Smarkdown.

[Guest Suicide King]

SWF Smarkdown!

5-19-2003

Live from the Sold-Out Philips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia!

 

 

Singles Match

Nathaniel Kibagami v. Judge William Hearford

Kibigami asked for this, and now he's got it. Let's see if he still has what it takes against one of the most dangerous men in the Fed. This could be the start of a miracle someback, or the end of the line.

 

 

Tag Team Match

Dace Night & "Deathwish" Danny Williams v. Wild & Dangerous

If W&D want a shot at the Tag Titles, King is going to make them work for it. This week, they get a taste of Dace and Danny teaming for the first time. And let me tell you, that is a scary combo. If W&D pull this out their rematch could become more reality than fiction.

 

 

U. S. Title Match

Micheal Craven © v. Sean Atlas

Atlas finally gets his shot at SWF gold tonight, taking on the U.S. Champion and multi-time Hardcore Champion Micheal Craven. This should be a spectacular battle, and both men will leave everything in the ring.

 

 

Singles Match (The Fall of the Turner Empire)

"TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson v. The Boston Strangler

TBS is looking to parlay his impressive win over Neilsen into a shot at some SWF gold. TNT is no stranger to gold himself, and wants to remain firmy entrenched in the upper echelon of the SWF. I think the question is: Who wants it more?

 

 

ICTV Number One Contenders Triple Threat Match

Mike Van Siclen v. Beezel v. Ejiro Fasaki

So, Mike and Beezel have formed a stable with Johnny and Wildchild. Isn't that just precious? Well, nothing like the quest of gold to cause friction in a new team! Add in a superbly capable Ejiro Fasaki and you have all the ingredients to nip this "Catch-22" nonsense in the bud, at least accoring to our estimable Commissioner.

 

 

Non-Title Singles Match

Jay Dawg v. "Superior One" Tom Flesher

JD has shown in the past few months that he is at the top of his game, making a real legacy for himself in the industry by putting on great match after great match. Tonight, he sets his sights on the World Champion and tries to cement his place at the "Big Boy's Table." Flesher, meanwhile, would like nothing more than to put the uppity JD in his place...

 

 

Main Event

First Blood Match

Neilsen of the Jungle v. Longdogger Pete

King appears to be getting the better of Neilsen, and it looks like the wear and tear of this gauntlet of brutality is starting to catch up with the Jungle King. Wouldn;t it be nice to get a break. Well, you know that's not happening with King in charge. Tonight, he calls on the former Hardcore Champion LDP to make Neilsen bleed. One way or the other, this should be wicked.

[Guest Suicide King]

The Phillips Arena in Atlanta fades into view as we come back from a commercial break to SWF Smarkdown for the first match of the night. The crowd gives a small, anticipatory cheer for the match ahead as we go down to ringside with Grand Slam and Bobbie Riley.

 

“Wow, what a card we have tonight!” he says in full-out shill mode, “Coming up we have a great match-up between the returning Nathan Kibagami and the always wily veteran ‘Judge Mental’! But that’s only the beginning!”

 

“Yep, we have some crap with Wild and Child and whatever and the technical freaks, and something between two losers who got kicked out of the Mag 7 and something else. But after that it’s Tom Flesher with JD, so just hang in there!”

 

“And that’s not even the Main Event, Bobbie!”

 

“I know! What the hell?! Those two are way better than Donglogger Pete and Nutsen of the Rainforest.”

 

“Whatever, Bobbie,” says Mark as he rolls his eyes back into his head before looking back at the camera, “But right now we have what’s sure to be a great match against the man who terrorized the SWF and a man on a big hot streak at the moment.”

 

“Kibawussy is an idiot for coming back,” is Riley’s blunt response, “The guy is walking wounded. I don’t understand how he thinks he can compete with a guy who is in far better health.”

 

“Bobbie, this is the man formerly known as Silent. This is the man that nearly killed Z and beat Jay Dawg when JD on the best streak of his life. This man is someone who Edwin MacPhisto actually feared…”

 

“And that means absolutely JACK now,” interrupts the ambiguously gay color announcer, “The guy has been injured to all hell and he definitely ain’t the badass he once was. I mean, he’s getting cheered. CHEERED!”

 

“Well, in the last meeting I remember Hearford getting beat with a Roll-up-“

 

“He had the tights! HE WAS HOLDING HIS FRIGGIN TIGHTS!”

 

“I don’t remember that mattering in your book…” says Grand Slam with a grin as Funyon turns on his ring mic and speaks up with his always booming voice.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“The FOLLOWING MATCH is scheduled for ONE FALL!” he thunders over the ring bell as the arena begins a deep red.

 

A steady drumbeat begins to emanate faintly from the speakers as a few boos come out from some of the more familiar fans realize who is coming out. The sound gets louder and louder, and just as it completes its crescendo…

 

NOW TESTIFY

 

A set of red pyros goes off on either side of the stage while the Smarktron begins showing off some of the more illustrious points of ‘Judge Mental’s’ SJL and SWF career as the man himself steps onto the stage in his recognizable “Justice” jersey.

 

“Now entering the ring, weighing in at 242 pounds and hailing from Royal Oak, Michigan… He is one half of the champion Tag Team Justice and Rule… he is “THE JUDGE”, WILLIAM HEAAAAAAAARFOOOOOORD!!”

 

He walks down the ramp with the Tag Team Title belts around his waist, drawing a nice amount of ire out of the fans. He places his precious title on the steel steps next to his corner before sliding in as he has done so many times before and begins stretching out in his corner.

 

 

“Hearford looks ready to go,” notes Grand Slam, “But the real question is whether or not Kibagami is ready to go. He may be able to demolish someone like Janus with his cane, but can he still go in the ring like he used to?”

 

“Doubtful,” is the predictable response from Grand Slam’s partner, “This guy has had his neck and shoulders pulverized in his last few runs. For a guy like Hearford, Silence is a golden opportunity to get a nice tap out.”

 

As if on cue, 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.

 

“Now entering the ring, weighing in at 268 pounds and hailing from Phoenix, Arizona… he was once known as Silent… NATHAN KIBAGAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!”

 

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. He hops off the turnbuckle, cracks his neck for dramatic effect, and turns towards the opposite corner to face the Judge. With the two men in the ring, Hall looks at each of them, getting a nod of readiness from both before he points towards the timekeeper’s table for the bell.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

A small pop for the opening bell of the evening and the two slowly advance out of their corners as they size each other up. They circle for a moment, trying to find a weak point in the other man’s style, Kibagami slowly pacing calmly and coolly around like a Tiger on the hunt while Hearford hunches over a little and bobs like a Jackal looking for an opening to exploit. Seeing nothing with each other, they meet up with a lockup in the center, and Hearford uses his slight speed advantage to duck under the big man and cinch a waistlock. But the man still has his instincts, and instantly shoots a few elbows back into the Judge’s head. The old man holds on, but the momentary hesitation allows Kibs to shift to the side and put Hearford in a side headlock. He wrenches the hold hard enough to get the waistlock off him, and he quickly shifts the hold into a front face lock, delivering a knee to the old man’s head to bring him down to the mat.

 

“Well, not much ring rust that I can see,” says Mark with a knowing smile, “Then again, I can’t say I expected any. If you looked at his file recently you’d know that he’s been training with Thoth while away.”

 

“Blow me, Stevens.”

 

“Only in your dreams or my nightmares, Bobbie.”

 

“Oh, real original there…”

 

On the mat ‘Silent’ tries to maneuver into position for an STF. He scissors on of Hearford’s legs and goes for the chinlock, but the old man doesn’t let Nathan get his hands around his chin, struggling hard. Kibs tries but Hearford keeps resisting, and in a stunning maneuver the old man pushes off the canvas and flips the two over! He tries to scissor one of Nathan’s legs while putting on a bridging chinlock to reverse the normal STF into a Muta Sickle… but Hearford just can’t seem to get it right, and Kibs busts out of the attempt. The old man rolls to the side and onto a knee while the man formerly known as the ‘Slaughterer’ takes a knee as well. Both men rise, and a modest applause comes from the crowd at the nice display of technical know-how from the two men.

 

“While Kibagami may be able to pull that sort of move with Thoth and pull it off he doesn’t have a chance here,” confidently remarks Bobbie, “Can counter just about anything with his vast submission knowledge. Don’t even try to go to the mat with this guy.”

 

“I don’t think so, Bobbie,” corrects Mark, “If anyone could, it would be Nathan. Hearford may know the indies, but he probably doesn’t know much of the BattleARTS style that Kibagami likes to use. I think they are about equal on the canvas.” Riley just gives him a sour look.

 

“Screw you for looking stuff up ahead of time!” is all he can muster in response.

 

The two close in on each other and Kibagami immediately lashes out with a powerful kick that Hearford backs away from. He comes closer to the old man and lashes out with a roundhouse kick that the Judge ducks… only to be hit with the heel of the other foot following behind it! The crowd gives a cheer at the martial arts kickery and Kibagami quickly grabs the reeling Judge and tosses him at the ropes. Hearford comes back with at a run, and Kibagami uses the momentum to almost effortlessly toss the 242 pound man over his head with a Railgun Suplex.

 

“Look at that strength,” says Mark as Silent kips up to his feet as the Judge holds his back and rises a little slower than before, “He’s really put on a lot of muscle. He certainly couldn’t do THAT before.”

 

Hearford tries to take a break, but like a bulldog Kibagami keeps right on him, catching him in a lock up. He pushes him back a little, but the Judge plants his feet down and the two reach a stalemate near the side of the ring. Of course, Kibs tries to take control with his knees… but this time Justice expects it, dropping his arms and catching the knee right as his waist. He spins and takes ‘Silent’ down with a Dragon Screw. With the man on the ground, the Judge is the first to move, floating over behind Kibagami and putting him in a sleeper hold. The crowd boos at the old man, and the flexible Nathan brings his foot up to hit Hearford in the face. The Judge barely dodges it and decides to take this method of resistance out, turning to the side and flipping him over for a Camel Clutch! Kibagami grunts in pain as his weak neck is torqued backwards.

 

“Now there’s technical skill,” points out Riley, “Going right for the overrated wuss’ weak spot.”

 

“While it may be painful for Nathan, this man certainly knows how to deal with pain. I’m sure he’ll push through this without much of a problem.”

 

Indeed, the ‘Slaughterer’ begins to put his new muscle to use, and Hearford’s grip begins to wane as the crowd begins to swell. With a mighty effort the Judge’s hands fly right off of Kibagami’s chin, and the BattleARTS veteran wastes no time in showing off his unique submission skills, tucking his body inward and bringing his legs up under the old man. The Judge is pushed onto his belly as ‘Silent’ rolls onto his back with his powerful legs ending up wrapped around one of the Judge’s for a Reverse Cross Kneebreaker! The crowd pops big at the amazing reversal and Hearford tries to scramble for the ropes, only barely making to break the hold.

 

“It looks like anything the Judge can do Nathan can do better,” chuckles Grand Slam as Hearford stands and shakes off his leg while Kibagami rolls up to his feet.

 

The Judge shoots off a serious stare at Kibagami, which only gets him a small smirk which rapidly disappears from Kibagami’s face. He cracks his neck while the Judge goes back into his grappler stance, and the Judge tries a quick rush in… only to be met with a quick kick to the shoulder. He staggers to the side and Nathan takes a step forwards, nailing Justice with a quick shotei combo that sends him back into the ropes. He tosses him again and this time he waits a moment before Nathan starts running himself, and just as the Judge gets within striking distance he raises his foot for a massive Yakuza kick! The crowd gives out a big pop as Hearford hits the mat hard and Silent methodically goes down for a pin!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

”TWO!”

 

 

“THR-”And Hearford gets a shoulder up!

 

“It looks Nathan wanted to show Justice what the real Justice and Rule is like!” says Mark, and Riley is quick to take offense.

 

“Hey, Mashiro Chono is badass. NEVER EVER compare him to this full-blown wimp!”

 

“Yes, and how brave of you to say that… at a distance.”

 

“Of course from a distance. I’m an announcer, not a hero, Mark.”

 

While the two argue at the announcer’s table in the ring, Kibagami pulls a slightly stunned Justice up to his feet, delivering a one-two open palm combo to the old man’s chest. The Judge staggers back a little, and Kibagami pulls him right back into his chest, wrapping his arm around Hearford’s arm and head for an Exploder Suplex… but is denied as Justice instinctually throws a knee into ‘Silent’s gut. ‘Judge Mental’ quickly shifts his arm, hooking it under Kibagami’s shoulder and right into his face before kicking out his legs!

 

WHAM!

 

“I have to say I’m just amazed at the ability of these two to pick up what the other is doing and make on the spot reversals like they can,” notes Stevens as Kibagami is put to the ground right on his head, neck, and shoulders, “It’s a real tribute to how talented these men.”

 

“Or just how easily amused you are.”

 

Hitting the canvas, the Judge doesn’t take a moment of rest as he instantly wraps his hands around Nathan’s neck and tries strangling the life out of him! He violent slams Kibagami’s head back into the mat as Hall makes a count to break it up.

 

ONE

TWO

THREE

FO- And Hearford lets go… only to start choking him again. The crowd boos at the cowardly action and Hall quickly restarts the count.

 

ONE

TWO

THREE

FO- The Judge lets go a second time, but this time Hall pulls him away from the breathless ‘Silent’, yelling at him to stop the crap. Throwing the smaller man’s arm off Hearford gets right in Hall’s face.

 

“I broke the damn holds before the counts!” he rants, “What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

 

“Stop the crap,” retorts Hall, not intimidated (Too much) by the yelling of the first, “I want a CLEAN match, alright?”

 

“That WAS clean!” says Hearford, still arguing, “Learn h-”

 

CRACK~!

 

But he’s cut off by a massive superkick to the back of the head! The Judge falls like a giant redwood as the crowd reigns cheers on the recovering ‘Silent’. He holds his neck for a moment, breathing heavy before he goes to pick up the nearly knocked-out old man. He pulls his almost limp body up and pummels him with a few shotei before whipping him hard into the nearest corner. The old man slams into the turnbuckle, bouncing and stumbling out, which sparks Kibagami to run at the nearest ropes…

 

“This is it! I think we are going to see Flesh into Gear!” says Mark as Nathan jumps up onto the second rope, “The springboard gamengiri Kibagami has perfected!”

 

He bounces on it once before springing off, his foot lined up right with the temple of Justice…

 

 

… that goes right over it as the Judge collapses before the move can connect! Kibagami hits the mat rolling on his side, and he looks over at the beaten up Hearford, giving a quiet curse at the old man’s luck. The crowd lets out a few disappointed groans. He stands up, and the Judge begins to lift himself off the ground slowly, allowing ‘Silent’ the chance to walk right up to him. Of course, this also allows the Judge an opening as he goes up and hits Nathan right below the belt with a low blow! The crowd boos but Hearford disguises the blow from the ref, using the felonious hand to scoop through for a quick Fireman’s Carry. Looking over to see Hall oblivious to the crime committed the Judge breaks into a smile before putting on a rear Chinlock.

 

“What a blatant low blow!” cries Stevens as Hearford tries to pull off Kibagami’s head, “I was wondering when he’d bust out the cheating. Lord knows he can’t beat anyone without an underhanded trick.”

 

“Bah. He’s just having fun in there.”

 

“He’s cheating!”

 

“And it’s fun! Jesus, it doesn’t take a genius to make the connection.”

 

The Judge pulls hard on the resthold, breaking into a smile and yelling a few taunts at the crowd while Nathan struggles to break the grip on his chin. Even though he’s still weakened from the low blow dished out by the old man, Nathan isn’t weak enough to be too troubled by a reverse chinlock. To the sound of a few “LET’S GO NATHAN!*CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*” hockey chants, the ‘Silent One’ begins to rise up to his feet. Hearford tries to fight him down, but there isn’t much he can do as Kibagami gets up to his feet and breaks free of hold! He spins around… and right into a kick in the gut by the Judge, who locks on a ¾ Headlock…

 

“It looks like the Judge is going to call a Surprise Witness!” cackles Riley as the Judge prepares to leap forward, only to have Kibagami wrap his arms around the old man’s waist!

 

“I don’t think the court is going to hear that testimony, Bobbie,” chimes in Stevens as ‘Silent’ pulls his head out of the headlock and lifts Hearford up right for a High Angle German Suplex! He bridges it out, and Hall dives in to make the count with the crowd counting along!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

“THREE-”-NO! The Judge barely kicks out in time, and the crowd sighs as Kibagami rolls over onto his belly while Justice is left holding the back of his head.

 

“Another near fall! Kibagami scouted the Surprise Witness and nearly finished the match there!”

 

Nathan gets back up to his feet and pulls up Hearford, only to be met with a poke to the eyes! The crowd makes their displeasure heard, but the Judge isn’t listening to objections as he whips Kibagami at the ropes. He lines up towards the returning Nathan and in one swift motion he brings his foot up towards the head of the former Clan member…

 

 

 

… and misses!

 

“Does that thing EVER hit?” asks Mark, and Riley can only grumble something about “Damn guys always ducking…” in response.

 

Hearford tries to turn around quickly, but Nathan has stopped himself right behind the old man and gives him a kick to the gut of his own. Doubling over, Hearford is pulled into a standing head scissors, and the crowd pops big in anticipation!

 

“This is it! It looks like the Judge is going to find Rough Redemption at the hands of Nathan Kibagami!”

 

Nathan quickly lifts him and flips him up onto his shoulders, where he slides him back into Crucifix position… but the Judge pulls one of his arms away! He goes tumbling down Kibagami’s back on his side, and before Nathan can react Justice threads an arm through his legs and pulls him down with a School Boy! The crowds is stunned as Hall goes down and the Judge takes a handful of tights for good measure.

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

”TWO!”

 

 

 

 

”THREE!”

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“The winner of the match via pinfall… WILLIAM HEAAAAAARFOOOOOORD!”

 

“He won with a handful of tights!” cries Grand Slam, but Bobbie is quick to correct him.

 

“So did Kibagami last time. Ah, sweet irony,” he laughs

 

Hearford lets go of the roll up and rushes out of the ring, grabbing his title as he runs past the steels steps and up the ramp to massive boos. Meanwhile, Silent quickly flips around and watches the Judge with a look that could kill as he exits swiftly up the ramp. As he reaches the top of the ramp, the breathless old man turns around to look at Kibagami, and he can’t help but chuckle a little as he backs off stage with a smirk.

 

What goes around, comes around, eh?

[Guest Suicide King]

The scene fades in to focus on the blank rear of a high back, black leather chair. As the camera pulls back, one can see that the chair is behind a desk and a mop of blonde hair is just peaking out over the top of the chair. A crooked elbow can be spied off to the side and it is easy to determine that the man in the chair is holding a cell phone to his ear. Who that man is comes quickly to light when his voice is heard in mid-conversation.

 

“‘I didn’t feel like wrestling’ is not an excuse,” barks the Suicide King with a decided edge. “You are a wrestler under contract to the SWF and that means you answer to me. If I want you to wrestle the Memphis Eel in a vat of oatmeal you smile and better god damn do it!”

 

King spins around in the chair and slams his fist onto the desk for emphasis. His eyes reveal that he hasn’t had much sleep recently, but the anger boiling in them overshadows that notion by far. “I’m scheduling you to wrestle on the next show. You better be in that arena and warming up by the time I hang up the phone with you tonight! You don’t show and…no, no, no…you don’t show and LOOK like you’re putting in the effort, you’re fired!”

 

King pauses for a second, listening to the voice on the other end. His face contorts to a mask of blind rage and disgust. “Fire you then! You want me to fire you, snowman! No, it’s not that easy. You’re a cash cow, plain and simple. Cigars, tacos, T-shirts flying off the shelves, hell, we’re working a deal with Lionel to start making ‘Job Trains.’ If I’m going to fire you, I’m going to kill your drawing power first.”

 

King listens to the voice on the other end for a second and nods his head as he contemplates what’s being said. “Whatever, then. Yeah, whatever, Frost. I’m sending a babysitter to come get your ass and make sure you show up for Storm. You kill your career or get the eye of the tiger back, it matters little to me, but you’re going to go one way or the other. So, stop whining like a little bitch or I’ll start billing you as Neilsen, Jr.”

 

King smashes the top button on his phone to disconnect the call. He slams the phone down and hangs his head, just one more problem he has to deal with.

[Guest Suicide King]

Note: The winning match has been edited in. Forgive me; Pete and I spent hours trying to get the PMs to work but at some point I just had to go to bed. Give it a read, though; it's a great match. -Edwin

 

Stevens: Now on SWF Smarkdown, we've got Wild and Dangerous, who are looking to gain another shot against Justice and Rule for the Tag Team Title, but the Commissioner is really making them work for this one by putting them up against the Team of Danny Williams and Dace Night.

 

Riley: I'm not red hot on any of these guys, but hey, they gotta go out there and beat each other up, which is all good. Either way it's a another trail for Wild and Dangerous to go through, and they should have to. If you want a Title Shot, you've got to earn it.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following Tag Team Match will be for One Fall!

 

The sold out Philips Arena bursts into a round of cheers at the call.

 

Funyon: First, at a combined weight of four hundred and twenty seven pounds ... THE WILDCHILD AND JOHNNY DANGEROUS .. WILD AND DANGEROUS!

 

The instrumental beats of In Da Club starts to beat out across the arena. A shower of pyro sparks up across the ramp. The SmarkTron flashes with the words "Wild & Dangerous" as the pair make their way out into the arena under a hail of cheers.

 

Wildchild sprints down the ramp into the ring as Johnny takes his time strolling down, greeting all his female fans along the way. Finally getting into the ring, the pair climb the turnbuckles and pose off to their fans across the arena.

 

Funyon: Their opponents, with a combined weight of four hundred and ninety seven pounds .. two thirds of the Unholy Trinity ... DANNY WILLIAMS AND DACE 'HORRORCORE' NIGHT!

 

Smoke pours of out the red mesh lit entranceway, as the PA roars into life.

 

"LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST!"

 

Davidian booms out with a blast of Pyro fires off . Red strobe lights light the entrance ramp. Dace and Danny step through the laser mesh out of the smoke and stride purposefully up the ramp into the ring. Danny and Dace rise their arms to a mixed roar from the crowd.

 

Stevens: You know, apparently Dace used to be in a team with Johnny and Wildchild back in the SJL.

 

Riley: Yes, the SJL so it doesn't matter one little bit. Like I said before, either way someone gets crushed and it's all good for me.

 

Stevens: Well that's for you Bobby. I think the fans are going to be winning out of this one. But by the sounds of it, they're firmly behind Wild and Dangerous.

 

The cheers and calls for Wild and Dangerous can be heard all round the arena. Dace points across the ring to the pair with a short nod and waves the crowd on, expecting the fans’ reactions. Danny just shrugs and flexes briefly on the ring ropes.

 

Stevens: Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous are the tested tag team, Dace and Danny are two very big hitters and very tough. It's an equal trade off of pros and cons meaning this one is going to be right down the middle.

 

DING, DING, DING!

 

Williams and Wildchild start the match off, as Dace and Johnny duck out to their corners. Wildchild darts in with his speed, avoiding locking up with the stronger Danny and snaps him over with a quick Arm Drag. Springing back to his feet, the Tropical Tumbler catches Danny as he rolls back to his feet and throws him back over again with another Arm Drag.

 

WILD! CHILD! WILD! CHILD!

 

Stevens: The Bahama Bomber using his inhuman speed to take the advantage early on in this match, but is it going to stay that way if the power of Danny comes into play?

 

The Tropical Tumbler bounds off across the ropes, flying at the rising Danny Williams, driving his forearm into Danny's head! As Danny staggers backwards, Wildchild catches him and whips him across the ring into the ropes. As Williams comes hurtling back, the Bahama Bomber runs in to meet him, diving onto his chest. Hooking his arms around Danny's head, Wildchild throws him backwards with the.....

 

Stevens: FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE FALLLLLLLLLLL!

 

Bridging back, he makes the cover as Soapdish slides in to count the falls.

 

ONE!

 

Kickout!

 

Dace is leaning through the ropes, but ducks back as Danny easily kicks out. The Bahama native backs off, dropping to his hunches as Williams rolls back onto his feet. Launching himself forwards, foot first with a Side Kick, Wildchild aims for Deathwish's head! The only thing it catches is thin air as Danny grabs the leg at the ankle, stopping the kick dead!

 

Swinging around, Danny tries to level Wildchild with a Rolling Elbow, but the Tropical Tumbler ducks and slaps on a Rear Waistlock. Danny isn't to be outdone, snapping round with a Standing Switch, then throws Wildchild off balance and levels him with an Enzui-Lariat!

SMACK!

 

Wildchild hits the mat with a thud as the crowd bursts into a shower of boos.

 

Stevens: Well, there's conformation that the crowd is giving no love to Danny and Dace in this one, as Danny takes control with his power.

 

Riley: Now, if only the crowd was booing both of these teams of fools, all would be right with the world.

 

As the Bahama Bomber tries to get back to his feet, Danny lays in with stiff Punt Kicks to his body.

 

“OOOOHHHHH!”

 

Pulling Wildchild up to his feet by his hair, Deathwish unleashed a familiar Elbow Smash to the back of the head!

 

CRACK!

 

Locking his arms around the dazed Wildchild, Williams quickly throws him backwards with a German Suplex, holding the bridge for the cover!

 

Stevens: GERMAAAAAAAAAAN SUPLEX!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

NO! Johnny slaps Wildchild's leg for the blind tag, then at the same time pulls him back out of the bridge breaking the cover. Leaping to the top rope, the Secret Agent dives off the top at the rising Danny....

 

CRAAAAAAAACK!

 

Tackling him across the ring with a....

 

Stevens: FLYING SIDE KICK!

 

Back on his feet first, Johnny pulls Danny up by his arm, leaps horizontally at him, driving his foot into Williams’ chest with an athletic Spinning Heel Kick!

 

SMACK!

 

Holding onto Danny, Dangerous drags him back in, but a twist off his own from Williams slams a Rolling Back Elbow into the side of Johnny's head with a crack.

 

Stevens: Spinning Heel Kick, but Williams fires right back with a Rolling Back Elbow, can he shift the momentum back in his favour?

 

Riley: He already has, dumbass!

 

Using the Secret Agent's grip on his arm, William sends him flying towards the turnbuckles in his corner. Following him in, Danny slaps hands with Dace as he leans over the ropes, making the tag. Dace quickly steps through the ropes behind Danny.

 

Johnny tips up in the corner, rather than going in chest first, throwing his legs backwards around Williams' head, Dangerous swings round for a Headscissors, but Dace cuts him off.

 

CRACK!

 

“OOOOHHHHHH!”

 

Stevens: Dangerous attempts a Headscissors on Danny out of the corner, but Dace is waiting on his with an Elbow Smash.

 

Riley: Nasty, I like it a bit. Maybe there's a nice little dark side to these two. Hang on, nope, not happening.

 

With Johnny down on the mat, Danny and Dace stomp away on him before Soapdish forced Danny out into his corner.

 

“BBBOOOOOOO!”

 

Night pulls Johnny to his feet, whips him across the ring into the free corner. Following him in, he snaps Johnny's head back with a decapitating Lariat! Hammering a knee into his gut, Dace doubles Dangerous over, locks his arm around his head and spikes him to the mat with a DDT.

 

Rolling over, Night makes a quick cover, hooking the far legs to stop Johnny getting to the ropes.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout!

 

Hauling Dangerous throat first over the second rope, Dace grabs the top and the back of his shirt then starts driving knees into his chest and mid section. Soapdish springs in with the rope count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

...... Dace lets go at the last moment, after having driven his knee into Johnny several move times.

 

Dragging the Secret Agent along with him, Night tags out to Danny, as Wildchild can only stare across the ring and wait. Dace clamps on a Front Facelock and turns over, holding Johnny upside down. Danny Williams stands to the side and drops to one knee. Dace dives down, snapping Dangerous' neck into his shoulder and his back into Danny's knee!

 

“BBBBOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Stevens: Williams and Night now isolating Johnny Dangerous in the corner and working him over. With everyone in clear view of Soapdish, Wildchild just has to wait in his corner until he gets a chance some how.

 

Riley: Good old fashioned beat down, works for me.

 

Even as Dace steps through the ropes, he grabs the tag rope, leaning over and Williams tags him straight back in. Horrorcore pulls the Super Spy into a Standing Headscissors, hoisting up for a Powerbomb, rather than slamming him down through, he lets Dangerous sag forwards, hanging upside down. Williams stands behind Dace, and reaching forwards grabs hold of Johnny's arms pulls them backwards towards him, as he steps one leg in between Dace's, forcing it into the back of Johnny's head.

 

Riley: Ouch, that's got to hurt. All that blood rushing to your head, and then having it pulled like that. Not good, saying that, I should note that position down for Saturday nights.

 

Stevens: Let's stay off that topic Riley. Dangerous has got to get back to his feet and make a fast move or he's going to be warn down completely by the power of Night and Williams.

 

Soapdish starts yelling at Danny to get out of the ring, so he slowly lets go of Dangerous and steps out into his corner. Dace holds Johnny as he tucks his head in and drops back with a Piledriver!

 

CRUNCH!

 

Rolling over, Dace covers Johnny.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

Wildchild races across the ring.

 

 

 

TWO1/2!

 

 

 

 

NO! Slamming his fists into Dace's back, Wildchild breaks up the cover. Dace sprints back to his feet, and grabs Wildchild by the shoulders, spinning him around. Face to face with his former partner, Dace drives an Elbow Smash into his jaw, sending him sprawling to the mat.

 

CRACK!

 

Crawling up to his feet, Johnny waits as Night turns back across the ring, and swings a wild fist at him. It thuds into a forearm as Dace blocks it. He swings again, but again it's blocked. A third swing, this time Johnny lashes out and boots Dace in the gut, catching him off guard.

LET'S GET DANGEROUS! LET'S GET DANGEROUS!

 

Stevens: Dangerous managing to sneak through Horrorcore's guard. Can this be the turning point he needs right now.

 

Wrapping one arm around Night's head like a Rock Bottom, Johnny turns to his side, with a Uranage. Even as Dace finds his feet leaving the mat, he hammers an elbow into the side of the Secret Agents head to escape the Suplex.

 

CRACK!

 

Throwing out a wild Haymaker of a Roundhouse Kick, Dangerous tries to force Dace back onto his guard, but the Goth steps back then launches himself forwards, driving Dangerous to the mat with a Double Leg Takedown.

 

“BBBOOOOOOO!”

 

The crowd lets fly with more boos as Dace gains an even bigger advantage in the match.

 

Hooking the Super Spy's legs, the Brummie Goth rolls him over onto his front with a Boston Crab, leaning back, stretching out the smaller man's spine. Sitting as far back as he can, Dace leans back on his leg, pulling with all his strength on Johnny's legs, causing his hold body to arch. The fans rise out of their cheers, whispering amongst themselves as if to confirm that they are indeed seeing a man getting bent completely in half! Sensing that he needs their help, the crowd begins to chant...

 

“LET’S GO JOHNNY! LET’S GO!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CALP!

 

Stevens: Dace, looking to further wear Johnny down with that disgusting looking Boston Crab.

 

Riley: I’d call it sexy.

 

Stevens: What?

 

The fans stamp their feet as Wildchild desperately pounds on the turnbuckles, yelling encouragement to his partner. Dace responds by pulling back harder, nearly succeeding his goal of breaking Dangerous in half! No able to stomach his partner’s torture anymore, Wildchild bursts into the ring, and begins elbowing Dace! Dace absorbs the blows, stubbornly hanging on to Dangerous! Finally, Soapdish steps in, forcing Wildchild back to his corner! With the official’s back turned, Williams sneaks into the ring, and starts dropping knees on to the back of Johnny’s cranium!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

By the time, Soapdish turns around, an innocent faced Danny Williams has already got back in his corner. Dace releases the legs of his broken victim, pulls him up by his tights, and clamps his arms around Dangerous in Rear Waistlock! Dace bends his tree trunk like legs, and tosses Dangerous high, way high, over his head...

 

Stevens: GERMAN SUPLEX!

 

But it’s an overthrow, resulting in Dangerous landing on his knees rather than his head! Sore, Dangerous is slow to get up, allowing Dace to rush around him, and tie up in a Sleeper!

 

Stevens: Dangerous was too weak from the Boston Crab to capitalize on Dace’s mistake, and now he’s trapped, trapped in a Sleeperhold!

 

Riley: It's how you stop a comeback Mark. Cut it off at it's head. Take the life right out of it like a Sleeperhold does.

 

Locking his arms night, Dace leans forward, pushing all his weight down onto the Barracuda as he tries to find a way out of the Sleeper. Johnny tries to reach for the ropes, but they’re too far away.

 

Stevens: Johnny Dangerous is on his knees in that Sleeper Hold.

 

Riley: The fans should be going to sleep as well, but damn it, they're not listening to my good advice.

 

Dace starts twisting Dangerous’ head from side to side, really working the Sleeperhold! The incredibly vocal crowd begins to enthusiastically chant...

 

“DAN-GER-US! DAN-GER-US! DAN-GER-US!”

 

As if he’s feeding off the energy of the crowd, the drowsy super agent summons enough power to scoot his way to the ropes to the delight of the fans! Dace promptly releases Dangerous, and faces little resistance in dragging the sleepy eyed face to the centre of the ring, where he positions him in a standing head scissors!

 

Stevens: DACE, GOING FOR A POWERBOMB!

 

Rules be damned, Wildchild darts into the ring, rushing to the aid of his ailing partner!

 

CRACK!

 

Well he would have if Dace didn’t see him coming, catching Wildchild with a nasty Elbow Smash as he blindly rushes in!

 

Riley: With a partner as incompetent as that, Dangerous might as well be wrestling a handicap match.

 

Holding his face, Wildchild rolls out of the ring, and with him out of the way, Williams barks some inaudible orders at Dace! Dace responds with a nod, and than repositions Dangerous in the standing head scissor position, while Williams scales the turnbuckles of his corner!

 

Riley: The Unholy Duo look like there up to something, I see a cool double team move on the horizon!

 

With no effort whatsoever, Dace lifts Dangerous up on his shoulders.....

 

Stevens: HERE’S THE POWERBOMB!

 

but the secret agent man shifts his body weight back, taking Dace over with a shocking....

 

Stevens: HURRICANERANAAAAA!

 

Still weak from the sleeper, Dangerous groggily stands up, finding Williams diving down at him anyway...

 

Stevens: DIVING ELBOW!

 

Dangerous hits the deck, and Williams slams his forearm right into the face of his partner, who was also just getting up!

 

CRACK!

 

Dace goes down at the hands of his own partner while the crowd goes wild like college girls on spring break!

 

Riley: Damn, I was looking forward to seeing that Powerbomb thingy!

 

Williams rolls to his feet, and rushes Dangerous as he wobbles to his feet.....

 

CRAAAAAAAAACK!

 

Running right into a Superkick!

 

Stevens: JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHNNY KICK!

 

Williams awkwardly walks backwards, suddenly flopping on his ass, and rolling out of the ring!

 

Riley: Oh man, Danny looks hurt!

 

With the crowd now giving a constant pop, Dangerous begins slowly crawling across the ring towards his corner. Now recovered, Wildchild anxiously awaits the arrival of his partner, stretching out his hand as far legally possible! The crowd lets louder and louder as Dangerous inches closer and closer towards the hand of his partner, when all of sudden, Dace grabs a hold of his ankle! Dace climbs back to his feet, and begins pulling on Dangerous’ captured limb, trying to drag him back to the center of the ring! Not to be denied this time, Dangerous pushes his way back to his feet, bounces off his free leg, and twists it around for a....

 

CRACK!

 

Sick Enzugiri! Dace crumbles to the mat back, while Dangerous lunges forward...

 

SMACK!

 

Slapping hands with Wildchild!

 

Stevens: AND HERE’S THE TAG!

 

The crowd explodes as the fired up Wildchild spring boards up on to the top rope, waits for Dace to arise, and than somersaults off at him....

 

SMAAAACK!

 

Driving his boots into Dace’s chest with a front drop kick!

 

Stevens: SHOOTING STAR DROPKICK!

 

Riley: I can do that, but I don’t wanna.

 

Wildchild hastily hooks Dace’s legs for the pin, and the excited fans scream along with Soapdish’s count!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“OOOOOOOOOOH!”, groans the fans as Dace kicks out!

 

Williams is back on the apron, watching on in worry. Not discouraged, Wildchild rushes to his feet, drags Dace up, and lets out a scream of effort as he scoop slams the big man near a corner! Wildchild sprints to said corner in a blur, running all way up to the top turnbuckle, prompting the fans to get off their asses and make some noise! Camera flashes go off like machine gun fire, capturing the surreal image of Wildchild performing a 450 degree backflip off the top rope....

 

Stevens: FAAAAAAAAALLING STAR PRESS!

 

Riley: Now that, I can’t do.

 

But Dace gets his knees up, impaling Wildchild and silencing the crowd! While Wildchild rolls around on the mat, gagging and coughing, Dace rolls to his corner and tags in Danny! The swelled up roid freak enters the ring, and stretches his massive arms out to his sides, stalking Wildchild from behind! Once the little guy is up, Williams clamps his strong arms around Wildchild’s head in a Sleeperhold!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Williams begins jerking Wildchild from side to side, slinging his body around like a rag doll, cutting off the blood flow to his brain!

 

Stevens: Williams, looking to zap that fiery energy out of the Wildchild, taking away that alarming speed advantage!

 

Riley: That’s probably the best thing that could to happen to Wildchild, if he’s slowed down, he might actually have time to think before he runs or jumps himself into trouble.

 

Wildchild starts to grow limp in Danny’s arms, when all out of nowhere, Dangerous comes flying into the ring, catching the unsuspecting ICTV Champion in the side of the head with a Missile Dropkick! Of course this frees Wildchild, who drops to the floor in a daze. Meanwhile, Dangerous rushes across the ring, blasting Dace off the ring apron with a Dropkick! Without a second to lose, Dangerous slaps his hands in front of Wildchild’s face like a mother trying to wake her kid up for school! Moving sluggishly Wildchild rolls out on to the ring apron, and begins climbing the turnbuckles, while Dangerous helps Williams to his feet, and hoists him in the air on his shoulders! Knowing what this means, the crowd goes insane!

 

Stevens: THEIR GOING FOR THE DANGEROUS DROP, AND DACE IS STILL OUT ON THE FLOOR!

 

Riley: Some stablemate, why Williams left M7 to team with that loser is a mystery to me.

 

Wildchild is moving in slow mode, giving Williams enough time to slip out of Dangerous’ clutches and land behind him!

 

SMAAAACK!

 

Williams shatters Dangerous’ vertebra with a stiff...

 

Stevens: ENZUI LARIAT!

 

Williams spins around to find Wildchild diving down at him! Wildchild catches Williams in a Front Facelock, turns him around, and....

 

CRUNCH!

 

Plants his head into the mat!

 

Stevens: TORNADO DDT!

 

Holding his head, Dangerous rolls back out on the ring apron, while Wildchild covers Williams for the pin!

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Dace breaks up the pin with an elbow drop to Wildchild’s back! Wildchild gets up rubbing his back, giving Dace a dirty look as he walks back to his corner to a chorus of “boos”.

Refocusing on the man in the ring, Wildchild helps Williams to his feet for some more punishment. The Bahama Bomber draws back his arm, and pops Danny with a stiff elbow!

 

Crack!

 

But to his surprise, Danny comes back with an UBER STIFF Elbow Smash!

 

CRACK!

 

Limp as a corpse, Wildchid hits the mat like a sack of bricks!

 

Riley: Welcome to the heavyweight division, Wildchild.

 

Williams collapses on his hands and his knees, and crawls his way over to Dace, tagging him in! Dace hurries over to Wildchild, and quickly pulls him up in a standing head scissors! The crowd gasps in horror as Dace wraps his arms around Wildchild’s waist, and lifts him up on his shoulder for the....

 

Stevens: DARK STAR DRIVAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

Riley: Alright, some head dropping goodness!

 

The Wild One rolls through, landing safe and sound on his feet! Moving faster than the speed light, Wildchild runs into the ropes, and comes flying back at Dace.....

 

CRACK!

 

Laying him out with a Flying Forearm! Wildchild returns to his feet with a crowd pleasing kip up, and without warning, the little bastard darts into the Unholy Trinity corner....

 

CRACK!

 

Knocking Williams off the apron with a Running Elbow out of this nowhere place where moves keep coming from!

 

Stevens: Wildchild, giving Danny a taste of his own medicine.

 

Riley: Hardly, Danny wouldn’t have a head if that Elbow as hard as the one that finished Drazon at Battleground a few weeks back.

 

In a flash, Wildchild sprints over to his corner and tags in Dangerous! The women in the crowd whistle and holler like their at some type of boy band concert as the suave Secret Agent spring boards into the ring! Wildchild leaps up on to the top rope, while Dangerous somehow musters enough power in his thin legs to hoist Dace’s thick frame on his shoulders! Not wanting to miss the big finish, the excited fans rise out of their chairs in anticipation! Before the crowd can even take in the moment, Wildchild leaps off the top rope, catches Dace in a side headlock, and.....

 

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

Spikes Dace’s face into the mat with a skull shattering Bulldog!

 

Stevens: DANGEROUS DROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!

 

The crowd blows off the place as Dangerous rolls Dace over on his back, and hooks a leg for the pin. Wildchild as well as the fans scream along with Soapdish!

 

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! At the last possible second Williams comes diving under the bottom rope, crashing into the pile of bodies in front of him, breaking up the pin attempt!

 

Stevens: CLOSE CALL!

 

Riley: Danny just saved Dace’s ass, plain and simple!

 

Wildchild immediately starts stomping Danny, and Dangerous joins in, the crowd gives a mixed reaction for the heelish tactics. Having stomped a mud hole in Danny and walked it dry, Dangerous and Wildchild drags the ICTV Champion to his feet, push him against the ropes, and shoot him off with a double Irish whip! Moving in unison, Dangerous and Wildchild rush to the center of the ring, and simultaneously drill Williams with Dropkicks!

 

Stevens: NICE TEAM WORK FROM WILD AND DANGEROUS!

 

Riley: So it’s great team work if it’s Wild and Dangerous but if it’s Justice and Rule it’s cheating.

 

Feeling like he just got hit in the chest with a sledgehammer, Williams rolls out of the ring, wincing with every breath! Wildchild scrambles to his feet, grabs hold of the top rope, and Springboards over it on to Williams, squashing him with a dazzling Corkscrew Plancha to the roar of the crowd!

 

Stevens: WHAT A MANEUVER! Confident in the abilities of his partner, Wildchild is now looking to take Williams out of the match, and just give Dangerous the opportunity to take the rookie out!

 

Back in the ring, Dangerous helps the barely conscious rookie to his feet, spins clockwise, and.....

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

Floors the big man with a lethal Spinning Back First! Sensing the end is near, the crowd heat goes nuclear!

 

Stevens: URAKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!

 

Dangerous takes a bounce off the ropes, comes back, somersaults into the air, plunging his fist into Dace’s face!

 

Stevens: ARMED AND DANGEROUS!

 

With out a second to lose, Dangerous hooks both of Dace’s heavy legs for the pin!

 

Riley: THIS COULD BE IT, STEVENS!

 

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Dace somehow wiggles a shoulder up to the dismay of the Secret Agent man! Excited by the near fall, the crowd responds by jumping up and down with fists raised in the air, glad the match is gonna continue! Fatigue setting in, Dangerous just rolls over on his back, looking completely spent and drained.

 

Stevens: EVEN AFTER TAKING THAT SUPER BULLDOG, THE FIST DROP WAS NOT ENOUGH TO KEEP DACE DOWN!

 

Riley: Did you really expect the innovator of Horrorcore to lay down for a fist drop, I don’t care how many somersaults Dangerous does before it!

 

Stevens: It’s not so much the ineffectiveness of the fist drop as it is Dace’s determination to show that he has made the right choice in moving on with Danny, in order to do that he cannot allow himself to be pinned by his former partner!

 

On the outside, looking weary and winded himself, Wildchild crawls off Danny, realizing that the match isn’t over. Needing to by Dangerous more time, Wildchild pulls Williams up, and with all his might, whips him into the guardrail...

 

CLANK!

 

Williams crashes into the guardrail, and springs back as if the steel was ring ropes....

 

CRAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

Laying Wildchild out with a brutal....

 

Stevens: RUNNING ELBOW! RUNNING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

 

Riley: Damn, that made the one that knocked Drazon out look weak!

 

Williams collapses to his hands and knees, holding his back and grimacing. No longer moving with grace and speed, Dangerous sluggishly climbs to his feet, knowing that he has to take Dace out now.

 

Stevens: Williams is doing everything in his power to fight back and come to the aid of his partner, but it looks like he’s too late!

 

With Dace still laid out lifelessly on his back, Dangerous delivers a sickening Double Stomp to his abdomen!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

Leaving Dace lying in the center of the ring, Dangerous wanders to the nearest corner, and begins climbing the turnbuckles, sending the already crazed crowd into a frenzy!

 

Stevens: JOHNNY, LOOKING TO SEAL THE VICTORY WITH A MOONSAULT DOUBLE STOMP!

 

Riley: As much as I hate Johnny, I love that move, it’s just so brutal and dickish!

 

Dangerous reaches the second rope, when Danny Williams jumps on the apron, and starts pounding him with Elbow Smashes! After taking five straight head shots, Dangerous is left a drooling zombie, allowing Danny to gradually climb up on the second turnbuckles from the outside. Securing Dangerous on the second rope with a Front Facelock, Williams screams down at his partner...

 

“Come on, Dace, get up!”

 

Hearing his partner’s words, Dace begins making in effort to get back on his feet. All of sudden, Wildchild hops up on the apron, and begins pounding Williams’ back with forearms’, trying to knock him off the tope rope! Despite his back taking one hellvua beating, Williams clings to Dangerous with all his might, but it’s obvious he can’t take much more abuse......

 

CRAAAAAAAAACK!

 

The crowd roars as Wildchild goes flying off the ring apron, courtesy of a surprise Yakuza Kick from Dace Night!

 

Stevens: DACE NIGHT IS UP, AND HE’S JUST TAKEN OUT THE BAHAMA BOMBER!

 

Dace gets underneath Dangerous, balances him on his shoulders, and carries him out of the corner in the Powerbomb position! The fans watch in astonishment as Williams balances himself on the top rope, and springs into the air at Dangerous like a human missile!

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

Splattering his brains with a Diving Elbow! In that instant, Dace drops forward on his knees, bringing Dangerous down with a ring Powerbomb!

 

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

The ring continues to vibrate, even after the initial impact!

 

Stevens: OH MY GOD, DID YOU SEE HOW HARD HE LANDED!

 

Riley: I KNEW THAT MOVE WOULD BE WORTH SEEING!

 

Spotting Wildchild pulling himself up with the guardrail, Williams sprints across the ring, dives through the ropes....

 

CRAAAACK!

 

Knocking The Bahama Bomber back into the guardrail with a picture perfect Elbow Suicida! Meanwhile, Dace slowly crawls forward, folding Dangerous’ carcass up for the pin! No longer playing favorites, the wild crowd screams along with the count at the top of their lungs!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Appreciating the efforts of all four men, the crowd erupts into a thunderous standing ovation that threatens to shake the arena apart!

 

Stevens: IT’S OVER, DANNY AND DACE HAVE DEFEATED WILD AND DANGEROUS!

 

Riley: For the right to job to Justice and Rule!

 

Looking like he just got out of swimming a pool, the sweat soaked ICTV Champion climbs back into the ring. Williams helps Dace to his feet, and raises his hand while the crowd’s cheers morph into a “DACE NIGHT!” chant.

 

Funyon: The winner of the match at 12 minutes and 32 seconds, the team of Danny Williams and Dace Niiiiiiiiiiiiight!

 

Guilt ridden, Wildchild rolls into the ring, kneeling over Dangerous who looks for all intents and purposes, very dead. Looking very sorry for what he had to do to his friend, Dace also kneels beside Dangerous, assisting Wildchild in attempting to revive him. The chanting gradually morphs into a “Dangerous!” chant. After some rather tense moments, Dangerous regains conscious, and Wildchild and Dace help him to his feet to an ear shattering ovation!

 

Stevens: Despite Dace and Danny stealing their bid for the tag titles, it seems like the friendship between these three will remain intact.

 

Riley: Bah, the hell with this, on to Craven and Atlas!

Edited May 20, 2003 by Edwin MacPhisto

[Guest Suicide King]

SWF Commissioner Brian Applewhite, aka Suicide King, is interrupted from his work by the sound of his door bursting open, followed by the slamming sound of a thrown clipboard landing atop his desk.

 

King slowly glances up from his paperwork. "Yes?" he asks calmly.

 

Longdogger Pete, standing from his full height of six foot six, glares down at his employer. "What the hell is this?"

 

King shifts his gaze to the clipboard. "A copy of tonight's match schedule?" he correctly guesses.

 

Pete is unimpressed. "Where the hell do you get off booking me in a main event first blood match... against Neilsen, no less... just days after I return to active competition?"

 

King touches his fingertips together as he places his hands on the desk in contemplation. "Well, to be honest, I was watching a video package of some of your better matches, and I found a first blood match you fought in the JL against Low Brass... great stuff. You had a lot of fire in that match, a lot of determination. I wanted to see it again."

 

Pete frowns. "Brian, you know I don't have the same fire that I used to. I'm not the same man anymore."

 

King raises an eyebrow. "Then why the hell did you come back here, Pete, if you can't compete at the level you used to -- at the level I expect everyone in this league to compete at?"

 

Pete hesitates, and realizes he doesn't have a readily available answer to give King.

 

The commissioner continues. "This life isn't for you any more, Pete. It's time to move on. I'm told you've been doing some quality work as a trainer and road agent in the Junior League. I want to offer you a new position. We'd like to have you as a road agent here in the SWF itself."

 

"A road agent." Pete shakes his head. "Does it occur to you that perhaps I simply enjoy wrestling actively?"

 

"Look, here's the thing," King tries again. "We really need the extra help right now. I'm having a problem with another worker, and I really need someone to whip him back into fighting shape. You've got the skill and the time on your hands to do it, and your experience in the business makes you a logical choice."

 

"A problem with whom?" Pete demands to know.

 

"Frost."

 

"Frost?!" Pete looks furious. "You want me to work with that lunatic? No way in hell I'm working with that guy! He was a founding member of the Mag Seven! I still get the shakes thinking about how they almost ended Ash Ketchum's career, not so long ago."

 

"I don't care what you think of him personally, Pete," King replies. "Let me make this clear to you -- I'm not giving you a choice. You're going to do this for me, or else you're fired from the SWF... in any capacity."

 

"You can't do that!" Pete exclaims.

 

"I'm the commissioner," King corrects, "which means I can do whatever I'd like as it pertains to this company. You do this, or you're out."

 

"All right, Brian..." Pete thinks it over. "Fine. I'll figure something out. But on two conditions."

 

"Those being?" asks King, genuinely curious.

 

"One, I stay active both during and after my association with Frost. I'll settle for a reduced schedule while I'm doing you this favor, but by no means do I wish to retire."

 

"If you insist. And second?"

 

"Second," and Pete grins as he says this, "If this association is successful -- to your satisfaction, of course -- you grant us a shot at the tag team titles." Pete takes a moment to let that sink in. "As a reward for a job well done."

 

"Anything to feel like a champion again, eh, Pete?" King asks with some mock sarcasm. "All right then, you'll get your shot. If I'm satisfied with the results." King extends a hand, and Pete accepts it with a handshake.

 

"Good," says Pete. "Now, if you'll excuse me. It appears I have some work to do." With that, the newest road agent in the SWF turns around to exit the commissioner's office.

 

Just out of earshot, King calls after him. "And don't call me Brian."

[Guest Suicide King]

SWF Smarkdown rolls back into Atlanta, Georgia, “where parties don’t stop ‘till 8 in the mornin’!” Scanning the Phillips Arena, several signs are visible, including “King 3:16 says ‘YOU’RE SUSPENDED!’” and “I Came To Harass Bobby Riley“. It finally comes to rest on the (in)famous SWF announcers, sitting as usual at ringside.

 

Stevens: We’re here, right in The Heart of The South, for SWF Smarkdown!!! It doesn’t get any better than this!!!

 

Riley: If this is The Heart of The South, I’d hate to see it’s face...

 

Stevens: You have a problem with Atlanta, Bobby?

 

Riley: Well, it’s not so bad... once you ignore the rednecks and white trash.

 

The crowd boos at Riley’s comment, throwing garbage in his direction.

 

Stevens: The crowd didn’t like that, Bobby...

 

Riley: Man, it sounds like they got something stuck up their asses... like that time-

 

Stevens: This isn’t the Playgirl Channel, Bobby, so keep it clean. But next up, we’re in for a great US Title match!!!

 

Riley: Finally!!! We get to see Michael Craven, the man who may be the greatest US Champion since our new World Champion, Tom Flesher!

 

Stevens: Craven is now a two-time US Champion, defeating Mike Van Siclen at Battleground to regain his title and pride, but now, King has ordered it to be defended against the #1 Contender, the interesting Sean Atlas! You might want to get a tape out, folks, because this is sure to be a great match!!!

 

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' Crucifix Entrance: Atlas on a crucifix rising through the stage as the camera rotates around the image, escalating with the instensity of the music. As the soft notes come to an end, just before the drums kick in, a gradually louder electic guitar brings the start of the song to a climax, and...

 

*BOOM!!*

 

A colossal explosion goes off onstage leaving behind a misty haze of smoke. As it dissipates, the silhouette of a man appears, and is soon revealed to be Sean Atlas, The Smarktron having showed him breaking off the Crucifix during the explosion and now plays old match clips to the music. Sean walks down the ramp, staring out into the crowd with confidence while the fans show their apathy toward him. Introducing the masked man to them for the first time is Funyon:

 

Funyon: The following contest is scheduled for one-fall, and it is for the SWF United States Championship!!! Currently making his way to the ring, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 240 pounds, he is a member of The Magnificent Seven... SEEEEAAAANNNN ATLAS!

 

Atlas slides into the ring, getting to his feet as he continues to look out into the crowd while the announcers comment on this strange, bizarre man...

 

Riley: Sean Atlas is a very weird, very queer person...

 

Stevens: Bobby, Atlas isn’t like that... well, for what we know-

 

Riley: AHEM. Queer means “deviating from the customary”, Mark. And trust me, Atlas is not customary. Now stop twisting my words around and focus on the match, m’kay?

 

Back in the ring, Atlas is warming up on the ropes as the music fades out and the lights go down...

 

“BOOM-BOOM BOOM... BOOM...”

 

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 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...

 

Funyon has to practically scream into the mic as the crowd’s boos begin to override his voice.

 

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 Atlas.

 

Stevens: Atlas defeated Craven’s old tag partner, Longdogger Pete, on Lockdown, but stepping inside the squared circle with The Nightmare is a whole other story. He’s got more speed and agility then the Doggah has, but then again... Craven’s probably NEVER faced anyone as unorthodox as Sean Atlas!

 

Craven hands off his title after he reaches back and unhitching it, looking with confidence into the masked face of Sean Atlas. Thompson holds the title up before he hands it off to the timekeeper. After determining both men are ready, Thompson steps back and signals for the bell...

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

Stevens: And we are under way!!!

 

Craven and Atlas quickly begin circling each other, Craven lunging in to fake the collar and elbow tie-up, then quickly returing to circle. Atlas follows suit, both men anticipating the other to jump the gun. Atlas lunges in again, but as he reaches out to grab Craven...

 

“SMACK!”

 

Craven unloads a huge bitchslap across Atlas’ face, sending a loud cracking sound echoing through the arena as the crowd jeers. Atlas turns away, caught by surprise, but he turns and takes another step forward. He goes for another tie up just as Craven winds up, and...

 

“SMACK!”

 

...Unleashes another slap pulling his hand back, to reveal a visible red handprint across Sean’s cheek. The US Champion’s smile grows a mile wide as Atlas staggers back, but Atlas regains his composure and lunges forward. Suddenly, the two men throw down in a collar and elbow tie-up. Each man scrambles greatly for leverage, feet firm against the ground, but a sudden burst of power from Craven knocks Atlas back. The hold is broken, Atlas landing back first against the turnbuckle. He quickly pops out, and the two men once more tie-up, with the same result. Sean lets out a small, unnoticeable grunt as his back hits the turnbuckle. Atlas yet again hops out of the turnbuckle, readying for a third collar and elbow tie-up. Craven steps forward as Atlas moves towards him, swinging his arm forward as he tries for a clothesline. Atlas, though, ducks, stepping behind Craven before he wraps his arms from behind Sean in a waistlock. Before Craven can be suplexed, though, he fires off two quick elbows, allowing him to escape the lock, and spinning around, throws a knee into Atlas’ chest. Atlas doubles over before Craven grabs him around the head. Craven then stomps the mat as he lifts Atlas up, and falls back, rolling him into a hard snap suplex!

 

Stevens: Textbook snap suplex from The Nightmare as he hits the first move!

 

Riley: This is all part of Craven’s starting strategy: wear the opponent down to the point where he starts to slow down, then stick it to him!

 

As Craven gets to his feet, Atlas rising to his his, he drops to his knees as he grabs Sean, throwing him over onto his back with a fireman’s carry! Atlas hits the mat hard, landing on his back again, but once more, he perseveres and rises to his feet, just in time for...

 

“SLAP!”

 

 

... a hard slap across the chest! “Whoooo!!!” replies the crowd as Craven draws his arm back and slaps Atlas across the chest with another hard chop, causing the fans to go “Whoooooo!!!” again. Craven then suddenly switches over to right hands, delivering two hard ones to Sean’s temple before he grabs Sean’s wrist and whips him to the ropes!

 

Stevens: Craven seems to be playing it a little cautiously in the early going...

 

Riley: I’m telling you, it’s technique and strategy. Craven is NOT afraid of Sean Atlas!

 

As Atlas flies back off the ropes, Craven grabs him in a belly to belly waistlock, lifts him up, and pivots 180 degrees, driving Sean into the mat back first. The ring shakes loudly as the crowd begins to boo a little.

 

Stevens: Spinebuster from Craven!!! Big impact move by The Nightmare, and here’s the cover!

 

One-

 

Kickout from Atlas! The crowd dies down a bit as Craven grabs hold of the masked Atlas, pulling him up onto his feet. A quick kick to the chest prevents Atlas from striking Craven, and grabbing Atlas’ arm, The Nightmare sends him to the ropes with a whip again.

 

Stevens: Michael Craven working over Sean Atlas in the early going, looking for a potential weakness he can exploit.

 

Riley: How about the fact that Sean Atlas sucks?

 

Stevens: Now that’s just rude.

 

Riley: Fine. I’m sorry, Mark... that you’re such a stuck-up, little-

 

Bobby is cut off as Atlas strikes the ropes and flies back at Craven, but he ducks low, scooping up Craven’s legs before he flips him down to the mat! A double leg takedown slams Craven to the canvas, where he slowly gets up from as Atlas climbs to his feet. Atlas scores an abrupt one-two knee combination to the head of Michael Craven as he rises up, then grabs him around the head. Sean stomps the mat as he lifts Craven up, and falls back, rolling him into a hard snap suplex! Craven slams hard back first into the mat, but Atlas rolls over, lifting Craven back to his feet, where again he throws him back into a hard snap suplex! Craven slams into the mat for a second time, only to have Atlas roll over and cover him, attempting to pin Craven as the ref drops to the mat...

 

 

...Craven kicking out before the ref’s knees hit the canvas!

 

Stevens: Whoa!!! Atlas got nothing on that pin attempt!!!

 

Riley: Duh. Like some snap suplexes are gonna do much damage...

 

Atlas looks a little befuddled, at least expecting a one-count, but he doesn’t have time to think, Craven slowly rising to his feet. Knowing he can’t take The Gulf Coast Hurricane lightly, Atlas delivers a hard right into Craven’s knee to stun him for a second, but he instead trips forward, falling towards Sean. Atlas, though, grabs him and lifts Craven up so he lies stomach first across Sean's shoulders. Atlas falls backwards so he lands with his upper body on top of Craven, who lands back first on the mat.

 

Stevens: Fallaway slam by Sean Atlas as he continues to work his unorthodox style of slams and suplexes over wearing a certain body part down!

 

Riley: And what sense does that make? He’s just gonna tire himself out first, but hey, whatever. Craven’s gonna win if he exhausts himself.

 

Both men slowly rise to their feet, but Atlas grabs Craven through his legs and picks him up, quickly slamming him down with a scoop slam! Craven’s back hits the mat again, and this time, he’s slow to get up as he recovers, doubled over as he tries to catch his breath. Seeing this, Sean Atlas grabs Craven’s arm and stretches it out to the side. Atlas then steps over it, arm between his legs, facing away from the body of The Gulf Coast Hurricane. He flips forward, catching Michael Craven with his legs on the way, carrying him over onto his back! The two slam into the mat, but Atlas quickly follows up the move with a pin, the ref dropping down to count:

 

One!

 

Two-

 

Kickout by Craven at one and three-quarters! A sign of slight exhaustion shows up in Craven’s breath as he tries to get to his feet, Atlas rising to his and going after Craven with punches to the back and kicks to the knee as he tries to wear Craven down.

 

Stevens: A stepover legdrop from Sean Atlas knocks Craven to the mat for just under a two count! The Nightmare is looking tired!

 

Riley: Don’t you even say we might have a new champion. I don’t want to hear you speak that blasphemy.

 

The pummeling continues as Craven slwoly rises to his feet through it, taking a beating in the process. He tries to hold back any emotions that show he might be in pain. Atlas continues to beat on him, even as he gets to his feet, grabbing Craven by the arm and hastefully whipping him to the ropes!

 

Riley: You know, I had a dream about a match like this last night. The Elk ended up spearing everyone, even me!

 

Stevens: But The Elk didn’t “spear” you the way you wanted it, right?

 

Riley: Enough with that non-sense, Mark. Everyone knows I’m a 100% straight man.

 

Stevens: In your dreams, Bobby... in your dreams...

 

Craven bounces hard off the ropes, flying back at Sean Atlas, but the M7 member is harshly cut-off by a monstrous Michael Craven clothesline! Atlas’ body does a flip in the air before he lands face first on the mat, Craven taking a quick breather as he tries to recover from Atlas’ offense.

 

Riley: WHOA! Craven strikes back with authority!!! Did you see Atlas flip? DID YOU?!?!

 

Craven quickly goes right into his rib-related offense as Atlas recovers from the clothesline, moving towards Sean. He throws quick body blows in before he grabs Atlas and hoists him up across his chest. As Craven holds Atlas across his chest, he quickly drops to a knee, slamming Atlas onto the other knee with a rib breaker! Atlas cries in pain as the crowd winces, Craven lifting Sean back into the air before dropping him into another rib breaker! The crowd gives an “Ooooh!” sound as Atlas screams out again, Craven lifting him up for the final time as he hits a third straight rib breaker on Sean! Releasing Atlas, Craven takes in the crowd’s boos while Atlas lies on the mat, clutching his ribs in pain.

 

Stevens: There’s those massive rib breakers from Michael Craven he uses, and it looks like... cover on Sean Atlas by Craven! Is it enough?

 

One!!!

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

Kickout by Atlas! An unhappy Craven responds, jamming his knee into Atlas’ side. Atlas cries out, trying to roll onto his chest, but Craven catches him with another knee as he does. Atlas cries out, rolling towards the ropes, Craven crawling in pursuit, trying to catch Atlas. Sean, though, gets to the ropes, chest facing up, but as he does, Craven reaches him and starts pummeling him in the chest with hard right and left handed blows, the referee quickly grabbing Craven and pulling him off Atlas. Craven swings his arm back violently, nearly taking the ref out as Thompson explains the rope break to Craven. The Nightmare, though, aruges back, angry at Thompson’s call while the crowd boos.

 

Stevens: Craven is not happy with the call by referee Timmy Thomspon!

 

Riley: Can he be? That was a cheap call!

 

Craven bends down, pulling Atlas back to his feet, not smiling as the crowd continues to boo. The Nightmare makes sure Sean Atlas feels the pain, immediately nailing Atlas with a hard right to the chest! Atlas goes down stunned, dropping to the mat on his knees for a second. He slowly rises to his feet, where Craven fires off two hard body blows, Atlas grunting with each one, and whips Atlas to the ropes. Atlas hits them and comes off them hard into Craven’s waiting arms as he lifts Sean up in the air as if for a back drop, but instead of tossing him over, pushes him up in the air when Atlas is horizontal and forcing him to hit the mat hard on his chest and face with a huge flap jack!!! Atlas 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 Atlas at barely under two and a quarter! Craven drops right back down, trying to cover Atlas again...

 

One!!!

 

Two-

 

Abrupt kickout by Atlas at two! Craven can’t believe it as he gets to his feet. He grabs hold of Atlas, screaming at the ref about the “slow count” as he pulls Sean to his feet.

 

Stevens: Craven has not been able to get Sean Atlas down on the mat long enough for a pin!

 

Riley: Trust me... he’s got a plan... and he’s about to execute it!

 

Once there, Craven suddenly and abruptly grabs him around the head and arm, and flipping forward, scissors Atlas’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 SEAN ATLAS!!! He used this move to beat Wildchild on Storm! Will lightning strike twice?

 

Atlas 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 Atlas, 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 still might be able to counter it!

 

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...

 

 

 

...Rolling Craven onto his back...

 

 

...But Craven rolls over...

 

 

 

...Then Atlas...

 

 

 

...Then Craven...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...And then Atlas again as he rolls against the ropes. He quickly lifts his leg up, slowly hooking the rope with his boot! The ref notes this, calling for a rope break!

 

Stevens: A rope break called by Timmy Thompson, Craven again not happy with Thompson’s officiating!

 

Riley: With calls like that, I’d be protesting, too!!! Thompson for weeks now has been trying to screw Craven out of wins! But each time, he has somehow pulled through!!

 

Stevens: You say it every week, and every week at the same times, Bobby. It’s a stale argument.

 

Riley: It’s a problem that must be brought to light! Now, if Tom Flesher was reffing the match...

 

Stevens: You’d probably whine even more than normal.

 

As Craven pulls Atlas to his feet, he smiles, drawing his arm back winds up for a huge punch, but as he swings forward, Atlas somehow ducks it! As he ducks, Atlas moves behind Craven and wraps his arms around Craven from behind in a waistlock. The M7 member then lifts The Nightmare off his feet as he drops back, Craven flying through the air via German suplex!!! Craven lands hard on his neck again as the crowd barely pops, happy to see someone fighting back against Craven... even if it is Sean Atlas.

 

Riley: Why are they cheering Sean Atlas? Are they morons?

 

Stevens: They’re your fans.

 

Riley: They’re not my fans! Look at the kids with the Goldberg shirts! They’re WCW fans! WCW is gay!

 

Stevens: That’s why I said they’re your fans.

 

Riley: SOOOO NOT TRUE!!!

 

Craven staggers to his feet away from Sean Atlas, Atlas slowly rising onto his feet. As Craven turns around, staggering forward for a second, Atlas waistlocks Mike, lifting him up into the air before relasing him in mid-air, Mike flipping over and slamming onto his back with a belly-to-belly suplex!

 

Stevens: WHOA!! Big belly-to-belly suplex from Sean Atlas!!! Craven is down in pain!!!

 

Craven lands hard, sitting up from the blow as he grabs his back, slowly trying to move around to get up as a slowly re-energized Sean Atlas climbs to his feet, grabbing his ribs in pain as he climbs up.

 

Riley: Then why is he getting up?

 

Stevens: Look how slow he’s getting up comapred to Atlas!!! He’s not doing to well!!

 

As Craven slowly gets to his feet, Atlas charges at him, hoping to knock him back down...

 

 

 

“THUD!”

 

 

But instead, Craven sticks his knee up, driving it into Atlas’ gut, sending the masked maniac back to the canvas instead with a flip!

 

Riley: YEAH!!! Surprise attack on Sean Atlas, and he’s down!!!

 

Stevens: Craven goes right back to working that chest with the knee strike... but those slams are starting to take their toll. I can see it in the way he’s moving slower!

 

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

 

Stevens: Knee smash by Craven into Sean Atlas’ 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. Atlas falls to the ground as the crowd boos, but Craven ignores their boos, grabbing Atlas and pulling him to his feet. Lifting him up, arm wrapped around the head, Craven lifts Atlas into the air, stalling for a second as the crowd watches in awe.

 

Stevens: What is Craven trying for here, Bobby? A Brainbuster? A Suplex?

 

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 Atlas fall to the mat as one!

 

 

“THUD!!!”

 

Atlas’s chest slams into the mat as the two collide with the canvas, compliments of a reverse suplex!!!

 

Stevens: HUGE REVERSE SUPLEX FROM CRAVEN!!! ATLAS IS DOWN... Wait!

 

The Nightmare is not finished as he slowly rises hto his feet, and boy, do we mean slowly. His breath is heavy as he slips once before rising to his feet, still holding onto Atlas. He does nothing for a few seconds, only trying to regain his breath, his offense slowing to a grind, but he eventually starts up again. Slowly, he bends down, grabbing Atlas’ leg, and once again, slowly lifts him into the air, this time a leg hooked as he falls backwards, both men slamming down onto the mat into a fisherman’s suplex!!!

 

Riley: YES! That’s what he needs to do!!!

 

Stevens: Fisherman’s suplex from Craven! But he looks God damn tired!!! Here’s the count!

 

 

One!!!

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!!! ATLAS BARELY BREAKS OUT OF THE PIN! The crowd pops insanely Craven lies on his back and spews out a few profanities, Riley speechless as Stevens goes hysterical.

 

Stevens: HE KICKED OUT!! I DON’T BELIEVE IT!!

 

Riley: Neither do I...

 

Stevens: Craven had an exhausted Atlas pinned to the mat, but he couldn’t get the job done! He choked, and by God, that could be the match changer right there!

 

Riley: I hope not! Craven’s put too much into this to lose!

 

As he gets to his feet. Craven slowly pulls up Atlas, throwing his knee into Sean’s chest twice before he grabs him by the arm and whips him to the ropes. As Atlas 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 Atlas with amazing force!

 

 

...Or he would, except Atlas baseball slides through Craven’s open legs! The Nightmare turns around, coming face-to-face with the challenger! Craven looks stunned, but a tired Atlas draws his arm back...

 

“SLAP!”

 

 

... delivering a hard slap across the chest! “Whoooo!!!” replies the crowd as Atlas draws his arm back and slaps Craven across the chest with another hard chop, causing the fans to go “Whoooooo!!!” again. He repeats the movement, hitting Craven with a third chop. The Nightmare staggers back, allowing Atlas to run at half-pace to the ropes.

 

Stevens: Look at Atlas! He’s come alive again!! Perhaps he was playing possum!

 

Riley: *tsk-tsk* Mark, Mark, Mark... Atlas has not come alive again. Sean Atlas is moving as fast as Caveman Chris’s thought process.

 

As Atlas hits the ropes, he bounces off them, still not at full speed. Craven’s able to recover from the chops by then, and seeing Atlas coming off the ropes towards him, he prepares himself. As Atlas is about to hit him, he grabs him from the side, holding him place for a Rock Bottom, but Atlas reacts, throwing a desperation elbow into the side of Craven’s head. This move stuns Craven and allows Atlas to grab Craven and hook his left leg, sweeping it out before he slams Craven hard into the mat with a side leg trip!

 

Stevens: STO from Atlas!!! Sean Atlas has knocked Craven to the mat, and here’s the cover!!!

 

Riley: God dammit!! This isn’t supposed to be happening!!!

 

One!!!

 

Two!!!

 

 

 

Kickout by Craven! The Nightmare’s shoulder thrusts up before two and a half, and Sean Atlas is forced to go back to working on Craven, slowly trying to get to his feet as he grabs Craven and pulls him up.

 

Stevens: Just under two and a half for Sean Atlas! He might have Craven right where we wants, Bobby!!!

 

Riley: I hope not!! Craven’s too good to lose to a masked moron like Atlas!!

 

As Atlas pulls Craven to his feet, he thrusts his leg into Craven’s midsection. The Nightmare cries in pain as Atlas hits Craven with anther kick... then another... then another, each one taking effect. Atlas changes up his rhythm, though, opting to go high for a very rare kick to the head, but in doing so, he allows Craven to duck that one. Craven moves behind Sean, and as both men turn around, Craven goes for a kick to the chest, but Atlas grabs his leg, quickly putting on a facelock and flipping over, launching Craven into a rough leg capture suplex!!! Craven slams hard onto his back, leaving him open for Sean Atlas to pin his shoulders to the mat!

 

 

One!!!

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

THR-NO! Kickout from Craven! The crowd boos as Atlas sits up, very unhappy with the call as he stares with an evil glare at Thompson.

 

Riley: Ha-ha! Too bad, Mark. Sean Atlas couldn’t do it! He couldn’t pin Michael Craven to the mat!

 

Stevens: It’s not over yet, Bobby! Atlas still controls the match!

 

As Atlas pulls Craven up, he grabs him by the arm and whips him to the ropes, but Craven reverses the whip. Atlas, though, doesn’t release, instead yanking on Craven’s arm. Pulling The Nightmare towards him, he steps behind Craven, crossing his arms, and quickly lifting him up, drops him suddenly into a straightjacket suplex! The M7 meber holds the arms, though, bridging into another pinfall!

 

One!!!

 

 

Two!!!

 

THREE-NO! Kickout from Craven! The crowd can’t believe it as the pin breaks, Atlas sitting up in shock, hands on his masked face before he tries to get to his feet.

 

Riley: Yes! Craven survives!!!

 

Stevens: Barely, Bobby!

 

 

As a worn-down Craven gets to his feet, stunned by the turn of events, Atlas catches him off-guard, and with a right-footed boot to the chest, causes Craven to double over. Sean then wraps Craven in a front headlock and drops back into a DDT, slamming Craven to the mat!

 

Stevens: DDT!! Craven’s down again!

 

Riley: It can’t end! Not like this!

 

Stevens: Hold on, Bobby... Craven’s struggling to get to his feet... but will he?

 

As Craven slowly gets to his feet following the move, totally dazed, a rising Atlas has him in his sights. He slowly shuffles his feet while Craven staggers forward, thrusting his leg up...

 

 

 

...But Craven blocks the superkick, catching Atlas’ leg! Atlas looks stunned that Craven could block the kick, but he knows what to do next. He leaps off his other foot, but instead of going for an enziguri, he does a backflip, kicking Craven square in the face! Craven staggers back, landing on the ropes as he grabs his face, Atlas flipping and landing on his chest. He cries out in pain, but slowly pushes himself onto his feet. The ropes, meanwhile, bounce Craven back into the center of the rng, still dazed from the Cruise Kick as Atlas struggles to his feet. The timing is perfect, though, because just as Atlas recovers, Craven nearly bumps into him, allowing Sean to reach back and lock Craven in a 3/4 facelock!!!

 

Stevens: SHORT FUSE!! ATLAS HAS CRAVEN SET UP FOR THE SHORT FUSE!!! This is quite a rare sight in Sean Atlas matches, as he barely ever uses this move!!

 

As Atlas prepares to swing The Nightmare around, Craven goes into depseration mode, hooking underneath Sean’s arms to prevent Atlas from hitting the move! Atlas tries to fight the full nelson hold, but using everything he’s got, Craven hoists him into the air, swinging him so his body faces down before pushing off, throwing Atlas face-first into the mat! Atlas hits the canvas with tremendous force, bouncing over onto his back as a result while he grabs his chest, but Craven pays the price as well, collapsing back onto the ropes, landing on the third rope and remaining there as the sweat drips from his face, The Nightmare trying to draw some oxygen into his lungs.

 

Riley: RED FUSION!!! RED FUSION!!!

 

Stevens: But Craven’s too exhausted to even pin Atlas!!! He can barely hold himself up!!! What will happen next?

 

Riley: The hell if I know. I’m full expecting The Elk to run down the ramp and spear both men like he did before!

Steens: When?

 

Riley: Last night.

 

Stevens: Oh come on! You told me before that you dreamed that!!! It never happened!

 

Riley: It wasn’t a dream, I tell you!!! King really is Jesus Christ, Superstar!!!

 

As Craven rests on the ropes, he looks down at Sean Atlas, then over at the nearest turnbuckle.

 

Stevens: He’s going for the corner! What’s he gonna do?

 

He eventually reaches the corner, and slowly, he grabs the top rope, dragging himself up, stepping onto the ropes as he pulls himself up...

 

 

 

...and mounts the turnbuckles! Turning slowly around and looking down at Mike, Craven stands tall and confident. The crowd knows what’s coming next, and so does Riley.

 

Riley: It's time for the Best Damn Finisher....in the WORLD!! Heehee!

 

Throwing himself off the turnbuckle, Craven does a perfect backward somersault in the air, flipping 360 degrees and then some, the flashes of cameras bouncing off his skin, sweat flying from his body as it spins, his knee driving down straight...

 

 

 

 

Into the chest of Sean Atlas, the shooting star knee drop hitting its intended target! The crowd begins to boo as Craven hits Atlas, falling forward, unable to hook Atlas’ leg because of his exhaustion, but his body drapes over the shoulders of Sean Atlas as his knees slide back off the M7 member, the ref dropping to count as Riley jumps for joy at the announcers’ table:

 

 

 

 

One!!!

 

 

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“Cochise” begins to blare over the speakers as Thompson signals that this one’s over, getting the belt from the timekeeper.

 

Funyon: Your winner and still SWF US CHAMPION... MICHAEL CRAVENNNNN!!!

 

Craven is handed the belt while he tries to get up, but he just falls right back over. He’s too spent from the match to move a muscle, and his energy has all but been drained. Craven’s belt girls enter the ring to try and help up their wrestler, but they have some trouble lifitng the 280 pound monster by themselves.

 

Stevens: Another big title defense for The Gulf Coast Hurricane... but it looks like he is spent!! He can’t even get to his feet!

 

Riley: And you’re acting like it’s bad? The crowd obviously loves it! Listen to them!

 

The crowd continues to boo as Riley looks at least a little embarassed, Craven still not able to get to his feet.

 

Stevens: Bobby, they’re booing.

 

Riley: ... I know...

 

Stevens: But anyways, we’ve got more exciting SWF action lined up next, so stay tuned!!!

[Guest Suicide King]

We fade in on Ben Hardy, standing next to the Spectacle, Mike Van Siclen, in front of the SWF Smarkdown backdrop. Hardy stands motionless for a few seconds before a voice in his earpiece whispers “We’re on…” and like that Ben Hardy’s demeanor is changed, the toolish youngster lighting up like a Christmas tree as he intros us.

 

“Ben Hardy here, alongside Mike Van Siclen. Mike, tonight you face what could be considered your toughest challenge yet, as you go head-to-head with Ejiro Fasaki, tag champion, and more importantly the leader of Catch-22, Beezel. Mike, what is your approach coming into this match?”

 

Mike eyes Ben carefully, choosing his words with care as he begins to speak. “Ben, normally I’d say that me and El Scorcho would team up and send a message to Ejiro Fasaki and the whole of the Magnificent Seven by laying a beatdown on them.” Mike pauses for emphasis. “However, tonight this match has an added stipulation – the winner will receive a shot at Danny Williams. Ben, I know you never won any gold in your career, so to try to describe the feeling of holding that belt over your head while thousands of fans are screaming out your name – Ben, it’s a natural high, and I’ll do anything to get that feeling.”

 

“Even take out your own leader?”

 

Mike nods. “I’d take out my own mother if it meant getting that feeling again.”

 

“Strong words from Mike Van Siclen. Back to you…”

 

“Whoa, Ben, hold up. Before you give it to Axis, don’t forget that on Storm my people will see the biggest event in my SWF Career. Fans, don’t miss it – “A Portrait Of Mike Van Siclen”, a revealing – and live – interview between me and a face from the past. You don’t want to miss it.”

 

Mike casually hands the microphone back to Ben Hardy, strolling away as Hardy begins speaking. “Next week, a portrait of Mike Van Siclen, but tonight he faces off against Beezel and Ejiro Fasaki for number one contendership to the SWF ICTV Title. Mark, back to you.”

[Guest Suicide King]

As SWF Smarkdown returns to the airwaves from the sold-out Phillips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia, the lights go down slightly, keeping the arena somewhat shrouded in darkness. The fans begin to cheer, then go through the roof as “Godzilla” by Blue Oyster Cult begins to play over the speakers. As the guitar kicks in, although the change is barely audible over the Atlanta crowd’s cheers, the SmarkTron™ lights up with the name “STRANGLER” in big white letters as a massive burst of white pyro explodes from the stage. As the pyro begins to die down, Strangler emerges from the pyro to a renewed burst of enthusiasm from the fans. He looks out at the crowd with a smile plastered across his face. His gaze scans across the arena before the smile disappears as Strangler begins to stalk down the entrance ramp.

 

Funyon: This match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, weighing in at 303 pounds, from BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, he is the BOSTON………….STRRRRRRANGLER!

 

Strangler rolls into the ring before climbing the turnbuckle and raising both fists in the air, drawing another wave of cheers from the crowd. As Strangler hops off the turnbuckle, “WATCH ME EXPLOOOOOOOOOOODE!” booms through the arena. The arena erupts into a fresh round of cheers as Taylor Nicholas Thompson appears on the stage. He raises one arm into the air briefly, staring out at the crowd, before starting on his way down towards the ring.

 

Funyon: And his opponent, from Anaheim, California, weighing in at 266 pounds, he is Taylor Nicholas Thompson…..TEEEEE-NNNNNNNN-TEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

 

Thompson slides into the ring, and is immediately decapitated by a Strangler clothesline, which sends the surprised Thompson falling to the canvas as the crowd’s cheers nearly drown out the ring bell signaling the start of the match.

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!

 

 

Grand Slam: Strangler wastes NO time in going after TNT! This match is underway, and Strangler wants it over as soon as possible!

 

Riley: THERE’S a shocker. Strangler wants to win fast. Stevens, you might have finally gotten us that Emmy!

 

Strangler begins the match with a series of hard kicks to the ribcage of TNT, sending the Anaheim native rolling out of the ring in order to escape the early assault. Strangler stays on the inside, staring at Taylor, who pauses, regrouping from the quick assault by Strangler. Strangler watches as Thompson shakes his head, then rolls back into the ring, unimpaired by Strangler, who stands in a corner, watching Taylor as he slips to his feet. TNT walks around the edge of the ring as the crowd pops for Taylor. Strangler grows impatient, and stalks into the middle of ring, where he extends his hands, looking for a tie-up with Taylor.

 

Grand Slam: Riley, you HAVE to be kidding me! Strangler wants to lock up with TNT! Thompson would be a fool to go ahead with that!

 

Riley: Well, looks like your fool isn’t gonna listen to you…

 

Sure enough, TNT is approaching Strangler, with both his arms extended. Strangler, who has a distinct size advantage, looks surprised that Taylor has accepted Strangler’s challenge. Strangler sets himself and reaches forward to lock up with TNT, but Thompson quickly hops backwards, then sends a lightning fast kick slamming into Strangler’s stomach. Strangler’s arms drop to his side as he breathes in sharply, surprised by Taylor’s deceit. The crowd cheers as TNT sends his right elbow crashing into Strangler’s side again, followed by a hard left cross to Strangler’s jaw. Strangler bends slightly, and Thompson leaps into the air before landing a huge right elbow squarely on Strangler’s jaw. The big man lurches backwards, nearly falling over before landing against the ropes. TNT charges forward and drills Strangler with the Cactus Clothesline, which sends both men falling over the top rope to the outside.

 

Grand Slam: TNT takes control, but now the men are on the outside. This is undoubtedly Strangler’s yard, as he’s one of the greatest HGC champions in SWF history!

 

Strangler quickly gets to his feet, followed by TNT, who tries to shake the cobwebs out as he looks up. Strangler quickly grabs TNT, drills him with a hard right clothesline, and rolls him straight back into the ring before rolling back in himself.

 

Riley: Oooh, look at the big scary hardcore man, Stevens! You better look out for this guy on the outside, or else he might ROLL YOU BACK INTO THE RING! OH NO!!!!

 

Grand Slam: You know, I don’t mock you when you’re wrong…which you are a lot.

 

Riley: Shove it, Stevens. You know I’m never wrong, just like Tom Flesher. Which reminds me: Tom Flesher is MY personal god of choice. Haven’t mentioned that recently.

 

Grand Slam: Both these men have issues with Tom…it should be interesting to see how they interact after this match.

 

Riley: Who cares about after this match? Check out what’s going on in the ring now!

 

Strangler immediately stalks over to TNT, who is still lying on the ground, somewhat dazed from the clothesline. Strangler delivers a sharp boot to the upper chest of Thompson before bending over and yanking TNT to his feet in one clean motion. TNT offers no resistance as Strangler whips him into the ropes. TNT runs back and ducks under a Strangler clothesline, and bounces off the far ropes. He charges towards Strangler and delivers another hard right elbow to the jaw of Strangler, who staggers backwards. TNT looks up and sees Strangler still on his feet. He hops to his feet and charges straight at Strangler, hitting him with a hard shoulder thrust to Strangler’s sternum. Strangler staggers back once again, but continues to stay on his feet. The fans cheer on Strangler as he shakes his head, and sees TNT coming straight at him yet again. Ejiro jumps into the air with a flying forearm attempt, but Strangler easily catches him up against his body before sending him into the ground with a huge spinebuster. Strangler drops to the mat and covers Ejiro as Billy Chioda quickly drops to the mat for the first pinfall of the match.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

TW……..

 

Grand Slam: And a kickout by TNT, who wasn’t able to take the big man down despite all the offense.

 

Riley: The bigger they are, the harder they fall! And anyone who crosses King AND Tom Flesher as much as Strangler has is going to fall sooner or later.

 

Strangler quickly rolls over and gives Chioda a quick glance before returning to TNT. Thompson throws a quick punch at Strangler’s jaw, trying to regain control of the match, but Strangler drills him right back. Strangler knees Thompson in the stomach quickly, doubling TNT over before Strangler sends TNT straight back to the ground with a hard hammer to the back. TNT pushes himself onto his side and starts hoisting himself up in Strangler’s corner. Strangler charges forward and drills TNT with a clothesline in the ropes. Taylor tries to shrug off the attack, but Strangler starts opening up on TNT with a barrage of punches to his chest. TNT recoils from the rapid-fire burst of punches, then goes flying back into the turnbuckle as Strangler closes with a big right cross to the face.

 

Riley: Closed fists! Closed fists! C’mon Chioda, do your job! DQ both of ‘em!

 

Grand Slam: Why both of them?

 

Riley: Because they both suck, of course.

 

Strangler whips TNT across the ring into his own corner, and follows it up with another clothesline in the corner. TBS grabs Thompson and drops him to the mat with a falling neckbreaker. Strangler pulls TNT out of the corner into the middle of the ring and drops down for the cover.

 

ONE!!!!!!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

Riley: And another easy kickout! Strangler can’t take out TNT with a NECKBREAKER! I guess it’s true: Big guy, small brain. See Stevens, you’re just another piece of the puzzle.

 

Grand Slam: Strangler is just making TNT work a little bit more! It’s called “strategy”. Getting out from under a 300 pounder isn’t an easy thing to do.

 

Riley: That’s what everyone says about your mom. BURN!

 

Grand Slam: You’re so immature.

 

Strangler looks over at Chioda again before hoisting TNT up to his feet. Strangler leads in with another pair of hard punches, and then runs backwards off the ropes. Strangler charges towards TNT, who ducks under a Strangler clothesline, and watches the big Bostonian go rebounding off the ropes on the other side of the ring. As Strangler rumbles back towards Thompson, TNT leaps into the air with a spinning elbow, and gets nothing but air, as Strangler stops short. TNT gets his bearings and turns towards Strangler, who grabs TNT by the throat, which draws a huge pop from the crowd.

 

Grand Slam: Strangler’s going for the chokeslam early in this one! Plunge time for Thompson!

 

However, TNT quickly lashes out with a hard kick to the shin of Strangler. Strangler releases the choke hold, dropping TNT back to the mat. Strangler bends down and holds his shin as Thompson quickly darts to his feet. Thompson looks up at Strangler, and then extends his hands, looking to lock up with Strangler again.

 

Riley: TNT is truly moronic! Why try this again? Even Strangler isn’t dumb enough to fall for the same trick twice!

 

Grand Slam: Well, Strangler will never back down from a show of strength!

 

Strangler looks over oddly at TNT, who just beckons to Strangler to lock up with him. The crowd cheers on TNT as the look in his eyes bores a hole through Strangler. Strangler shrugs his shoulders and locks hands with TNT, drawing yet another pop from the crowd. The two men lock eyes, exchanging a glare before returning to the task at hand. Strangler, with the veins in his neck bulging, presses forward with all his might, as TNT presses right back. Slowly, then more and more quickly, Strangler begins to gain an edge, forcing TNT further and further toward the mat. Thompson’s eyes showcase a slight hint of panic, but the panic in his eyes is quickly replaced by a slight grin on his face, despite Strangler forcing him even closer to the mat. As Strangler’s arrogant smirk begins to return to his face, TNT suddenly slide-steps Strangler, and releases his grip on Strangler’s hands. Strangler goes stumbling, and falls straight on his face as TNT, not wasting any time, drops to the mat and locks on a Fujiwara armbar.

 

Grand Slam: He’ll NEVER fool him twice…

 

Riley: Shut up, Stevens. You said you never mocked me!

 

Grand Slam: You made it seem like so much fun that I had to try it!

 

Strangler strains against TNT, who keeps the armbar on Strangler, who is pinned to the mat by the 266-pound frame of TNT pressed against his back. Strangler ignores the ref’s repeated questions of whether he’s ready to pack it in, and instead reaches forward for the ropes, just inches away. Strangler slides forward on the canvas, then extends, grasping the bottom rope in his right hand. TNT immediately releases the hold, and hops to his feet, enjoying the cheers of the crowd as Strangler holds his left shoulder, massaging it to get the feeling back.

 

Grand Slam: TNT has gotten off to a spectacular start!

 

TNT reaches down for Strangler, and grabs ahold of his greasy, shoulder-length black hair to pull him to his feet. Strangler, still dazed by the onslaught from Thompson, barely resists as TNT sends Strangler sailing against the ropes. Strangler comes flying back toward TNT, who raises his foot into the air. Strangler goes flying straight into Thompson’s raised foot, dropping him straight to the canvas with a loud thud as the crowd cheers on the move once again.

 

Grand Slam: A big boot from TNT, and Thompson has simply exploded…pardon my pun. Strangler doesn’t know what hit him!

 

Riley: First of all, no more puns from you. Second of all, Strangler’s still rusty! TNT’s been active for months, which you know has to be playing a big part in his current match situation.

 

Grand Slam: TNT is going for the boston crab! Great strategy! Keeping Strangler on the mat is definitely the best way to pick up a pinfall over the big man. If he locks this on, this match could be over much quicker!

 

Strangler starts to sense his predicament, and starts thrashing, doing everything he can to break the grip that TNT has on him. TNT strains against Strangler’s resistance, and starts trying to turn Strangler over to complete the Boston crab. Strangler continues to fight it, and sends a wild boot straight into TNT’s kidney. Thompson, startled by the blow, weakens his grip, giving Strangler new motivation. He rears up, and digs both of his feet into TNT’s chest. The smaller man releases his hold on Strangler’s legs, and goes tumbling backwards, rolling about three feet. The crowd roars for Strangler breaking the hold as he starrts to get to his feet, looking relieved while TNT hops right back up to his feet.

 

Riley: I told you it was too early, Stevens!

 

Grand Slam: Well, at least TNT gave it a try, rather than flailing around like a fish on the bottom of boat in order to escape!

 

Riley: All right, no more Outdoor Network for you!

 

Strangler and TNT charge each other, their faces changing to masks of fury. Strangler extends his arm, and goes for a clothesline. Thompson sees the blow, and ducks underneath Strangler’s arm. TNT continues his path toward the ropes, and comes bouncing off, with his eyes locked on Strangler. TNT launches himself off the mat, and extends his arm, going for a clothesline of his own. However, Strangler manages to shield himself from the clothesline, and delivers a sharp kick to the stomach as TNT drops towards the mat. TNT lands on his feet and doubles over, giving Strangler an opportunity to apply a front facelock. TNT offers little resistance as Strangler quickly whirls and drops his massive elbow onto TNT’s head as he plants Thompson with the Lobotomy.

 

Grand Slam: Strangler just hit TNT with the Lobotomy! This could be a LOT of trouble for TNT!”

 

Strangler drops to the mat himself, and drapes his arm over TNT’s barely-moving shoulders. The referee drops into position, and starts the three count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

T…

 

 

Grand Slam: No! TNT gets the shoulder up, and this match continues!

 

Strangler hoists TNT to his feet and sends his boot flying into the ribs of TNT. Thompson barks out in pain, and rolls over on his side. Strangler sends another kick into TNT’s midsection, causing TNT to make a beeline for the ropes. Not about to let him escape, Strangler reaches down, and grabs ahold of TNT’s hair. He tugs TNT back into the center of the ring by his hair, drawing a huge roar of pain from TNT. The crowd responds with a mixture of cheers and boos for Strangler as TNT struggles to escape the hair pull. Strangler turns Thompson around, and starts to pick TNT up. TNT looks around, and in desperation puts his right foot behind Strangler’s, and shoves as hard as he can on Strangler’s right knee. Strangler stumbles backwards, then hits Thompson’s foot. Strangler teeters in midair for a moment, waving his arms as he tries to keep his balance, then goes crashing to the mat like an oak tree crashing to the forest floor.

 

Grand Slam: And TNT has bought himself some time! Can he capitalize on Strangler being down?”

 

Riley: Unless TNT can grow a few inches during the time Strangler’s on the mat, I don’t like his chances!”

 

Strangler pulls himself up by the ropes, and stumbles to his feet at the same time Thompson gets up. Strangler charges TNT, but gets nothing but air as he easily dodges the big man. Before TNT can turn, Thompson grabs the back of Strangler’s head, and drops to the mat, slamming the back of Strangler’s cranium to the mat with the inverted DDT. Strangler lies on the mat at Thompson quickly darts over for the attempted pin.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

THR…

 

 

Grand Slam: And Strangler is able to kick out! But if TNT can hit the Mushroom Cloud on Strangler, he’ll be out!

 

Riley: One has to wonder if TNT is capable of delivering the Mushroom Cloud to someone as big as Strangler. We know that TNT is a fairly strong individual, but Strangler is 6’9”, 303 pounds! I dunno if TNT can handle that.

 

Grand Slam: If the match continues like this, we’ll be finding out fairly soon.

 

TNT starts to hop up, but decides against it, and stays on the mat. He grabs ahold of Strangler’s head, and quickly smashes it into the mat, causing Strangler to moan in pain. TNT reaches for Strangler’s arm, and pulls him up to his feet. Strangler, still dazed from the blows to the head, is almost completely out of it. He moans as TNT torques his arm before being whipped toward the ropes. TNT sets himself for Strangler’s return. Strangler comes flying back off the ropes, and runs straight into Thompson’s outstretched arms. Strangler tries to free himself, but TNT quickly applies a front facelock before drilling Strangler with a hard snap suplex. Strangler drops to the mat, and TNT quickly hops onto his chest. He begins to slam his fists into Strangler’s face, drilling Strangler again and again with hard rights and lefts.

 

Grand Slam: TNT is laying into Strangler! I don’t know if Strangler even knows what’s happening right now, as he seems totally out of it!

 

The fans chant along, shouting out a new number after every punch. FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT!

 

Riley: Damn, Stevens! Look at this blatant cheating by TNT! Those are closed fists!

 

Grand Slam: So?

 

Riley: Well….that’s not nice!

 

Finally, TNT winds up, and as the fans go wild, smashes his fist straight into Strangler’s mug. TNT slips off of Strangler, and hooks Strangler’s leg, cueing the referee, and the entire crowd, to begin the three count.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

THRE…

 

“No! Strangler kicks out again! This match is still going somehow!”

 

The fans respond with a mixture of cheers and boos, and TNT gets up with an incredulous look on his face. He asks Chioda something inaudibly, and then continues onward. He reaches down for Strangler, but instead gets pulled down to the mat, as Strangler grabs ahold of the waistband of his pants. Strangler rolls TNT up, and starts barking at the ref to count. Chioda, out of position and surprised by the unexpected pin count, takes a second or two to drop into position, and then begins the count.

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!

 

 

Grand Slam: And TNT somehow managed to escape!

 

Riley: After Choida took forever to count! Why wouldn’t he count FAST for once so we could get onto the Tom Flesher match?

 

Strangler gets to his feet surprisingly quickly, and immediately begins snapping at Chioda, who is startled by the intensity of Strangler’s argument. Strangler starts screaming at the referee, shouting “THREE, DAMMIT! THREE!” Chioda backs away, looking startled. Suddenly, the fans go bezerk, and a hand closes around Strangler’s fist from behind. Strangler whirls around, and gets met with a stiff right to the jaw by TNT. Strangler’s eyes open wide as he lurches backwards, taken by surprise. Thompson uses the time to his advantage, and sends his boot flashing into Strangler’s gut. Strangler doubles over, and TNT ducks behind Strangler, locking on a rear waistlock. TNT sets himself, then grunts as he lifts Strangler with all the force he can muster. Strangler goes lifting off the canvas slowly, then goes crashing to the mat as TNT manages to drop Strangler to the canvas below. The crowd roars for TNT’s feat of strength as both men lie motionless on the canvas.

 

Grand Slam: What a maneuver by TNT! I didn’t think he could lift someone as big as Strangler that convincingly!

 

Riley: Too bad he looks like he took just as much damage as Strangler! Neither man is moving right now!

 

Grand Slam: TNT is starting to move! It looks like he’s going for the cover!

 

TNT slowly crawls toward Strangler, who lies just a few feet away. The crowd seems firmly behind TNT as Thompson draws even closer. Chioda drops to his knees, anticipating the cover. TNT finally reaches Strangler and drapes his arm over TBS as Chioda begins the count.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

Grand Slam: NO! Strangler kicked out!

 

Riley: You have to hook the leg with someone as durable and big as Strangler! It takes a LOT to put him down! And, against my strong complaints, this match continues!

 

Strangler starts to lurch to his feet, obviously drained from the non-stop assault by TNT. TNT gets to his feet, a look of disappointment on his face. However, the look quickly disappears as he turns to the crowd. He screams out, “KABOOM!!!!!!!” as the fans explode into cheers, knowing what’s coming. Strangler continues to crawl up as TNT looks at the rising Strangler, and waves him on, waiting for TBS to get to his feet.

 

Riley: Looks like TNT is about to do what I wish I could do: Administer some swift justice to Strangler in the form of a Mushroom Cloud! I wish I could just drill both of them right now…

 

Grand Slam: And that’s another superb out-of-context quote by Bobby Riley, folks!

 

TBS struggles into a standing position and turns, only to be met with a sharp kick to the gut by TNT. Strangler doubles over, and TNT quickly moves into position, setting Strangler up for the Mushroom Cloud. The crowd cheers on TNT, anticipating the end of the match. TNT wraps his arms around TBS’ waist and begins to hoist Strangler up. However, Strangler remains firmly glued to the ground in front of him. TNT tries again as the crowd murmurs, but Strangler refuses to budge from the ground. Strangler then strains upward himself, sending TNT flying over his head to the canvas. The crowd responds in mixed fashion once again as TNT quickly pops up, surprised by the reversal. TNT charges at Strangler, but Strangler sidesteps the clothesline and quickly picks TNT up into a gorilla press slam position. The crowd responds with cheers, although some boos can be heard, as Strangler readies TNT for the Boston Massacre. As TNT tries to escape, TBS drops TNT into position before nailing Thompson to the canvas with the Massacre. TNT drops silently to the canvas as Strangler reaches over and covers TNT easily.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

 

Funyon: Your winner via pinfall, the BOSTON STRRRRRANGLER!

 

Grand Slam: And this match ends with Strangler, who seemed to bear the brunt of the boos in this matchup, getting the Massacre on TNT to finish him off.

 

Riley: A horrible match between two horrible people.

 

Grand Slam: Take your head out of King and Tom’s asses for a second and recognize the fact that these two men just put on a great performance.

 

Riley: How can I have my head up two people’s asses at the same time?

 

Grand Slam: That’s not the point. What I meant is that…

 

Riley: It’s a physical impossibility! Seriously, what were you thinking?

 

Grand Slam: Just never mind, OK? We’ll be back in a little, where we have Tom Flesher…

 

Riley: Go TOM!

 

Grand Slam: …vs. Jay Dawg, as well as Neilsen of the Jungle…

 

Riley: BOO!!!!!

 

Grand Slam: …taking on LDP! Don’t touch that dial, folks!

[Guest Suicide King]

“This next contest is scheduled for one fall and is to determine the number one contender to the Intercontinental Television Championship,” roars Funyon into the microphone as the crowd awaits the next contest with baited breath. “This will be a triple threat match scheduled for one fall.”

 

Introducing first...

 

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP!

 

JUSTICE!

 

RULE!

 

Fueled by their hatred, the capacity crowd immediately begins to let loose a series of boos as they watch the SmarkTron display the sights of the many victories of Justice and Rule. Defeating such tag teams as Wild and Dangerous and Deja Vu has done nothing to make the crowd any more appreciative of their skills. But regardless, Ejiro Fasaki and Judge William Hearford still make their presence known as they stride through the curtain to the sounds of Rage Against the Machine. Wearing white football jerseys this time with their respective names on the backs, Justice and Rule calmly make their way inside the ring.

 

“Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by his tag team partner, Judge William Hearford, he is one half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions Justice and Rule. Hailing from Sarasota, Florida he weighs in at 188 pounds ... EEEEEEEEJIRO FASAKI.”

 

Pulling the jersey up and over his head as The Judge looks on Ejiro flexes his muscles in preparation for what is sure to be a difficult contest facing off against two members of the newly formed Catch-22. Thankfully for him, he’s brought along some back up in the form of the dangerous Hearford, which sure hasn’t gone unnoticed by our announce team.

 

Stevens said, “Now I will have to question what exactly Hearford thinks he is doing here right now. He’s already had his match for the night.”

 

Bobby Riley of course refuses to let that slide, “Well Stevens, his tag team partner is about to get double teamed by a couple of young bucks. Two guys that sure as hell are going to want to weaken the tag team champions for when Wild and Dangerous try to get their shot at those straps.”

 

TING! TING! TING! TING!

 

The four hot cymbals hit the air as the crowd erupts to the sound of Dark Tranquility plays to the sound of “Damage Done.” Stepping through the apron the former SWF US Champion, Mike Van Siclen struts into the arena! Extending his arms into a form of a crucifix, “The Spectacle” enjoys the beat of his music as he comes to the ring. Sliding into the ring, Siclen tosses aside his jacket as he hops up to the middle ropes and yells out to the crowd before quickly hopping down to the canvas and sending a nasty eye at the huddled members of Justice and Rule.

 

“Weighing in tonight at 236 pounds from Harrison, Illinois, he is a member of Catch-22. Please welcome, ‘THE SPECTACULAR’ MIKE VAN SICLENNNNNNNNNN!”

 

"I'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon...."

 

BOOOOOOOOM!

 

An explosion of red fireworks heralds the entrance of the man called El Scorcho. Stepping through the fiery smoke comes out Mr. Beezel to the delight of the crowd who is only too happy to sing along with the masked competitor.

 

“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!”

 

Tearing down the aisle, Beezel rolls into the ring and pops up to his feet with his hands up high as the crowd continues to applaud away at the unknown soldier. Happy with his reception Beezel strides over to clasp hands with his stable mate for just a moment as Hearford and Fasaki look on with malicious intent. Looking over at Justice and Rule, Beezel waves good bye to The Judge as he grumpily heads to the arena floor where he’ll be stationed for this match.

 

“Weighing in tonight at 205 pounds and hailing from Phoenix, Arizona. He is also a member of Catch-22 and is the masked marauder known as BEEEEEEEEEEZEL!”

 

Stepping into the center of the ring, referee Matthew Kivell calls loudly to the timekeeper to ring the bell and get this contest underway.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Instantly at the sound of the bell, Mike Van Siclen and Beezel immediately lunge for their other opponent. But before they can even get their hands on Ejiro Fasaki, the tag team champion throws himself down to the mat and rolls all the way out of the ring and to the floor. Smiling broadly as he stands next to The Judge, Fasaki shrugs at both of his opponents as Riley laughs a little loudly into his microphone.

 

“Ha! Ha! Brilliant strategy employed there by Ejiro Fasaki. He knew that Van Siclen and Beezel were going to be coming right at him at the start of the match. I bet he wants Catch-22 to test their newly formed bond against each other.”

 

Stevens replies bitterly, “Well if Ejiro wants to stay on the floor all match long, I say let him stay down there. Mr. B and The Spectacle don’t need to touch him for one of them to win the match anyway. It’s not a handicapped match after all.”

 

Looking at each other as the crowd buzzes for some action, Beezel and Van Siclen look each other in the eyes for a moment before silently assenting to giving the crowd some sort of show. Locking together into a collar-and-elbow, the members of Catch-22 latch together for a moment before the larger Van Siclen muscles Beezel’s back against the ropes. Quickly snagging Mr. B by the arm, Van Siclen tosses his usual partner against the ropes and takes a swing with a clothesline. But the smaller, quicker man rolls strait on underneath the flying arm and pops with a standing dropkick that sends Mike to the mat with a glancing dropkick. Hopping against the ropes as Van Siclen rolls up to his feet, Beezel takes to the air for a flying sidekick only to find himself plucked out of the air for a mere second before getting heaved overhead with an improvised suplex from “The Spectacular” Mike Van Siclen. Watching on from their ringside seats on the floor, Ejiro Fasaki and The Judge give their own rendition of the Tom Flesher golf clap as Catch-22 continues to go at it.

 

“Those two weasels really do make me sick,” registers Stevens, “Fasaki is supposed to be in this match as well. But all he’s down so far is just camp out of the floor with his big scout leader buddy.”

 

“And that’s called smarts! Why should Fasaki get into the ring with two guys that are sure to double team him the moment he gets in there? He’s biding his time, and once he gets his chance, he’s going to teach these two punks something in the Magnificent Seven style!”

 

But as Ejiro goes over his lesson plan, Van Siclen and Beezel continue to battle away inside the ring. Pulling Mr. B to the ropes yet again, “The Spectacle” sends Beezel into the ropes with a whip. Catching Beezel on the rebound, Van Siclen hoists his part time tag team partner up to his shoulder with a tilt-a-whirl looking to spike him into the mat with a powerbomb. But rather than taking such a move, Beezel instead looks Van Siclen’s head tightly with his legs before he snaps Mike into the mat with a stunning frankensteiner head scissors! Stepping up to his feet as Van Siclen struggles to shake the cobwebs, Beezel heads to the ropes yet again only to find his feet pulled out from underneath him!

 

Stevens calls out loudly, “Ejiro Fasaki just tripped Beezel from the floor! The first thing that creep does in the match is an underhanded cheap shot. And I have wonder why that even surprises me anymore?”

 

“My theory is that you are as dumb as a box of rocks,” replies Riley with a chuckle as Ejiro hops up to the ring apron and turns to the crowd with a hardy laugh that causes everyone except The Judge just a little bit of nausea.

 

But Van Siclen soon adds a little Mylanta to the equation as he quickly makes a move to avenge his fallen partner in Catch-22. Fluidly hopping up to the middle rope as Ejiro slowly turns back towards the ring, Van Siclen propels his body toward Ejiro and catches the arrogant ringmaster across the chest with a springboard dropkick! Collapsing back to the arena floor from whence he came, Ejiro falls to the feet of his partner. Grabbing his hair in frustration, Hearford reaches down and pulls his stunned partner up to his feet. But taking his eye off the ball is never a good strategy as Mike Van Siclen flies over the top rope and collides with both men with a slingshot plancha! Reaching his feet once again, Van Siclen calls out to the people as they respond with sugary delight. But not being one to hog all the glory, Van Siclen pulls Ejiro Fasaki up to his wobbly feet as Judge Hearford crawls away from the pile up. From inside the ring a flying twisting Beezel soars over the top rope and flattens Fasaki against the mat with a running senton over the top rope!

 

“What a move!” shouts an excited Mark Stevens, “Beezel, whoever he really is, sure as heck can come flying down on you from any angle that you can think of.”

 

“Oh I know exactly who El Scorcho is,” replies Riley. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

 

“You know?” replies Stevens with a certain degree of apprehension.

 

“Of course! No breasts and a lousy ass ... it just has to be Annie Eclectic.”

 

Together as a unit for the time being, Beezel and Van Siclen toss Ejiro Fasaki into the ring as Judge Hearford leads a solitary protest against such deplorable actions. Together inside the ring, Beezel and Van Siclen press Ejiro into a corner and proceed to lay into the smallest man in the ring with a series of stomps and (in Beezel’s case) some wicked slicing kicks across the chest that resound through out the arena.

 

WHAP!

 

STOMP!

 

WHAP!

 

STOMP!

 

Pulling Ejiro out of the corner, Van Siclen and Beezel take up position behind the scattered antagonist before lifting him high into the air in position for a double backdrop suplex. But instead of falling backward with the man, the members of Catch-22 drive downward and crush his spine with a double atomic drop. Releasing Fasaki and allowing Beezel a solo shot, Van Siclen steps away from the action as Beezel continues to hold onto the same position and lifts Ejiro back high into the air. Shifting his grip ever so slightly, Beezel spikes Ejiro’s head right into the canvas with a variation of his Fire Thunder powerbomb! Impacting the canvas with the back of his head, Ejiro fades in and out of consciousness as Mr. B folds up tightly over his shoulders.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

NOOOOOOOO! Van Siclen makes the save!

 

“Mike just pushed over the pile!” shouts Stevens with some confusion.

 

“What did you expect Stevens? There’s a shot at Danny Williams and his ICTV Title on the line here tonight and Catch-22 can not just share that shot no matter how much of a love in they have going on backstage. They better just stop trying to play favorites against Fasaki and just treat everyone in the ring like the enemies they are.”

 

Leaving the convulsing Fasaki stammered on the mat, Beezel and Mike go eye-to-eye for a moment trying to come to some sort of conclusion regarding their situation. Nodding to each other having reached some sort of silent agreement, Mr. B and Van Siclen square off as Beezel’s hand collides with the side of Mike’s head with a startling snap. Flicking out another right hand, El Scorcho staggers Mike back on his heels for just a second before “The Spectacle” takes him down to the canvas with a quick drop toehold. Floating over his friend’s back, Van Siclen hooks Beezel around the body and rolls over with an Oklahoma roll. Diving to the mat, Kivell quickly counts away as Beezel struggles away to escape.

 

ONE!

 

TWONNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Not nearly beaten down enough to stay caught in even such a well-executed pinning combination, Beezel easily frees his shoulders from the canvas. Quickly getting back up to his feet, Beezel hooks Mike around the head before spinning about and pulling his comrade to the mat with an amateur leg hook takedown. With both men down, Beezel takes a ankle pick and begins to tear away at the joint as Mike battles to turn out of the hold. Twisting off his stomach to release most of the pressure, Van Siclen kicks out towards Beezel and catches him in the chin with the heel of his boot, knocking his ankle free of the hold.

 

“And now both members of Catch-22 have managed to escape a match ending situation from each other,” notes Stevens, “First Beezel gets loose from a roll up and now, Van Siclen escapes the ankle lock. You can really tell that these men are going to be doing all they can to take this match home.”

 

“You must be JOKING!” shouts Riley with an indignant air, “A roll up? An ankle lock? They dropped poor Ejiro on the back of his head! You can’t tell me that they are doing all they can to beat each other when they pull out such basic holds with no eye towards strategy!”

 

But regardless, Mike continues to go after Beezel as he kicks his partner across the chest with his shin creating a popping noise that causes the crowd to gasp the air. With Mr. B temporarily staggered, Siclen pulls Beezel into the ropes and sends him flying across the ring and into a corner pad. Rushing toward his friend, Van Siclen is not prepared as Beezel almost casually grabs the top rope as he comes into the buckle and uses them to propel his body over the top of his charging adversary. Rolling away from Mike and getting to the other side of the ring, Beezel hops right up to the middle rope as Van Siclen follows behind. Leaping off the buckle, Beezel turns as he collides with a cross body block. But he finds himself caught once again in the hands of “The Spectacle” and mashed into the canvas with a stunning powerslam! Hooking the legs deeply, Van Siclen holds on for what he hopes will be the final count down.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

EJIRO MAKES THE SAVE!

 

Having finally recovered from that awesome powerbomb, Fasaki gets his body back into the action by diving across Mike’s back with a forearm that breaks the cover. Pulling the stunned Van Siclen off the canvas, Ejiro pushes Mike right between the middle ropes and to the floor so Ejiro might get a chance to level some punishment down on El Scorcho himself. Hammering down on Beezel with a series of short elbows to the back of the head, Ejiro softens Beezel up enough to sling him into the ropes and send him down to the canvas with a hard elbow across the face. Quickly trying to make something out of this rally, Fasaki holds off for the punch drunk Mr. B to stumble up to his feet for just a second before snapping him back to the mat with an enziguri! Maneuvering on top of Beezel, Ejiro hooks the former Hardcore Gamers Champion up in a Fujiwara and immediately calls for the official to check in for the submission.

 

“Ejiro cranks away... wait a minute! What’s Hearford doing!” shouts Mark Stevens as the crowd gasps out in horror.

 

Using the referee’s attention on the submission hold as a distraction, The Judge finally makes his well thought out move to give his team that little bit of extra help. Snatching Van Siclen off the floor, William Hearford jerks “The Spectacle” up and onto his shoulder in position for a powerslam. But instead of mashing him into the floor, Hearford rushes forward and crams Van Siclen into the ring post shoulder first!

 

BOOM!

 

Allowing Mike to fall right out of his grip, Hearford laughs evilly as Van Siclen struggles against the damage done to his shoulder. Picking the wounded warrior off the cold concrete, Hearford sends Mike back into the ring and to the hungry animal that is Ejiro Fasaki. Coming around the ring, Hearford gives Ejiro the high sign that his job has been completed. Releasing the struggling Beezel from the armbar, Ejiro uses the arm to send Mr. B out of the ring and to the waiting hands of Judge Hearford.

 

“What a sound strategy! What brilliance! What a symphony of life!” orgasms Riley as Stevens looks at him with disgust. “Knowing that the referee is going to have to look in closely on any submission holds, Judge Hearford can do whatever he wants outside of the ring to the other goober. What a flawless plan! I’ll bet the smartest man in all the world Tom Flesher came up with it!”

 

Taking the wounded wing of Mike Van Siclen, Ejiro drags “The Spectacle” out to the center of the ring before cinching him in deeply with a cross armbreaker that causes the amazing athlete to shout out in searing pain. Using his entire body to try and hyper extend the elbow, Ejiro cranks away with sadistic glee as he keeps flashing his line of vision from the referee, to his victim, and finally to the illegal activities that are going on outside the ring. And what a bunch of illegal activities they are.

 

CRASH!

 

Slamming into the ringside steps off a whip, Beezel rubs the top of his masked head as William Hearford nearly cackles from the damage he’s managed to do without the referee’s knowledge. Placing his boot against Beezel’s throat, The Judge holds his partner’s opponent in place as Ejiro continues to crank away against Mike Van Siclen’s arm. But thrashing against the hold and the pain that it is causing him, Van Siclen still manages to toss a leg underneath the bottom rope in order to force the referee to step in and order the break. Seeing this from the outside, The Judge steps right off of Beezel to keep from being discovered. But Beezel is still unable to provide any immediate assistance to his stable mate as Ejiro continues his assault on Mike’s shoulder. Dragging Van Siclen up to his feet, Ejiro quickly maneuvers the arm of his opponent behind his back before sending the 235-pounder’s back into the mat with an armbar slam.

 

“Now all Hearford has to do is keep Beezel busy on the outside and Ejiro Fasaki will be able to take Van Siclen apart at the shoulder,” rants Bobby Riley to Stevens’ disgust.

 

“Look Riley, maybe I’m old fashioned. But in my understanding, a triple threat match is supposed to be three men going at it, not four! The fact that Justice and Rule can manipulate the rules sure as heck is not something to be especially proud of in my estimation.”

 

But regardless of Stevens’ condemnation, Justice and Rule are proud of their skill at manipulating the rules of law. And they continue with that demonstration as Ejiro drives a knee down across the hammer locked shoulder that is trapped underneath Mike’s body. Grinding away with the knee, Ejiro looks on with glee as the referee checks in closely on Van Siclen to see if he will be willing to continue this battle. And, of course, as Matthew Kivell checks for the submission The Judge goes back to attacking Beezel without any pangs of guilt. Punching the masked man across the bridge of the nose, Hearford sends Mr. B’s back against the ringside stairs once again. Smiling broadly at his intended target, Hearford looks to put Beezel away once and for all. Charging forward, Hearford sends a rushing knee aimed right at Beezel’s face as he lays against the steps!

 

CRASH!

 

“HE MISSED!” shouts Stevens over the roar of the crowd as Hearford goes flying right over the top of the steps from the impact!

 

Limping up to his feet, but putting absolutely no weight against the knee Hearford looks around for any sign of his intended victim. But Beezel is sure as hell not hiding as he uses the steps as a springboard to knock The Judge away with a sense splitting knee to the head, shining wizard style!

 

“Dousing the flames!” shouts Stevens as Beezel sends a nearly unconscious Judge William Hearford staggering up the ramp way before the old man collapses right on his face!

 

Leaving The Judge where he landed, Beezel darts into the ring to lend his friend a hand! Pulling Ejiro off of Van Siclen’s shoulder, Beezel stands the Magnificent Seven member up strait before rocking him back on his heels with a hard right jab across the jaw. Another strike sends Ejiro down to the mat for nary a second before Fasaki scrambles back up to his feet again. Turning on a pivot, Beezel sends Fasaki right back to the mat as Mr. B snaps off a hard spin kick to the side of the face. Not ready to let the momentum falter just yet, Beezel continues to try and raise the tempo and give Van Siclen a chance to recover from his shoulder injury. Watching carefully for any sneak attack, Beezel still presses forward and sends Fasaki across the ring. Or so he thinks as Fasaki stops on a dime and reverses the toss, sending El Scorcho into the ropes instead. But Beezel still has plenty of his wits about him as he clearly shows off as he hurdles up to the middle rope before spring boarding right back at Fasaki and knocking him to the mat with a dropkick! Hauling the stunned Ejiro up, Beezel sneaks in behind and snatches his opponent up with a full nelson. Spinning so his back is the to the center of the ring, Beezel arches back and hurls Fasaki overhead with a picture perfect dragon suplex! Holding onto the bridge, Beezel holds on tightly as he hopes to end this match before Hearford can stick his nose back into the match.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREENNNOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“Mike Van Siclen made the save!” yells Stevens, “I am amazed that he even had the energy, much less the desire to keep this match going.”

 

“Well, if I know Van Siclen, and I don’t,” replies Riley. “He does not want to go through all that pain and agony and then not even have a chance for revenge. Plus, he still wants to get a shot against ICTV Champion Danny Williams. I mean, who wouldn’t he fight to get that shot?”

 

Getting to his feet, Beezel looks at the panting Van Siclen with a tilted head, momentarily questioning what his stable mate is trying to accomplish. But reading Van Siclen’s stance quickly lets Mr. B know exactly what “The Spectacle” is trying to accomplish. Both men want that chance at Danny Williams and would battle against anyone within the confines of the rules to reach that goal. Striking first, Van Siclen chops down across Beezel’s chest with a hard chop across the pecks that backs Beezel against the ropes with a hard blow. Grabbing Beezel by an arm, Van Siclen starts a whip but quickly stops the whip in order to wrap Beezel’s arm around his head before dropping down with the Blackjack neckbreaker!

 

WHAM!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRNOOOOOOKICKOUT!

 

With Beezel down but still kicking, Van Siclen growls internally for just a moment and allows Beezel the opportunity to roll to the relative safety of the ropes. Turning his attention back to his other opponent, Van Siclen pulls the staggered Ejiro Fasaki off the mat and sinks his head down into a tight fitting leglock. Grabbing Fasaki about the body, “The Spectacle” raises Ejiro up on high and drops Fasaki flush against the canvas with a loose powerbomb drop. Looking out to the crowd for a moment, Van Siclen lifts his arms out to his sides before making the long climb all the way up to the top turnbuckle.

 

“No!” calls out Stevens, “The Judge is there!”

 

Immediately climbing up to the apron to stop the potential squashing of his partner, The Judge roars out in protest as he pulls the referee’s attention away from the ring. But that distraction does not last long before Van Siclen’s flying form comes flying into Hearford’s face with a rolling body attack that sends both men to the floor!

 

“What a move!” yells ‘Grand Slam’ “but Mike just took himself out of the action as well! This match is up for the taking!”

 

Slamming into each other the moment they find their feet, Ejiro and Beezel battle back and forth with hard right hands. But it is Fasaki that gets the initial advantage as he sneaks a quick knee into the breadbasket of the masked man. Hooking Mr. B in position for a suplex, Fasaki jerks Beezel high into the air for just a moment before Beezel comes sliding down the back to escape the hold. Pushing Ejiro forward into the ropes, Beezel leaps high into the air and takes the rebounding Magnificent Seven member down to the mat with a stunner frankensteiner head scissors! Floating over the top, Beezel hooks the far leg as Kivell counts away...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREENOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Ejiro just barely kicks away in time to escape the three, but Beezel is not to be delayed in taking advantage as he jerks right in behind Fasaki and once again locks in a text book full nelson before ripping backward...

 

“DRAGOOOOOON SUPLEXXXXXX!”

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Refusing to lose, Ejiro arches out once again just a hair away from losing this contest. But he provides no resistance as Beezel once more hauls him up to his feet and sets up for another powerbomb! Lifting Ejiro high up to his shoulders, Beezel pauses for a mere second before jamming Fasaki strait down on the top of his head!

 

BOOOM!

 

“FIRE THUNDAHHHHHH BOOOOOOOOOOMB!”

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“It’s over!”

 

“The winner of this contest and the NEW number one contender to ICTV Championship... BEEEEEEEEEEEZELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!”

 

Releasing Ejiro from the cradle, Beezel raises a hand high into the air with the assistance of the official. Battered and beaten, the tag team champion does nothing but lie on the canvas as The Judge and Van Siclen rise up and slide into the ring from the floor. Noticing a severe lack of backup, Hearford grabs onto Fasaki’s limp body and pulls the unconscious grappler out of the ring and the relative safety of the floor as Van Siclen stares a hole right into his leader’s masked face.

 

“Come on Van Siclen,” routes Riley, “That masked moron just cost you a shot at a title belt. Are you going to just let him get away with it! Hit him with a brick!”

 

But before any bricks can be brought to the ring, Van Siclen shows his guts by extending a hand to the victor in this contest. Looking at the hand for just a moment with a tilted head, Beezel returns the show of appreciation before pulling Mike in close for a hug and then lifting his partner’s hand high into the air.

 

“Come on!” shouts Riley.

 

“Sorry Riley, but it looks as though Catch-22 is still going strong right now. Not only have they shown some unity under this hard test, but they’ve also delivered a heck of a message to Ejiro Fasaki and the Magnificent Seven tonight. Catch-22 is here to fight.”

 

“God damn it.”

 

“We’ll be right back fans... don’t you dare... go away.”

[Guest Suicide King]

The camera returns to the sold out Philips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia. The crowd cheers loud as the camera returns to life, swinging and swaying through the audience as they hold up the signs to make them famous for .5 seconds. “Flesher fears the Maniac!” and “The M7 will crumble due to Flesher!” are the features of the upcoming segment. The camera finally settles the screen for in front of the announce table including Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley.

 

Stevens: “Welcome back to Smarkdown! What a show we have for you! Upcoming is what could be the highlight of the night as Jamie Drazon, the Hardcore Maniac goes up against the Superior One Tom Flesher in a non title match.”

 

Riley: “The Superior SWF World Heavyweight Champion Tom Flesher! Who will mangle Jay Dawg and cripple him into submission!”

 

Stevens: “Flesher’s resilience might be catching up with him. He’s going up against one of the federation’s most dangerous and psychotic competitors, one has to wonder if he can keep lasting this out.”

 

Keeping the conversation a short one, the lights go out. Moments later, a dazzling displays of fireworks lights up over the rafters, slowly carrying toward the entrance ramp. The finale of the pyro display is at the top of the entrance ramp, when two gigantic fireballs explode leaving a smoky entrance ramp.

 

"THIS

 

 

IS

 

 

MAH

 

 

HOUSE!!"

 

Drazon’s voice echoes throughout the arena, signalling the start of Rammstein's 'Du Haste' to play without the lyrics. The heavy beats thunder 360 degrees around the arena, sinking fully into the minds of the crowd. Jamie Drazon steps through the curtains, his head down and the bangs of his hair dangling over his face. He walks to the top of the ramp, slowly raising his head to look inside the empty ring, then scans out to the crowd. He grins as he lowers his head again, although the smile without good intentions is now plastered on his face.

 

Funyon: “The following non title match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first… he hails from Vancouver, British Columbia! He stands at Six feet Four inches and weighs in at 243 pounds! The Hardcore Maniac… JAMIE ‘JAY DAWG’ DRAZON!!!”

 

Upon announcement JD hops onto the ring apron and calmly steps through the ropes. He lets his head remain low as he stretches his neck, arm and legs. The fans give him a welcome of cheers more then boos, probably because he’s been assigned to take down the Superior One tonight.

 

Stevens: “There he is! Jamie Drazon should take quite the fight to Tom Flesher tonight!”

 

Riley: “No you see I disagree. For Drazon dropped the ICTV title to Danny Williams after getting knocked out… well look who made Danny Williams tap just last week. Tom Flesher. You see what he is going to do is, knock JD out into tap out oblivion!”

 

Stevens: “That makes no sense yet lots of sense at the sametime.”

 

Riley: “I know. I’m amazing.”

 

The SmarkTron goes white with the blue words "SUPERIORITY COMPLEX" "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN" and “WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION on it. Then, with an explosion of blue pyro, "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin bursts out over the loudspeaker.

 

Riley: “Whoo! Here comes the main event! The federation’s superior hero! My main squeee…..errr reason to watch TV!”

 

Tom Flesher emerges from the cloud of smoke, striding confidently to the ring with the world title slung over the shoulder of his warm up suit. While walking down to the ring, videos of his signature moves alternate in half-second clips with the words "SUPERIOR ONE," "AWARD-WINNING," "MAIN ATTRACTION" and "MAGNIFICENT SEVEN." Flesher looks over to JD, a little bit of fear behind his serene face. Standing by the ropes near the announce table, JD looks directly down at Flesher, his fists clenched to his sides and the hair dangling over his face, covering his eyes if they are even open. Flesher enters the ring and poses in the center head bobbing in time with the music, until the symphonic hook at 50 seconds in, which cues a machinegun-like burst of blue and white pyro from each corner. Flesher punctuates the pyro by throwing his arms into the air, getting an extra bit of heat before handing Funyon the Index Card of Superiority.

 

Funyon: “I am told to reward the successful. If that is the case, then JD shall be rewarded in making Frost walk out before I did. Drazon we’ve been on the same side before, not quite tonight. How unfortunate for you, for now you have to feel the wrath of the Superior One as you jaunt down the King’s Road, only to be cut off by the leader of the path. Bow down Drazon, for the Superior One Tom Flesher might spare you.”

 

Flesher golf-claps for himself, ignoring the crowd's boos and the sudden look Drazon gives him. Flesher strips off his warmup suit, then folds it, sets it in the corner and goes through his cursory stretch before the bell rings.

 

DING DING DING

 

Stevens: “And it’s time!”

 

Flesher lightly dances around his corner, exercising his legs while keeping his eyes on JD. The hardcore maniac continues to stare at Flesher; hair still covering his eyes, his body remains still. As Flesher continues towards the centre of the ring, JD finally snaps his head up, his eyes closed as always; he steps to the centre of the ring. For a brief moment, their chests touch, but Flesher pulls away, winds up his right hand and thrusts it forward with a shotei… that is blocked! With his hand, JD clasps Flesher’s striking wrist, twists it to the side and shoves it straight down, then thrusts his right hand forward into Flesher’s chest with a shotei! The fans pop loud as Drazon uses Flesher’s signature strike, and Flesher stumbles back a step, rubbing his solar plexus and catching his wind.

 

Stevens: “Flesher got nailed hard with his own strike! He’s gotta be feeling the effects of that one!”

 

Riley: “I think Drazon might have winded him a bit! He’ll pay dearly for that!”

 

Catching his breath quickly, Flesher passes a discontent stare toward his adversary for the evening. Frustrated, he steps forward, swinging hard with another shotei, but JD sidesteps the blow and fires a right fist into Flesher’s jaw. Flesher clutches his lower face, covering the cheek as JD bounces on his feet side to side in wait. Flesher dives forward, reaching for the leg, but a prepared JD hops backward, leaning down toward Flesher, he smashes his elbow down driving the point into Taamo’s forehead.

 

Stevens: “Drazon isn’t letting Tom grapple him!”

 

Riley: “Because he’d get outclassed and you know it!”

 

Stevens: “Oh don’t let him fool you, JD knows his way around the wrestling ring. You’re right though, he’s not quite as good as Tom Flesher…not quite… until he kicks him in the head and drops him on it a few times.”

 

Riley: “Bah!”

 

Tom drops to a knee, but JD pulls him back and throws him off the ropes. JD taps off his elbow, the fans give a pop for the elbow signal as Tom bounces off the ropes. JD swings his right arm hard, but Taamo ducks the decapitating blow. Flesher pauses in mid sprint, pivots around, but JD swings a reverse elbow, but Flesher ducks! The Superior One swings his right arm inward, taking advantage of the leverage and strikes JD hard in the chest with a shotei! JD feels winded, but absorbs the blow enough to stay firm on his feet. However the ¾ nelson Flesher applies, soon leads to JD being snapmared over the Superior One’s shoulder.

 

Stevens: “Nicely executed snapmare takedown by the World champ!”

 

Riley: “Of course! JD couldn’t defend, and now the god of the ring shall now destroy him!”

 

Flesher reaches down, wrapping his arm around the throat of JD. Before he can arch back with the Dragon sleeper, JD spins his head around so he is in a front facelock. JD starts to lift with a Northern Lights, but Flesher tightens the facelock, blocking the suplex and safely lowering him down to the mat. As Flesher tightens the grip, JD hooks his arm around the one over his throat, and spins out, applying a standard armbar from the counter. JD holds the fist with his left hand and spins it inward, then pulls it toward his head, ducking below is and wraps his arms his waist. Holding the tightened wrist out safely but secured, he lifts upward and flips Flesher into the mat with a Northern Lights suplex. Letting the bridge go, JD slides away, flipping his hair up while lying in the corner, then grins at Flesher.

 

Stevens: “Drazon one upped Flesher in a wrestling battle there!”

 

Riley: “Bah! Won’t happen often!”

 

Flesher passes a small glare at his grinning competitor, but shrugs it off. He stands up in an amateur stance, his head up fully. JD steps into him, and applies a headlock, but Flesher slithers out with ease and in behind with a belly to back waistlock. Wasting no time, Flesher pulls Drazon’s legs out from underneath of him. Flesher slides over, spinning his body around over top of Drazon’s and applies a front facelock. Drazon starts to stand, grunting in effects to the hold, but strong enough to stand.

 

Stevens: “Flesher desperately clinging onto that facelock.”

 

Gritting his teeth as JD stands, the Superior One begins to think, and tosses Drazon’s arms over his shoulders. A quick grab of the pants and a thrust of the legs, Drazon is hoisted deep into the air as the Superior One stalls the move. JD dangles in the air…3…5…dropped down with the stalling vertical suplex. Flesher floats over, holding Drazon’s wrists down with his hands and lateral presses with his chest.

 

One…

 

JD breaks his right arm free and slugs his forearm into the jaw of Flesher. He turns his head slightly from the blow, allowing JD to break his other arm free and grab him by the back of the head and drives his knee into Taamo’s forehead. Flesher releases his grip as JD sits up, his thumbs pressing hard into the pressure points under the jaw. Holding Flesher like that, JD thrusts his head forward, cracking it into the forehead of Flesher. Twitching his eyebrows, Flesher starts to drop to a knee but JD holds him up. Finally JD pushes him to the ropes with the pressure point submission still applied, and then releases the hold upon dropping Flesher on the ropes.

 

Stevens: “Owe! Owe! OWE!!! Jamie Drazon was holding Flesher in the air by the jaw bone!”

 

As Flesher catches his breath on the ropes, he doesn’t prepare for the right swinging for him.

 

CRACK

 

Flesher bounces back into the ropes as JD swings again.

 

CRACK

 

Drazon pulls his fist back farther and swings hard…

 

CRAACK

 

The blow knocks Flesher over the top rope and to the floor! Flesher rolls on the outside of the ring, rubbing his tender mandible. JD steps outside the ropes on the ring apron. JD drops off the apron and drives his elbow joint into the back of Flesher’s 18-inch neck, dropping him to his knees!

 

Stevens: “Ha! Jamie stuck it to Tom there!”

 

Drazon pulls Flesher to his feet and grabs a hold of his wrist, he shifts his hips to the steps and begins to throw, but at the end of arms reach, Flesher shifts his weight and rotates his hips to throw Drazon into the steel ringpost!

 

SMACK

 

JD stumbles away after impact, to the other side of the ring with Flesher slowly on pursuit. Regaining his sense, JD turns around to see Flesher in the middle of the ropes, except three feet away from them outside. JD charges straight for Flesher, things of sadism in his mind, he dives forward, but Flesher catches him in mid air and throws him over his head with a railgun suplex! Landing hard on the thick outside mat covering the concrete, JD sits up. He rolls the eyes in the back of his head and begins to stand, but changes his mind and decides to remain seated.

 

Stevens: “My lord! Tom Flesher just shifted the momentum greatly in his favour with that suplex!”

 

Riley: “You gotta be careful… Flesher can tear you apart! But not too careful because I love my Taamo… in a completely sports admiring way.”

 

Tom begins to walk toward Drazon, pulling him off of the ground and stands him beside the ring post. Drazon rests back on the steel, catching his breath, but not quite all there to clue in that Flesher tapping his thigh and pissing off the crowd is a bad thing for him. Flesher finishes rubbing his leg and charges for JD, throwing his leg high into the air…

 

CLANG!!!

 

Connecting hard with the steel pole with a Yakuza kick! The crowd cheers as Drazon saved his brains from being splattered on national television. Flesher shakes off his leg as JD makes it to his feet. He suddenly grabs Flesher by the waist, lifts him up and falls backward, hanging him over the guardrail with a stungun! Flesher gags and clutches his throat as Drazon kip ups to his feet. He lifts Flesher’s face up, getting a good look at his eyes, before grinning and flipping the double bird, then dropping Flesher hard on the outside with a stunner! The fans go nuts as Flesher stands up after the impact then simply collapses onto his chest.

 

Stevens: “Final Thought on the outside! Drazon just levelled the world champion!”

 

Drazon pulls Flesher in the air and rolls him back into the ring, assuming the ref counted, lets say he made it to seven or eight. Flesher rolls inside the ring, but JD pins him down into place.

 

One…

 

Two…

 

Flesher throws his shoulder off the mat. JD swings his forehead down, cracking it into the forehead of Flesher and knocking him still on the mat.

 

Stevens: “Owe! Everytime Flesher tries something, JD clocks him!”

 

Riley: “Dammit! Why are headbutts legal!!? Why god why!? I mean, Flesher shall recover soon enough.”

 

JD pulls Flesher to his feet, grabbing the wrist, he turns to the ropes, but Flesher palm strikes the elbow of JD’s arm with his free arm. Not connecting hard, it still allows Flesher to sidestep JD and pressure him down with a standing armbar. Adding JD a little help, Flesher sticks his foot in behind his knee, forcing JD down to one knee. Taking advantage he slips around and applies a rear waistlock. JD stands quickly and realizes he is in deep shit. Acting on instinct, he grabs the wrists, but it’s too late, as Flesher muscles him into the air and drops him hard on the back of his head with a German suplex! Drazon folds up as Flesher releases shortly after bridging. He makes a quick lateral press.

 

One…

 

Stevens: “Brilliantly executed German suplex! The count… 1…2…”

 

Two…

 

Drazon throws his shoulder up high.

 

Stevens: “Oh a close call but not quite enough to put the resilient Jay Dawg down!”

 

Riley: “Oh Drazon maybe tough, but if Flesher drops him on his head enough times, or stretches his limbs out, he’ll learn.”

 

Frowning that his work has to continue, Flesher pulls JD to his feet. A grab of the wrist, and Flesher Irish whips Drazon hard into the corner! Drazon bounces out of the corner a foot before Flesher sandwiches him back in with a charging avalanche! Flesher winds his hand up and thrusts it harsh into Drazon’s chest with a palmstrike! Flesher pulls JD out of the corner and scoops him onto his shoulder.

 

Stevens: “Flesher wanted that extra shot at JD!”

 

Riley: “Well wouldn’t you take one after all the shot he took!”

 

Flesher slams JD down into the turnbuckles, Drazon’s feet conveniently getting caught in the top turnbuckles and hanging down in the tree of woe. Flesher takes the chance to use his favorite Doc Marten and stomps it down into the hanging chest of JD. Flesher switches and stomps down into the face of JD. The ref quickly gets in Flesher’s face, but only gets an angered stare in return. Flesher once more stomps the chest of JD.

 

Stevens: “Flesher is getting angry! JD better beware of the nasty side of Flesher!”

 

Flesher sneaks one more stomp into the chest of JD before the ref gets in his face. As the ref turns to get JD out of his predicament, Flesher rolls outside of the ring, walks over to JD, wraps his hands around his throat and chin. Flesher pulls stiffly back on the Dragon Sleeper.

 

Riley: “Bow Down to Glory biatch!”

 

Flesher gets about three seconds of the hold in before the ref notices.

 

Ref: “That’s it Flesher, I warned you! One!”

 

Flesher keeps the hold on, grinning that the ref gave him some time.

 

“Two!”

 

“Three!”

 

“Four!”

 

Flesher begrudgingly releases the hold, then rolls inside of the ring. As the ref just about gets the legs of JD free, Flesher once more stomps him in the chest! The ref has no time to warn Flesher as he successfully pulls the legs of JD free. He pulls Drazon free and into a standing facelock. He throws his spare arm over his shoulder and hoists him high into the air, stalling 2…3…5…6… and spikes him down hard into the mat with a brainbuster! Flesher hooks the leg as he lies his back over Drazon’s chest, and cradles his neck with the other arm.

 

ONE…

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

THR…Drazon gets a shoulder up!

 

Stevens: “A close call off that stalling brainbuster!”

 

Riley: “Flesher is going to finish him!”

 

As Riley finishes his line, Flesher stands up and slits his thumb over his throat. The fans fire a quick course of boos but Flesher just waves to the fans in response. He peals JD up off the mat, but is rocked by a forearm to the ribcage! JD straightens out and fires a right hook right into the jaw of Flesher!

 

CRACK

 

Flesher steps into Drazon and applies a gutwrench waistlock, completely doubling him over, and doesn’t spot the foot coming in time.

 

CRACK

 

Stevens: “Drazon just kicked over his back again!”

 

Flesher staggers back, unprepared for the unusual counter. Drazon reaches for his wrist, but the quick Flesher grabs the wrist of JD in the process. He turns toward the corner, but before he can release JD, he shifts his hips and Drazon puts his entire weight into it as he fires Flesher across the ring…

 

CRASH

 

Rocking him sternum first into the turnbuckles! Flesher topples partially over the top rope but falls back into the ring, his knees currently on the second rope. Drazon sprints to the corner of Flesher, diving into the air and avalanche splashing Flesher into the corner! Upon impact, JD slides his feet onto the bottom rope and pulls Flesher’s up with him. Drazon grabs the back of Flesher’s head and slams him facefirst into the steel ringpost. Drazon side headlocks Flesher as he grapevines his leg, and pulls him off the turnbuckles only to slam him into the mat with a Russian leg sweep. Drazon scissors one leg and cradles the other with the package cover.

 

 

ONE…

 

 

Stevens: “That’s gotta take the fight out of you!”

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

Riley: “Come on, Taamo!”

 

 

THR…Kickout by Flesher! Drazon kip ups to his feet for the second time tonight, much to the delight of the crowd as he stalks over Flesher, urging him to get a little more vertical. Once Flesher reaches his knees, Drazon pulls him into a standing headscissors. Drazon wraps his arms firmly around Flesher’s waist as he heaves him up into the air, letting his head and toes remain vertical to the mat. Drazon leaps into the air before jackhammering Flesher hard onto his head with a sit out piledriver! Flesher’s head bounces off the mat and his entire body leaves the mat before he once more lands on his back. Drazon rolls over and hooks the leg.

 

Stevens: “Oh my god! What a piledriver! It’s over! That’s gotta be all!”

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE

 

NOO!!

 

Flesher barely inches his shoulder up off the mat! Drazon shakes his head in frustration. Finally he decides to pull Flesher up off the mat, but Flesher latches onto his leg. Hanging onto the leg, Flesher tries to sweep Drazon’s legs out, but the educated foot remains hopping safely for the time being. As the ref gets closer, Flesher steps into him, then drops down on Drazon and uppercuts straight north!

 

DING

 

Flesher facelocks the head of JD and cradles the leg as he rolls him up with a small package before the ref can question.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

Stevens: “No! It can’t end like this!”

 

Riley: “I think Flesher showed JD a thing about hardcore!”

 

Stevens: “This isn’t a hardcore match!”

 

Riley: “I know! Hee hee hee!”

 

THRE…NO

 

JD squirms out and rolls to his hands and knees, rubbing his family jewels. Flesher wastes no time in getting to his feet and plants his Doc Marten right into the back of Drazon’s head! He steps over the back of Drazon, and sits down, then reaches his right arm around the neck of JD. But Drazon puts his hand up to block the hold, getting it in Flesher’s bicep, he tries to push Flesher away. Flesher raises his knee and drops it into the back of JD. Absorbing the blow and feeling the spasms in his back muscle, JD still swings his feet toward the ropes, but not quite enough and Flesher drops another knee into his back. Drazon remains still as Flesher reaches around and applies the back mounted Dragon sleeper.

 

Stevens: “The Superior Stretch Beta! Will Jay Dawg tap out!?”

 

Riley: “In a matter of time, all will tap to the Superior One!”

 

Drazon stretches his leg toward the ropes. Gasping and gagging in the vicious sleeper hold, JD tries to remain conscious as Flesher jerks painfully back on his neck. Determined to be released, even if it’s the easy way, JD stretches his leg out as far as he can, the fans cheering loudly for the former ICTV champ. He reaches closer, closer, closer. However Flesher yanks back on the sleeper.

 

Stevens: “Drazon is oh so close to the ropes! Those could save him dearly!”

 

Riley: “If he can make it to them! So many people tap in seconds to the Superior Stretch Beta! Drazon will tap soon enough, maybe before the ropes!”

 

Feeling the pain in his neck, Drazon balls up his fists in rage. Flesher sees the hands out.

 

“That’s right you bitch, tap the fuck out.”

 

Drazon’s fists clench even tighter as Flesher yanks back on the hold. However at the same time, Drazon is able to drop his ankle over the bottom rope. The crowd cheers loudly as the ref tells Flesher to break the hold.

 

“Screw you, count me!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

Frustrated, the ref still does his job and counts the world champ.

 

“One!”

 

“BOOOO!!”

 

“Two!”

 

“OOOOO!!”

 

“Three!”

 

“OOOOO!!”

 

“Four!”

 

“OOOOO!!”

 

And Flesher finally releases the hold. The ref wants to warn the World champion but decides against it as he pulls Drazon to his feet. Drazon fires a fist at the Superior One, but Flesher blocks the blow, pulls JD and hoists him up with a side waistlock, then crushes him over his knee with a pendulem backbreaker. Flesher makes the lateral press cover.

 

ONE…

 

 

TWO…

 

 

THR…Kickout by JD! Flesher ignores the kickout and somersaults backward to Drazon’s feet, picking up his legs and shaping them into a four, he starts to turn over for the Superior Stretch.

 

Stevens: “Tom didn’t get the pin, but is going to try for the submission!”

 

Riley: “His back is hurting, Flesher’s got him!”

 

Stevens: “He’s not that hurt, look at him struggling…”

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere Drazon facelocks him and cradles his leg, rolling Flesher up with an inside cradle. The fans cheer as Flesher struggles and grunts…

 

 

ONE…

 

 

Flesher pushes at Drazon’s legs to release.

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

Stevens: “He’s got him!”

 

 

 

 

THREEEENOO!!!

 

Flesher barely powers his shoulder free. Flesher gets to his feet before Drazon and throws him into the corner. He follows quickly and sandwiches him with an avalanche splash. Too dazed to move on his own, Flesher elevates Drazon to the top rope and stands onto the second turnbuckle.

 

Stevens: “Oh no! I think Flesher is going for the Boilermaker!”

 

Riley: “Oh cheer up Stevens. You must watch. It’ll all be over soon.”

 

But just as Stevens says that, Drazon lifts his right foot up and plants it in Flesher’s chest and shoves him off the turnbuckle. Drazon hops off and boots Flesher in the gut, then pulls him into a standing headscissors.

 

Stevens: “Drazon countered, and I think he’s looking for some Revenge!”

 

Riley: “Get out Tom!”

 

As Drazon starts to cross Flesher’s arms over his throat, Flesher sandbags. JD releases the arms to pull Flesher back up, but as he does so, Flesher back body drops himself free. Drazon bounce off the mat but returns to his feet quickly, only to eat a shotei courtesy of the World Champ. Flesher pulls Drazon into a gutwrench waistlock and hauls up his opponent vertically into the air, only to pound him down into the ground with the sheer drop gutwrench suplex!

 

Stevens: “Oh my god! An Ego Buster! Will that do it!?”

 

Flesher rolls over for the cover, smother Drazon’s body and hooking the leg.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

Riley: “He’s out! Ring the bell!”

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

Stevens: “He’s got him!”

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENOO!!!

 

Drazon barely, just barely gets his shoulder up off the mat. Flesher grips his head in frustration as the ref reminds him it was only a two count.

 

Stevens: “Oh my god! Drazon still has some fight left in him!”

 

Riley: “Motherfucker! The man is a juggernaut, he just keeps coming back for more!”

 

Flesher pulls Drazon to his feet however Drazon suddenly fires a roundhouse kick into his ribs. Flesher doubles over, not expecting the painful strike. Drazon backs up a step as he taps his right leg, before thrusting it straight for the jaw of Flesher with the Thai Roundhouse kick! Flesher drops to his knees, once more grasping and holding his tender and bruised mandible. Drazon pats his leg much to the delight of the crowd as he bounces off the ropes.

 

Stevens: “The Thai roundhouse, this can only mean the Shining Black is coming!

 

Drazon ricochets off the ropes with mad momentum as he rushes for Flesher, shooting his left leg up for the springboard, but lands on nothing but air as Flesher rolls out of the way. Suddenly. Flesher dives low with his feet out first, heading to dropkick JD right in the knee, but Drazon dives in the air, doing the partial splits as a taunt before landing on his feet.

 

Stevens: “That’s how Flesher beat Williams! By clipping out his knee and forcing the submission with the Cross Lightning. Drazon has been doing some homework if he knew when to avoid that!”

 

Drazon pulls Flesher up and into a waistlock, but Flesher turns around into a waistlock of his own. However in a reminiscent move, he grapevines Drazon’s leg and applies a half nelson. However Drazon ducks free, holding onto Flesher’s arm and cradles his leg. Drazon lifts Flesher up into the air like an Angle Slam, however he spins a 180 degrees, and demolishes him into the mat with a Sheer Drop Backflip Slam!

 

Stevens: “Drazon modified that backflip slam into a sheer drop! I think Flesher is out!”

 

Drazon rolls over, hooking the leg and letting the air fall away from his face.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE!!!

 

DING DING DING

 

Stevens: “That did it! Drazon pinned the World Heavyweight Champion!”

 

The ref raises Drazon’s hand as he gets the pinfall victory over the Superior One.

 

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

 

Drazon raises his hand and wipes the sweat off his brow as he catches his breath. The fans continue to cheer as Flesher rolls out of the ring, grabbing his title and walking away up the ramp, pointing at Drazon and letting him know he’s still the man.

 

Stevens: “Flesher can’t be happy!”

 

Riley: “I don’t believe it! But it won’t happen twice! Drazon will pay!”

 

Stevens: “I think Drazon just evened up with Flesher. Last time Flesher tries the Joker’s Wild was on JD and it was successful, however JD didn’t forget, and he was ready for it! Flesher however, well the ending speaks for itself.”

 

Riley: “Oh shut up!”

 

Stevens: “A hell of a battle, where Drazon was able to get a well earned victory over the World Champ. However rest assured, if a title match is in the future, Flesher is going to be one meaner adversary.

 

Riley: “Shit yeahz! Drazon may have gotten the W, but who’s still the champ!? That’s right, you know it!”

 

Drazon snaps his hair back over his head and rolls his eyes into the back of his head.

 

Stevens: “Folks stay tuned! Neilsen versus Longdogger Pete is next!”

 

Commercial

[Guest Suicide King]

"...so then your mom says 'That was great Bobby, but next time could we try it without the cattle prod?"

 

"Grand Slam" Mark Stevens interrupts his broadcast partner. "Hey, we're back on the air! Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, folks. You're just in time for our exciting main event!"

 

"That's right, Stevens," replies color commentator Bobby Riley. "Neilsen of the Jungle will be taking on returning veteran Longdogger Pete -- in a first blood match! The only way to lose is to bleed!"

 

"It'll be a rigorous challenge for LDP," Stevens agrees, "who returned last week on Lockdown in a surprise loss to rookie Sean Atlas."

 

"And if the Hardcore King has anything to say about it," Riley continues, "that'll be just the first match of a new losing streak for the Doggah!"

 

Suddenly a rapper's shouting voice pierces through the speaker system of Atlanta, Georgia's Phillips Arena.

 

"OH, MY GOD! INCREDIBLE SUPERSTAR!"

 

A white pyrotechnic explosion rocks the stage, which then begins to fill with thick smoke. The sold out Atlanta crowd reacts positively, cheering like crazy when they see a large figure emerge through the haze on stage. The music continues, the fast paced "Baseline" by Quarashi.

 

Baseline, baseline

we’ve got fools on the case and their giving me baseline

Baseline, baseline

Baseline, baseline

we’ve got fools on the case and their giving me baseline

Baseline, baseline

 

Now we’re back in the game

The Quarashi pain it’s plain

I see the suckers fall out and the fuckers call out

Pick me up. But they don’t know what it’s about

I do my shit on the mic and I’m pleasing the crowd

Jump back, get back or else your getting a smack

on your face just like your daddy used to smack you way back in the days

This ain't no silly ass game I’m playing

hear what I’m saying, now start praying

 

Inside the ring, Funyon is ready with the announcements. "The following MAIN EVENT contest is a FIRST BLOOD match! Introducing first, from Miami, Florida, weighing in at 277 pounds... LOOOOOOONGDOGGERRRRRR PEEEEEEETE!"

 

Longdogger Pete makes it down the ramp and enters the ring, clad in his new look. Pete wears a black leather jacket and dark sunglasses in addition to his wrestling attire, but he removes both upon entering the ring, handing them off to referee Eddy Long, who diligently places the articles of clothing outside the ring. Pete ascends a turnbuckle to the second rope and raises a closed fist in the air, getting the attention of the cheering audience. After a moment's hesitation, he climbs back down to the mat, facing the entrance ramp to watch for his opponent as his music fades out.

 

 

...

 

 

...

 

 

"ALL ABOOOOOOOARD!!"

 

 

"What the HELL?!" wonders Stevens as "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Ozbourne kicks up. The crowd erupts with a cacophony of jeering as none other than the SWF commissioner himself enters the stage. "What is the Suicide King doing out here?"

 

"I guess we're about to find out," Riley replies.

 

King smiles as he glances around the booing crowd, and then raises a microphone, waiting to speak until the crowd noise dies down and his music fades out. "Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all expected to see a first blood match here tonight as your main event, pitting Longdogger Pete against Neilsen of the Jungle!"

 

The crowd cheers, still in anticipation of the upcoming main event.

 

"But you know something?" King continues. "I was talking to LDP earlier tonight, and he confessed something to me. You know what he said? He said he doesn't have the FIRE anymore for this kind of match! He doesn't think he can handle it!"

 

Inside the ring, Longdogger Pete glowers at King, eyes narrowing.

 

"Well, you know what, folks?" King goes on. "Since LDP doesn't think he can HANDLE a First Blood match on Smarkdown tonight... there isn't going to BE a First Blood match. I'm officially CANCELLING the main event!"

 

A chorus of boos rocks the Phillips Arena, but King just smiles at his handiwork. "Now, now, don't be booing me. The Doggah himself deserves all the credit for this little decision! Now, get out of here already! Go home! The show's over!"

 

King turns and walks up the ramp, his music kicking up again, leaving Pete, plus an arena full of people, totally confused.

 

"Oh, my God!" laughs Riley. "King just pissed off a whole lot of people! And it's all Pete's fault!"

 

"Why the hell would the commissioner do something like that?" Stevens wonders aloud.

 

On that question and Mark Stevens' puzzlement, the camera fades to black...

 

 

Smarks Wrestling Federation

© 2003 Apple White Productions

[Guest Suicide King]

For a rather robust show, I must say that I am not terribly pleased. A surprising amount of no-shows from a surprising selection of people with surprisingly poor excuses. I'm not your mother so I am not going to scold them, but there you go.

 

The card will be up tomorrow afternoon. I will give you a sneak preview though. Dace and Danny will be getting a tag title shot, Jay Dawg will have a shot at Flesher for the title this time, and Neilsen will be savagely mauled my wild bears.