you guys doing here?” Strangler glares at Ben Hardy, who has a surprised look on his face at the sudden change of moods by Strangler, who looks extremely hostile at the moment.

“Um, Mr. Strangler, you scheduled this interview time in order to talk directly to the fans. You wanted to explain your absence for the last few months. Remember?”

“I remember, I remember. I’m not some stupid five year old. Now lemme get the mic.” Strangler snatches the mic from Ben Hardy, who just sits back with a sigh. “Well…it’s good to be back, and it feels even better to be back in Boston. I can’t explain how great it is to have all these fans around here wishing me well. As you know, my life has been kinda tough since September. The last time you folks saw me, Chris Wilson decided to lay me out with a steel chair. He was my leader, and my best friend, and he just turned on me and took me out. It hurts when you get betrayed like that. But that’s been the story of my life. Those few people who I trust are the ones who betray me. I must have lousy luck, or just lousy people skills, but whatever it is, my life hit rock bottom last September.”

“So after I left the SWF, I went into rehab. I hung out there for a few months, and I got cleaned up. That’s the one regret I have. The steroids were a huge problem. I did some stupid things when I was on those steroids…but that’s not the point. The point is that I had to get clean, and I finally did. But those people wanted to keep me around longer than I wanted to be around. I hated the SWF in September, and never wanted to come back. But after a few weeks, I needed to come back. It was what kept me going. Of course, our dearly departed Commish, Mr. McWeed, had decided to terminate my contract. Seems like Chrissy had to screw me at every turn. Fortunately, there was one good guy left in this joint. Mark Stevens got me my job back, and I’ll always be grateful to the guy for that.”

“Anyways, after that, I floated around Boston for a few months to get back into ring shape. I followed the SWF for a while, and kept my eye on a few things. Then, suddenly, I get a call from the Suicide King. He found out my contract had been on the books, and he was irate. He made me do that whole tag match thing with him…and that just wasn’t my thing. You see, King was just another guy who was gonna use me for his own personal gain. He was just like John Kruger and Spider Nekura and Thoth, he was just like Chris Wilson. I wanted a chance to come back and change many of the mistakes I made. If I had gone along with King, that woulda been just another trip down the same old path. That wasn’t gonna happen. I don’t care what the consequences are anymore. It’s time for Strangler to do what’s right for him!”

“Now, that brings me to the topic at hand. You see, I have a major problem with the man to whom Chris Wilson gave the job that was supposed to be mine: Tom Flesher. Tom Flesher is another one of those people. He uses those who happen to provide some service, and then they get tossed aside when it’s convenient for him. Look at his last match, over at Battleground. Who did he fight? Frost and TNT! Two of his old friends and stablemates! Tom Flesher embodies everything about the SWF that made it a bad place for me to be! He’s manipulative, he’s a control freak, he’s arrogant, he’s self-centered! Tom Flesher is just another one of the long line of people like Chris Wilson and Spider Nekura! But this time, things are gonna be different! Tom Flesher isn’t gonna have a chance to get away with this. I have a chance to stand up for the good this time. This time, Strangler isn’t gonna be some pathetic little tool of a manipulative SOB! I have a chance to stop Tom Flesher before he hurts someone else!”

“So Tom, I’ll see you in the ring tonight. And remember that your shit isn’t gonna fly around here anymore, Tom. I’m here now. Strangler has spoken.” With that, Strangler drops the mic in Ben Hardy’s lap and walks out the door. Hardy looks over at Gus and shrugs.

“Since when did he become such an idealistic guy?” Gus shakes his head in disbelief as he packs up the last of his equipment. “Whatever, Gus. Let’s just get out of here.” Hardy swings the door open and exits the room, with Gus close behind him. As Hardy turns down the hall, he notices Strangler in the corner, his head in his hands yet again. Strangler continues to mutter to himself as he hides his face in the palms of his hands. “OK…this is one messed-up guy” mutters Hardy to Gus before they turn around and disappear down the other end of a hallway.

May 10, 2003

The Smarktron fizzles, and we are treated to a view of the backstage area. Particularly, we are looking at where Ben Hardy and his ever lovable cameraman are standing - in this case outside a locker room. The door is slightly ajar and appears to have a crack running down it, as if it were slammed open with great force and left to close on its own.

"I'm Ben Hardy, and I'm here about to ask the new Hardcore Gamers Champion his thoughts on tonight's match..."

Tentatively Ben raises his hand and knocks on the door, but gets no reply. He hears noise within the room and knocks again, but once more gets no reply. A third knock involuntarily swings the door open, and the camera catches sight of a dimmed locker room, with a muscular figure hunched on a bench, staring at a monitor intently.

"Come in...Ben."

The low, ominous tone in Janus' voice sends shivers down the interviewer's spine. Slowly, with Gus in tow, he edges into the dimmed room, and Hardy opens his mouth. Janus turns his head to stare at the camera with eyes that are, somehow, a gleaming red, and he lifts a huge fist to warn them to be quiet for the moment as his attention goes back to the monitor. The camera focuses in on the action.....

Janus throws a furious punch at his assailant, but Kibagami steps underneath the blow…

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

Drives his cane into Janus’ jaw, pirouettes gracefully on one foot and…

FWOOOOOOOOSH! THUNK!

Delivers a final blow to the monster’s temple, sending him toppling out of the ring and into the waiting arms of the SWF security staff!

“What a display from Nathaniel Kibagami!” yells Mark Stevens above the roar of the crowd.

"Nathaniel...Kibagami...."

The words hiss out from Janus' throat like that of a snake, the giant's red eyes staring balefully at the screen where the videotape is paused, showing a shot of Kibagami standing in the ring complete with cane. The monster narrows his eyes, staring at the monitor for the longest moment. Then he turns around, rising to his feet in the same motion, looming over the quivering Ben Hardy and his cameraman.

"Uh....Ja....Janus...you....your words on...what you did...tonight...and your match...with Dace...?"

The giant cocks his head to one side, brushing the white hair away from his forehead. Freshly healed, yet scarred flesh becomes visible as he does so, and the giant continues his ominous glare at Ben Hardy. He doesn't look angry, nor ready to kill...but the expression leaves one wondering just what goes through the head of the Hell Machine. Finally, he speaks.

"Beezel felt it at Battleground, Hardy...just as Dace Night will feel it tonight..."

Ben opens his mouth, but the giant locks a hand firmly around his throat, making Hardy gurgle and turn an interesting shade of blue. Nonchantly choking the little interviewer, Janus turns his baleful eyes on the camera.

"...and Nathaniel Kibagami will feel it again in the future..."

Releasing Hardy's throat, the giant speaks again, his voice rising as if he's starting to lose his volatile temper once more.

"Do you HEAR ME!? BOTH OF YOU!!"

His voice drops for a moment as Hardy continues to wheeze and regain his breath - only to find himself falling over as Janus plants a palm on Ben and Gus' chests. The cameraman and interviewer are pushed out of Janus' locker room. Hardy falls on his ass, but Gus keeps his balance.

"Dace Night and Nathaniel Kibagami.....I promise you......"

And then he roars.

"You WILL FEEL MY RAGE UNLEASHED!!"

With a vicious grin at the camera, Janus turns around and slams the door behind him, the wooden construction shuddering on its hinges and the crack in the middle of it getting a little wider. Shaken and wide-eyed, Hardy turns his gaze to the camera, his voice little more than a shocked whisper.

"Next up...Dace Night and Janus for the Hardcore Gamers Title...."

And as we fade to black, Ben Hardy faints dead away, from shock.....

May 10, 2003

"Welcome back to SWF Storrrrrm ladies and gentlemen!" calls the voice of 'Grand Slam' Mark Stevens. The announcer himself is not in sight as the camera pans the crowd for signs, ones such as "Superiority > CCBB!" and "Janus Lost His Mind!". Further pirouetting and spinning about with the camera shows other signs, most of which are pretty bland "I'm With Stupid" and "Hi Mom!". The crowning sign that is spotted by the camera so far has a picture of Dace Night throwing the metal horns into the air and written next to it, "Horrorcore Owns Hardcore!". Finally, we are brought down to ringside to see the ever-lovable duo of Bobby Riley and the formerly mentioned 'Grand Slam' Mark Stevens.

"We've already had one match tonight, and seeing as we're coming off SWF Battleground, it looks like we have more great matches lined up!" bellows Stevens.

"We get to see Janus, who did something TOTALLY bizarre on the pay per view after winning back his Hardcore Gamers' Title, up against the pansy Dace Night, who scored a FLUKE WIN over Sean Atlas at Battleground!"

"Speaking of Janus and Dace, they've met one-on-one only once before...Janus defeated Dace in that match to become number one contender to the SJL Title."

"Janus is power! He is might! He's going to KILL Dace Night!" Riley's rhyme is... pathetic.

"......No kidding, Riley. Janus just totally SNAPPED after his match and was stopped by none other than Nathaniel Kibagami! You have to wonder how that's going to affect Janus toni-......"

'Grand Slam' trails off as every light in the arena fades out, leaving the fans in absolute darkness. They begin to boo as the faint strains of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" oozes out of the speakers, and the Smarktron shows the face of a young man with white hair, smiling and calm. Blue pyros begin to sprinkle up from the sides of the ramp, as the voice of Burton C. Bell echoes through the arena. As if in tune to the voice, cracks begin to form in the image, making it more and more indistinguishable.

'Consumed with memories...

That preceded todaaaaay...

Given a chance to bereave...

Life that's slipping aWAAAAAAAAAY!"

As soon as the heavy guitar riffs kick in, the picture shatters, showing Janus as he was after Battleground - roaring in rage, blood spattering his face, looking like a complete monster. Funyon, looking slightly pensive, rises to his feet as a spotlight shines on the stage entrance, which is swept aside as Janus stalks onto the ramp complete with his HCG title around his waist. His body appears to heal rather well, as the only signs of his brutal Battleground match is fresh scarring across his abdomen that lends his skin a rougher look. As he tosses his hair from his face, eyes of gleaming red catch the spotlight, and he stalks down the ramp towards the ring. Funyon finally opens his mouth.

"The following contest is....scheduled for ONE fall.....and is for the S...W....F....Hardcore Gamers Championship! There are no disqualifications and the only way to WIN this match is to put your opponent down with your primary finishing manoeuvre! Introducing first, weighing three hundred and fifty pounds, hailing from Sydney Australia......he is the HARDCORE GAMERS CHAMPION......The HELL MACHINE.....JAAAAAAAAAAANUS!!"

Funyon quickly scuttles out of the ring as Janus steps up onto the apron, climbing over the top rope and taking one step forward, two, and lifting his arms into the air. With a thunderous explosion, blue fire erupts from the turnbuckles, illuminating the entire arena with eerie blueness before the lights come back up. Unstrapping his belt, Janus throws it from the ring at the timekeeper's table, a vicious expression on his face as he stalks towards the ropes again. As the giant moves about the ring, "Fuel for Hatred" by Satyricon blasts over the speakers, and the lights fade out. As the crowd begins a cheer for someone better than Janus, black pyro blasts into the air, and red and purple lights illuminate the ramp as Funyon announces from ringside.

"And his opponent! Hailing from Birmingham, England and weighing two hundred and fifty four pounds! He is the High Priest of Horrorcore....ladies and gentlemen....DAAAAAAAAAACE NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

The crowd gives a few cheers for the man who made a successful SWF debut, and as Dace heads down the ramp in the deep red and purple lighting, he spots a figure coming up it towards him. Dace just smiles and ducks as the lights come back on, and turns around. Further up the ramp, Janus pauses for the barest second, arm still extended for a lariat, and turns around to just glare at Dace with his crimson eyes.

"And Janus looks ready to just demolish Dace no matter the cost! You have to wonder about his condition though, he took some nasty spills in that cage match at Battleground, but Dace is relatively fresh!" says Stevens.

"And now he's trying to take it to Janus! Mwaha, I'd like to see him try and take someone like that down." snorts Riley.

Riley's comment is right, as Dace shows no fear and steps up the ramp towards the giant. Janus doesn't even wait, charging back down the ramp, this time swinging a boot up...

"Not to mention Janus must be thinking of Nathaniel Kibagami somewhere in that mind of his, Riley. When he's not focused, he has lost matches before....."

...and missing as Dace ducks yet again! The crowd almost laughs at this, and Dace follows up, slamming a stiff arm into Janus' chest, scoring with his own lariat! The blow rocks the giant, who takes a step back. Dace attempts to follow up with a series of chops, but the giant catches each hand with his own and locks his grip tight, bending the wrists of the High Priest of Horrorcore further and further back. Grimacing, Dace takes the easy way out...and drives a nice hard boot into Janus' testicular area! The giant makes a garbled noise and releases his opponent's hands, stumbling back and holding his damaged package. The crowd 'oooo's and winces sympathetically as Dace rubs his wrist, eyes Janus...

...and charges in, ducking low and lifting Janus' foundation up from under him as he takes the giant down hard to the solid steel of the ramp with a double-leg takedown! Janus smacks into the ramp with a thud, and Dace rises once more, shifting around to Janus' abdomen before dropping down with a solid knee drop that makes the Hell Machine grunt in pain. Rising up, Dace drops another knee that only smacks steel as his foe rolls away. Despite being slow, Janus is already partway to his feet when Dace realises where he is.

"An interesting exchange to start the match. Janus misses two running shots at Dace, who retaliates with a lariat and attempted chops! But Janus nearly twisted Dace's wrists apart until he kicked Janus in the groin to break the hold, and then dropped the giant with a double-leg takedown!" Stevens calls.

"Crotch-kicking is illegal! Dace should be disqualified!"

"It's no-disqualification, Riley. Remember?"

Seemingly letting the giant get back up, Dace retreats towards the ring, before dropping by the apron and searching under it. Janus shakes his head once, eyes narrowing as he pinpoints the High Priest's location and begins a slow and ominous walk. Finally Dace finds what he's looking for, and emerges with a steel chair in his hands. Sensing movement behind himself, he spins around with the chair swinging - and Janus PARRIES with his left arm, grunting in pain as he slams the chair aside, using his other arm to slam a huge chop into Dace's chest! The crowd 'woooooo's on instinct, and Dace drops the chair to try and fight back.

*CHOP*

"WOooooooo!"

*CHOP*

"Woooooooo!"

*CHOP*

"WOooooooo!"

Janus literally pins Dace against the apron with his chops, slamming his huge hands repeatedly into the somewhat smaller Englishman's chest....stopped only when Dace fires back with a chop of his own! The giant just snarls at this and grabs Dace around the waist, lifting him up and dropping him down crotch-first on his knee with an inverted atomic drop! The High Priest makes an inarticulate sound of pain at having his genitals mashed, and Janus coldly lifts and pushes him into the ring before following him. And the bell rings to officially START the match!

*DING DING DING*

"Now we're finally in the ring and the match is officially under way, despite that brawl on the outside!"

"Bah! Who cares if it was under way or not? Janus was DOMINATING!"

Rising to his full height in the ring and looking down at Dace, Janus spares the merest second before just slamming a huge boot into the stomach of his opponent, rolling Dace onto his back. Following up with a series of firm stomps that are sure to leave their "bootmark" on Dace's ribcage, Janus lunges up into the air and swings out a leg. The huge standing leg drop misses its mark as the gasping Dace rolls out of the way and Janus hits nothing but mat. Grimacing, Janus begins to rise to his feet as Dace pushes himself up, firing off a painful looking elbow smash!

But Janus parries with his arm again, blocking the blow and firing back with a punch! Dace ducks and fires another elbow at the giant, and as predicted Janus parries again, grimacing in visible pain! This time, the instant the elbow shot is blocked, Dace drives a stiff knee strike into Janus' abdomen, and grabs the giant's head, attempting to drop him with a DDT! But Janus wraps his arms around Dace's waist and blocks the move, attempting to lift him into the air. However, the strategy of the High Priest pays off, as the giant must put him down thanks to the pain shooting through the arm he had used for parrying the chair and those elbow strikes. Grabbing Janus by the arm, Dace whips him at the ropes...

"Irish whip by Dace! He's taken control of the match, so far!" calls Stevens.

"Bah! Janus will squash him like -that-! You wait and see!" is Riley's response.

...and when the giant comes back with a boot raised, Dace Night ducks the blow! Rebounding off the opposite rope, Janus comes soaring back...and runs straight into a stiffly delivered powerslam! After being slammed down by the High Priest of Horrorcore, the giant lets out an inarticulate sound of pain at being hit so hard. Dace immediately slides out of the ring and searches under it...first pulling out a table and leaving it at the ringside, then pulling out another chair and sliding back in! Rising to his full height as Janus begins to stand, Dace kicks the giant in the chest to get him down again, and lifts the chair before slamming it into the elbow of the monster's left arm! The cry of pain from the monster gets Dace smiling as he lifts the chair for another blow.

"A nice display of battling here! Janus taking it to Dace at the start of the match, but now the High Priest of Horrorcore has already begun to weaken one of Janus' arms!" comments Stevens.

"So? That won't help him hit his finisher!" Riley retorts.

"But it'll sure stop Janus from hitting HIS, Riley!"

*SMACK!*

A second chair shot makes Janus bring his arm against his chest in a protective gesture, as he pushes himself back up to a sitting position with his good arm. He glares up at Dace with gleaming red eyes and the High Priest of Horrorcore shrugs before aiming a baseball-like swing at the giant's head... but Janus falls back down to avoid it, putting his opponent off balance! Dace stumbles for a moment, giving Janus just enough time to get up and lunge forward with an outstretched arm, flooring Dace with a stiff lariat! Crashing to the canvas, Night finds himself at Janus' mercy as the giant flings himself into the air again and crushes the High Priest's ribcage with a standing leg drop! The giant scowls before rolling right out of the ring and crouching by the table, also searching under the apron.

Scowling even more, apparently unable to find what he was looking for; the Hell Machine turns his attention instead to the table and begins setting it up. After making sure it's sturdy, he pats it and turns around, scanning the apron for Dace and not finding him. A dark laugh makes the giant's furious gaze snap to the turnbuckle, where Dace Night sits, holding the chair. Gasping to get a bit of oxygen, the High Priest of Horrorcore jumps off the top rope. Janus just glares at him right up to the point where the steel chair CRACKS with resounding firmness into his skull, and the giant wavers on his feet before toppling down to the ground.

"And Janus is DOWN after a huge flying chair shot from Dace! He doesn't usually fly, but he's willing to do ANYTHING to defeat Janus, it seems!" Stevens reports.

"Does that mean he'll pull out his favourite toy?" Riley whimpers.

Stevens merely shudders at the thought. "I hope not, Riley."

Dace leans against the announce table to catch his breath -and- his balance, before lifting his chair into the air to a yell from the crowd that hates Janus much, much more than the High Priest. Dropping the chair to the ground, Dace inspects the set up table and smiles, before turning around to prod the giant's sprawled body with a toe. Finally satisfied that Janus isn't moving, the High Priest of Horrorcore moves around the table.

Grunting, Dace drags the fallen giant to his feet, flexing his arms a moment. Janus staggers slightly as Dace gets a grip and forcibly gutwrenches Janus up onto his shoulder in preparation for the Dark Star Driver! Actually supporting the giant with a grimace on his face, Dace smiles to himself as he turns in the direction of the set up table...a smile that lasts only as long for the giant sitting on his shoulder to wrap a thick right arm around his head! Wavering in surprise and trying to struggle free, Dace finds himself off-balance and releases the gutwrench, allowing Janus to just fall off his shoulder, and land on the ground behind his opponent!

Whirling around, Dace lifts an arm and fires off a clothesline at where his opponent's upper body would be, but Janus has hunched right down to avoid the blow. Before Dace can regain his balance, two huge arms lock around his lower body and lift him up into the air. Hoisting his foe up with both arms, Janus lets out a mighty roar...

...before SLAMMING DACE BODILY THROUGH THE TABLE WITH A HIGH ANGLE SPINEBUSTER!

"HOLY SHIT!"

"Good GOD, Riley! Janus slips out of the Dark Star Driver and catches Dace with a high-angle spinebuster through the table! I think Dace might very well have broken vertebrae!!" roars Stevens.

"MWAHAHA! KILL, JANUS! KIIIIIIIIIIILL!" Riley cackles.

Back to the action, Janus slowly sits up, keeping a hand on his left arm. Turning his head slowly, he stares at where Dace sprawls after his spine absorbed the impact of hrough the table. A smile spreads on Janus' face. It's not pleasant. It's not happy. It's the look of a monster that's ready to pull Dace apart limb from limb. Rising to his feet slowly, wavering a little, Janus balances for a moment before leaning down, and using his good arm to get a grip on the edge of the mat, peeeeeeeling it away and revealing the solid concrete underneath. With a dark chuckle, he stalks over to Dace and drags the battered High Priest onto the concrete, before lifting him to his knees and cinching on a front face lock!

To the boos of the crowd, Janus swings Dace up into the air in a massive, stalling vertical suplex! Unfortunately, with his left arm still smarting in pain, Janus can't move his opponent into position properly, and Dace kicks his legs once, twice, and slips out of the hold, dropping down Janus' back. Twisting and wrapping his hands around the monster's waist, Dace throws himself backward with all the strength he can muster...

...bringing Janus over in a massive released german suplex that barely misses the concrete and smacks Janus down hard to the mat!

"Ooooo! Janus went for the Rage Unleashed, Bobby, but couldn't quite hit it thanks to that arm work! And now Dace....hey, what IS he doing?" Stevens queries.

"Something bad! Someone stop him!!" Riley squeaks.

The question is a good one as Dace turns back towards the shattered table, and picks up a metal pole that used to be part of the leg! Turning around, he advances on Janus as the giant begins to rise, and with a loud THWACK to begin, Dace begins to just hammer Janus with shots from the pole! The Hell Machine grimaces in pain, trying to weather the shots and get back to his feet. Unfortunately for him, Dace snaps off a beautiful shot to the giant's jaw, sending him crashing to the ground once more.

Still holding the pole, Dace presses it across the giant's throat as he gets behind the giant's head, and manoeuvring his legs....he locks them around the giant's head and neck with a figure-four sleeper, pressing the steel pipe into the giant's neck! Making a strange gurgling noise, Janus thrashes his arms and legs, trying to use sheer power and adrenaline to fight through the hold, but he's fading.......fading......

"And Janus appears to be out! Dace may have choked him out with that figure four sleeper, and now it's time for the giant to take the Dark Star Driver!" bellows Stevens.

"Nnooooooooo! Janus! Wake up! Get up! Something!!"

Only gasps come from the giant's constricted throat as Dace relents on the submission hold, tossing the pole away and kicking Janus in the side. This forces the giant to roll over into position on the concrete, and Dace begins to drag the giant up to his feet, hooking him in preparation for a gutwrench lift...

...that Janus evades with a blind, dazed, and PAINFUL knee right into Dace's punished genitals! The High Priest of Horrorcore squeaks, staggering back and clutching his bashed balls, but managing to stay upright by leaning on the barricade. Janus gasps, nearly dropping to his knees again, but seeing Dace, he forces power into his legs and breath into his lungs...to CRUSH his opponent right into the barricade with a thunderous Gore! All Dace can do is wheeze as the air is also driven out of him, and he collapses against the barricade as Janus falls to hands and knees and begins crawling.

"What's Janus doing? Is he crawling away from Dace Night?" Stevens looks at the gasping and wheezing giant, then back at the battered Dace.

"Oh, come ON? Janus, running away? He's just getting a weapon or something, you watch!!" Riley retorts smugly.

With Dace incapacitated on the barricade, Janus is indeed looking for something, as his hands fall on the steel chair that Dace had smashed him with on that earlier out-of-ring jump. A smile forms on the breathless giant's face as he uses it to push himself up, lifting the steel weapon to a boo from the crowd. The monster nods at the steel and with a loud snarl, turns around....

....right into the Stiffest. Kick. Ever.

"YAAAAAAAAKUUUUUUZA KIIIIIIICK!" roars Stevens. "DACE JUST BURST OFF THE BARRICADE AND KILLED JANUS WITH A YAKUZA KICK TO THE CHAIR!"

"NO! HE SHOULD STILL BE DEAD ON THE BARRIER!" cries Riley, lamenting Janus' fate.

Janus topples to the mat like a sack of faeces, Dace's boot clearly imprinted on the chair he drops. Gasping and hunching with his hands on his knees, Dace tries to lift Janus up and hook him for a gutwrench, but the breath-stealing moves that had been executed earlier tell against both men. The Hell Machine is wheezing despite his apparently unconscious state, and Dace lacks the energy that fresh breath gives. On the ground and on their nears, each man tries to recover and get back to delivering offence.

"What an incredible matchup...both men are gasping for breath already at the treatment being dealt, and that's only with a chair, a table, a steel pole, and incredible wrestling!" Stevens comments.

"I'd hate to wonder about the punishment if Dace brings out the weedwhacker...or Janus with his nasty Equalizer..." Riley shudders.

Dace Night suddenly lifts his head and looks in Bobby Riley's direction, a demonic grin spreading across his face. The ambiguously gay co-announcer shudders and Dace leaves Janus on the mat to lean on the apron. After a pause, the High Priest of Horrorcore moves away from the Hell Machine, going around the ring. After ending up on the opposite side of the ring from the fallen giant, Dace drops down and lifts the apron, searching under it with that demonic smile still on his face. The crowd holds its breath.

*whrrrrrrr......*

"Oh no, he found it Riley!" Stevens doesn't sound too happy.

*whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....*

"No kidding, Grand Spam!" comes the worried reply.

*WHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!*

"WEED-WHACK-ER!"

The chants of the sick and disgusting crowd make Dace smile as he lifts the weapon and waves it in the air a few times, demonstrating, before beginning to stalk around the ring back towards Janus. The ominous buzzing noise of the weedwhacker brings the giant's attention from the ground, and he looks up as Dace comes 'round the side of the ring. The High Priest of Horrorcore is just staring through the ropes at where the giant is on the floor, grinning demonically. Janus raises one eyebrow, then the other, blood trickling from his head as he rises to his feet, clutching the much-maligned steel chair in his left hand, and his right hand is bunched into a fist. Finally, Dace clears the ring post and stands opposite Janus, both superstars staring at each other.

"And it's a staredown between the two, Riley!"

"Go, Janus!! Hey...why is his fist bleeding...?"

Dace revs the weedwhacker with a sick, devilish grin...

...Janus just lifts the chair, his gleaming red eyes showing absolutely no fear.

And with the roar from the crowd backing him up, Dace charges towards Janus, the air burning in his lungs as he lifts the weedwhacker to bury it in Hell Machine flesh...a blow that is blocked by the steel chair Janus holds up with one arm! The angry buzzing of the weedwhacker makes everyone wince, and after the slightest pause, the High Priest of Horrorcore backs away, and Janus looks at the marks on the chair before throwing it aside and motioning for Dace Night to just bring it on.

"Janus parried like he's done so many times tonight, blocking that dreadful weedwhacker with a steel chair!" Stevens yells.

"But Grand Spam! He just got RID of the chair! He's telling Dace to bring the weedwhacker right to him!" Riley sounds as worried as ever.

"No one's been that crazy..well, except Sean Atlas, but still!" Stevens stares at the giant. Again, the camera focuses on the two superstars.

Janus, with a dark smile on his face, lifts his left hand and beckons. Dace Night shrugs his shoulders, and revs the weedwhacker several more times before charging at the giant again with it! The crowd holds their breath as Dace once more closes the distance, lifting his weapon...and Janus sidesteps, the angry buzzing head of the weedwhacker striking not flesh, but thin air! Before Dace can pull it back, Janus wraps his weakened left arm around the shaft of the weedwhacker. Restraining the weapon, he pulls back on it with all the might his sore arm can muster, and instead of letting it go, Dace Night comes stumbling forward. The High Priest of Horrorcore lifts his gaze to meet Janus'...

...and instead sees a massive right hand - with spiked pieces of wood between the knuckles - crashing straight home into his face! With a cry of pain, Dace releases the weedwhacker and puts his hands to his face as he falls onto his ass in surprise. Janus still holds the shaft of the weedwhacker under his arm and with contempt throws the still-running garden implement to the ground behind him and advances on his foe.

"Holy HELL! Janus sidestepped and caught the weedwhacker!" Stevens marvels.

"And then pulverised Dace's face with that nasty punch he calls the Knuckle Bomb!" Riley giggles.

"But look! He had something in his hand! He must've grabbed those splinters of wood when he was standing up earlier, to use the chair as a shield!"

Trying to shake more life into his left arm, Janus grabs his opponent by the arm and pulls him up! Dace's hands fall away from his face to reveal bloody gashes in the chin, cheekbone, and just under both eyes! Blood wells from the High Priest's face as he seeks to recover from that stunning blow, but Janus wraps his left arm around Dace's head, and steps back onto the earlier-exposed concrete and heaves! With his left arm holding the front face lock, Janus lifts Dace up with his more powerful right arm, suspending the High Priest of Horrorcore above his head in a stalling vertical suplex.

"Heeeeere......we......gooooooooo!" Riley giggles.

Dace tries to struggle free of Janus' grasp, but that Knuckle Bomb scrambled his senses just too much as Janus shifts him into position, lets go...and sits out.

"RAGE UNLEASHED INTO THE UNPROTECTED FLOOR!" hollers Stevens, his loud voice overshadowing the sickening sound of skull meeting solid concrete. The referee sees this and lifts his arm, signalling to the timekeeper. Almost next to the giant, Funyon tentatively rises to his feet.

*DING DING DING*

"The winner of this bout...and STILL...S.....W....F......HARDCORE GAMERS CHAMPION.......the HELL MACHINE......JAAAAAAAANUS!"

Fear Factory's "Resurrection" booming out of the speakers is what catches the giant's attention, and he slowly rises to his feet and throws his good arm in the air with a roar, as the referee comes over and holds out the HCG title. Janus looks down with his ominous red eyes and grins toothily, taking the title and throwing it over his shoulder. As his theme music continues to boom out over the speakers, the boos rain down from the crowd. But the monster ignores them, circling around the ring and heading up the ramp with a smile on his face that shows he enjoyed doing what he did...

"That was a....nasty match right there folks. Dace Night might be concussed after that finish..." Stevens murmurs.

"Janus kicked his ass! And avoided that damn weedwhacker too!" Riley giggles, not looking down at Dace's body that twitches slightly.

"Anyway folks, we'll be right back after the break! We have the US Champion Micheal Craven defending his title against the Bahaman bomber, the Wildchild!"

...and we fade to commercial…

May 10, 2003

As we return back from commercial, we come backstage to the locker room of Michael Craven, sitting on a desk, the SWF US Title draped over his shoulder, with one noticeable addition; a neck brace on his neck, compliments of Mike Van Siclen. He managed to win back his title, but at the cost of his neck's health.

"God dammit..." Craven grumbles as he rubs his neck, "Van Siclen sure fucked my neck up... but at least I won my title back..."

KNOCK KNOCK!

The door then opens as Ben Hardy makes his way in, Gus in tow.

"I didn't say 'Come in!', stupid." Craven snarls.

"Sorry..." Hardy replies, "but the boss sent me in here to get answers."

Craven shakes his head... umm... tries to with the neck brace on, and sighs deeply.

"Get it over with."

Hardy lifts up his microphone timidly and begins to speak.

"Michael Craven, you were victorious at Battleground, regaining your SWF US Championship. How does it make you feel?"

"How does it make me feel? Look at me. LOOK AT ME. I'm in a fuckin' neck brace, hellooooo!!! Obviously my neck is sore! But before you even ask another question, why don't you go ask MVS how he feels? Because I know how he feels. He feels pain, he feels anger, and he's disappointed because he lost to me. But that's not all. While I'm feeling damn happy I've got my title back, Van Siclen's got to go through two other guys just to face me again. But those three fools all feel something that i don't feel. Mike Van Siclen feels it. Sean Atlas feels it. Johnny Dangerous feels it. Even Wildchild feels it right now. They all feel it, and I know that others do too, because as long as I'm still around, everyone in this fed will feel one thing when they step into the ring with me: fear. Now get out of here. Your stupidity might rub off on me."

At this time, Craven pushes Hardy back gently, pushing him out the door.

"But-"

Craven pokes his head out the door, replying to Hardy with:

"I have a match to tend to soon. I don't need you and your fat friend there running around in my locker room right now! I'm a superstar, the biggest thing to ever happen in your life! Even bigger than that time you tried to pick up that fat chick in Cleveland!!! Now get out before I crack your heads in!"

SLAM!

And with that, Craven slams the door shut. Hardy turns around, a confused look on his face as he shrugs his shoulders.

"Well, I guess that's it... back to you guys up at the announce table..."

May 10, 2003

As we come back from commercial, we are given an outside shot of Boston, Massachusetts’ Fleetcenter, where an illuminated marquee flashes “SWF STORM: SOLD OUT!!!” The shots zooms in on the marquee before it cuts indside to a capacity crowd on their feet, cheering as they wave their signs. One particualrly large one in the nosebleed seats reads “Strangler Is The Master of The Universe!!!”, held up by several local fans in Strangler shirts. *shrug* Must be his fan club. The attention then turns to the fabulous announcing team of “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, who sit behind the announcer’s desk, ready for the next match.

Stevens: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to SWF Storm, live from Boston, Massachusetts! We’ve already seen TWO great match-ups tonight!!

Riley: Yeah. They were great... if you like pointlessness.

Stevens: Bobby... we just saw Janus and Dace Night battle for the Hardcore Title... and a threeway dance for a US Title shot! How can you say they’re boring?

Riley: No Tom Flesher in them.

Stevens: Anyways... we’ve got a great match next! Michael Craven, who won back his US Title at Battleground, puts it on the line against The Bahaman Bomber, Wildchild!!! We’ve never seen these two in one-on-one action before, so we can expect some new and exciting things! Anything else, Bobby?

Riley: ...Is Tom Flesher going to be in this match?

Stevens: No.

Riley frowns, but as he does...

The sounds of "The Everlasting Gaze" by the Smashing Pumpkins hits the PA system, and the crowd goes crazy. Suddenly, Wildchild springs from behind the curtain onto the stage area, banging his head in time with his music. He slaps hands with the fans at ringside as he jogs towards the ring, somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes before springing back to his feet, immediately running to the ropes and leaping atop them, posing for the crowd while Funyon bellows:

Funyon: The following contest is scheduled for one-fall, and it is for the SWF US CHAMPIONSHIP!!! Introducing first: From The Bahamas, weighing in at 217 pounds... WILDCHILDDDDDD!!!

Wildchild hops down off the turnbuckle, taking up his place in the middle of the ring while he waits...

Stevens: Wildchild has been impressive over the past few weeks, and I think he’s really got a shot to take the title tonight!!

Riley: He’s from the Bahamas!!! What business does he have representing the US at it’s champion?!?!

“BOOM-BOOM BOOM... BOOM...”

Riley is cut off as the lights totally cut out, the crowd begins to boo like crazy, and the announcers just shut up for a sec. Strobe lights pulse to the beat of the guitar in the background as Audioslave’s “Cochise” kicks in, smoke spewing from vents in front of the entrance as the drums cue in 24 seconds into the song. This is when golden waterfalls of pyro similar begin flowing from the top of the SmarkTron and the crowd really begins to raise their boos louder. A huge pyro blast kicks up from the front of the stage at the guitar drop, about 50 seconds into the song, strobes still going. Suddenly, as Chris Cornell begins to sing, a spotlight shines down on Michael Craven, standing on stage, his shiny SWF US Title wrapped around his waist. He brings within something new: a nice, white, plastic neck brace. He stops turning to look at the fans, and quickly, he spins around twice, finishing by pointing to himself and his title as the crowd begins to boo so loud, it hurts. His two belt girls follow him down the ramp, Craven not taking time to pose with them tonight as he makes his way down the ramp minus his usual swagger.

Funyon: ... And from Tampa, Florida, weighing in at 280 pounds... ladies and gentlemen, please welcome...

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Funyon: ...MICHAEL CRAAAAAAVEN!!!

He enters the ring by hopping over the top rope, landing on his feet. He climbs the turnbuckle closest to the crowd, points to himself, and then does a Steiner-like flex with his biceps, barely smiling as the crowd continues to boo him. Mike then hops off the turnbuckle, walks across the ring to another turnbuckle, climbs this, and repeats the whole thing, hopping off the turnbuckle before he turns to face Wildchild. He smiles confidently, but suddenly, that smile is erased as Referee Timmy Thompson points at Craven’s neck brace.

Thompson: Take off the neck brace if you want to wrestle, Craven.

Stevens: It looks like Thompson wants Craven’s neck brace removed.

Riley: WHAT?!?! The Nightmare’s neck isn’t in top shape!!! Thompson is forcing Craven to put his career on the line!!! Injustice!!!

Craven: Why? Just let me beat this guy, all right?

Thompson: I can’t. Company injury policy, Craven. If your neck is hurt that badly, I can’t let you wrestle. Besides, how can Wildchild do anything and not hurt you?

Craven stares up at the roof of the Fleetcenter, almost in disbelief, before he comes to his conclusion.

Craven: ... *sigh* Fine, dammit.

Reaching back, The Nightmare unstraps his neck brace, and pulling it off, hands it to one of his belts girls while the referee takes his belt and hands it to the timekeeper.

Stevens: You know... Craven’s neck might not be as bad as he is making it out to be...

Riley: What a courageous man!!! He’s got a broken neck and he’s fighting!!! What a champion, Mark!!!

Craven has a nervous look on his face as the ref signals to the timekeeper...

DING DING DING!!!

The two men stare each other down momentarily, Wildchild seeing fear in Craven’s eyes before they back off, both men slowly beginning to circle each other. The crowd begins to cheer, Craven quickly lunging in, arms open for a tie-up, but Wildchild lunges in, slamming into him with his shoulder! The quick shoulder block knocks Craven backwards, staggering as he tries to keep off the mat, allowing Wildchild to head for the ropes. Hiting them, he bounces off them, flying back at Craven, but instead of clotheslining him, Wildchild puts his innovative offense to work, lifting his leg into the air and knocking Craven down to the mat with a leg lariat!

Stevens: Wildchild may have the advantage here in this speed vs. strength match-up, especially with Craven’s neck still hurting him!

Riley: Craven’s a brave man, Mark!!! How many other guys backstage would put their career at risk like this? I don’t see Raynor or Thugg out here wrestling!!!

Craven tries not to hit his neck as he is thrown to the mat, quickly getting back up while Wildchild waits for him. As Craven gets up, The Bahaman Bomber jumps onto the waist of Craven and hooks his hands behind The Nightmare's head and neck. Wildchild quickly falls backwards and and pushes with his legs, using the momentum of Craven to flip him over backwards onto the mat! Craven lands with a hard “THUD!” on his back, his head whipping back into the mat with a smaller “Thud!” as he lies down on the mat, prone for another attack!

Stevens: Monkey flip by Wildchild, and Craven may have landed partially on his neck! He looks like he’s in a bit of pain still, but he’s still down on the mat!

As Craven lies on the mat, Wildchild leaps on top of him, covering him for a pinning attempt as the ref drops to count...

One!!!

Kickout by Craven, knocking Wildchild off of him and onto his back!! Wildchild looks a little stunned as he rises to his feet. Craven, though, looks like his neck is starting to bug him as he gets to his feet, Stevens quick to point that out.

Stevens: Perhaps Wildchild is doing more damage to Craven than initially thought...

Riley: The guy’s neck is injured! He’s got guts, I tell you. Any lesser of a man would not be out here right now! He’d be at home crying about how his neck is broken, and boo-hoo I’m a loser, and all that crap.

Wildchild notices Craven’s neck is his weak point right now, and quickly, hereaches out, trying to grab him. As he does that, though, Craven takes full advantage, ducking and grabbing Wildchild from behind the head. Then, dropping into a sitting position, he drives Wildchild’s jaw onto his head with a sitdown jawbreaker! Wildchild springs backwards as Craven releases him, landing hard on his back, the counter sufficient for now.

Riley: Ah, there’s that trademark Craven offense!

Stevens: Craven finally able to break Wildchild’s offensive run, possibly buying him some time, but I don’t know how good the jawbreaker can be for his neck!!

Riley: It didn’t hurt him! Not as much as Wildchild’s ass is gonna hurt...

Stevens: Bobby, you know company policy says you can’t-

Riley: I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT, PERVERT!!!

Back in the ring, Wildchild has gotten to his feet, but has been whipped to the ropes by Craven, bouncing off them. As he flies back at Craven, The Nightmare prepares to catch him, but Wildchild jumps into the air, legs spread apart as he leaps frogs over Craven! The crowd goes nuts, but the go even more nuts as Wildchild thrusts his legs back, nailing Craven with a backflip kick to the neck! Craven falls forward onto his face, slow to get up and rubbing his neck a little as Wildchild rolls to his feet, popping up onto them and running for the opposite ropes! He flies back from the ropes, leaping onto the rising Craven’s shoulders. His legs wrap around Craven’s neck before he flips himself back, sweeping Craven off his feet and driving him down into the mat with a hurracanrana!

Stevens: A backflip kick AND a hurracanrana from Wildchild!!! He’s certainly working that neck!!!

Riley: Dammit... cover.

Stevens: Here’s the count!

One!!!

Two-Kickout by Craven!!! Not startled in the least, Wildchild immediately transitions into his next move as he lifts Craven up and locks his arm around Craven’s neck, executing a basic headlock, something Wildchild NEVER does!! The reason this time being he knows Craven’s weakness, and though “foreign” to Wildchild, he knows he can’t stop Craven on kicks alone. Craven reaches out for the ropes almost immediately, but he’s not even close to them. Craven flails as he tries to pull out of the hold.

Stevens: Very unusual!!! Wildchild slowing down and applying a headlock!!!

Riley: I doubt he’ll keep this in for very long. Either Craven will escape or he’ll transition into another move. “Slow and plodding” just not Wildchild’s style.

The hold continues for only a few more seconds before Craven forces his arm into Wildchild’s chest, unable to break the hold the first time. While not enough to stop the headlock, he does reach around the second time and catches Wildchild with a hard right hook, breaking the hold. Craven’s position allows him to get to his feet quickly, and retaliation is swift in the form of three rapid right hands and a whip to the ropes. Wildchild hits them and comes off them hard into Craven’s waiting arms as he lifts Wildchild up in the air as if for a back drop, but instead of tossing him over, pushes him up in the air when Wildchild is horizontal and forcing him to hit the mat hard on his chest and face with a huge flap jack!!! Wildchild bounces off the mat from the sheer recoil of the move, flipping onto his back and allowing Craven to cover him for a pinfall attempt!

One!!!

Two!!!

...Shoulder up from Wildchild at two and a half! Craven drops right back down, trying to cover Wildchild again...

One!!!

Two!!!

Abrupt kickout by Wildchild at two! Craven can’t believe it as he gets to his feet, grabbing hold of Wildchild and pulling him to his feet.

Stevens: Only a two-count after a monstrous flap jack by Michael Craven!!!

Riley: Damn, that one made my made my bones rattle!!!

As Craven pulls Wildchild up, he quickly moves in on The Bahaman Bomber, methodically hooking his right leg with his as he throws hjis arm out in front of Wildchild and forces him to the mat with a judo takedown! Wildchild slams hard into the mat and cries out in pain as Craven gets to his feet, the crowd booing as he unleashes a series of hard stomps to the chest. Wildchild cries out after each stomp before Craven grabs Wildchild, slowly pulling him onto his feet. Once there, Craven brings his arm back before he swings it forward...

“SLAP!”

... hitting a hard slap across the chest! “Whoooo!!!” replies the crowd as Craven draws his arm back and slaps Wildchild across the chest with another hard chop, causing the fans to go “Whoooooo!!!” again. Craven then grabs Wildchild’s wrist and quickly whips him to the ropes as the crowd boos. Wildchild flies to the ropes, bounces off them, and comes flying back, right into the arms of Craven. The US Champion scoops up and clutches Wildchild across his chest, quickly spinning around before he drops, to the mat and executes an amazing powerslam!!!

Stevens: Powerslam by Michael Craven! An angry Craven is on the offensive charge, taking his frustrations out on Wildchild!

As Stevens and Riley follow the match, Craven follows the slam up quickly as hooks Wildchild’s leg, the ref dropping to count...

One!!!

Two-Shoulder up by Wildchild! Craven angrily stares at the ref as he looks up and slowly gets to his feet. Grabbing Wildchild by the hed, he pulls him slowly up onto his feet, where Craven plants his fists into Wildchild’s chest, pounding away with some hard right body blows. Wildchild cries out with each blow, Craven backing up as he winds up for a huge shot to the gut, but Wildchild retaliates quickly, throwing his leg up into Craven’s neck with a surprise roundhouse kick! Craven falls to the mat, grabbing his neck as he scoots backwards on his back, trying to wave off Wildchild’s advances towards him as he moves towards the ropes.

Stevens: Craven looks like he might be in trouble now! Wildchild may have just stopped his offensive charge cold!!!

Riley: Craven wouldn’t let something like this happen without having a back-up plan, Mark!!! He’s a brave man for coming out here with that neck, but not a dumb one!!!

Stevens: Will you stop it with the neck injury?!?! He looks fine!!!

Riley: To the untrained eye he does, Mark...

Craven reaches back, grabbing hold of the ropes with both arms while Wildchild begins his assault, stomping into Craven’s neck with the sole of his boot, but the referee intervenes, forcing Wildchild back away from Craven. Wildchild promptly confronts Thompson, turning his back to Craven as Timmy explains about the rope break.

Stevens: Wildchild seems a little angry he can’t get at Craven because the Nightmare is clutching the ropes like a coward!!!

Riley: Coward?!?! That’s strategy Mark. Craven’s trying to screw with Wildchild’s momentum and cut it off at the knees.

Stevens: Could be. Craven is a dangerous man, mainly due to his ability to think on the fly and the fact that he knows how to mess with someone’s game!

Riley: Yeah, he’s just fucking with him.

Stevens: You like to fuck with other guys, don’t you, Bobby?

Riley: Such immature talk, Mark. I’m sure you could try not to act like a little 3rd grader for a few minutes, OK?

While Wildchild continues to argue with Thompson, there’s a large jeer from the crowd, and Thompson looks over Wildchild’s shoulder, diving out of the way. Wildchild doesn’t have time to react, or even look back, as Michael Craven nails Wildchild in the back of the neck with a forearm smash! Wildchild tripe forward, landing hard on the mat as Craven lands on his knees. The Nightmare pushes himself onto his feet, stalking Wildchild down as he gets to his feet, and once he does, he grabs him, lifitng him up across his chest as if for a powerslam.

Riley: Hate to say I told you, Mark...

Stevens:Craven with a cowardly sneak attack on Wildchild, and now he’s got the Bahaman ready for something cruel!!!

Riley: Now let me get this right... that was cowardly? If Wildchild had done it, it would have been wonderful. Don’t be so damn biased.

As Craven holds Wildchild across his chest, he quickly drops to a knee, slamming Wildchild onto the other knee with a rib breaker! Wildchild cries in pain as the crowd winces, Craven lifting Wildchild back into the air before dropping him into another rib breaker! The crowd gives an “Ooooh!” sound as Wildchild screams out again, Craven lifting him up for the final time as he hits a third straight rib breaker on Wildchild! Releasing the Bahaman Bomber, Craven takes in the crowd’s boos while Wildchild lies on the mat, clutching his ribs in pain.

Stevens: Massive rib breakers from Michael Craven, and it looks like... cover on Wildchild by Craven! Is it enough?

One!!!

Two!!!

THR... kickout by Wildchild before three! The crowd cheers lightly while Thompson rises to his feet holding up two fingers again. Craven rises to his knees, pointing at Wildchild and holding up three fingers as he screams at Timmy Thompson, but the referee defiantly holds up two as Craven’s face turns redder with rage.

Riley: He’s doing it again... just like at Battleground... screwing Craven out of the win!

Stevens: Bobby, Craven won at Battleground by pinfall.

Riley: But how many times did Craven only get two-counts? Too many if you ask me.

Stevens: It’s hopeless to converse intelectually with you, Bobby... hopeless...

Michael Craven is still up, looking extremely angry. Bending over, he slowly grabs Wildchild, ready to make him pay now. Slowly pulling him up, and nearly dropping him, he pulls Wildchild to his feet, grabbing his wrist, and whips him to the corner. Wildchild slams back first into the corner, but Craven charges in before he sandwiches Wildchild between steel and flesh, slamming his knee into Wildchild’s chest with a knee smash in the corner!!!

Stevens: Knee smash by Craven into Wildchild’s chest!

Craven immediately starts his assault, starting off with a rapid series of ten shoulder thrusts to the ribs, then a couple of heavy, hard kicks to the chest. Wildchils falls to the ground as the crowd boos, but Craven ignores their boos, grabbing Wildchild and pulling him to his feet. Lifting him up, he seats him on the top rope, facing the crowd, then steps up to the second rope and steps behind him, grabbing him around the head as he ascends to the top. And then, with a mighty hoist, Craven lifts Wildchild into the air, stalling on the top rope as the crowd watches in awe.

Stevens: What is Craven trying for here, Bobby?

Riley: I don’t know, but it’s gonna be awesome!!!

As the two watch on, Craven lets his body go, and in doing so, causes himself to slightly lurch forward, picking up speed as he and Wildchild fall to the mat as one!

“THUD!!!”

Wildchild’s chest slams into the mat as the two collide with the canvas, compliments of a reverse suplerplex!!! The Bahaman rolls over onto his back as he is released, looking to be in serious pain, but then again, Craven is trying to shake off lingering pains in his neck from Battleground.

Stevens: HUGE REVERSE SUPERPLEX FROM CRAVEN!!! WILDCHILD IS DOWN... Wait! Craven’s crawling on top of him, and here’s the cover!

One!!!

Two!!!

THREE!!!

NO!!! WILDCHILD BARELY GETS THE SHOULDER UP! The crowd pops insanely Craven spews out a few profanities, Riley speechless as Stevens goes hysterical.

Stevens: NO!!! WILDCHILD KICKS OUT!!! Craven cannot believe it, and it looks like he’s in shock as he’s slow to get up here.

Riley: Come on, Craven!!! Get to your feet faster dammit!!

Stevens: It’s not working, Bobby...

Riley: It’s encouragement, Mark. I’m not remote controlling Craven.

As Craven gets to his feet, he grabs and pulls up Wildchild, then motions to the crowd that it’s over for sure now. Pulling Wildchild closer to him, Craven holds tight, locking Wildchild in a huge waistlock! Wildchild is trapped as Craven lifts him high up and squeezes down, locking in a rib-breaking bearhug!!!

Stevens: Bearhug by Craven!!!

Riley: This is it!!! He’s gonna tap out!!!

Craven holds onto Wildchild, squeezing the life out of him as he laughs, Wildchild crying in pain, but Wildchild all the meanwhile draws his arms back, and he claps his hands around Craven's head, disrupting his equilibrium! Craven drops Wildchild, staggering back as he grabs his head and shakes it, allowing Wildchild to run to the ropes at a slower than normal speed. Hiting them and bouncing off, he flies back, not at full speed, though, towards Craven, but The Nightmare recovers, and quickly, he throws his arm out, clotheslining Wildchild into the seventh circle of Hell!!! The crowd boos as Wildchild hits the mat hard, Craven on his feet, smiling.

Stevens: Wildchild has gone from giving out the beating to taking it!!!

Riley: He shouldn’t even be in this match!! This is the US Title, not the Bahaman Title!!

Craven slowly pulls up Wildchild, throwing his knee into the Bahamans chest twice before he grabs him by the arm and whips him to the ropes. As Wildchild bounces back, Craven draws his arm back like a shortstop scopping up a grounder and throwing it to first before he draws his hand close to his head and drives his forearm into the head of Wildchild with amazing force!

...Or he would, except Wildchild baseball slides through Craven’s open legs! The Nightmare turns around, coming face-to-face with the challenger! Reacting, Craven ducks a quick Wildchild high kick, sliding behind Wildchild before grabbing him by the back. Wildchild is lifted onto Craven’s shoulder before he falls back! Wildchild, though, quickly twists his body around and floats over Michael’s back in a flipping motion, locking his legs around Craven’s neck in a headscissors, and arches back, pulling Craven through the air, the resulting action resembling a hurricanrana, but with Craven facing the opposite way as the crowd reconginzes the move.

Crowd: JUNK-A-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Riley: Say what?

Stevens: The Junkanoo!!! It’s one of Wildchild’s more well-known moves!

Riley: What language is that in? Chinese?

As Wildchild lands the Junkanoo, he hooks Craven’s legs with his arms, pinning his shoulders to the mat in unique form as the ref drops to make the count...

One!!!

Two!!!

Kickout by Craven following two!!! The hold is broken and Craven’s legs fall back to the mat, Wildchild getting to his feet as Craven tries to get up, his neck bugging him.

Stevens: Wildchild with a burst of offense here, trying to somehow stop Craven!!!

Riley: This isn’t fair!!! The guy’s being forced to defend his title with an injury!!

As the two men get to their feet, Craven bent over in a bit of pain, Wildchild grabs Michael in a front facelock, throws his arm over the back of his neck, grabs and handful of tights and throws him up, slamming him to the mat with a neckdrop suplex!!! Craven lands on his neck again, crying out in pain as Wildchild slowly gets to his feet. He runs for the ropes, The Nightmare slowly getting onto his feet, waiting for Wildchild to come back so he can crushhis ribs. Wildchild, though, leaps into the air, thrusting his legs out and catching a rising Craven in the chin with a swift front dropkick! Craven’s head whips back as he falls to the mat, and once more, he grabs his neck, holding it in pain while he slowly struggles to get to his feet. Wildchild, though, suddenly comes to life, running to the ropes as Craven tries to get to his feet. He hits the ropes, and bouncing off them, grabs Craven around the head, slamming his face into the mat with a bulldog as Riley cringes at the sight.

Stevens: Bulldog from Wildchild! He’s got him down, and here’s a cover for The Bahaman Bomber!!!

One!!

Two!!

THR-Kickout from Craven! Wildchild doesn’t believe it, thinking he had Craven as he asks the ref in his Creole accent about the count. The ref holds up only two fingers, and Wildchild shakes his head in disapproval. The Bahaman, though, grabs Craven, pulling him up off the mat.

Riley: Phew!!! Thought for a second there the match might end like that!!!

As Craven is pulled up, Wildchild lashes out with a coupleof high kicks to the neck, then a chop there, causing Craven to cry out in pain and grab his neck. Wildchild makes use of this, grabbing Craven by one of his arms and whipping him hard to the ropes!

Stevens: Not enough for Wildchild to get him to the mat, but Craven’s headed for the ropes thanks to the Bahaman!

Craven hits the ropes, flying off them at Wildchild. The Bahaman ducks down, catching Craven on his shoulder, and straining his leg muscles, lifts Craven up and flips him over onto his back for a back body drop...

...But Craven suddenly and abruptly grabs him around the head and arm, and flipping forward, scissors Wildchild’s torso with his legs, squeezing tight as he drags the fan favorite to the mat with a guillotine choke!!!

Stevens: CRAVEN CLUTCH!!! CRAVEN CLUTCH ON WILDCHILD!!!

Wildchild freaks out as Craven locks in the hold, too far from the ropes to reach them, but unable to move, the pressure increasing as the crowd freaks out, Craven grinning from ear to ear. The ref drops down to check on Wildchild, but he refuses to give in, though things don’t look good for him.

Riley: The fat lady’s warming up, Mark!

Stevens: Not so fast! He’s gotten out of it three times before, and he might be able to do it again!

He lets out a cry of pain, terror, and anger trying to get to his feet against Craven’s will as he starts to tilt a little, readying to roll Craven onto his back...

Stevens: HE’S GONNA DO IT!! HE’S GONNA ROLL CRAVEN OVER AND PIN HIM TO THE MAT!!!

Riley: DAMMIT!!! NO!!!

...But he can’t muster up the strength to roll Craven over...

TAP TAP TAP!!!

...and he taps out as his threshold of pain is finally shattered, the ref signaling for the bell!!!

DING DING DING!!!

Funyon: Your winner, by submission, and still SWF US CHAMPION... MICHAEL CRAAAA-VENNNN!!!

Craven immediately releases the hold, slamming Wildchild’s face to the mat with his hand as he slowly rises, hand raised in victory, crowd booing loudly.

Stevens: Craven steals one from Wildchild with a surprise counter!

Riley: There you go, saying Craven’s less than he is. Screw the recap. Let’s just go to commercial before you start saying Tom Flesher will only put on a ****3/4 match tonight.

And with Craven holding his neck in the ring, we fade off...

May 10, 2003

“…Trojan, a ‘Superior’ brand of Condom. Just lay back and let my wang do its thang! Whoo-Ah! All right!” slickly chimes Tom Flesher with a pelvic thrust as his commercial fades out and the commentators table inside the Fleet Center fades in.

“Welcome back to Storm,” Stevens greets the returning viewers. “The ramifications from Battleground are being felt all over tonight and will make our coming match very interesting. Two of the SWF’s biggest stars, Jay Dawg and Frost, suffered the biggest loss of their careers last Sunday and will attempt to bounce back with a win tonight.”

Riley smirks and fills in more detail, “Frost was schooled by Tom Flesher in a triple threat match for the SWF World Title along with TNT, while JD was robbed of the ICTV Title by that low down dirty Danny Williams and his awe inspiring array of elbow smashes.”

“Neither feud looks to be anywhere near over,” Stevens tosses in. “Both men will be looking to earn a second shot at the titles they covert so much and a win here would definitely be a step in the right direction.”

The camera pans around to find the entrance ramp at the same instant a multitude of pyrotechnics explode from every crevice of the arena. The lights then black out and a voice screaming, “THIS IS MAH HOUSE!!!” cuts through the void. Rammestein’s “Du Haste” blares vengefully over the loudspeakers, nearly drowned out by the ferocious jeering of the Boston crowd. The lights flicker back on to catch Jamie “Jay Dawg” Drazon stalking out from behind the backstage curtain, head down and eyes shut. He lifts his head slowly as he reaches the top of the entrance ramp, seeing the audience but not seeing them at the same time.

“Introducing first,” Funyon announces from the ring “at a weight of 243 pounds and hailing from Vancouver, British Columbia, the Hardcore Maniac JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZZZZZZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”

The sound of his name makes the crowd boo louder and Drazon trots to the ring with an evil grin plastered on his face.

Stevens: “It might be interesting to note that Jay Dawg won the ICTV Title shortly after Frost vacated it to pursue the World Title and Frost captured the Hardcore Gamers Title many months previously after Jay Dawg vacated that strap to go after the World Title at Genesis III.”

Riley: “ONLY after JD vacated it. Frost had two shots previously at Drazon and had his ass handed to him both times.”

Stevens: “However, those were both hardcore encounters, the second being a wild casino brawl. This is a straight up match and Frost has shown himself to be the better all around wrestler in that department.”

Riley: “Wait until I tell JD you said that. I hope you enjoy the urinal cakes here, I’ve been told they have a light, minty flavor.”

Jay Dawg climbs into the squared circle between the ropes and cricks his neck from side to side with his elbows perched on his thighs. He eyes the backstage curtain for a moment and then fades into the far turnbuckles to await his foe.

POP! POP! POP!

Comes the sound of the dazzling fireworks display high overhead. The fans reaction changes to one of resounding cheers, as the music blasting over the speakers is now Black Sabbath’s “Snowblind.” A blue spotlight shines down on the entrance stage and faux snow flutters down melancholy from above.

“His opponent,” Funyon booms, “tipping the scales at 296 pounds and born and bred in Reykjavik, Iceland, he is the Velvet Hammer, FRRRRROOOOOOOSSSSST!”

The Icelandic Iceman lopes in from behind the curtain and drearily makes his way down the ramp with no bravado or recognition of the loving fans.

Stevens: “Word is Frost has been in a bit of a funk since the huge loss at Battleground.”

Riley: “And not the Rick James kind of funk either. He’s been reported as being very despondent and depressed backstage. Big Bad Tom Flesher make snowman fall down, go boom, snowman cry, WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

Frost pulls himself to the apron by the second ropes and steps over the strands to the ring proper. Funyon ducks out of the ring and the fans buzz for the encounter to get underway. Referee Anthony Michael Hall pats both men down briefly, checking for foreign objects, and calls for the bell.

DING DING DING

JD rushes toward Frost at the sound of the bell and pounds him in the kisser with a series of stiff right hands! Frost is driven back to the lower left hand corner by the shots and slumps in the turnbuckles from a knee to the gut for good measure.

Stevens: “Drazon wastes no time in attacking Frost to gain the early upper hand.”

Riley: “Frost seems very listless and that’s going to beat him more than anything.”

Jay Dawg takes Frost by the wrist and whips him toward the opposite corner. Halfway across the ring Frost reverses and sends JD for the ride! He strikes the top turnbuckle chest first and stumbles backwards as he bounces off. Frost throws his arm around Drazon’s neck from behind and pulls him down into an inverted facelock. Before Frost can snap off the inverted DDT, JD reaches up to grab Frost by the back of the neck and pulls himself out of the facelock! He twists to be chest to chest with Frost and tucks the top of his head under the big man’s chin. He yanks down hard as he falls to his knees!

Stevens: “Jawbreaker! That was a very loose facelock Frost put on JD. I’d have to say that the backstage observations on Frost’s morale might be right, Bobby.”

Riley: “If the self proclaimed Zen master can’t motivate himself when he’s been dispensing advice to others, he’s got no chance.”

The fans heartily boo as JD grabs Frost’s right leg by the ankle and flips over his opponent’s body, snapping the appendage with a crack! Frost screams and grabs the leg, trying to rub feeling back into it. JD stands behinds Frost and reaches down to grab him by the sides of his head. He turns Frost as he picks him up and places him in a front facelock. He grabs a handful of tights, but Frost dips his right shoulder down to shake off the facelock and follows by driving it into the breadbasket. JD ‘oophs’ from the blow and Frost buries his shoulder into the stomach as he stands to pick Drazon up. Jay Dawg rests on Frost’s mighty shoulder and the Icelandic hoss trips rearward. He tosses JD into the air with a shake of his shoulder and steps out of the way. JD’s ever-closed eyes stay shut tight as he hovers in the still Boston air. Seeing what was coming would do him little good anyhow and he plunges to smack the top turnbuckle of the lower left corner with a reverberating smash!

Stevens: “Reverses Snake Eyes from Frost! JD is down, but Frost is still favoring the leg Drazon started punishing.”

Riley: “And still moping around like Mike Van Siclen in a strip club with no money.”

Frost slouches against the ropes with his right leg out straight. JD lies still for a moment and then pushes himself up on all fours. Frost comes off the ropes and links his arms around Drazon’s waist from behind. He pulls him up right with his feet dangling off the mat. JD attempts to break with an elbow to the temple, but he’s too slow on the trigger and Frost is already flinging him head over heels! Frost releases at the crest of his arc to allow the back of Jamie’s neck to impale the mat at a sick angle. The fans cheer the sight of Drazon folded in half! Frost kicks him over to lay flat and drops to cover with a lateral press.

ONE!

TWO!

Stevens: “Shoulder up! The release German suplex was a hell of a move, but it’s still too early for a grappler as resilient as Jay Dawg to go down.”

Riley: “There was no pop in it. Frost is just going through the motions out there.”

Frost listlessly stands while pulling Drazon up by a handful of stringy hair. Drazon fires two crisp right hands to the gut to earn the break and falls into the near ropes. Frost hunches over with a hand to his stomach as Jay Dawg comes off the ropes with extra momentum for a driving knee to the gut! Frost goes ramrod straight and JD skips back on his right leg and shoots out the left for a thrust kick to the chest! With a hearty crack, Frost stumbles into the near ropes and is tangled in the cords!

Riley: “Both men suffered big losses at Battleground, but JD is using it to fuel his desire while Frost has let it take all the winds out of his sails. That right there is why Frost will never be World Champion and Jay Dawg will reclaim the ICTV Title from Danny Williams.”

The crowd jeers Jay Dawg as he runs to the far ropes. He measures Frost as he springs off and leaves his feet for a straddling splash! Frost jerks hard to the left to free himself of the ropes and Drazon winds up crotching himself on the second cord! The audience groans in sympathy. JD holds his groin and his face is a mask of pain, but his eyes stay shut and his voice stays silent. He absorbs the pain as he stumbles to the mat and deftly starts climbing to his feet.

Stevens: “Ow! Jay Dawg gets his gonads whacked on the ropes, but Frost is slow to capitalize. His head is certainly not in this match, Bobby, and it’s only his basic prowess and instinctive mat skills that are keeping him in this encounter.”

Frost catches JD as he stands with a rear waistlock and goes to lift him up and over for a second German suplex. JD wiggles a bit to his right on the back swing and jams a thumb into Frost’s eyes for the break!

Stevens: “Frost went to the well one too many times and Drazon earns the cheap, but effective break.”

Frost drops Jay Dawg to land on his feet and puts a hand to his blinded eye. Drazon spins to face Frost and thunders in a punt to the nad sac! Frost doubles over from the blow and Drazon is quick to seize him in a facelock.

Riley: “There you go, JD, give as good as you get! For the folks at home, that’s a low blow so drink.”

Drazon throws Frost’s near arm over his neck and takes a handful of tights. With a grunt of exertion, JD hunkers down and hoists Frost up and over in one swift, deft motion!

Stevens: “Snap suplex from Drazon! He keeps the move locked on and rolls to his feet!”

JD pulls Frost to his feet and resets himself for a second snap suplex. He doesn’t hear the fans booing, onlt the smack of Frost’s back as he strikes the canvas for a second time! He rolls over to his chest and gets his legs underneath him. He drags Frost up as he stands and settles in for one more suplex. With adrenaline and leverage on his side, Jay Dawg shows little effort in hoisting Frost straight up and down to finish the breathtaking rolling snap suplex sequence! He lets go of the facelock and flips over on top of Frost for the cover, making sure to hook the near leg.

ONE

TWO

THRE-

Stevens: “Foot on the ropes! JD wound up a little too close to the edge of the ring and it cost him.”

Drazon eyes Hall with disgust briefly and fights down the urge to snap the former actor like a twig. He drags the limp body of Frost up by a front facelock and retakes his hold on the man’s tights. Drazon pulls Frost to the center of the ring, but The Velvet Hammer takes the extra second of recovery time to snatch a fistful of JD’s black, baggy pants and rears back in reversing the suplex! The fans pop as both men crash down with a ring shaking boom!

Stevens: “This time it was JD who went to the well once too often with the snap suplexes. The near fall and tugging Frost to the center of the ring gave him time to recover. Both men are down!”

Riley: “Drazon has to be careful to not let Frost’s lackadaisical effort in this match pull him down. He could easily lull Drazon into a false sense of confidence or simply drag him down to his craptastic level.”

Hall starts a double count out, but both men are already propped up by an elbow and rolling over to their knees. They stand and Frost loops out his arm with a soupbone right. Drazon ducks under the sloppy punch and grabs the wrist. He yanks Frost down while shooting a knee up and slams the big man in the top part of his ribcage! While keeping hold of the arm, Jay Dawg puts the elbow of his free arm over Frost’s neck and drags him into a martial arts style facelock.

Stevens: “Drazon looks to be setting up the JD DDT. This could end the match…NO!”

Frost drops down while JD is still setting up the move to counter. He plunges a knee onto JD’s foot as he falls and Drazon backs off wincing.

Riley: “What a piss pour counter! That heavy Lugz boot is going to protect his feet anyway. Lugz Boots, get a pair, JD wears them.”

Stevens: “What a glowing endorsement.”

Jamie collects himself and reasons that Frost on his knees is a prime target. He rockets out a leg for a thrust kick, but Frost barely manages to catch the ankle a millimeter from his face! JD bounces on his free leg a few times for leverage and kicks off the mat for an enzuiguiri. Frost dips his head below the flying foot and catches it as it comes around! He stands with JD’s body suspended horizontally over the canvas. Frost shimmies his hand up the legs for a better grip and jumps into the air! The fans pop as JD’s face collides with the turf for a loud crunch!

Stevens: “JD tried to use the increase agility he’s shown since his last lay off to hit an enzuiguiri off the missed kick, but Frost turns it into the Snowblind! The cover!”

ONE

TWO

THRE-

Riley: “Shoulder up! Nice work by Frost on the Snowblind, but the cover was still sloppy. He’s off in la-la land where plasticine porters wear looking glass ties.”

The pair gets to their feet and Frost looks to keep the advantage by surprising JD with a headbutt. He trips into the ropes off balanced, but still has enough on the ball to block Frost’s incoming punch. JD tries to sneak in a right hand of his own, but Frost parries that off and finally lands his own sledgehammer of a hook shot! JD’s body is whipped around and he finds himself in the upper right ring corner. Frost glides in from behind and snakes an arm across his opponent’s throat while seizing a half nelson. He steps his left leg around Jay Dawg’s and kicks it back to send him toppling forward. The audience groan in sympathy at the sight of Drazon’s head smashing into the second turnbuckle before his body comes to rest on the turf!

Stevens: “Icelandic legsweep into the turnbuckle pad and Frost seems to be picking up a bit. He goes for the win while Drazon is dazed from the blast.”

ONE

TWO

THR-

JD slips a foot onto the bottom rope and Hall taps Frost on the shoulder for the break.

Riley: “Why waste the effort of a kick out when the ropes are right there. Drazon is using his head in this match and not letting it get away from him. I say Frost is getting turned on a little too late to do himself any good, which is what all the girls say.”

Stevens: “For the folks at home, that’s a drink as Bobby Riley said something that didn’t make any damn sense.”

Frost picks JD up by his stringy hair and bends him backwards for an inverted facelock. He steps rearward to the center of the ring, Drazon fidgeting and fighting to break free. Frost sways to his right once then jerks clear to his left, swinging JD up and around his body! Frost angles Jamie how he wants him as he releases his hold and Drazon’s head nearly telescopes into his neck from the bash to the mat!

Stevens: “Rock ‘n Roll the Dice from the Velvet Hammer! Frost makes sure to hook the leg this time and we’ve got a winner!”

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-

Riley: “Last second kick out by Jay Dawg! Way to get the folks at home to take a bathroom break, Mark. This match is far from over…unless JD hits a big move on Frost, then it will be over.”

Frost sits up and sighs deeply. He seems at a lost as to what to do next. The fans cheering and Hall’s cries of, “C’mon Frost, let’s keep it moving” do little to spur him on. What is he doing here in the middle of the ring? Why does anyone care? Drazon crawls for the ropes while Frost is lost in thought and starts climbing them like the rungs of a ladder while trying to shake the cobwebs out of his foggy noggin.

Stevens: “Not getting the pin there really has Frost out of it again. I hate to agree with you Bobby, but I dare say you’re right about Frost costing himself this match from his lack of energy and attentiveness.”

Riley: “You agree with me! Ok, folks at home finish what your drinking, crack open another bottle and finish that too.”

Frost solemnly turns as he stands to eye JD reaching his feet with the aide of the ropes. Frost lopes over and bashes a forearm into the back of Jay Dawg’s neck! He takes it as a wake up call and responds with a hard back elbow to the bridge of the nose! The crowd jeers at the momentum shift and Drazon keeps it rolling by nailing Frost in the stomach with a back thrust kick! Frost folds in half and Jay Dawg spins closer to Frost while leaping into the air! He slices one limb past the other and drives his right leg across Frost’s back with full force!

Stevens: “Spinning scissors kick puts Jay Dawg firmly back into the driver’s seat of this match.”

Riley: “UR-UR, the job train has a new engineer and soon a new passenger!”

Drazon rolls down Frost’s body and to his feet. He takes the man’s ankle and hoists it up. He gives the ankle a twist for good measure before bashing the knee in the canvas! Frost grunts and crawls for the ropes, but JD pulls him back by the ankle and jams the knee into the mat a second time!

Stevens: “JD goes back to that leg he started working on early in the match. Most likely looking to set up JD’s Avenge at some point.”

Riley: “Making Frost tap out would be the perfect humiliation. I call first dibs on the suicide watch if that happens.”

JD falls to the mat and wraps his ankles around the back of Frost’s knee. He squeezes tight while continuing to torque the ankle in his hands.

Stevens: “Drazon shifts into a basic leglock to mount the pressure. Frost has the power to break this move, but does he have the will?”

The crowd claps and stomps in hopes of getting Frost motivated. Hall drops to his knees by Frost’s ear and asks if he wants to submit. Frost is visibly seen shaking his head ‘no’ and props himself up by the elbows. JD looks to be a few degrees away from twisting the ankle into a breaking angle, while his heels dig into the back of the knee. Frost pushes himself up on his hands now and uses his bulging biceps to flip himself and Drazon over. Ever persistent, JD adjusts to now being hunched over on his stomach and continues to constrict the leg like a giant snake. Frost lets loose a gut wrenching bellow and rolls the pair over once more fully into the ropes. Hall calls for JD to make the break and goes into his dq count when he refuses to relent. Drazon breaks at four and quickly climbs to his feet.

Stevens: “Frost uses his massive upper body strength to get to the ropes, but that leg has to be hanging by a thread after that punishment.”

Riley: “And JD knows it.”

Frost wobbly stands with an assist from the ropes. Drazon swoops in to grab his martial arts facelock and jerks Frost off the ropes at a high, choking angle with the move. He lowers his elbow from the choke and falls straight back for a fluid DDT!

Riley: “JD DDT! NOW YOU CAN CALL IT OVER!”

Drazon adjusts to hook the leg on the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-

Stevens: “Kick out! You can hear the flushing of toilets all across the country.”

Riley: “Blow me, Mark.”

Stevens: “You keep hoping.”

JD rises off of Frost and proceeds to mercilessly punch at the damaged right knee with his fist. Hall holds his palm out flat and warns of the closed fist. Drazon chuckles demonically under his breath and reaches to pull Frost to his feet by the shoulder. He flips behind him, turning it into a half nelson and then hooking the other arm the same way, making sure to lock his fingers together tight on the top of the skull. Drazon bends his knees and takes a deep breath. He slings Frost over his body and allows gravity to aide him in jack hammering the back of the Icelander’s neck into the canvas for a full nelson suplex!

Stevens: “Dragon suplex! JD bridges for the pin!”

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-

Riley: “HE GOT HIM!”

Stevens: “NO! Drazon couldn’t hold onto the bridge! Frost was too much weight for him in that position.”

Frost’s massive body collapses on top of Jay Dawg. Drazon squirts out from under the heavy mass and mashes an elbow into the face for good measure, as he breaks free. Frost rolls over to his chest while holding his face and Drazon stands. JD takes the top rope in his hand for support as he hauls off and punts Frost full in the ribs! Frost flips over to his back, now holding his chest with his face scrunched in pain. Drazon skips into the air for a short elevation knee drop to the chest! He rolls through the ricochet of impact and back up to feet. The fans boo nonstop as Drazon takes Frost apart with precision. He steps onto the swelling right knee with both feet and grinds the soles of his thick soled Lugz boots into the floating bone! Frost wails in pain and slaps away at Jay Dawg’s feet to no avail!

Riley: “Frost is just postponing the inevitable. He doesn’t want to be out here, he doesn’t want to wrestle tonight, so just submit already. JD can catch the red eye out of this hell hole town and lord knows I wish I could go with him.”

JD steps off of the knee and faces Frost. He leans down to grab the knee, obviously going for his crucifix kneebar finisher. Frost reaches back to take the bottom rope with both hands and fires up his good leg to catch Drazon on the button of the chin with the toe of his boot. “Oooh,” moans the crowd and Jamie is thrown back with his eyes rolling back in his head. Frost stretches to grab the top rope and jerks himself to his feet. He limps very noticeably on that bad leg as he approaches Jay Dawg. Drazon recovers from the shot and goes to town on the knee with a series of wicked stiff martial arts kicks.

Stevens: “Drazon chops away on the mighty oak that is Frost! He’s not going down, but that might change right here…”

Jay Dawg takes a step back from his dazed opponent and windmills his body over with a tight spin. His foot flies with power and precision to slam into the side of the Icelander’s skull! Frost plummets to one knee, how he is still halfway up after that shot is a mystery. Frost’s head sways like a drunk at 3 in the morning trying in earnest not to pass out. Drazon backs into the far ropes and bolts off with mounting speed.

Riley: “He’s going for the Shining Black! Lights out! Party’s over!”

The fans scream blood-curdling warnings at the top of their lungs! Frost must have heard them somewhere deep in his rattled mind, for he falls to his side just as JD approaches him and rolls across the mat and under the bottom rope to the floor!

Riley: “Coward! Get back in that ring and job like a man!”

Stevens: “Drazon was just a millisecond away from jumping up on the extended knee to hit the Shining Black, but Frost took a powder to the floor. He’s standing on the outside, but clearly not in the best of shape.”

Drazon’s extreme focus, being totally lost in the moment, prevents him from snapping at having Frost simply avoid one of his most beloved of moves. Drazon trips a few paces to regain his footing, but never breaks stride. He hits the near ropes and bounces off toward the opposite strands. Frost stands on the outside with his head down and one hand on the apron. He shakes his head and lifts it. He heads for the ramp, hobbling the whole way. Jamie springs off the ropes, now going at a breakneck pace. He rushes ¾ of the way back across the ring and then throws himself into the air with a gasp of shock from the crowd. Just now at the foot of the ramp, Frost hears the exclamations of amazement and turns. Drazon soars over the ropes, his body straight and pointed like a missile, honing in on its chosen target of the Icelandic Iceman. Drazon sticks his arms out to tackle Frost as he nears him. Frost tries to sidestep the flying Hardcore Maniac, but doesn’t move fast enough on that bad wheel. Jay Dawg still clips him in the side of the chest before blowing past Frost and clanging face first into the steel ramp!

BANG!

Stevens: “Good lord! Drazon suicide dives onto Frost and damn near missed him!”

Riley: “But not quite! He hit him just enough to put him down!”

Referee Hall puts his hands in the air and starts his ring out count. (ONE) The fans continue to trill with shock at the reckless move on the part of Drazon. Jay Dawg appears to be out cold from the collision with the ramp while Frost is only merely pained from the blow to the side. (TWO) He takes stock of his many injuries while leaning back on the sloped ramp, winded and sweating from the grueling match. (THREE)

Stevens: “However, JD appears to be out. If he can roll Drazon into the ring he might be able to steal the victory on Jay Dawg’s own careless abandon.”

(FOUR) The audience roots for Frost to get up and he shoves himself into a sitting position. He bends the right leg at the knee and one can clearly see the massive swelling of it under his dark blue trunks. (FIVE) Drazon starts to stir slightly, his famous resolve and threshold for pain serving him well. (SIX) Frost forces himself to stand, making sure to put all the weight on his left leg. He hops in place with his bad leg hovering over the dented steel of the ramp. (SEVEN) He looks at Hall in the ring, his fingers counting off how long both men have to reenter the squared circle. One can tell from the look on his face that Frost is lost deep in thought; the many wheels and gears of his brain turning and calculating. (EIGHT) The shrill voice of Hall’s voice calling out breaks him from his stupor and Frost throws his hands up with a dead look in his eyes. He turns his back on the ring and limps; full of physical and mental pain too much to bear any longer. (NINE)

Stevens: “What the…Frost is leaving for the back! He’s giving up!”

Jay Dawg props himself up, still not fully conscious to what is going on around him. He sees Frost stalking up the ramp through hazy eyes and calls after him, “Get back here you pussy ass bitch!” (TEN) With a confused expression, Hall has no recourse but to call for the bell.

DING DING DING

Frost reaches the top of the ramp and once more looks back at the ring and hears Funyon’s announcement.

Funyon: “This match, by a referee’s decision, ends in a double count out!”

The fans murmur puzzled, a few even boo Frost for giving up. Drazon forces himself up to his knees and hurls a multitude of curses at Frost as he turns back around, hangs his head and limps through the curtain to the back. “YOU SNIVELLING SON OF A BITCH! GET BACK HERE! FIGHT YOU FUCKER!”

Riley: “This is ridiculous! Frost simply waltzes to the back because he feels like it? Lord knows he was going to lose anyway, but he didn’t have to be such a wuss about it. I am disgusted and appalled and knowing me, that’s hard to do.”

Stevens: “I have to say I’m nearly with you, Bobby. Frost just seemed to have had enough of the match and gave up. I don’t know what’s going through his mind, but he might not be long for the SWF or the wrestling world in general if he can’t change his attitude and fast.”

Drazon trips to his feet and pursues Frost, what might transpire in the back means little as this match is over and the show fades to black for another spate of ads.

May 10, 2003

The Fleetcenter crowd shows their continued exuberance as SWF Storm returns from their commercial break. Fans throw up their sign filled hands as the camera pans left and right to show the sell out crowd in all their glory. The picture quickly changes to the announcer's table where "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and his color commentator, Bobby Riley sit.

"Welcome back to Storm," says Stevens, "And if the matches held earlier are any indication, we are in for a beauty of a match next!"

"Whatever you say, Mark," scoffs Riley, "But I have my trusty pillow with me for just this occasion. Trust me ladies and gents, we don't have much for you but a couple of washed up has-beens. Go ahead and change the channel back to Baywatch for a while. I won't complain."

"Bobby, your pessimism isn't mirrored. Both of the competitors in our next match had a rough time at Battleground and are looking to rebound with a big win tonight," notes Stevens, "Taylor Nicholas Thompson was finally forced to tap to a move he had broken so many times in the past against his former leader, Tom Flesher."

"That's what you get for wrestling a God," replies Riley.

"Right," interrupts Stevens, hoping to avoid further brown nosing, "He's up against Beezel, who lost a hard fought cage match for the Hardcore Gamer's Championship to the australian giant, Janus. Ben Hardy caught up with the former title holder backstage for a few words about said match."

********************************************************************************

*

-=Moments Ago=-

The screen changes to show Ben Hardy running full speed to catch up with the flame covered high flier.

"Beezel! Beezel! Ben Hardy here, if I could just get a few words with you before you go out!"

El Scorcho stops at the words, and turns around to face the reporter with his arms wide open.

"I am nothing if I am not amiable, is that not correct Friend Hardy?" asks the fighter in his masked robotic tone, "Please, I can impart a few words of wisdom before my match. What do you wish to ask?"

"Thank you, first off what is your reaction to not only your loss but what happened in the aftermath of your match with Janus?"

The man called Beezel ponders his thoughts for a few seconds before replying, "I must admit, any loss is a disappointment. Even though I don't consider myself as... 'Hardcore' as most I thought I fared well in that match and continue to think I will do well tonight against Friend Thompson with those same rules."

"What are your thoughts on the return of Nathaniel Kibagami though?" asks Hardy.

"Friend Hardy, I have respect for Friend Silent although I am not well versed on why he is here. I admit some ignorance to this situation and feel it is not my place to comment," notes El Scorcho, "I simply look forward to my match tonight with Friend Dynomite. I remember his entrance to our great federation and knew he would grow to be a big player here. I look forward to any match where each man can hold the other in utmost respect. If you don't mind, I believe I must prepare for my match."

"Thank you for your comments, Beezel," says Hardy, turning around to face the camera, "That's all from back here, back to you Mark and Bobby!"

********************************************************************************

***

"The man must be loony to respect a renegade loser like TNT," scoffs Riley.

"Well, I know not everyone can take the stamina of kissing Flesher's ass all day and night," replies Stevens.

Before much more can come from the conflict building at the announce table, the tuxedoed announcer known as Funyon stand up and brings his microphone up to his lips.

"Ladies and Genlemen, our next match is for one fall and is goverened by Hardcore rules!" exclaims the ring announcer.

Quickly, Rivers Cuomo's voice floats into the FleetCenter:

I ain't fakin, I'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon!

A large red pyrotechnic flash comes and goes in an instant, leaving the flame-covered El Scorcho standing in the smoky aftermath as the song of the same name continues to play. Beezel gets the crowd to their feet as they sing along in unison with the now familiar chorus as he makes his way to the ring:

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!

"First," starts Funyon, "From Phoenix, Arizona and weighing in at two hundred five pounds... The SWF's own Man of Mystery: BEEEEEEZEEEEEEEEL!"

"This capacity crowd is showing their continued support for El Scorcho, even though we are still in the dark about his true identity!" exclaims Stevens, "But listen to this arena sing! I'm not even sure if you folks at home can hear me over this din!"

"Why couldn't they sing something good?" screams Riley, "Like some Elton John, or maybe a Queen song!"

"Or perhaps something from the Village People?" quips Stevens.

"Yeah, something like that!" says Riley, oblivious.

Beezel does his usual tap dance up the ring steps before stepping through the ropes. The mystery man jogs a few steps and jumps up and down attempting to loosen his body up for the upcoming fight. A guitar chord rings out inside the arena and hangs in the air, before the speakers shout out:

'Cause I'm T-N-T!!! I'm dynomite! T-N-T!!! And I'll win that fight! T-N-T!!! I'm a power load!

The crowd turns towards the entrance ramp where Taylor Nicholas Thompson stands with one hand raised in the air. He screams out in unison with the fans in the audience as the recording of AC-DC releases a loud:

WATCH ME EXPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOODE!!!

"And his opponent," begins Funyon, "From Aneheim, California and weighing in at two hundred sixty six pounds: TAYLOR! NICHOLAS! THOOOOOOOOMPSOOOOOOOON!!!"

TNT walks at a brisk pace towards the ring, his eyes locked onto his opponent. The former World Champion slides underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Once on his feet, the music stops as the referee, Mark Hebner, explains the rules of the match to both combatants. Beezel extends his hand out to offer a handshake to his opponent. Thompson looks at the hand in a peculiar fashion. Staring at the high flier, TNT hesistates but slowly gives his own hand out in response. Both men shake hands and then step back, waiting for the official bell as the crowd applauds at the mutual respect between the two.

"Even in a hardcore match there can be a show of honor," notes Stevens, "These two aren't going to pull punches, but I have a hard time thinking that any cheap shots will be thrown here."

"Please, Mark. We got the village idiot and his ugly brother in the ring in a hardcore match and you're yapping about respect. Who cares, let's just get this over with," moans Riley.

Hebner calls for the bell to be rung to make the match official:

DING

TNT and Beezel begin in a collar elbow tie up, both men trying to make a show of strength over the other that the masked man quickly loses. Thompson throws El Scorcho backwards with ease causing the high flier to land flat on his back. However, Beezel kips up back to his feet with ease, nodding as if to concede the strength advantage to his adversary. The mystery man runs to the ropes behind TNT, rebounding and leaping off his feet to hit a flying shoulder tackle... and lands right back on the mat as TNT simply absorbs the blow, knocking Beezel down. Thompson drags the lighter man back up to his feet and locks him up in a tieup again, pushing El Scorcho backwards into the turnbuckle. Taylor releases the hold to grab Beezel's arm and irish whip him across the ring. Beezel hits the corner hard with a thud and slouches against the ring ropes, unaware of his opponent charging in and landing a HARD lariat in the corner!

"Beezel's early testing of Thompson's strength only leaves him on the recieving end of some punishment," calls Stevens, "TNT gains the advantage and would do well to keep the pace slow."

Riley simply yawns in reply.

TNT whips Beezel back across the ring, charging immediatly after him. El Scorcho reacts quickly, stepping on the first rope, then the second and using his momentum to flip himself backwards over the attacking Thompson! The dreadlocked man staggers backwards after hitting the turnbuckle hard face first. Beezel takes the opportunity to land a hard kick to TNT's side, causing him to bend over slightly in pain and shock. El Scorcho locks on a reverse headlock but doesn't get the opportunity to take his plan any further. Taylor straightens up, lifting Beezel high in the air in the process. Considering his options, Thompson decides to dump the lighter man over the top rope to the concrete floor below. Beezel lands hard on the ground and arcs his back in pain after the impact. Thompson steps through the ropes and stands on the ring apron for a second before deciding to point an elbow at his opponent and drop it onto him from up high! Beezel screeches out in pain as Hebner steps through the ropes and jumps down to the ground to follow the action. TNT hooks a leg, causing the official to drop for a count...

ONE! TWO! KICKOUT!

"Solid kickout at two from Beezel showing he's nowhere near done," comments Stevens, "but if he can't get some offense in it may be a moot point."

"This whole match is moot. I can feel our ratings slip as we speak," says Riley.

"You're mister optimism tonight, aren't you?" asks Stevens sarcastically.

Taylor gets up to his feet, bringing Beezel up with him. He nonchalantly locks up with his opponent and snaps him up as if he weighed no more than a feather. Without ceremony, TNT drops backwards, making sure to drop his opponent back first onto the steel entrance ramp. El Scorcho again cries out in agony as his back takes more punishment. Taylor doesn't remove the hold however as he drags Beezel up and again lifts him vertically, holding him up long enough to turn back around to face the ring, and drop Beezel backfirst to the unforgiving steel a second time. A mixed reaction is the crowd's reply for Thompson's attack plan as he again lifts El Scorcho up for a third suplex attempt. On his feet, TNT lifts up only to feel his momentum blocked by Beezel's foot locking onto his leg. Taylor tries to power through the move but can't get the lighter man up. Beezel takes it upon himself to leap up himself, dropping to his knees and sending a jolt of pain through Thompson's face and jaw. The attack breaks the larger man's hold on him but his knees take the brunt of the blow as Beezel rolls away, trying to nurse his back and knees at the same time.

"El Scorcho finally found a way to stop TNT's deadly suplexes to the steel ramp," notes Stevens, "But he didn't come out of it scott free. You have to admire the man's bravery after absorbing incredible amounts of damage in the steel cage match but it makes you worry if he's stretching himself too thin here."

"I just hope I get to see these two twits hurt themselves as much as they bash each other. It might make this interesting," replies Riley.

Beezel rolls to his feet holding his lower back. The masked man backs up as his opopnent begins to follow him up the ramp. Thinking quickly, El Scorcho feigns for a punch but pulls it back as TNT goes to protect his face. Beezel then counters with a hard kick to Thompson's ribs, staggering the dreadlocked man backwards a second. El Scorcho sends another hard kick to the larger man's knee, causing it to buckle underneath him. As TNT drops down to one knee, Beezel feels the momentum swing his way and decides to capitalize. Jogging backwards up the ramp, Beezel pats his right leg to call his next attack. The high flier runs forward, stepping on his opponent's knee and turning in mid air to whip a hard kick at... nothing! Beezel underestimates the ramp's angle and misses TNT's head! Shocked at the miss, Beezel is ill-prepared to land and hits the steel ramp face first! The crowd gasps in shock at the nasty nature of the fall. TNT shakes off the cobwebs enough to turn around and see his opponent flop onto the ramp. Floating over, TNT hooks a leg as Hebner runs up to make the count...

ONE! TWO! THR... KICKOUT!

"Now THAT was entertaining," guffaws Riley, "There's nothing better than watching an idiot land roughly on some good old fashioned hard steel. We need to get a replay of that one!"

On demand, the video crew splices in a replay of the nasty fall Beezel took off the missed Shining Wizard.

"Beezel kicks out of a close one, but kudos to TNT for capitalizing immediatly on the mistake of his opponent," calls Stevens, "It looks like the masked man misjudged how high the ramp would cause him to be off the Shining Wizard attempt. The ball is now back in TNT's court and as a former World Champ, I'd expect him to take full advantage."

Frustrated by the kickout, TNT roughly drags his opponent up to his feet. Locking his arms around his opponent's waist, the dreadlocked Thompson hefts Beezel up and tosses him over his head with a gutwrench suplex! El Scorcho lands hard on the top of the ramp backfirst. He rolls over, holding the small of his back and kicking the steel hard to try and push away the pain. TNT walks up to his opponent and drops an elbow right onto Beezel's back! Thompson decides to try and end the match right here and grabs one of his opponent's feet. Rising up, TNT wraps his arm around Beezel's ankle and proceeds to sit back, locking in a single crab on El Scorcho! The masked man feels the pressure on his back and begins to scramble madly for something or someone that could get him out of the hold.

"Single leg crab from TNT, smartly going right to where he knows his opponent is hurting!" exclaims Stevens, "And this is hardcore rules, no rope breaks, falls count anywhere! There's nothing to help Beezel now and it seems a lock for Thompson to get the win tonight!"

"Well, if nothing else I can watch someone's back get broken," sighs Riley, "Perhaps this match wasn't a total waste after all..."

Beezel screams out in pain, his robotic voice warbling out in a death rattle. The high flier places his hands flush against the steel ramp and pushes up with all his strength. Ever so slowly, a crack of space appears below Beezel's torso as he strains to relieve some of the pressure of the hold. Even as TNT rocks himself backwards, El Scorcho continues to push downward as hard as possible. His tinny voice screaming out his pain and frustration as an inch of space shows up underneath El Scorcho. TNT counters by pulling back hard on his opponent's leg, sending Beezel back down flat onto the steel. Some of the crowd chant out TNT's name, while others begin a chant of "Let's Go Bee-Zel! *clap clap clapclapclap*". Hebner asks the masked man if he wants to submit but he rolls his face on the steel in the only way he can respond 'no'.

"TNT has Beezel in a tough spot. The guy is not known for his strength but his speed and Thompson has done an incredible job of keeping him grounded from the opening bell," calls Stevens, "I honestly don't see Beezel getting out of this besides submitting. There is no reason to risk injury here."

"In that case, keep it up Beezel!" yells Riley, "We wouldn't want you to throw away this match, even if it means paralyzation! Keep up the good fight!"

"You're a sick man, Bobby," rebuts Stevens, "A sick, sick man."

Beezel presses his hands against the steel a second time, pushing with all his might. TNT yells back at his opponent to give in and submit to the hold. El Scorcho ignores the cat calls, pushing hard against the ramp and again creating a crack of space. The pain racking his body becomes intense, causing spots to appear before his eyes. In a last ditch effort, Beezel simply pushes off the ramp and throws his hands upward, hoping to grab or hit something, anything on his opponent's body. Closing his fists, he feels something in his hand and pulls hard as he falls back to the ramp. Suddenly, Thompson only feels his head snap backwards as Beezel allows gravity to help pull on his dreadlocks. The force of the blow shocks TNT and forces him to fall backwards onto Beezel but releasing the hold he had on the high flier's leg! Most of the crowd applaudes at the surprise move but it motivates Thompson to get back to his feet and attempt to end the match in one shot. Dragging Beezel up to his feet, TNT floats around his opponent and lifts him up in a fireman's carry from behind! Recognizing the setup, some of the more sensitive crowd begins to cry out against the attack...

"Oh no, this is not good," says Stevens, "TNT has Beezel up for a Detonation Drop! On the steel ramp no less, this is flat out the end of the match if he hits it! There is NO chance of Beezel getting up from this."

TNT secures the hold on his opponent, trying to keep his balance aganist the squirming of Beezel. Feeling ready to land the powerful attack, Thompson screams out at the audience "WATCH ME EXPLOOOOOOOOOO...."

*CLANG*

"What the HELL???" screams Stevens, "It's Tod deKindes! Tod just came out of nowhere and hit TNT in the face with a steel chair! This was a fair match to this point!"

"Well, life isn't fair Mark," replies Riley, "And I'm filled with nothing but joy to see TNT possibly get screwed out of this match! Hardcore rules! No disqualification, Mark. Tod could just romp on both these twerps and choose a winner himself!"

"But what is he here for? What the hell is wrong with deKindes? This wasn't his fight!" exclaims Stevens.

Thompson staggers backwards from the surprise blow, loosening the hold his arms had on his prone opponent. deKindes stands at the entrance ramp, ready to launch another attack if need be, but stands back as Beezel finds a way to flip himself off TNT. Confused as to how the hold got loose, El Scorcho comes off awkwardly, his arm still caught around TNT's neck. Deciding to follow through, Beezel tightens his grip on TNT's neck and drives himself backward, spiking Thompson's head onto the hard steel in a DDT! Out of habit, Beezel hooks a leg as Hebner has no choice but to make a cover....

ONE! TWO! THREE!!!

DING

"Your winner, by pinfall at nine minutes and fourty three seconds... BEEEEZEEEEEL!"

Getting up to his feet, Beezel raises his arms in victory but then lowers them in confusion at the sight of Tod deKindes. The german claps and smiles at Beezel before picking the steel chair back up and hitting a home run with the masked man's face! El Scorcho drops backwards and lands with a thud on the steel, motionless. The crowd rains down boos upon the intruder to the match. Tod starts to drag TNT to his feet as Hebner tries to break the two up...

DING DING DING!

"Dammit, I was hoping to see a great match between two fighter who respected one another," yells Stevens, "And this... this FIEND has the gall to make his presence known now. Why, Tod? Why?"

deKindes pushes Thompson up to his full height, and then SLAPS him across the face hard! Tod slaps TNT again, and again, and again to humiliate the former World Champion. Without warning, deKindes picks the chair back up and swings for the fences... but TNT catches the chair in his hands! The crowd pops huge for Thompson who wrenches the chair out of the intruder's grasp and makes a swing at him! The german barely gets out of the way of the attack, backpedaling at first but then turning and flat out running away backstage. TNT looks back to see Beezel slowly getting to his feet. Figuring his opponent to be alright, Thompson keeps the chair and rushes backstage to find deKindes.

"A rather disappointing end, but when it's said and done, Beezel gets the win here tonight," notes Stevens, "But the real story is the sudden reappearance of Tod deKindes! What's his game? why did he go after TNT now?"

"I don't know, but I can't wait to find out. deKindes is definitly a happy surprise for my evening and made that worth watching. Follow it up with our main event and the yummy Tom Flesher as guest referee... I couldn't be happier!" exclaims Riley.

"We'll try and follow this up backstage after commercial, hopefully we can get a camera on this developing situation, but until then stay tuned for our main event on S! W! F! Storm!"

May 10, 2003

As we return to the jam packed, rowdy Fleetcenter, we find Funyon standing tall in the center of the ring, microphone in hand!

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is under submission rules.

Suddenly the hypnotic melodies of In Flames’ “Jester Dance” bounces it’s way out of the loud speakers, setting off an explosion of cheers. Williams appears on the platform, wearing his newly won ICTV Championship.

Funyon: Introducing first, weighing in at 245 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky................THE ICTV CHAMPION, DANNY WILLIAMSsssssssssssss!!!

Williams confidently marches down the aisle like a warrior going into battle, while the fans joyously drench him in dark red streamers!

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Storm! Right now, we’ve got Danny Williams taking on Nielsen of the Jungle in what is sure to be interesting submission match to say the least.

Riley: The submission stipulation heavily favors the ICTV Champion, since Nielsen doesn’t know a wristlock from a wristlock.

Stevens: I believe the phrase is wristlock from a wrist watch.

Riley: That’s what I said, wristlock from a wristlock.

Stevens: At any rate, Danny Williams is looking to pick up his second big win over an established veteran, and believe me, stipulation or not, it won’t be easy. While the Suicide King devised this match with the intention of punishing the Jungle King, Nielsen’s drive for vengeance and to prove himself a worthy World Title contender, may give him the edge he needs to pull off the victory.

The “Jester’s Dance” fades out, and is suddenly replaced by the wailing vocals of Disturbed!

Fuynon: And his opponent, also weighing in at 245 pounds, hailing from Chicago, Illinois..............NIELSEN OF THE (crowd: MOTHER FUCKING!) JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNGLE!

Alone, Nielsen stomps his way down the ramp, while the crowd chants his name! While his reception is a positive one, it’s obvious the crowd support is split.

Stevens: Michelle noticeably absent from Neilsen’s side, our prayers and thoughts are with her, and we wish her a speedy recovery. What Suicide King at Battleground was......

Riley: Now wait just a minute, Stevens! Don’t you dare blame the Suicide King for this, if Neilsen didn’t verbally assault Michelle and leave her alone, the whole incident would have never happened.

Stevens: Like Nielsen said earlier today, he may have been wrong, but it doesn’t excuse the King’s actions.

Riley: You f(bleep) with the bull, you get the horns! If she’s gonna help humiliate our fair and honorable commissioner than she should be ready to face the consequences. Strangler is gonna get his later on in the Main Event, and now Nielsen is gonna get his in a couple of minutes!

Stevens: Well that remains to be seen, Riley. If Nielsen can overcome the odds, pull off the victory it would indeed prove what most already know, that he should be the number one contender for the World Title. But if Danny Williams can do what most expect him to do tonight, it won’t only cement his place at the top of the card, but it may prove that a World Title shot isn’t too far down the road.

Williams and Nielsen are warming up in the corners, while the anxious crowd watches on. With both men in place, and Funyon out of harm’s way, Soapdish calls for the bell!

DING! DING! DING!

The crowd gives a massive applause as Williams and Neilsen jog out of their corners, turn a circle, and clash together in a collar elbow tie up! Both men jockey for control, neither gaining a clear cut advantage just yet.

Riley: How odd it is to see Neilsen start a match with a grapple.

Stevens: Though he prefers low blows and weapons, Neilsen can be a rather average to good ring technician when he wants to be. And considering how angry Neilsen was when he saw the odds on the match, it looks like he may attempt to beat Williams cleanly just to prove the doubters wrong.

Riley: What a dumbass, he should beat Williams with anything that isn’t nailed down, give him a couple of nut shots, and than slap on a submission, because that’s the only way he can beat Danny Williams in a match like this. Though Williams isn’t no Tom Flesher, he sure as hell is a better grappler than Neilsen.

Drawing from his super roid powers, Williams muscles Neilsen down into a suffocating side headlock. Neilsen runs Williams into the ropes, and shoots him off the elastic cables, freeing himself from Danny’s clutches! Danny bounces off the ropes, and comes speeding back at Neilson against his will! Not having enough time to mount an attack, Neislen drops down, forcing Williams to hurdle over him! Neilson hurries to his feet, just in time to leap frog over Williams on his return run! Williams slings shots off the ropes yet again, picking up blinding speed, so blinding in fact that he runs right into a....

SMACK!

Stevens: Excellent Dropkick!

Neilsen returns to his feet with a kip up to the roar of the crowd. In less flashy fashion, Williams also stumbles to his feet, but Neilsen is ready! Neilsen springs into the air, and kicks his legs out for a second Dropkick...

Thump!

but Williams steps to side, letting Neilsen splat on the mat! Without a second to lose, Williams quickly takes hold of Neilsen’s left foot, scissors his leg, and drop back for the Crucifix Kneebar! Neilsen starts screaming like a mad man, prompting the fans to spring out of their chairs in anticipation of the tap out.

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

Riley: HA, THIS DAMN THING IS ALREADY OVER WITH!

Looking for any relief from the pain, Neilsen frantically rolls over on his stomach, forcing Williams to modify to a less painful but still unbearable Reverse Achilles Tendon Hold! Digging his nails into the mat like he’s trying to crawl out of a well, Neilsen painfully pulls himself to the sanctuary of the ropes. The fans quiets down, and get back in their seats.

Stevens: Close call for the King of the Jungle, getting a painful reminder of how quickly Williams can end a match.

Riley: You an’t kidding, Stevens.

Williams isn’t done yet, keeping his grip on Neilsen’s boot, he stands up, and rips him off the ropes! Danny drags Neilsen back to the center of the ring to reapply the hold, but Neilsen turns over on his back, draws back his boot and....

Crack!

slams right it into Williams’ face! Williams drops Neilsen’s leg, and staggers back in daze. Taking full advantage of the situation, Neilsen hurries to his feet, only to eat a flush Elbow Smash from the now recovered ICTV Champion!

Crack!

Neilsen wobbles but not enough that he can’t return fire with a big haymaker!

Crack!

Looking Ali at the end of the first Frazier fight, a glassy eyed Williams responds to the blow by slumping over with his arms lifelessly dangling out in front of him. Sensing he’s got Danny hurt, Neilsen draws back his balled up fist, and takes a big swing....

Crack!

connecting with a vicious right hook! Williams momentarily goes completely limp, dropping to a single knee, before oozing down on his back.

Stevens: And down goes Danny Williams, who obviously can’t brawl with the Hardcore veteran.

In a matter of seconds, Williams pops right back up, he wobbles a little like he’s going to go down again, but he somehow manages to maintain his balance. Moving in for the kill, Neilsen steps in for a big right hand....

Riley: Here’s the wind up!

but Williams side steps the haymaker, and catches Neilsen’s arm! Before Neilsen can react, Williams sends him to the mat with an Armbar Takedown, and instantaneously locks on a Fujiwara Armbar! Once again, the fans jump out of their seats, and make some noise!

Stevens: WAKI-GATAME! WAKI-GATAME! WAKI-GATAMEEEEEEEE!

Riley: Danny suckered him in that time!

Williams pulls with all his might, trying his damndest to hyper extend Neilsen’s arm! Neilsen looks for the ropes, but they are far out of reach, so he just rolls forward, stretches his leg out as far as humanly possible, managing to get a sandal on the bottom rope!

Stevens: That’s twice now, that Williams has successfully locked a submission hold Nielsen. If he isn’t more careful, this is gonna be a very short match.

Not pleased, Williams drags Neilsen up by his arm, jerks him to the center of the ring, and attempts another Armbar Takedown that leaves the fans on the edge of their seats! This time however, Neilsen isn’t got off guard, planting his boots firmly in the mat, refusing to budge. Williams stubbornly holds on, the element of surprise no longer present, he attempts to power Neilsen down the hard way. Knowing that this is one battle he can’t win, Neilsen dazzles the fans by dropping to one knee, rolling forward to his feet with a single arm handstand, slipping out of Williams’ clutches! Not stopping there, Neilsen catches his bewildered opponent with a fluid lighting quick Enzugiri!

Crack!

Blank faced, Danny freezes in place for a few seconds before stumbling back into a nearby corner!

Stevens: Incredible athletic reversal from the Lucha trained brawler!

Riley: Bah, just a bunch of flippy flop nonsense if you ask me.

Neilsen shakes out his arm, and climbs back to his feet, when suddenly Williams explodes out of the corner.....

SMACK!

running right into a piercing Dropkick! Feeling like he just took a shotgun blast to the gut, Williams blows back into the corner from whence he came, out of breath and sore.

Stevens: Just like against Drazon, Williams fought off the effects of the Enzugiri and tried a Running Elbow, but Neilsen is a bit quicker than Drazon.

Neilsen dusts himself off, and makes another attempt at getting back to his feet, to his delight there is no charging opponent this time. Upon seeing Williams back in the corner, Neilsen rushes in, pan caking him with a crowd pleasing Stinger Splash! Neilsen takes the flattened ICTV Champion by the wrist, and whips him out of the corner with authoriti! Williams bullets across the ring towards the unforgiven steel turnbuckles in the cross corner, Neilsen stays on his ass, with plans of squashing him again once he hits! Just as it seems that all hope is lost, Williams shockingly leaps up on to the second turnbuckle, and sling shots off at the charging manic behind him......

SMACK!

Williams floors Neilsen with a surprise flying Reverse Elbow to the amazement of the crowd!

Riley: What the hell?

Stevens: Beautiful and might I say a very unusual move from Danny Williams!

Williams rolls to his feet, and sprints out on to the apron. A bit winded from the heavy blow to the chest, Neilsen is slow to get up, allowing Williams to scale the turnbuckles and balance himself on the top rope! Neilsen rises to his feet, and spins around, finding Danny perched up top like a bird of prey! With no concern for his own body, Williams takes the plunge....

CRACK!

jamming a hard elbow in Neilsen’s face on his way down!

Stevens: DIVING ELBOW! DIVING ELBOOOOOOOOOOW!

Feeling vulnerable, Neilsen rolls out of the ring to regroup. Williams scrambles to his feet, and spots Neilsen on the outside. Acting fast, Williams launches himself off the ropes, and sprints across the ring prompting the fans to jump out of their chairs! Upon reaching the edge of the ring, Williams dives through the ropes like a human torpedo.....

CRACK! CLANK!

knocking Neilsen into the guardrail with a fan pleasing.....

Stevens: ELBOW SUICIDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Williams lands safely on his feet, while the King of the Jungle slides down to the floor with a busted jaw. Excited after the string of high spots, the fans begins to chant....

“DAN-E!” BOOM! BOOM! “DAN-E!” BOOM! BOOM!

To focused to bask in the love of the crowd, Williams drags Neilsen up by his tights, and tosses him up on the ring apron.

Riley: Who would have predicted this, Williams is actually beating Neilsen at his own game, scoring with high flying move after high flying move!

Stevens: Yes, but this is still Neilsen’s game, and the hell on wheels pace plays heavily into his favor. Danny’s done enough to get the advantage, now what he needs to do is exploit his power advantage, and take Neisen back to the mat.

Williams slides back into the ring, reaches over the ropes, and pulls Neilsen to his feet. Williams is literally dripping sweat now, as he prepares to bring Neilsen in the ring with a Vertical Suplex. Danny takes a couple of deep breaths, hoists Neilsen over the ropes, and drops back....

Boom!

Williams rushes to his feet, runs over to Neilsen’s feet, and as smoothly as one would tie a shoe lace, grapevines Neilsen’s legs in an Indian Deathlock! Instead of dropping back to snap his ankles, Williams leans forward, sits Neilsen up, and applies a double under hook to the confusion of the crowd. Using only Neilsen’s trapped arms as leverage, Williams lifts his ass a good two feet off the mat! Neilsen uncharacteristically cries out in pain, while the flinching fans watch on in astonishment!

Stevens: Creative Submission hold by Danny Williams, it looks like some sort of Indian Deathlock/Butterfly Lock combo!

Riley: Whatever it is it looks as painful as hell, and Neilsen looks like he’s ready to throw in the towel!

“Ask him!”, snorts Williams, struggling to hold Neilsen up!

Soapdish obliges, asking Neilsen if he wants to call it a night.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck Noooooooooo!” screams Neilsen at the top of his lungs!

Exhausted from holding the 240+ pound man up, Williams gives in, releasing the Jungle King’s arms, letting him drop back to the mat! Still keeping Neilsen’s legs tied up around his own, Williams drops back, working the Indian Deathlock! Neilsen screams in anguish, thrashing his arms about in search of the ropes, but none are to be found! Williams returns to a vertical base, and flops back again, crushing Neilsen’s ankles! The pain is unbearable, yet Neilsen refuses to give up! The crowd begins to chant....

“NIEL-SEN!” BOOM! BOOM! “NIEL-SEN!” BOOM! BOOM!

Riley: Williams is working that Indian Deathlock thing like a mofo, yet Neilsen is still hanging on somehow!

Stevens: Funny thing about the Indian Deathlock is that when your trapped in it, your not in constant pain. There is only a brief surge of pain when the applier drops back, therefore the attacker will usually tap out from the threat of more pain, rather than the actual pain itself. Neilsen has never been one to fear pain, which might explain why he hasn’t tapped yet.

The constant movement and fast pace is taking it’s toll on Williams, who is very slow to get back to his feet. Now completely soaked in sweat, Williams releases the Indian Deathlock, but hangs on to his left leg. Williams steps over the leg, and bends it against his own, sending into Nelisen pain induced seizures!

Stevens: Williams once again going old school with a Spinning Toehold!

Riley: What is this, Danny Williams unofficial tribute to Southern Wrestling?

Williams returns to his original position, but before he can twist his leg again, Neilsen catches him by his boot, and trips him up! In a flash, Neilsen scissors Williams’ leg, rolls over on his side, and tucks his boot under his arm pit!

Stevens: ACHILLES’ TENDON HOLD! ACHILLES’ TENDON HOLD!

Williams lets out a blood curdling scream, and begins desperately kicking at the side of Neilsen’s face with his free leg! This only further enrages Neilsen, who adds more pressure to the hold, threatening to snap Danny’s leg in half like a slim jim! The volume of Williams’ screams increase, giving the fans the impression that he might...

Riley: WILLIAMS’ IS GONNA TAP ANY MOMENT NOW!

As the pressure continues to build around his knee, Williams holds his hand out......

Stevens: THIS IS IT, DANNY’S GONNA TAP OUT!

but instead of tapping, Danny shifts his weight over, rolling over on his stomach, decreasing the distance between himself and the ropes, but not nearly enough to make them! Praying that the tendons in his leg can hold a few more seconds, Williams rolls over again, extends his hand, and clamps down on the bottom rope!

Stevens: ROPE BREAK!

Wanting to punish Williams, Neilsen keeps the hold applied, drawing some scarce “boos” from the crowd! After a quick three count, Neilsen finally releases Williams, who frantically rolls out of the ring in agony. Neilsen remains seated on the mat, taking some time to stretch out his sore limbs with some toe touches.

Riley: Now I’ve seen it all, Neilsen of the Jungle actually countered a submission hold with one of his own?

Stevens: I think we all under rate Neilsen’s technical abilities, including Danny Williams, who might have gotten a little to cute with that Toehold.

Like a wild animal smelling blood, Neilsen slides out of the ring after his wounded prey. Williams is on the floor, clutching his knee and grimacing. Neilsen stomps Williams without mercy, before yanking him up by his arm. The Jungle King tucks his head under Danny’s arm pit, hooks his outside arm around his waist, and bends his leg horizontally with the other. With a ferocious growl, Neilsen lifts Williams up, and drops him knee first on the guardrail with a...

Stevens: KNEE BREAKER! KNEE BREAKER ON THE GUARDRAIL!

His leg grotesquely tucked under his ass, Williams sits on the guardrail with his mouth hanging open like he wants to scream, but is in just to much damn pain too. Keeping his head tucked under Williams’ arm, Neilsen lifts Williams off the guardrail, balancing him on his shoulder! Neilsen stalls, and than drops back...

THUMP!

splattering Williams on the unforgiven floor with a brutal Belly to Back Suplex!

Stevens: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK DROP!

Riley: That can’t be good for your spine!

Neilsen pushes some guardrail back away from the ring, and carefully arranges Williams’ legs so that his left one is extended out further than the other. With Williams in place, Neilsen jumps up on the ring apron, prompting the fans to get their cameras ready. Camera flashes light up the arena like strobe lights in a dance club as Neilsen jumps high off the apron like a bird taking flight! Once he reaches his peak height, Neilsen brings his knees and arms into this chest....

Stevens: FIVE STAR FROG SPLASH FROM THE APRON!

Neilsen stretches his limbs back out on the way down, crushing Williams’ left leg with a lateral press!

Riley: He landed right on Williams’ knee too!

Revived from the pain, Williams sits up, screaming his head off! Neilsen pulls his crippled opponent to his feet, takes hold of his tights, and rolls him into the ring. Rather than get back in himself, Nielsen takes hold of Williams’ boot, and drags him over to the ring post. Nielsen reaches around the ring post, takes hold of Williams’ other boot, and yanks him crouch first into the steel post!

“Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”, moans the men in the audience who aren’t turning away in horror.

Riley: I don’t understand this negative reaction, they’ll cheer him on while he assaults his boss, yet they’ll boo him when he just trying to win a match.

Stevens: It does seem that the crowd is turning against Neilsen, but than again Danny Williams has grown on the fans a lot as of late

With Williams in shock from the low blow, Neilsen experiences little resistance in viciously

slamming the ICTV Champion’s knee into the ring post!

DING!

Neilsen repeats this heinous act two more times while the crowd continues to “boo” away!

DING! DING!

Neilsen leaves the scene of the crime, only to return in a few short moments with a shiny, metallic chair! Soapdish pokes head through the ring ropes, shouting threats at the King of Hardcore, but they all on deaf ears. Neilsen reels back like he’s at the plate, and takes a big swing that would make Mark McGuire envious...

CLANK!

Neilsen slams the chair into the side of Williams’ knee, crushing it into the ring post!

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!”

Soapdish is irate, but it doesn’t matter, because Neilsen tosses the chair aside before he can do anything. Neilsen takes hold of Williams’ legs, bends them into the shape of a four, and drops back on the floor to the “ah”s of the crowd!

Stevens: OH MY, A RING POST ASSISTED FIGURE FOUR!

Riley: NOW THIS IS SOME HARDCORE SUBMISSION WRESTLING, STEVENS!

His eyes lit up with indescribable pain, Williams quickly sits up, grabs hold of the ropes, and starts screaming at Soapdish,” I’M ON THE ROPES, GOD DAMMIT!”

Soapdish quickly counts to three, and orders the break! Not wanting to risk a D.Q., Neilsen releases Williams, who crawls out of the corner like his leg has been amputated.

Stevens: It may not have gotten the submission, but I guarantee that it has done irreversible damage to Williams’ knee!

Neilsen jumps up on to the ring apron, and scales the turnbuckles like Tarzan. Neilsen observes his target with hungry eyes, waiting for Williams to hobble to his feet, before leaping down at him....

Stevens: Neilsen, taking flight!

drilling the back of Williams’ knee with a beautiful Missile Dropkick! Williams pulls his leg off the mat, and spirals to the floor, kicking and screaming. Neilsen scrambles back to his feet, gets a hold of Williams’ legs, applies a Spinning Toe Hold, and falls back for the.....

Stevens: FIGURE FOUR!

But Williams resists, palming the heel of Neilsen’s sandal, preventing him from bringing it down across Danny’s ankle to add pressure to the hold!

Riley: NO, DANNY’S BLOCKING IT!

Stevens: BUT HOW LONG CAN HE HOLD OUT!

Every muscle in Williams’ arm twitches with strain as Neilsen attempts to power his leg down. The fans try to get Danny through it, chanting.....

“DAN-E!” CLAP! CLAP! “DAN-E!” CLAP! CLAP!

Williams knows he won’t be able to block the move forever, so he begins stealthily scooting himself back to the ropes with his other arm. Just when the ropes are within arm’s reach, Neilsen powers his leg down across Danny’s ankle!

Stevens: HE LOCKED IT ON!

Williams lets out a blood curdling scream, but he manages to keep his head on straight! Knowing how close he his, Williams leans back as far as he can, and grabs hold of the ropes!

Riley: It doesn’t matter, Williams is in the ropes!

Stevens: Danny blocked the move long enough to make the ropes! Because his knee is hanging on by a thread, a second longer in the hold would shatter his leg for sure!

Beginning to look frustrated, Neilsen releases Williams’ and drags back to the center of the ring by his leg. Neilsen drops a big elbow across Williams’ knee, stays seated, and starts pulling his shin towards his chest!

Stevens: A LEG BAR! It may not be as complex or dangerous as a figure four, but considering the shape that Danny’s knee is in, it still may be enough to force the tap!

Suddenly, Williams brings his other leg around Neilsen’s throat, forcing him down on his back, and scissoring his shoulder! The crowd gives a thunderous ovation as Williams sits up, and takes hold of Neilsen’s wrist!

Stevens: WITH AN AMAZING COUNTER, DANNY HAS REVERSED THE LEG LOCK INTO A JUJI-GATAME!

Riley: After what happened at Battleground, I’m surprised he’s gonna take the risk in a non title match!

Stevens: Winning is about taking calculated risks, and this is one risk that Danny feels he has to take!

Neilsen clamps his hands together like a padlock, doing his best to prevent Williams from straightening his arm out! Biting his lip, Williams grunts and strains with all his might, but Neilsen has got a death grip! Having bought himself some time, Neilsen sits up, and begins rolling Williams over in a school boy type position. Danny tries to power Neilsen back down with his legs, but the pain in his knee is far too great, allowing Neilsen to make it all the way to his feet. Not wanting be caught vulnerable on his back, Williams keeps Neilsen’s arm scissored to prevent him from attacking. With his free hand, Neilsen reaches down and grabs a handful of Williams’ tights.

Riley: Hey wait a minute, Nielsen’s got Danny in position for the....

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”, grunts Neilsen as he forcefully pulls Williams’ heavy body off the mat, barely getting him over his waist line! In that instant, Neilsen doubles over, driving Williams into the mat with a brutal....

Stevens: CLOVERBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMB!

Williams hits the mat with a bone crushing thud, reducing him to a drooling zombie! Keeping his legs grapevined, Neilsen smoothly rolls Williams over, and sits back for the Texas Cloverleaf!

Stevens: THE SUPERIOR STRETCH! THE SUPERIOR STRETCH!

The fans blow the roof off the place, suspecting that Williams will tap at any second!

Riley: THERE’S NO WAY DANNY’S KNEE CAN HOLD, THIS MATCH IS OVER WITH!

True to Riley’s words, Williams’ knees pop and crunch as a growling Neilsen adds maximum pressure, leaning back as far as he possibly can! Looking ashamed of himself, Williams buries his head into the mat, and holds his hand out....

Stevens: THAT’S IT, DANNY’S TAPPING!

As if he changed his mind, Williams pulls his hand back, and summons his power to the delight of the fans. His eyes shooting out of his head like a cartoon character, Williams pushes his chest off the mat, and starts walking on his hands towards the ropes! Neilsen struggles to keep the hold applied, but Williams won’t be denied! With every defined muscle in his body visible from strain, Williams bursts forward, throwing his arms out....making the ropes!

Stevens: UNBELIEVABLE, DANNY HAS SURVIVED THE SUPERIOR STRETCH!

Riley: BUT HIS LEG IS SHOT!

Looking exhausted, Neilsen releases Williams, and wobbles back to his feet. Dripping sweat and out of breath, Neilsen takes hold of Danny’s boot, and attempts to drag him off the ropes to the hellmouth that is the center of the ring. However this proves to be most difficult, considering Danny has no plans of going back to that hell, desperately clinging to the ropes like his life depends on it! To Neilsen’s surprise, Williams twists around, and boots him right in the mouth with his free leg!

POP!

Neilsen staggers back, clutching his mouth like he’s trying to hold his teeth in. In constant pain, Williams crawls to the nearest corner, and with the aid of the ropes, begins pulling himself up despite the fact his left leg is dead, killed, gone. Neilsen pulls his hand back, finding that it’s covered in blood, sending the Jungle King into a homicidal rage! No longer holding back on the kid, Neilsen charges in, assaulting Williams with a flurry of vicious haymakers to the body!

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Having tenderized Williams, Neilsen spins him around so that it is now the Jungle King who has his back in the corner. Neilsen hops up on the second turnbuckle, and tucks Williams head down in a front facelock!

Stevens: NEILSEN, PREPARING TO BREAK WILLIAMS’ SPIRIT FOR GOOD WITH A TORNADO DDT!

Riley: IF HE CAN HIT IT, DANNY WILL BE STUNNED LONG ENOUGH TO LEAVE HIM VULNERABLE FOR A SUBMISSION HOLD!

With the fans on their feet, Neilsen spins a finger in the air, and gets ready for take off, but Danny hooks an arm around the top rope, foiling his plans! Snarling like a wild beast, Neilsen releases Williams, and begins driving rabid punches down into his face!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

In an unexpected turn of events, Williams catches one of those rabid punches, refusing to give Neilsen his hand back! To the amazement of the crowd, Williams painfully hops on the second rope, and flips back, wrapping his legs around the captured limb! As Williams plummets to the mat, he drags Neilsen down with him, flipping him off the top turnbuckle....

KA-BOOM!

Neilsen and Williams hit the mat so hard, the damn ring threatens to cave in, leaving the crowd breathless!

Stevens: SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPER MINROU SPECIAL!

Despite taking a hell of a fall, Danny keeps Neilsen’s arm scissored for the Cross Armbreaker! The fans leap out of their seats, screaming at the top of their lungs as Williams adds pressure! Neilsen begins wildly thrashing his legs out in search of the ropes, but they are no where to be found!

Stevens: AND FOR THE FIRST TIME TONIGHT, NEILSEN IS FEELING THE STING OF THE JUJI-GATAME!

Riley: BUT CAN WILLIAMS HOLD HIM DOWN THIS TIME WITH THAT BUSTED UP LEG?

Neilsen can feel the ligaments in his elbow joint start to tear like a piece of tissue, giving him the impression that he doesn’t have much time left! Williams isn’t having a picnic either, the strain of holding Neilsen down is sending waves of crippling pain throughout his leg! Clinching his teeth to keep from screaming, Neilsen swings his free arm around, and begins pounding his fist into Danny’s bad knee! The pain is excruciating, but Williams holds on, knowing or perhaps praying that Neilsen is in even worse shape!

Stevens: AND NOW IT’S A BATTLE OF WILLS, WHO WILL OUT LAST THE OTHER!

Riley: Neilsen has been pounding the leg throughout most of the match, but than again, Danny is not the one in of the most painful and dangerous submission holds in the fed!

It no longer becomes an issue of pain as Neilsen begins to feel the pressure build to the breaking point in his elbow! Before his arm can break apart like a dry twig, Neilsen is left with no other option, but to tap out!

Stevens: HE’S TAPPING! HE’S TAPPING! NEILSEN IS TAPPING OUT!

Riley: I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I’M SEEING!

Soapdish calls for the bell, and the crowd completely goes nuts!

DING! DING! DING!

Williams releases Neilsen, and Soapdish raises his arm to make the upset official!

Funyon: The winner of the match of the match by submission at 13 minutes and 47 seconds..................DANNY WILLIAMS!

Upon hearing Funyon’s announcement, reality sits in for Williams who hobbles to his feet, triumphantly raising his fists in the air. To excited to remain still, Williams limps around the ring in celebration. Reality also sits in for Nielsen, who sits up, clutching his arm, while doing what he does best, shouting profanities.

Stevens: DANNY WILLIAMS HAS DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE AND MADE NIELSEN TAP OUT! Even though Nielsen’s offense was limited by the stipulation, this is indeed a HUGE UPSET!

Riley: I guess this means that Nielsen isn’t gonna get his title shot.

Stevens: On the contrary, Nielsen did considerably well for someone who had the odds stacked so high against him. Besides, do you really think that King would have given him the title shot anyway.

Riley: How dare you accuse the greatest commissioner in the history of this sport, of holding people back over personal grudges. Shame on you, King if you watching, Stevens is drunk, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about....

Stevens: I’m sorry fans, but we have to take a commercial break. Stay tuned, because up next we’ve got..

Riley: Justice and Rule kicking Strangler’s ass!

May 10, 2003

“And welcome back to another stunning addition of SWF STORM!” calls out Mark Stevens to the pleasure of the crowd gathered around the legendary competitor. “We are mere moments away from what is sure to be... one hell of a screw job.”

“What do you mean by that?” questions Riley with a smirk, as if he did not really understand Stevens’ statement.

“Do I have to bring up who exactly is going to be serving as referee here tonight in what is already an unbalanced handicapped match?” replies ‘Grand Slam’. “Of course I don’t, you have been talking about him all night long. It’s your most favorite wrestler ever, SWF World Champion Tom Flesher calling the match for his own Tag Team Champions. You just know that The Boston Strangler is going to get royally screwed over.”

“And although I want to feel sorry for him, for... uh reasons we don’t need to go into...” answers Riley with a sidelong glance away from the camera. “But Strangler had to know that he would be in for this kind of trouble when he turned his back on our beloved commissioner The Suicide King.”

Stevens, “Well true as that might be, its still worth noting that The Boston Strangler will stop at nothing, nothing to make his mark in the SWF once again. And to take out the tag team champions in a handicapped match would sure accomplish that. So without further ado, let’s head to the center of the ring and give a listen to the silky sound of Funyon.”

DING! DING! DING!

“Ladies and gentlemen,” begins the gifted announcing phenomenon, “this is your main event for the evening as to be contested under handicapped rules, two on one with the tag rule in effect. Introducing first, your special guest REFEREE...”

Knowing who is coming before Funyon can even read off his name, the Boston crowd bust into a series of profane catcalls and insulting language the moment the sight of "SUPERIORITY COMPLEX", “WORLD CHAMPION”, and "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN" appear across the huge SmarkTron.

BOOOOOM!

With the sound of an explosion of blue pyrotechnics deafening the arena for a split second, the sound of "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin bursts out over the loudspeaker. Tom Flesher emerges from the cloud of smoke, striding confidently to the ring wearing a lovely, embroidered referee’s shirt while still having the heavy gold World Title strapped around his waist. Flesher steps into the ring and poses in the center head bobbing in time with the music, until a burst of blue and white fireworks coming blasting out from each corner from each corner.

“He is the reigning, current, and perpetual SWF World Heavyweight Champion and the leader of the stable of champions known as The Magnificent Seven. He is the cleanest official since Jimmy Hoffa and would never, ever allow the rules to be broken unless he really doesn’t care. The man that calls it right down the middle, “The Superior One” TOMMMMMMMMMM FLESHERRRRRRRRR!”

Golf clapping his own introduction, Tom Flesher smiles to the people as they do the exact opposite to the man that represents all of them as the champion of the world. Used to the venom, Funyon simply prattles on with his announcing duties.

“Now introducing... The SWF World Tag Team champions!”

JUSTICE!

RULE!

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP!

With the sounds of ‘Rage Against the Machine’ blaring into the arena, red machine gun-like pyrotechnics shoot off on either side of the entrance ramp. A moment later comes the men that are determined to ruin a certain special person’s homecoming. Once again adorned with Justice and Rule hooded sweatshirts pulled over their heads come the world tag team champions.

“Weighing in at a total combined weight of 430 pounds and representing the Magnificent Seven, this is Judge William Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki. This is JUSTICE AND RULLLLLLLLLLE!”

Sliding into the ring, Hearford and Fasaki walk strait up to the referee this evening with huge smiles plastered against all of their faces, sharing a not so private joke. “The Superior One” puts his hands on both of his lackeys shoulders and gives them a little nod of approval before Justice and Rule break off to get themselves warmed up for the contest that is only one man away from getting started.

STRANGLER

With only one word on the SmarkTron, the crowd explodes for their hometown boy as the lights dim for only a second as the opening chords of “Godzilla” by Blue Oyster Cult start to play.

BOOOOOOOM!

A massive burst of white fireworks explodes from the stage that causes the crowd to grow even louder as Tom Flesher and his boys shield their ears from the deafening ovation. As the smoke begins to clear, The Boston Strangler emerges from the cloud of smoke to an even more frenzied display of affection. He raises one fist into the air as he looks out onto the crowd, then slowly begins to walk down the ramp. Sliding into the ring, and climbing to the second turnbuckle, Strangler raises both arms into the air as the crowd nearly orgasms at the sight.

“Now entering the ring, he hails from Boston, Mass. He stands six feet, nine inches tall! He weighs in an excess of three hundred pounds. He is THE BOSTON STRANGLERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR~!”

“And it’s no wonder that this packed Boston crowd is jacked up and ready for the television return of the man called TBS,” remarks Stevens. “But is that going to be enough to power this huge man through all the way to the victory here tonight against basically three men?”

“No, of course not. That brain dead roid-monke-”

“Bobbie!”

“Oh… yeah,” says Riley, nervously adjusting his tie after saying something he clearly wasn’t supposed to say, “As I was saying… That brain dead Sox fan to take down Justice and Rule? Four men couldn’t take down the Tag Team champs at Battleground, what chance does one man have?”

Still wearing the world title belt, Tom Flesher immediately stands right in the path of The Strangler as soon as the returning grappler steps off the turnbuckle. Motioning to TBS that he is going to perform a prematch frisking, Flesher looks on impatiently as The Boston Strangler stares a whole into this very partial official. Almost shrugging it off, TBS puts out his hands and feet as the World Champion checks him over quickly for any foreign objects. Finding nothing, Flesher gives The Strangler the thumbs up and turns to the other side of the ring.

“See Stevens,” interjects Riley, “Tom can be as fair as a midsummer’s day. He could have called the match off right there for improper fingernail length but is going to let this match get settled by swift and terrible vengeance.”

Muttering under his breath, ‘Grand Slam’ watches on as Tom Flesher walks over to his stable mates and asks them to undergo the same check that The Strangler just went through. Stepping up to the plate first, The Judge quickly undergoes a pat down and is waved right through customs by the special referee. Finally, Ejiro Fasaki steps forward for Flesher’s inspection that quickly uncovers a certain special something jammed into Fasaki’s tights! Pulling a small length of chain out of Ejiro’s pants, Tom immediately starts to berate his own protégé.

“What is this, young man?” questions Flesher as he waves the chain about. “You know your aren’t allowed to hold onto weapons like this! Here, hold this Bill,” spits out Tom as he passes the weapon to Hearford who immediately pockets the metal weapon. “If I see any more shenanigans or wild goings on, you’re going to find yourself out on your ass buddy. I enforce the law!”

Standing by, The Strangler basically breathes heavily in exasperation as The Magnificent Seven go through their little song and dance. Stepping to the middle of the ring with no shame at all, “The Superior One” goes through the appropriate motions to finally get this match started as Ejiro Fasaki steps to the apron, leaving the Judge alone to contest with TBS. Stepping into the center of the ring, Hearford cranks his old bones for a moment before locking up with the scarred Boston warrior. Immediately feeling the power of the big guy, Hearford is immediately shrugged off to the canvas as Strangler exerts just a little bit of his mighty power. Hitting the canvas, The Judge immediately pops right up to his knees and complains to the referee about a hair pull.

“What?” shouts out Stevens, “That was a clean power display if I have ever seen one, but Hearford is going to cry about it to the referee? Well, I think we all know why that is.”

Indeed as Tom Flesher gets right up in The Boston Strangler’s grill and eagerly warns TBS about pulling the hair and how such actions just will not be tolerated in his ring. Shrugging with a smile on his face, Strangler glares into the eyes of the World Champion.

“If you wanted to disqualify me that quickly, this match would already be over,” admits the returning wrestler, “Your boys want a piece of my hide first and YOU know it. I say, let them come and get some.”

“Fair enough,” counters Flesher as he steps out of the path of The Strangler and goes to take up a position in the corner of the ring.

Noticing the referee has removed himself from the path of the raging Strangler, The Judge immediately hooks back up in a collar and elbow position to keep TBS from turning this into a brawl just yet. Refusing to get shrugged off again, Hearford locks on tight as he and The Strangler posture about the ring before TBS muscles his smaller opponent into a corner. Refusing to release his grip, The Judge holds on long enough to allow Ejiro to sneak into the ring and slam into the back of the Strangler with a charging knee to the kidney! With the sudden jolt to his internal organs, TBS immediately finds himself under the assault of four powerful arms battering his flesh and rattling his bones. Battering their opponent, Justice and Rule listen on and laugh as Tom Flesher administers the five count in his own way.

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

“Hey, did I mention that you two had a five count to break this up? Because that is how much time you all have. You know that right? Okay.”

“One!”

“Two!”

“Four!”

“Oh wait, I made a mistake there. Three comes after four. My bad, I should have gone one, two, and then three and THEN four. I got to tell you, I forget stuff nowadays. I must be getting old. Oh well...”

“One!

“Two!”

Pulling the Boston Strangler between them, Justice and Rule send the mammoth man against the ropes and go for a double clothesline. But the powerful Strangler simply fights straight through both of his enemies and crams them into the canvas with clotheslines of his own! Snagging Ejiro before Judge can lend a hand, TBS almost casually deposits the smaller wrestler right over the top rope in order to get the match down to a one-on-one affair. Pressing The Judge into a corner, The Boston Strangler starts to go to work with a series of closed fists right to the body that threaten to shatter some bone as they impact with their target.

“That’s illegal” shouts out Tom Flesher from a safe distance as The Strangler just continues to batter away at Hearford with no regard for the official.

Winding up Hearford by the arm, The Boston Strangler whips William out just a few steps before bringing him right back into his arm with a devastating ham hock of a clothesline across the sternum. Turning in an instant as he catches Ejiro coming in out of the corner of his eye, Strangler lifts a heavy boot high into the face of his charging opponent. Leaving Hearford on the mat, TBS heaves Fasaki into a corner before slamming into the Asian superstar with a crushing spear into the corner!

GLOOOOOM!

Mashing Ejiro into the corner, The Boston Strangler looks on with glee as Rule stammers in the corner for a moment before staggering out towards the center of the ring and the waiting arms of the chowder crusher. With the 188-pound man across his chest, The Strangler turns his back to the rope for just second before heaving Fasaki right over the top rope with a fall away slam!

“Damn lack of an over the top rope rule!” mutters Riley as Fasaki lands in the vicinity of his feet, “if that rule was in effect, Tom could call this whole thing off already!”

“You know Tom wouldn’t do that, Riley,” answers Stevens, “The Seven is under orders from the man upstairs to put the hurting on The Boston Strangler no matter what! And what The Suicide King wants, Tom Flesher will provide ... for a price.”

But it is Judge Hearford that provides the bounty this time as he strikes the rising Strangler across the face with a hard punch across the bridge of the nose that knocks the larger man down before he can return to his vertical base. Diving down on top of TBS before he can start ascending once more, The Judge wraps his hands around The Strangler’s windpipe as Tom Flesher cheers his team on. Choking away however leaves Hearford open to something no one would really expect as The Strangler subtly reaches into William’s tights at the precise place where Hearford stored the chain! Fighting up under the pressure, The Strangler makes his way up to his feet where he suddenly breaks the chokehold and clocks The Judge right between the eyes!

WHAM!

“DAMN IT!” shouts out Flesher as Hearford slams into the mat, “This isn’t how this is supposed to happen!”

“Disqualify him, Tom!” coaches Bobby Riley; “He just hit Hearford with the chain for the love of god!”

Tom Flesher visibly shakes with anger as Strangler casually tosses the chain into the crowd to the loud appreciation of the people. But Flesher does not order a disqualification. He does not issue a warning. All the World Champion does is bubble over with anger. With The Boston Strangler look him dead in the face, “The Superior One” still refuses to let this opportunity for a two-on-one to get away. After all, Flesher himself has yet to feel the sting of a chain. Mentally deciding that Justice and Rule will get theirs eventually, Flesher turns his back on The Strangler and takes up position in the corner of the ring as a happy man continues his domination of the tag team champions.

Turning his attention away from the stammered Judge Hearford, The Boston Strangler steps out of the ring and grabs a hold of the hair of the battered Ejiro Fasaki before jamming his face right into the top of the announce table.

WHAM!

“It’s like The Boston Strangler has carte blanche here tonight!” calls out Stevens, “He can do anything he wants to Justice and Rule and Tom Flesher won’t call for the disqualification because a disqualification will take away The Magnificent Seven’s chance to brutalize TBS within the rules of law!”

Taking the blistered Fasaki by the hair, TBS casually tosses him right back underneath the bottom rope and back inside the confines of the ring as Flesher continues to stamp around the ring hoping for something, anything to turn this tide. Taking Fasaki by the arm, The Strangler heaves him into the ropes and spikes Fasaki into the canvas mat with a staggering Spinebuster slam! Floating over, The Strangler doesn’t even bother with a cover since he knows Flesher would never count out either member of the tag team champions. But there is still fun to be had in the mind of the man from Boston and he continues his assault by dropping down with elbow drops right to the sternum.

BOOM!

Standing tall in the center of the ring as Ejiro gasps for breath, The Boston Strangler lifts an arm to the crowd in salute for just a second before scraping the bottom of his boot across Ejiro’s eyes. Blinded by the burn, Fasaki immediately scrambles away from his opponent. But there is no solace for the tag team specialist as The Strangler continues to stalk his prey. Taking Ejiro by the arm again, TBS sends him across the ring with an Irish whip and follows right behind but gets beaten to the punch.

“Ejiro got a boot up to counter!” calls out Riley as Flesher takes a little hop into the air with joy as TBS staggers back away from the tag team champion.

Scampering up to the top rope as quickly as his battered body can carry him, Ejiro looks to establish himself with a flying elbow to the top of the head... but that just is not according to The Strangler’s plan!

“Caught in midair around the throat!” Stevens calls as The Strangler meets Fasaki at the pass with a big hand to the throat.

Adjusting his grip ever so slightly, The Boston Strangler heaves Ejiro high up into the air for ‘The Plunge’ chokeslam...

CRACK!

“Chop block to the back of the knees!” Riley says, “The Judge had a second chain! Just goes to show you how far ahead these guys plan…”

Allowing Fasaki his freedom, The Strangler feels his leg curl underneath his heavy body for just a moment before he collapses to the canvas. Gripping at his knee as Hearford and Ejiro try to reorganize their assault, the only thing TBS can see is the smiling face of the World Champion Tom Flesher.

“You’re done!” shouts ‘The Superior One’ while Hearford takes a moment to put away the chain, “You’re done! When they are through with you, you’re going to beg for this to end! You understand that?”

Stevens says, “That’s sick! For The Suicide King to put Tom Flesher in charge of this match, he might as well have put a bounty on The Strangler’s head. This is ridiculous.”

Riley responds, “Who said The King didn’t? I would not put anything past out fearless leader.”

“If he was so fearless, he’d fight his own battles man-to-man and not send some thugs out here to do the job?”

“King has to run an entire WRESTLING FEDERATION. That’s not something that just goes by itself. He ain’t gonna dirty his hands on some needle usin’-”

“BOBBIE!”

“I mean… um…”

While Riley tries to cover up his PR mistake yet AGAIN, Ejiro and the Judge confidently stride over towards the kneeling Bostonian. Ejiro goes “After you” with his hands and Hearford nods politely before giving Strangler a hard boot to the back of the head from behind! The crowd disapproves, and Flesher gives a golf clap as Hearford takes the injured knee and pulls it up into the air before slamming it hard into the mat. The Judge pulls it up and slams it again, and Ejiro slides through the ropes grinning and holding his arm out for the tag. Stepping overtop of the downed big man, Justice tags Rule, who rushes out and hits diving elbow drop on the bad knee. He quickly comes up to his feet and drops another elbow on the Superstation before quickly tagging in Hearford again.

“See? It was only a matter of time before Justice and Rule finally got around to working their tag magic on TBS,” says Riley as Hearford comes in and begins pulling Strangler, “Just look at those quick tags.”

“Magic? You mean like hiding a ref in your pocket and making a steel chain disappear?”

The Judge pulls up the big man and prepares… nothing as TBS smacks Justice’s arms away! Caught off guard, Hearford is introduced once again to big fists of the Red Sox fan, and he spins around, allowing Strangler to lock in a Full Nelson- No! Ejiro leaps over the ropes and dashes in from behind, hitting a low dropkick on the knee. The hoss releases the hold and tries not to go down onto a knee, but his body just doesn’t listen, and the little tagging exercise stops as Strangler is stuck on his ailing joint again. Turning around, Hearford winds up and gives TBS a stiff kick to the breadbox, and Strangler goes to the ground where the two begin to go at him with stiff boots to the head. But the upstanding referee Tom Flesher won’t stand for this.

“Guys, stop,” he says in a mock weak voice, “Come on, stop. Stop guys. Please.”

Of course, this doesn’t deter them in the slightest, and the Judge pushes Ejiro away for a moment. He grabs the stunned Strangler’s leg and takes his time as he wraps it around his own before lying backwards and locking in the Figure Four Leglock! Strangler expels a few painful breaths as the painful submission hold puts agonizing pressure on his knee. Even with the Judge attached to him he’s still able to move with his hands towards the ropes. He reaches out backwards for the ropes, only inches away, and Tom Flesher looks down at the big man near his feet with a smile before suddenly noticing something. He immediately puts his foot on the ropes, putting them out of reach of the Boston Strangler. Bending over, he ties his shoe, oblivious to TBS’ obvious plight.

“Whew,” says Riley, “Glad he caught that. I wouldn’t want him tripping and ruining his beauteous face.”

“Of course, you fail to notice Strangler’s plight...”

“Pfft, like I care if HIS shoes are tied. Besides, his face can’t get any more messed up than it already is.”

Tom ever-so-slowly ties the shoelaces together and TBS finally just gives up on getting to the ropes. Instead he begins to use his overwhelming power to try and flip himself over. The Judge starts to get in trouble, and just when Strangler starts to get over…

THWACK!

Ejiro comes in with a kick to his stomach! The crowd pours heat onto Rule as Strangler falls back onto his back, holding his stomach and wearing a grimace on his face.

“Oh, um…” Tom says, looking at Ejiro, “I don’t think you are allowed to do that.”

“Probably not.” responds the loyal subordinate.

“Okay then. You probably away from them.”

Ejiro takes a small step back and asks, “This good?”

“Sure. Now I’m going to turn my back for a moment…”

With that “hidden” signal Ejiro goes back to stop the steadfast Strangler from trying to flip over again. He throws out another boot… But the angry Strangler catches it! With eyes filled with the hate of being bullied, he yanks Ejiro off his feet. Fasaki begins to get right back up, but TBS is already pushing himself over. Just as Ejiro gets to his feet, the two linked men are put on their bellies, and the crowd cheers as the Judge lets go of the hold!

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” remarks Riley snidely, “That knee is as good as gone, and Justice and Rule will take him down in no time.”

Justice and Rule get up to their feet while Strangler gets to a knee. They both go to pick him up, but the insecure giant propels himself up and Steinerlines the tag team, nearly flipping both of them over with the force of the attack! The crowd goes wild and Tom instantly whips around at the sound of two bodies impacting on the canvas to see a limping Boston Strangler. His face is a mix of anger and frustration, but TBS doesn’t even notice as he pulls Ejiro up by the neck one-handed. He puts his fingers around Ejiro’s neck and slams him to the mat with a massive Chokeslam!

“And Ejiro takes a Plunge!” says Grand Slam over the massive ovation from the crowd as Tom Flesher begins yelling over at Strangler.

“Hey, don’t think you can pin him! He’s not the damn legal man! Bill-”

But Strangler doesn’t go for a pin, picking himself off the ground and gamely moving towards Flesher with eyes solely concentrated on the World Champion. Flesher puts his hands up in up in defense, trying to stop Strangler from doing what he thinks he’s going to do.

“I’ll DQ you! I don’t care about what I said anymore, I’ll get you thrown out of the fucking BUILDING if you even lay a hand on me.”

Heh, like THAT’LL stop him. Strangler gets ready to charge forwards, but again ‘Judge Mental’ stops him with a spear to the legs. TBS tries to stay on his feet, but only ends up spinning himself around as he tumbles to the ground. This time the Judge moves like a man possessed, taking advantage of the briefly confused TBS as he gets up and takes Strangler’s legs and puts them in another Figure Four leglock!

Strangler, in his state, can only think about going towards the ropes again, it ends slightly different than last time as Ejiro nails him with a boot to the face. Tom immediately yells something at Ejiro, and the Sarasota Cobra grins before taking one of the Bostonian’s arms and falls back, pulling it outward and allowing him to wrap his legs around Strangler’s arm and neck!

“Figure 7! Figure 7!”

“It’s a double submission, but it’s right at the ropes!” cries Grand Slam as the Judge keeps Strangler’s legs in a Figure Four while Ejiro slides in to put a triangle hold around Strangler’s neck.

“Ha! It’s over! No way Strangler can reach the ropes!”

The outnumbered man reaches out towards the ropes out of instinct, trying to find some relief from the pain as the two technical experts turn his body into one giant open nerve, pulsing with pain. His fingers brush against it, but just as he thinks he’s going to get it the unbiased Tom Flesher puts his foot up against the rope and pushing it away, no longer trying to use a lame reason to ‘excuse’ his actions. Strangler looks furiously at Flesher, who leans over with a stony face.

“You know, we could use an errand boy in the Magnificent 7, Strangler. You certainly have the muscle and the intelligence to do menial stuff like that. So how ‘bout it?”

Strangler doesn’t respond, continuing to stare at Flesher with a look that could put a hole in another man.

“I thought so. Well, it’s best that we don’t let in trash like you anyways. That was the one of the mistakes Chris Wilson made: He let some insecure, steroid using fool be his second in command.”

Again, Strangler doesn’t answer. He blinks hard, losing oxygen quickly, but doesn’t give an answer.

“Tap out, sucker; Time to submit to the new Magnificent 7, just like everyone else.”

This time, TBS answers.

“Screw you.”

He spits out the words barely, and Flesher stands back up and calls for the bell.

*DING DING DING*

“No, screw you.” mouths back Flesher, and the arena is in utter uproar at the call.

“The winners of the Handicap match… JUSTICE! AND! RUUUUUUUUUULE!”

“That was bullcrap!” shouts Grand Slam as Flesher tells the Tag Team champs to release their holds, “The Boston Strangler was just cheated!”

“He was in a God Damn double submission, Mark. He would have tapped sooner or later.”

“But he had the ropes, he didn’t tap out, and hell, a double submission isn’t even LEGAL in this type of handicap match!”

“Oh, you and your conspiracy theories…”

In the ring, Justice and Rule raise the gasping Strangler to his feet while Tom looks on angrily. Holding each of TBS’ arms, the Ejiro and Hearford restrain the giant man while Flesher winds up and gives him a slap across the face! Fans across the arena boos like no tomorrow as Tom begins yelling at Strangler.

“I just taught you a lesson, TBS.”

*Slap*

“Either you submit to the Magnificent 7…”

*Slap*

“Or you lose.”

Flesher pulls back a hand again, but enough is enough and Strangler tears his arms away from his two captors and putting a closed fist right into Flesher’s nose! Tom falls backwards to the mat, and Ejiro tries to stop the mammoth. He fires off a hard elbow to Strangler’s chest, but the man is just far too hyped up to be stopped. The giant man clotheslines Ejiro, putting him right to the mat in an instant. He looks around to see Hearford beginning to wrap the chain around his hand and TBS shares his anger with him. The Judge takes a punch to the face as well, making him let go of the chain and let it slide across the mat while Strangler batters him with another punch before grabbing him around the waist to the mat and slamming to the mat with a massive Spinebuster! Meanwhile, Tom looks over through the pain and sees the chain on the mat. He quickly scrambles over while the Judge hits the mat and kneels over it while

“ROID RAGE! HE’S ON A F***IN’ ROID RAGE!” screams Riley in terror as Ejiro gets up and gets a punch to the face before he can even do anything.

“BOBBIE!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP, MARK! THE GOD DAMN ROID MONKEY IS GOING T-” and that’s all he can spit out before Grand Slam pulls the hysterical Riley down to his seat and cover his mouth with his hand.

Strangler gives Ejiro two massive punches before putting his hands together and PLASTERING the smaller man with a Double Axehandle, sending him straight to the mat! The crowd loves it, and the enraged Strangler spots his original prey kneeling with his back towards him. He gives Flesher, just finishing up wrapping the chain around his hand, a hard open handed slap to the head that puts Flesher belly up. TBS goes down on top of him, flipping around and cocking a fist back…

WHAM!

And Flesher puts a chain-link fist right in his jaw! Strangler falls back holding his mouth, and Tom doesn’t even think about sticking around after that. He looks over at TBS for a moment before seeing Fasaki and Hearford regaining their senses and motions them with his hand to follow him as he slides out of the ring. The three quickstep it up the ramp, and Strangler begins to slowly rise in the ring to a throng of cheers from the crowd for the valiant fight he put up.

“Incredible! Even if he didn’t win the match, the Boston Strangler has shown he is a forced to be reckoned with! He nearly destroyed all three of the men in there!”

“But Tom’s brains triumphed over his brawn,” chimes in Riley, “And the Magnificent 7 still made him submit.”

“You can believe whatever you want, Bobbie, but TBS has shown that he is back and he can still hang with the best of them. And I believe we are all out of time. For Bobbie Riley, the crew, and everyone else in the SWF, this is ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens saying see you next time!”

*FADE OUT*

May 10, 2003

Well. A very interesting show tonight, with some more than very interesting implications for the future! Some rather surprising match results as well in my opinion... I would recommend your perusing indepth.

SWF Storm, biznitches!

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