SMARKDOWN!

[Guest Suicide King]

SWF Smarkdown

June 2, 2003

Live from the Sold-Out Target Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota!

 

 

Tag Team Match

Frost & Longdogger Pete v. Micheal Craven & Sean Atlas

After their inspiring first match as a team, it seemed Frost & LDP have started to gel as a team even while suffering a defeat at the hands of Wild & Dangerous. They asked for another tag team match to keep themselves sharp and who should they get but the Nightmare and Atlas, a nasty combination if ever there was one.

 

 

No Gravity Match

Tod deKindes v. Wild Child

Tod requested this match, looking for a way to test his high-flying skills against one of the best in the business today, the Wild Child!

 

 

Six Man Tag Match

Nathaniel Kibagami, "Deathwish" Danny Williams and Dace Night v. Justice & Rule and Janus

Kibagami hates Janus. Janus hates Kibagami. Danny and Dace might just be the toughest challenge to the Tag Titles. J&R... well... rule. This should be incredible.

 

 

Singles Match - Non Title

Johnny "The Barracuda" Dangerous v. Tom "The Superior One" Flesher

Ever since Lockdown on Wednesday, the Internet has been buzzing about a backstage confrontation between the Barracuda and the World Champion. That lead to a long talk with the Commish, and that lead to this match. Johnny will get a chace to see what he is made of against possibly the best wrestler in the SWF.

 

 

Main Event

Singles Match - Number One Contender for the World Heavyweight Title

The Boston Strangler v. Jay Dawg

JD has taken the Champ to the limit twice, narrowly missing his first World Title. On Lockdown, Flesher walked out of his match against TBS. Both men have pushed Flesher to new levels, and now one of them has the chance for a rematch and a shot at the most prstigious belt in the SWF.

[Guest Suicide King]

The Smarkdown music fades away and the entrance promo is replaced by a view of the decibel busting Target Center! The camera takes the appropriate time to scour the arena, searching for signs, merchandise, and well endowed women. Shortly after, it focuses on the entrance ramp for the Pre-Smarkdown pyro.

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!

 

 

Stevens: The time has come for SWF SMARKDOWN!!! We are LIVE from Minneapolis, Minnesota on a chilly night, featuring that’s sure to be remembered!

 

Riley: We’ve got a World Title Contendership match, along with a No Gravity bout and a Six Man Tag that everyone’s fired up for! But first, Frost and Longdogger Pete will take on the combination of Michael Craven and Sean Atlas, a deadly duo if there ever was one.

 

Stevens: The question is though, will Craven and Atlas get along tonight? Sean Atlas suffered a loss to the US Champion last week, his only SWF loss so far aside from his debut match. Can they work past the hostility that emerged from it, or will they topple the impressive team of Frost and LDP?

 

Riley: No matter what, that match is sure to be a rocketbuster!

 

 

As if on cue, the opening notes of Lacuna Coil’s “Heaven’s a Lie” chime in through the sound system while the lights dim down to accentuate the image on the SmarkTron. Atlas’ crucifix entrance from Battleground appears on the enormous screen, showing a cross emergefrom beneath. As the electric guitars swell and the music comes to a climax...

 

 

!*BOOM*!

 

 

A colossal explosion goes off on the stage, leaving behind a fume of smoke that fills up the entrance way. Through the haze appears the form of a man, soon identified to be Sean Atlas. His music plays on while he walks down the ramp, carrying something in his hand. Funyon, routinely doing his job, introduces him and the match to follow.

 

 

“The following tag team match is set for....”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Put the mic away, Fun-boy. I’ve got a few things to say first.”

 

 

The sound of the jeering crowd seems to grow louder once Sean’s music is cut off. He walks down to the ring, taking in the jeers while walking up the steps and steps inside the squared circle.

 

 

“Quiet down, people. This has nothing to do with you. You’re not worthy of my breath or piece of mind, so just allow me to-” says Atlas, cut off by a stirred up crowd.

 

“ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!!!”

 

He speaks again. “Thank you for that... wonderful ovation. Now, onto more important things - like me. See, I usually don’t toot my own horn or talk about myself all that much. I never bragged about destroying the Junior League while down there. I don’t claim to be the best prospect since my good friend and World Champion Tom Flesher. But when you accomplish something significant enough, you’ve just got to speak your mind about it.”

 

 

Riley: What’s he doing, Mark?

 

Stevens: The same thing he does every night.

 

Riley: Try to take over the world?

 

Stevens: No, imbecile, he talks about beating a certain stable...

 

 

Sean says, “I’m talking about my recent streak of wins. I came in here and beat Mike Van Siclen and Johnny Dangerous, then pinned Longdogger Pete, which you might see again tonight. After a small misstep against the US Champion, I went on to defeat fellow mask-wielding man Beezel and Wildchild, completing the sweep of the stable known as Catch-22. Ladies and gentlemen of this rundown slump, I humbly ask you, how often do you see something like that?”

 

 

Riley: Damn, they’re really giving it to him here in Minnesota.

 

Stevens: They sure are, and with good reason. Nobody wants to hear someone talk about himself.

 

Riley: You do. You just love hearing yourself talk, don’t you, Mark?

 

Stevens: What does that have to do with... Ugh, go away, you fruitcake.

 

 

“But like I said, I don’t like to talk about myself, which is why I’ve chosen not to show you a replay of all my wins over the four chumps in Catch-22. Instead, I somewhat reluctantly present to you my partner for tonight’s Tag Team Match against Puppy and Frosty, who should prepare to get on their own job train, courtesy of Operation Atlas! Ladies and Gentlemen, the lucky-to-be US Champion, Michael Cra-“

 

 

TING! TING! TING! TING!

 

 

Riley: What’s this?

 

Stevens: I think it’s Mike Van Siclen!

 

Riley: What? Why?

 

 

The four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that begin “Damage Done” by Dark Tranquility blasts throughout the Target Center as blue strobes begins to flash in time with the music. Mike Van Siclen steps onto the ramp, dressed in street clothes and holding a microphone of his own while the crowd cheers The Spectacle. Atlas, meanwhile, stands in the ring, leaning against the ropes facing Van Siclen, curious to hear why he was so rudely interrupted.

 

 

“Cut the music!” says MVS, waiting for the song to shut off. “Well, well, if it isn’t our resident Atheist. And what’s he doing? Ironically enough, preaching to the choir here in Minneapolis, Minnesota. And what is it that he’s saying? Something about pinning all four members of Catch-22? Hmm, well, that sounds a bit odd, doesn’t it? Well it is odd, folks. In fact, just like most of the things Atlas tells you, it’s a completely blasphemous LIE!”

 

 

Riley: How dare he accuse Sean of such treachery?!

 

Stevens: Hold on Bobby, there may be something to this...

 

 

“Let’s see now, last week you beat Wildchild, I’ll give you that. The week before, it was our flagship member, Beezel. Again, you win there. But then, a few weeks before then, you took on Johnny Dangerous and me in a triple threat match, right?”

 

“Damn right, and I beat both of you jobbers.” replies Sean.

 

“Oh did you? Well I may have some head trauma from that night, but as far as I recall you hit your Saint’s Demise on me onto Johnny, and then covered HIM for the 1-2-3. When, in all of these so called accomplishments, did you ever pin ME?” asks Van Siclen

 

“I didn’t have to, you little punk. One Saint’s Demise through another body is enough to coun as a win. If you couldn’t get your lazy ass up to break up the cover then you lost! Deal with it!” says a fuming Sean Atlas.

 

 

Riley: I agree with him! If you didn’t win in a three way, then you lost it. End of story.

 

Stevens: And you’re the expert on three ways, aren’t you. That fact is, Atlas never pinned MVS, thus never defeated him.

 

 

“Deal with what, Sean? I never lost to you, Johnny did. Yeah, I was involved in that match but it’s not my responsibility to keep someone else from losing it. In a triple threat match everyone’s got to look out for himself, and that’s exactly what I did.” claims MVS.

 

“Oh really. So that’s why you just allowed me to drive you right through Johnny? Come on, Mike. What about the time since then? Jobbing to all three of your stablemates, along with another failed title shot against Craven don’t count as accomplishments.” Atlas fires back.

 

“The same Michael Craven that you lost to, Sean? The same Michael Craven that you’re supposed to be working with tonight? Good luck with that, man. Personally though, I don’t care who I lost to. All I know is, you’re not one of them and I’m tired of hearing you claim otherwise. What do you say, Sean, how about a match? You and me, one on one.” says Van Siclen, throwing off his jacket. “Lot’s go tonight, Atlas, how about it?”

 

The crowd pops upon hearing the challenge, applauding MVS.

 

 

Stevens: Sounds like the fans wouldn’t mind that!

 

Riley: Who cares what they do and don’t mind? It’s not up to these Minneapolisites.

 

 

“You know Mike, I would, but unlike you, I’m not taking the night off to heal up. Maybe some other time, junior.” retorts Sean.

 

“The how about NEXT WEEK?”

 

 

The fans stir up, encouraging Atlas to accept the challenge. He looks around, showing his masked countenance to each side of the arena, wondering what to say to Mike’s offer. He eventually approaches the ropes once again and draws the microphone to where his mouth must be...

 

 

“Mike Van Siclen versus Sean Atlas... next week... Hmm....”

 

Stevens: Do it, Sean. Say yes...!

 

 

BOOM-BOOM BOOM... BOOM...

 

 

Stevens: WHAT in the WORLD??

 

 

As pulsating strobe lights and a golden shower of pyrotechnics pours down from above, all to the sound of Audioslave’s “Cochise”, Michael Craven emerges from behind the curtain. He walks out through the fireworks, US Title draped over his shoulder, dressed in his usual metallic black singlet. He marches down the ramp, approaching Mike Van Siclen.

 

 

Riley: We never got an answer from Atlas! Couldn’t Craven pick a better moment to vome out?

 

Stevens: There is no better moment. There’s no moment appropriate enough for Michael Craven to show up. Ever.

 

 

The US Champion brushes past MVS, bumping shoulders with him slightly. Van Siclen flinches, then thinks better of it and backs away, turning his attention back to Atlas. Sean, meanwhile, stands in mid-ring, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture matching his reply to Mike’s challenge. Standing onstage, Van Siclen confidently nods back and steps through the curtain.

 

 

Stevens: Well, in any case, the issue between Van Siclen and Sean Atlas remains unresolved. But for the moment, we’ve got a tag team match to get to!

 

Riley: Funyon, get to work!

[Guest Suicide King]

Audioslave’s "Cochise" continues to blare through the Target Center, mixing with the heavy jeering of the fans. Michael Craven hands off his precious United States Title belt to a ring attendant as Funyon makes the introductions for the coming contest.

 

"The following tag team match is scheduled for one fall and will be held under standard SWF rules. Now in the ring at a combined weight of 525 pounds, respectively from Tampa, Florida and Chicago, Illinois, SWF United States Champion MICHAEL CRAVEN and SEAN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSS!"

 

Craven and Atlas pay no heed to the booing crowd as they attempt to form some sort of game plan in the lower right ring corner. They talk with heads lowered, but one gets the impression that they’re not getting much straightened out.

 

OH, MY GOD! INCREDIBLE SUPERSTAR!

 

White pyrotechnics explode across the entrance stage, filling the area with smoke. The fans explode with cheering as they see the form of Longdogger Pete stroll out from the smoke with both arms raised to acknowledge the cheering throng. The camera cuts to a wide shot of the Target Center as LDP walks slowly down the ramp in time with Quarashi’s "Baseline."

 

Mark Stevens's voice is heard on voice over. "We waste no time in getting to our first match of the night with the odd pairing of Michael Craven and Sean Atlas already in the ring to face what would appear to be another odd paring in Longdogger Pete and Frost."

 

Bobby Riley whistles through his fingers and claps his hands. "I have to give it up for Sean Atlas’ opening speech. It was like listening to a sober Kennedy speak. Just brilliant."

 

"All he basically did was chew out Mike Van Siclen to draw him down to ringside." Mark says, a bit confused by Riley’s joy.

 

"And totally punk him out, I know, that’s what was brilliant about it."

 

The camera shoots a close up of LDP stopping as he reaches the bottom of the ramp. He points a finger at the duo in the ring and they jaw at each other. Silver pyro bursts from the rafters to juice the fans’ cheering anew. Black Sabbath’s “Snowblind” accompanies the blue spotlight shining on the entrance curtain and tiny snowflakes fluttering serenely from above. Frost steps out from the back with one hand in the air and a cigar tightly in his teeth. He eyes the pair in the ring with disdain and lumbers down the ramp with that old familiar swagger in his step.

 

"It was Longdogger Pete who came to Frost in his darkest hour..."

 

Riley interrupts Stevens. "On order of the Suicide King with the promise of a tag title shot on the line. LDP doesn’t care anything for Frost, just winning another title before he’s too old and banged up to move, not that’s he’s far from that now."

 

Frost joins his partner at the foot of the ramp and they converse with lowered heads as Funyon announces them. "And their opponents at a combined weight of 573 pounds and respectively from Reykjavik, Iceland and Miami, Florida, FROST and LONGDOGGER PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETE!"

 

Stevens chastises his broadcast partner. "No need to stir the pot, Bobby. LDP’s work with Frost has been remarkable, as the Icelander’s impressive win over Nathaniel Kibagami on Lockdown demonstrates. He’s found his eye of the tiger and will test it tonight against two men he has no love loss for."

 

"And what was LDP doing on Lockdown?" Riley questions. "Getting his ass handed to him by Dace Night of all people, while Atlas and Craven were successful in their matches. Hell, Craven and Atlas are undefeated in tag action, while Frost and LDP are winless. You don’t need to be a math whiz to figure out the loser quotient in this contest."

 

Frost and LDP take the ring apron and step over the top rope in tandem. Referee Billy Chiota finishes patting down the heel team and moves over to the faces. Frost glares at Craven with hatred boiling in his eyes. He flicks his smoldering cigar to the outside floor mats.

 

Stevens is livid. "Bobby! Craven and Atlas have never even tagged before, while Frost and LDP have only one battle under their belts, a hard fought loss against Wild and Dangerous."

 

"Pbbbt." Rileys flutters his lips with a harsh noise, unimpressed by Mark’s points. "That’s like losing to Koko B. Ware and Barry Horowitz. Frost and LDP are not a tag threat to lose sleep over."

 

As soon as Chiota finishes checking Frost, the big man storms across the canvas where Atlas and Craven are bickering about whom will start the match. Atlas sees Frost charging over Craven’s shoulder and steps to the apron. Michael seems confused, but that look is wiped off his face with a battering forearm to the back of the neck! Frost beats Craven down to his knees to the joy of the crowd. Chiota turns around with wide eyes and the junior ref is forced to call for the bell, starting the match slightly earlier than anticipated.

 

DING DING DING

 

"There is no reason for that!" Riley hisses. "Poor sportsmanship by Frost."

 

"When Frost gets a fire lit under him, it’s lit. One also has to remember that this is the first time these two have been in a ring since the infamous Stash the Ash Match at Dissention back in October. They might have flip-flopped adoration in the fans’ eyes, but the loathing between these two still burns."

 

Frost pulls Craven up by the wrist and Irish whips him across the mat to his corner. Michael turns to take the buckles in the back and slumps. Frost rushes in with a shoulder block, but Craven collects himself in time to plummet to the canvas and roll out of the way! Frost impales the corner with his shoulder hard enough to jar the entire ring. Craven pops to his feet with a wicked grin and points a finger to his head to show his grand intelligence. The fans pop as Michael turns back toward Frost, not realizing how close he is to the face’s corner and is sent crashing to the mat by a running lariat from LDP on the apron!

 

"This is ridiculous! Frost and LDP are cheating worse then the... uh..." Riley stammers.

 

"...than the cheaters are cheating?" Mark finishes.

 

"Yeah... NO!"

 

Chiota yells at LDP while Atlas shouts threats of his own from across the ring. Pete apologizes and obediently retakes his post holding the tag rope. Both men in the ring work their way to their feet. Craven skips into Frost with a knee to the gut to keep him stunned and snags his wrist for a whip to the opposite corner. Frost hits the turnbuckles and slouches much as Michael did on the other side of the ring. Craven struts toward Frost as if he has all the time in the world.

 

"The U.S. Champion isn’t going to run in there half cocked," Riley notes. "He knows Frost could dodge out of the way just as easy as he did. I like this persona a lot better than Ash Ketchum. He’s got a lot more brains now than he had then... well, that’s saying he actually has some brains now."

 

One cannot see Sean Atlas’ face, but his body language is tense. Craven spins around suddenly, as if LDP was running into the ring. Chiota is startled and looks to see... nothing. Atlas seizes the moment and wraps the tag rope around Frost’s neck! He gags and claws at the strap, the audience madly booing.

 

"Very nice," Riley applauds. "Atlas and Craven are running like a well oiled machine already."

 

Chiota whisks around from the crowd noise, but Atlas has already released his hold. Craven grins evilly at Frost and continues to strut toward him. Frost’s head snaps up and he catches Atlas off guard with a straight right hand to the side of the head! The crowd explodes! Craven is paralyzed with terror as Frost flies out of the corner with his arm out. He slams into Craven to send him flipping head over heels with a massive strike!

 

"HELL FREEZES OVER! Frost is jamming up the gears!" Mark exclaims.

 

"Oh, yeah, that was clever." Riley rolls his eyes.

 

LDP claps his partner on as he picks Craven up by the sides of his head to acquire a front facelock. Frost puts his head under Craven’s armpit and grabs a handful of tights for a suplex. He gets the man up, but Michael shifts his weight to the side and drops out of the move to the side of the Icelander. He spins behind Frost while pushing him forward by both hands on his shoulder. With a little distance gained, Craven boots Frost in the back to make him tilt rearwards. Michael snags an inverted facelock and sways slightly to right.

 

Stevens calls, "Craven breaks the suplex attempt and looks to be going for the Diamond Bullet... NO!"

 

Before Craven can snap the move off, Frost hammers an elbow into the gut to earn the break. Michael folds in half from the shot and Frost collars him around the neck, skipping out and down to bulldog Craven with a wham!

 

"Very similar to Frost’s own Rock ‘n Roll the Dice inverted neckbreaker variation, the Velvet Hammer knew how to counter the maneuver and takes over with a bulldog."

 

"Yeah, real technical, Mark," Riley scoffs, "an elbow to the stomach."

 

Frost flips over to his hands and knees and scurries as fast as his near 300-pound body will go in order to tag in Longdogger Pete. The masses cheer for the beloved vet as he climbs into the ring between the ropes. Craven wearily pushes himself up, still bent over and dragging his knuckles against the mat. Pete boots Craven in the rear to send him sprawling into the ropes. He bounces off and turns to trip right into a facelock from LDP. He wastes no time or motion in reeling back to bash The Freak’s skull into the canvas.

 

"DDT from LDP!" Mark shouts. "The cover!"

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

TH-

 

Sean Atlas comes into the ring and kicks Pete squarely in the back of the neck for the break. The ref leaps up and pushes Atlas toward his corner as the crowd jeers. Pete attempts to stand while holding the back of his ringing head. Craven forces his way to his knees and, knowing the tide desperately needs turned, slams a forearm between LDP’s legs to rock his crotch! The audience groans in sympathy and Chiota whips his head around, too late to witness the blatant cheating.

 

"How about that for cheating?" Mark chides Bobby.

 

"Hard to low blow a guy who we all know doesn’t have any balls." Riley hits the last word hard for emphasis.

 

LDP sinks to his knees with both hands over his groin. Craven makes his feet behind the man and snakes his arms under the Miami Menace’s shoulders. He pulls up to get LDP on his feet and locks his fingers on the man’s head for a full nelson. He jerks up to get his feet off the mat and shoves him out and down while releasing the hold. Pete slams the mat so hard; Craven himself is knocked to the side from the reverberation of impact!

 

"Red Fusion!" Mark calls.

 

"Oh, is it time for the promos already? Drink Dr. Pepper Red Fusion, a proud sponsor of the SW..."

 

Stevens cuts Riley off by holding a hand over his mouth. "Just chew your gum."

 

Finding himself in his corner, Craven tags out to Atlas and steps to the apron. Atlas enters the ring to a firm chorus of boos and makes his presence known with a flying elbow drop to LDP’s back. He rolls the man over and hooks the leg for a pin.

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

THR-

 

Frost looks to enter the ring just as Pete lifts his shoulder and kicks his feet to break. Frost clutches the tag rope with one hand and uses his other arm to lean into the ring, waiting expectantly for a tag. Pete pushes himself up to his feet and holds his arm out to tag Frost into the match, but Atlas is ready, pulling Pete's feet out from under him, sending Pete to the mat with a rear leg takedown. Pete takes the fall in stride, rolling out of it to pop back up to his feet, but his chance to tag in Frost is blown -- he's now several feet further away from Frost's corner, well out of reach.

 

"Nice move from Atlas to keep LDP isolated," Stevens says.

 

Atlas delivers a powerful right hand chop across Pete's chest, and the Miami Menace winces in pain. Another second is followed by another right hand chop from Atlas, but Pete blocks this one by raising the open palm of his left hand to deflect the blow. Pete then fires off a powerful overhand right punch to Atlas's upper body, staggering Sean back. Pete connects with a second punch, and a third, until a bruised Atlas merely stands prone. The Doggah grabs Atlas by the arm and Irish whips him into the ropes. Atlas careens into the ring ropes, and helplessly bounces off them, ricocheting back toward Pete -- who connects suddenly with a massive boot across Atlas's face! Atlas goes down like a sack of potatoes, and Pete is right on top of him for a cover attempt.

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

THR-

 

 

Atlas is saved at the last moment by Michael Craven, who steps into the ring and kicks Pete in the ribs, breaking up the count. At the same time, Frost climbs into the ring, running toward Craven and shoving him violently against the ropes. Referee Billy Chiota quickly enforces his authority, breaking up Frost and Craven and forcing Frost back toward his corner against his protestations. With Chiota's gaze temporarily averted, Craven and Atlas take advantage and double team the hapless LDP, knocking him to the mat and laying in with a series of devastating stomps. Frost sees the cheating and tries to signal the referee's attention, but Chiota is too busy making sure Frost remains on the opposite side of the ropes.

 

"Look at that! They're cheating right under the referee's nose!" exclaims Stevens.

 

"I guess LDP and Frost are getting a taste of their own medicine," replies Riley.

 

Michael Craven lifts a groggy Pete to his feet, and holds him prone, standing behind Pete and holding his wrists behind his back. As Craven holds Pete in place, Atlas delivers a nasty superkick across Pete's chest. Pete cries out but is powerless to stop the attack. Craven allows Pete to drop to the mat and Atlas drops down to hook his leg for a cover attempt -- just as Billy Chiota turns his attention away from Frost and back to the match. Chiota sees Michael Craven comfortably back in his corner and Atlas with the cover attempt on LDP. Chiota quickly makes the count...

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

THR-

 

 

LDP barely manages to kick out, and soon finds himself being lifted off the mat again by Sean Atlas.

 

"A close shave there for LDP," reports Mark Stevens.

 

Atlas stands Pete up, then knocks him back down with a stiff kick to the knees. Pete's knee buckles, and the One Man Wrecking Crew topples over, but Atlas catches him and whips him into the corner. Pete's head impacts with the turnbuckle post with a CLANG. Atlas clutches Pete by the back of the neck with one hand, and with the other, reaches over and tags in Craven.

 

"And there Sean Atlas targets Longdogger Pete's weak spot, his knees," Stevens continues.

 

"So if the guy's too old to walk, why the hell is he wrestling?" Riley wonders aloud.

 

"If you can't say anything intelligent," Stevens counters, "why do you bother to talk?"

 

Michael Craven enters the ring, now as the legal man, and Pete tries his best to put up a fight, firing off two quick knife edge chops across Craven's midsection. However Pete is wounded and weary, and thus the chops don't have the desired impact Pete is looking for. Craven shrugs them off, then hauls back and launches a high powered forearm smash. The tremendous blow to the head totally clocks LDP, dropping Craven's ex-stablemate to the mat, unconscious.

 

"Look at the power behind Craven's move!" Stevens blinks as he realizes what he's saying. "I'm sorry. It just occurred to me that the words 'Craven' and 'power' really shouldn't be used in the same sentence."

 

"How about 'Frost' and 'gay?'" wonders Riley.

 

Michael Craven drapes his arm over the unconscious Longdogger Pete, and Billy Chiota is once again ready with the count.

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

THRE--

 

 

NO! Frost hightails it back to the ring and shoves Craven aggressively out of the way. As Craven tries to get back up, Frost slips an arm around his neck and throws him violently to the mat in a swinging neckbreaker. Once again, Chiota forces Frost back to his corner of the ring, but this time Frost calmly acquiesces, as the damage has been done.

 

Both Pete and Craven are now down on the mat, and the audience frantically chants for their hero to get up.

 

"L - D - P! L - D - P!"

 

Slowly, almost as if responding to the fans alone, Pete does manage to come around. He looks woozy and incoherent, but he is aware enough to roll the few feet required to drape an arm over Michael Craven, allowing Billy Chiota to count the pinfall attempt.

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

THRE--

 

 

Craven wakes with a start, powering out of the pinfall and rolling to his feet. Both men start to get up, but Craven is just too quick for Pete, and he hurries to his corner to tag Sean Atlas back in.

 

"Uh oh," warns Stevens. "A fresh Sean Atlas against a worn Longdogger Pete. This does not bode well for the One Man Wrecking Crew."

 

"'One Man Wrecking Crew?'" Riley repeats. "I've got a better nickname, and a much simpler one too: 'Wrecked!'"

 

Atlas rushes toward Pete, easily breaching LDP's defenses, grabbing his opponent by the forearms and hefting him into the air, flipping him backward in a breathtaking German release suplex. Pete lands behind Atlas with a dull THUD.

 

"There's a big suplex from Sean Atlas," says Stevens, "wasting little time in the ring."

 

Atlas leaps atop the Doggah and attacks the Miami native with a punch to the mouth. Pete coughs, and spits up a little blood, finally busted open by the combined assault of Atlas and Craven. Atlas hooks Pete's leg for a cover attempt.

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-

 

 

Pete just manages to get his shoulder up, forcing Atlas to roll off him as he tries to return to his feet. Pete gets up, and with what's left of his energy, he steps toward Frost in a desperate attempt to tag in his partner. Atlas is ready, and grabs Pete from behind, dropping him backward in a reverse DDT before the Doggah can reach Frost.

 

"Once again Atlas succeeds in isolating LDP. He needs to make a tag soon or he'll be in serious trouble," says Stevens.

 

"He's already in serious trouble!" exclaims Riley, stating the obvious.

 

Very slowly, Pete tries to stand again. In response, Atlas grabs Pete and throws him headlong into an Irish whip. But Pete manages to reverse the whip, getting a sudden surge of energy, and sends Atlas to the ropes instead! Atlas bounces off the ropes, and then runs back toward Pete, who digs down deep, lifting Atlas into the air and pulling off a devastating pumphandle slam, powering Atlas's head into the mat! The move physically drains the weakened Pete, and he drops to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Frost leans in for a tag, and across the ring, Michael Craven leans in as well.

 

"This is it! This is Pete's chance to tag Frost back into the match, while Atlas is down!"

 

The Minnesota crowd gets louder as both Pete and Atlas try to crawl to their feet, each one inching closer to their respective tag team partners.

 

Closer... closer still...

 

SMACK! Pete finally manages to slap hands with Frost, making the Icelander the new legal man! SMACK! A half second later, Atlas makes the tag to Craven as well! Three hundred pounds of Frost come barreling into the ring as Pete slides out to his corner. Frost rolls over Craven with a power clothesline before the U.S. champion can mount an offense. Atlas gets to his feet to attack Frost, but a second clothesline sends Atlas sprawling as well. Craven is quickly back up, but this time Frost lifts Craven clear off the mat, shifting to the side and piledriving the hapless Craven with a northern lights bomb.

 

"Snow Plow!" hollers Stevens appreciatively. "Finally Frost is decimating the competition, and the fans are eating it up! This is the Frost we've been wanting to see!"

 

"You mean, as opposed to the brooding, depressive Frost?" Riley asks aloud.

 

Craven struggles to recover from Frost's relentless assault, wobbling a bit as he gets to his feet. Frost rears back and delivers a sharp heart punch, striking Craven's chest with such intensity that Craven almost falls back down to the mat. Craven instead staggers backward into the ropes, and holds onto the top rope to keep himself standing as he regains his composure.

 

"Frost scoring with the Touch of Frost," says Stevens. "Looks like he's setting up for the Early Winter! That could end this match right here!"

 

Frost slides his arms into place for a double underhook, preparing his finisher on Craven... but is suddenly struck from behind by an interfering Sean Atlas! Frost lets go of Craven, allowing him to drop to the mat, and spins around to face Atlas. Atlas wastes no time, grabbing Frost's arms and dropping backward, catapulting Frost over his head in a Tazz style suplex! Frost's three hundred pound frame collides hard with the mat.

 

"Sean Atlas stops the Early Winter with a Katahajime Suplex on Frost!" exclaims Stevens.

 

"Someone should tell Frost it's summertime!" Riley declares.

 

Atlas rolls the downed Craven atop Frost for the cover attempt, and Billy Chioda makes the count.

 

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE--

 

 

NO! Longdogger Pete runs back in and kicks Michael off Frost. Pete turns suddenly and averts a chop from Sean Atlas, instead driving a hard right into Atlas's upper body. Atlas flinches, and Pete sticks him with a gut punch. This time Atlas doubles forward in pain, and Pete capitalizes, grabbing Atlas by the shoulders and dropping backward, planting Atlas's face squarely into the mat!

 

"CLOGGER!" hollers Stevens. "LONGDOGGER CLOGGER ON SEAN ATLAS! The Miami Menace retaliates big time, and this Minnesota crowd is loving every second of it!"

 

Frost gets back to his feet and surveys the situation. LDP is exiting the ring, both Atlas and Craven are down, and Craven is the legal opponent. Frost crawls over Craven and twists his body back into a cobra clutch. Craven cries out in pain as Frost locks in his submission finisher.

 

Thousands of people look on in expectation as Michael Craven tries to extend an arm in a lost cause effort at grabbing the ropes and forcing the submission hold to be broken. The barely conscious Sean Atlas doesn't appear to be much help either. Cursing under his breath, Craven drops his hand...

 

 

 

 

 

...back down to the mat...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...and begins tapping.

 

 

 

DING DING DING

 

"He's done it!" exclaims Stevens. "Frost has made the United States champion tap out!"

 

"Snowblind" hits the speakers again as Funyon gets back on the microphone to announce the victor to the already ecstatic Minneapolis audience. "Here are your winners... FROST AND LONGDOGGER PETE!"

 

"The team of Frost and LDP has finally won their first match as a team!" shouts Stevens. "Great match!"

 

"A little too short for my liking," Riley mutters.

 

"Folks, coming up next Tod deKindes takes on Wildchild in a No Gravity match! We'll be right back!"

 

The camera fades out on the victorious tag team, still celebrating their win in the ring.

[Guest Suicide King]

The camera opens up after commercial break to the locker room of the Magnificent 7, which at the moment is occupied by its leader and the participants of the upcoming 6-man Tag. The massive frame of Janus sits tentatively one of the benches next to the calm Hearford while Ejiro leans on one of the lockers. Tom Flesher stands up in front of the fearsome trio like a general about to give his troops a mission, and in a not so literal sense that’s exactly what’s going on.

 

“Look, tonight is the night we stop this Unholy Trinity crap once and for all,” he says in a serious tone, looking at each of the wrestlers around him, “Show him what the hell a Death wish is, and don’t screw around. I want him out of my hair and out of this God Damned federation.”

 

“And Dace?” ask Ejiro.

 

“Him, too. I want to kill the Trinity now. Screw Kibagami, I-” says Tom, but the baritone voice of Janus speaks up.

 

“I want Kibagami.”

 

“Janus,” he responds in his most diplomatic tone, “Not tonight. You got your chance at him at PPV, but this is probably the only chance we are going to get at this whole Trinity crap for a while and I don’t want to pass up an opportunity t-”

 

“And neither do I. I want Kibagami tonight.”

 

Janus stands up, dwarfing his leader by over a foot. But Flesher isn’t intimidated easily, and he stands his ground.

 

“Janus, you get him at PPV. You get the Trinity tonight. Trust me, you do it tonight, and I’ll do my best to make sure you’ll get all the time you want with Kibagami at 13th Hour. Just get do what I say tonight.”

 

Janus gives a frown, but nods his head grudgingly.

 

“Fine, then. As long as he doesn’t get in my way, the Trinity is going to become a singularity.”

 

With that, the massive man walks out the door, and Tom turns to the two men left in the room.

 

“Judge, Ejiro, make sure as hell he doesn’t get Kibagami tonight. I don’t want him making any stupid mistakes because he’s trying to cripple the guy anymore.”

 

The two nod their heads in agreement, understanding reasoning behind it, and walk out of the room. The camera follows, and they only get a few steps out of the room before they are beset by the next contenders to the Tag Titles: Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous. Dawning their new Catch-22 shirts, they step right up into the path of Justice and Rule.

 

“Justice. Rule.” says Johnny, nodding at both of them.

 

“What do you want, tool?” is Ejiro’s immediate response, and Wildchild answers.

 

“We were jus’ about to wis’ you luck, mon ami.”

 

“Wish us luck?” questions the Judge.

 

“Of course,” replies Johnny nonchalantly, “Because Wildchild and I would hate to see you two injured tonight by those three big bad men. When we beat you a second time for the tag titles.”

 

“Second? I don’t remember you beating us the first time…”

 

“We won the damn TLC, but that’s okay. We don’t mind take you guys mano-a-mano. You just don’t get yourselves hurt tonight. We don’t want you two saying you lost because you were injured.”

 

“Like you could beat us…”

 

“’ey, ami, we are t’e only team you ‘aven’t beat. You didn’t bea’ us befor’, and you won’t bea’ us next time.”

 

With that Hearford tries to shove through the two smaller men, but neither of them budges, and the Judge takes a step back, slightly irritated. He glares along with Ejiro as they are forced to walk around them, and as the Tag Champs walk away, Wild and Dangerous turn to watch them, showing off a phrase on the back of their shirts:

 

“Messing with us is just a no-win situation.”

[Guest Suicide King]

“Coming up next will be a style of match previously unseen in the SWF,” says Mark Stevens, “as Tod deKindes challenges one of the most exciting high-flyers the SWF has ever seen in a No Gravity Match!”

 

“As I understand,” adds Bobby Riley, “this match stipulation is deKindes’ brainchild. And, after getting tired of hearing some of the boys in the back talk about Wildchild’s supposed skills as a high-flier, Tod’s decided to show the rookie exactly where he belongs on the Light-Heavyweight food chain!”

 

“Tod better make sure his attention is fully focused on the Wildchild,” says Stevens. “Since returning to the SWF, deKindes has re-kindled an old rivalry with TNT, and last week, on Lockdown, he outlasted Thompson in an intense confrontation. I know that Tod still feels that he has unfinished business with TNT, but Bobby, he’d better not look past Wildchild in this match!”

 

“I think Tod can handle it,” replies Riley. “DeKindes has been doing this for a long time, and he’s not known for taking his opponents lightly, even when they’re space cases like Wildchild!”

 

“On that note,” says Stevens, “let’s get back to the ring, and the irrepressible Funyon!”

 

The lights slowly dim, and the haunting opening bars of “O Fortuna” begin to drift from the speakers as a familiar set of strobe lights illuminates the arena, “O Fortuna” segue ways into Marilyn Manson's “Antichrist Superstar,” and out from behind the curtain strolls Tod deKindes.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” says Funyon, “the following contest is a No Gravity Match! In order to win, each contestant must score five maneuvers against his opponent that originate with his feet on the top rope! Making his way to the ring at this time, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing two hundred twenty-five pounds, Tod deKiiiiindes!” DeKindes rolls underneath the bottom rope and to his feet, briefly pacing the ring before walking over to one of the corner and climbing to the second turnbuckle, pointing his trademark reversed guns hand signal as the crowd showers him with boos.

 

“Not a whole lot of love for deKindes here in Minneapolis,” notes Stevens.

 

“Bah,” snorts Riley in response. “TNT probably paid them not to cheer.”

 

Tod removes his trench coat and hands it to the ring attendant as the arena lights are restored and “Antichrist Superstar” yields to Smashing Pumpkins’ “The Everlasting Gaze.” The fans in the Target Center go crazy as the Bahama Bomber springs out from behind the curtain and bangs his head in rhythm to the music.

 

“His opponent,” continues Funyon, “from the Bahamas, weighing in at two hundred seventeen pounds, the Wiiiiildchiiiiild!” Wildchild races down the ramp and into the ring, somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes, and springing to his feet. He raises his arms and soaks in the adulation from the crowd, as Tod eyes him suspiciously.

 

Wildchild and Tod circle each other in the ring and the referee orders the timekeeper to ring the bell. They meet in the center of the ring and engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Wildchild takes advantage of by shifting to a side headlock. Tod backs Wildchild against the ropes and pushes him towards the far side of the ring, but Wildchild leaps into the air as he reaches the other side of the ring, landing on the top rope and curling into a ball as he springs off, blasting the unprepared deKindes in the face with a…

 

“Pinball,” cries Stevens. “Wildchild draws first blood in this match!”

 

“A lucky shot,” says Riley dismissively. “He’s not going to be able to get four more of those.”

 

----------

WC: 1

TdK: 0

----------

 

The crowd cheers as referee raises a finger into the air. Wildchild raises his arms in the air excitedly as deKindes stares at him from across the ring, rubbing his jaw gingerly with a bemused expression on his face.

 

“Tod deKindes doesn’t appear to be overly concerned about being down 1 point early to Wildchild,” remarks Stevens.

 

“And why should he,” asks Riley. “The match just started! Wildchild’s got a speed advantage on Tod, and that allowed him to get the first point, but Tod has the experience that is going to pull him through this match.”

 

Wildchild and Tod approach each other again in the center of the ring. “What makes you so sure,” asks Stevens, “that Wildchild’s speed won’t allow him to get four more shots in?”

 

As if in response, deKindes stops the Bahama Bomber short with a debilitating thumb to the eyes.

 

“That’s what,” replies Riley with a smirk. DeKindes follows up on his eye rake with a kneelift to Wildchild’s midsection, and further presses his advantage by racing to the ropes, leaping to the top rope and springing off, knocking Wildchild backwards to the mat with a missile dropkick!

 

“What do you think about THAT speed,” boasts Riley. “Everybody pays lip service to Wildchild’s speed, but you better not underestimate Tod deKindes’ ability to get around in that ring!”

 

Tod grins evilly at Wildchild, stroking the hair under his lip as the referee raises his arms in the air, extending a single finger on each hand.

 

----------

WC: 1

TdK: 1

----------

 

Having learned a quick lesson in humility, Wildchild engages deKindes in the center of the ring with renewed vigor. They meet in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Tod takes advantage of, shifting his grip to a three-quarter nelson and pulling Wildchild forward with a snapmare, following in a single fluid motion with a dropkick to the back of the head. DeKindes pulls Wildchild back to his feet and uses a deft series of right hands to force him back against the ropes, before grabbing him by the arm and whipping him to the opposite side of the ring. Tod bends down as Wildchild bounces off the far ropes and launches his through the air with a high back body drop!

 

… But the former circus star lands on the top rope behind Tod. Without hesitating, the Bahama Bomber springs backwards off the ropes and lands seated on Tod’s shoulders, locking his legs around deKindes’ neck and arching backwards, snatching him off the mat and pulling him through the air with an amazing flying headscissors!

 

“Oh, nice backdrop counter by the Caribbean Cruiserweight,” says Stevens. Once again, the crowd squeals excitedly as the referee holds his hands aloft, with two fingers extended on his left hand, compared to only one on his right.

 

----------

WC: 2

TdK: 1

----------

 

Wildchild charges Tod and stuns him with a kick to the midsection. He grabs deKindes’ arm and whips him towards the corner, but deKindes reverses, sending him in instead. The Tropical Tumbler leaps high into the air as he nears the corner, landing perched on the top rope…

 

 

WHAM!

 

Anticipating a top rope attack from Wildchild, Tod drops down, flattening himself against the canvas, but instead of leaping off the top turnbuckle, the Bahama Bomber performs a backflip straight into the air, and lands on the second turnbuckle, springing back off without pause and smashing into Tod’s back with a beautiful moonsault!

 

“Spectacular,” cries Stevens. “We’ve seen that move before by Wildchild! That should put him ahead three points to one!”

 

“No way,” argues Riley. “He didn’t jump from the top rope, he jumped from the middle rope!” Sure enough, Wildchild pleads his case, but to no avail, as the referee explains to him that his maneuver has to originate from the top rope in order for it to count.

 

Somewhat discouraged, Wildchild runs back to the corner and vaults up to the top turnbuckle. He bends down into a low crouch as he waits for Tod to get back to his feet, and leaps from the turnbuckle to crush deKindes with a flying cross body!

 

 

WHAM!

 

… But Tod catches Wildchild in midair, and holds him in front of him. DeKindes looks the Tropical Tumbler in the eyes with a cruel smirk, then turns his gaze out towards the crowd, pausing for a moment before screaming out, “Aw HELL no!” With that, Tod swings Wildchild across the front of his body, bringing the Bahama Bomber alongside him, and sitting down abruptly, driving Wildchild’s back into the mat!

 

“Formula for Failure,” shouts Riley gleefully. “Tod deKindes just put Wildchild through the mat!” DeKindes immediately gets to his feet and walks to the ropes, where he exits to the ring apron and proceeds to climb the turnbuckles. He takes less than a second to rest on the top turnbuckle before leaping off, drilling Wildchild between the eyes with a rather pedestrian-looking fistdrop. Tod gets back to his feet and taunts the crowd, which boos him as the referee again raises his arms into the air, with two fingers pointing upwards on each hand.

 

 

----------

WC: 2

TdK: 2

----------

 

“A fistdrop,” asks Stevens incredulously. “Did I fall back into 1978 somehow? Who the hell still uses a fistdrop?”

 

“Why should Tod waste needless energy to score a point when he doesn’t have to,” replies Riley. “Tod deKindes isn’t like Wildchild; he’s not going to do some stupid quadruple-somersault super space flying whatchamacallit if he doesn’t have to. Shame on you AND these so-called fans for not being able to appreciate a true master of the art at work!”

 

Wildchild rolls onto his knees, rubbing his forehead and looking at Tod with an incredulous expression on his face, while thinking to himself, ‘I can’t believe you just hit me with a fucking fistdrop!’ The Bahama Bomber pops to his feet and charges into the corner at deKindes, who sidesteps him and punches him in the back. As Wildchild arches back, clutching his back in pain, Tod grabs his arm and wrenches it into an arm-wringer as he drags him back out into the center of the ring.

 

“I have to agree, Bobby,” concedes Stevens. “Tod’s experience is allowing him to control this match. Wildchild’s a little too headstrong, and it’s getting him into trouble.”

 

WHACK!

 

Tod taunts the crowd as he continues to apply pressure on the arm-wringer, but Wildchild reverses into an arm-wringer of his own, and further surprises deKindes with a punch in the face, which elicits a roar of approval from the crowd.

 

CRASH!

 

Wildchild, still holding on to the arm-wringer, dashes for the corner, dragging Tod along behind him. He races up the turnbuckle and lands effortlessly on the top rope, across which he proceeds to walk. He walks clear from one turnbuckle to the next, and is about to head for a third, when deKindes reaches up and pushes him off the ropes, causing him to crash face-first into the ring barricade! With model efficiently, the battle-hardened veteran runs to the corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle as Wildchild holds his face in pain, and then suddenly takes flight!

 

WHAM!

 

“Dear God,” cries Stevens. “Tod deKindes just leapt from the top turnbuckle to the outside of the ring, to nail Wildchild with a flying clothesline! Tod deKindes has just taken control of this matchup!”

 

----------

WC: 2

TdK: 3

----------

 

“Surely you’re not surprised,” replies Riley. “Wildchild makes far too many careless mistakes, and against a guy like Tod deKindes, he’ll pay for them every time!”

 

Tod pulls Wildchild up and rolls him into the ring. He rolls into the ring behind him and runs to the ropes as Wildchild gets to his knees, and blasts him in the face with a running dropkick! The former XF9 member grabs Wildchild by the head and pulls him to his feet, before placing him on his shoulders.

 

“He’s going to put this match out of reach,” says Riley. “He’s going for the DVD!”

 

WHAM!

 

Wildchild struggles frantically to get free of deKindes, and eventually succeeds in slipping down his back. He takes off running for the ropes, but Tod scoops him up on the rebound and flips him through the air, driving him down into the mat with a tilt-a-whirl slam!

 

“Score one more for experience,” crows Riley. “This match is as good as done!”

 

Tod pulls Wildchild back to his feet and applies a front facelock. He lifts the Bahama Bomber above his head and shifts his weight as he falls backward to nail him with the Cerebral Driver!

 

 

WHAAAM!

 

… But Wildchild slips free of Tod’s grip and lands on his feet behind him, and as deKindes turns around, the Tropical Tumbler stuns him with a kick to the midsection and leaps high into the air, bringing his leg down over the top of Tod’s neck and driving his face into the canvas!

 

“What a counter by the Wildchild,” exclaims Stevens. “That was almost like a Rocker Dropper!”

 

“Desperation,” says Riley dismissively. “He had to do that, just to stay alive!”

 

Wildchild gets back to his feet and sees deKindes lying motionless on the mat. Sensing his opportunity, the Bahama Bomber races to the ropes, leaping onto top rope and springing backwards as he flipped forward to crush Tod with his patented Falling Star Press!

 

 

SPLASSSHH!!!

 

“Falling Star Press,” cries Stevens. “Wildchild has just even this match back up at three apiece!”

 

----------

WC: 3

TdK: 3

----------

 

Wildchild tries to press his advantage, running back to the ropes and exiting to the ring apron. He steadies himself and prepares to use the top rope to propel himself into the ring, but deKindes rolls frantically to the other side of the ring, out of Wildchild’s range.

 

“Come on, Tod,” pleads Riley. “Don’t let this punk kid beat you!”

 

Wildchild races to the turnbuckle and quickly climbs to the top. Still too far away to score a successful hit on deKindes, Wildchild runs across the top rope to the opposing turnbuckle as Tod gets to his feet.

 

 

… But, no sooner than he plants his feet on the turnbuckles, Wildchild is surprised by Tod deKindes, who makes a desperation run for the corner, diving at the top turnbuckle and knocking Wildchild’s feet out from under him, crotching on the turnbuckle. DeKindes climbs up the turnbuckles to meet Wildchild and traps him in a front facelock.

 

“Superplex coming up,” shouts Riley.

 

 

WHAAMMM!!

 

Tod grabs Wildchild’s leg with his free arm and pulls him off the turnbuckle, falling backwards and driving the Caribbean Cruiser into the mat with a devastating superplex! The crowd gasps with horror at first, and then begins booing as the referee holds his hands in the air, with three fingers extended on his right hand, and four fingers on his left.

 

----------

WC: 3

TdK: 4

----------

 

“This match has been incredible,” shouts Stevens. “It’s been non-stop from the opening bell! I’ve barely been able to keep up with the action in the ring, but give credit to Tod deKindes, who has proven the value of experience, and has now taken complete command of this match!”

 

“I told you,” crows Riley, “This thing is over! No way Wildchild comes back to win the last two in a row!”

 

DeKindes, however, is unable to immediately capitalize on the superplex, still feeling the effects of the Rocker Dropper and the Falling Star Press. He slowly gets to his feet and walks staggers over to Wildchild, but as he begins to pull his opponent to his feet, the Bahama Bomber stuns him with punch in the bread basket. DeKindes attempts to retaliate with an overhand right, but Wildchild blocks with his left forearm, and then knocks Tod’s head back with a fierce right jab, then a second, and then a third. Wildchild starts to back deKindes into a corner, but Tod stuns him with another timely knee to the midsection. He grabs Wildchild by the arm and whips him towards the opposite corner, but the Bahama Bomber reverses, sending deKindes crashing into the turnbuckles!

 

“Wildchild reverses,” shouts Stevens. “He’s still in the fight!”

 

Wildchild backs into the opposite corner to give himself running room, and then charges out towards his foe, leaping high into the air and twisting to crush him with a Blue Crush!

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But deKindes pulls himself out of the corner at the last possible second, and Wildchild crashes face first into the top turnbuckle.

 

“No,” moans Stevens. “He missed!”

 

Tod deKindes sneaks behind Wildchild as he staggers out of the corner, and reaches up for his head, grabbing one of his arms locking in a kata-hajime choke!

 

“Silent Scream,” shouts Riley. “That’s a wrap! This match is over!”

 

“He can’t win by submission, Bobby,” replies Stevens somberly.

 

“Yeah,” crows Riley, “but deKindes is about to knock him out here! After that, he can hit his fifth move at his leisure… Look at that! He’s got the leg scissors locked in! I told you, it’s over!”

 

Surely enough, Tod drops back to the mat and rolls Wildchild onto his stomach, leaning all of his weight atop Wildchild as he squeezes ever tighter of his choke. Wildchild struggles vainly, but his desperate attempts to escape find no purchase, and the rookie eventually succumbs to the Scream.

 

“He’s out,” bleats Riley triumphantly. “He’s out! Turn out the lights… the party’s over!”

 

Finally relinquishing the hold, Tod rises up from the mat, pointing confidently into the corner. As he steps out onto the ring apron, with his back turned to the ramp, the crowd suddenly breaks into wild cheering. Ignoring this, Tod makes his way towards the corner of the ring, unaware that he’s about to be greeted by an old rival.

 

“Dear God,” cries Stevens. “It’s TNT!”

 

“What the hell is he doing out here,” roars Riley.

 

Taylor runs up behind Tod, grabbing his leg as he begins to climb up the turnbuckles. DeKindes hangs onto the top rope for support and kicks TNT backwards into the ring barricade, but the activity causes the referee to run over to the corner. Tod successfully climbs to the top turnbuckle, but now has to wave the referee out of his flight path. “Get the hell out of the way,” he screams, waving his arm in front of his body.

 

“Somebody needs to fire this referee,” growls Riley. “He’s keeping Tod from winning this match!”

 

Finally, deKindes succeeds in shooing the referee away from him, and prepares to launch himself from the top turnbuckle to deliver an elbow drop. He begins to stand straight up on the turnbuckle, measuring his victim while maintaining he delicate balance, then bends his knees slightly to spring off the top rope onto Wildchild!

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But, before he can complete his maneuver, TNT leaps up onto the ring apron and charges the corner, pushing Tod from behind and launching him over the top rope and outside the ring, where he smacks his face against the ring apron and slumps down to the floor!

 

“Oh my God,” screams Stevens. “TNT just pushed Tod deKindes out of the ring! TNT may have just turned the tide of this match!”

 

“May have,” bellows Riley. “TNT just blatantly interfered in this match, and has had a DIRECT effect on the action! If Tod loses to Wildchild, it will be all TNT’s fault!”

 

Thompson drops down to the arena floor and walks around the ring over to where Tod is lying on the floor. He picks him up and whips him towards the ringpost, but Tod reverses, sending TNT into the post instead! As Thompson staggers backwards away from the post, Tod sneaks up behind him, grabbing his right arm and bringing it down between his legs.

 

“Oh no,” cries Stevens. “It looks like Tod’s going to hit him with the…”

 

WHAAAAAMMM!!!

 

 

“Spirit Breaker,” he continues. “Dear God! He just hit TNT with a Spirit Breaker onto he concrete!”

 

“Serves that bastard right,” crows Riley. “He never should have come down to the ring in the first place!”

 

Tod rolls onto his knees and spits at TNT’s general direction, unaware that Wildchild is no longer unconscious inside the ring, and has slowly started to make a recovery. Still woozy from his fall from the top turnbuckle, deKindes slowly makes his way back onto the ring apron, using the ropes for support to pull himself up. Once upright on the apron, Tod makes the critical mistake of looking back down at TNT for a split second, which allows Wildchild to seize the opportunity, as he races to the corner and leaps onto the top turnbuckle, diving out of the ring and snaring Tod in a front facelock as he passes overhead…

 

 

WHAAAAAMM!!

 

“Tornado DDT,” shouts Stevens. “Wildchild just used the top turnbuckle as a springboard, and flew to the outside, nailing Tod deKindes with a breathtaking Tornado DDT! It’s all even up, now!”

 

 

----------

WC: 4

TdK: 4

----------

 

Both men lay motionless on the arena floor, Wildchild still feeling the effects of the Silent Scream, and Tod dazed after two consecutive big impacts to his face. TNT, meanwhile, has since managed to regain consciousness, and has crawled over to the steel stairs, using them as a prop to get back to his feet.

 

“Get the hell out of here, Thompson,” Riley bellows at TNT. “You’ve already caused enough trouble in this match!”

 

Thompson, on the other hand, doesn’t appear to believe that he’s caused nearly enough trouble, as he walks over to Wildchild, helps him get to his feet, and assists him in rolling underneath the ring.

 

 

DING!

 

TNT walks over to deKindes to toss him into the ring as well, but Tod surprises him with a punch to the groin! Thompson staggers back against the ring barricade in pain as deKindes crawls over to the ring apron and pulls himself to his feet.

 

“Hah,” snorts Riley. “TNT got just what he deserved there!”

 

Tod climbs back onto the ring apron, this time being especially mindful of where Wildchild is in the ring. He grabs onto the top rope, preparing to launch himself onto the top rope and springboard into the ring, sure to win the match with a springboard missile dropkick!

 

 

 

… But so preoccupied is Tod with his opponent in the ring, that he fails to notice TNT recover behind him, and grab his leg!

 

“Dammit,” roars Riley, “somebody get him the hell out of here!” Tod rears his leg back to kick TNT in the head, but Thompson not only dodges the kick, but also grabs deKindes’ other leg, pulling him off the ring apron and catching him in a seated position on his shoulders!

 

“TNT’s got deKindes trapped,” cries Stevens. “DeKindes is helpless!”

 

Wildchild rolls onto his knees in the ring and sees Tod trapped on TNT’s shoulders. His eyes widen and his face breaks into a wide grin in a sudden burst of inspiration, and he bounces to his feet, racing back against the ropes to build up speed, and charging back towards TNT and the helpless deKindes.

 

“My God,” shouts Stevens, “Wildchild’s gonna fly!”

 

 

SPLAAAASH!!!

 

Wildchild dashes towards the ropes and leaps high into the air, landing on the top rope, and springing off, somersaulting through the air and crashing into Tod deKindes with a sensational springboard mortal!

 

----------

WC: 5

TdK: 4

----------

 

“Whatamaneuver,” screams Stevens. “What an unbelievable springboard somersault splash to the outside onto Tod deKindes!”

 

“That he couldn’t have hit without TNT’s help,” grumbles Riley. “TNT cost Tod deKindes this match! TWICE!”

 

The referee orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, and “The Everlasting Gaze” begins to blasts throughout out the arena. From ringside, Funyon rises from his seat to speak into the microphone. “Here is your winner, the Wiiiiildchiiiiild!”

 

The crowd goes bananas as TNT helps Wildchild back to his feet and escorts him back up the ramp, pausing to raise the rookie’s hand in victory as Funyon makes his official announcement.

 

“We’re going to take a break,” says Stevens, “and I’m going to try to catch my breath after calling that match! We’ve got lots more great SWF action coming up, folks! Don’t you dare go ‘way!”

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[Guest Suicide King]

Fade in on the Boston Strangler once again standing in front of Tom Flesher’s locker room. This time, there’s no need to bust the door down, as Flesher has graciously left the door open a crack. Strangler opens the door, and Tom Flesher stands in front of him – belt on the floor, warmup suit hanging in the locker, and Tom still in street clothes standing by the door to the connected locker room.

 

“Can I help you, Albert?”

 

“You know why I’m here.”

 

Flesher stares at him calmly. “You didn’t prove anything last week.”

 

“You walked out.”

 

“… of a non-title match, my good man.” Flesher shrugs. “That result means nothing in the long run. I’ve still had four successful defenses. One more and I tie Edwin’s record. One more after that and I break it. So tell me, Albert, do you really want to be one of those?”

 

Strangler stares at Flesher angrily and repeats, “You… walked… out.”

 

“Fine, fine,” says Flesher with a sigh. “You want a match, go take it up with Brian and HE can tell you all the reasons you’re not qualified.”

 

“I’m not leaving here until I get a match with you at 13th Hour.”

 

Flesher rolls his eyes. “So you’re just going to try to smoke me out, eh? Filibuster me? Oh, right, you don’t know any words over two syllables… those are the one-sound things, by the way. Just so you know.”

 

“Cut the crap, Flesher.”

 

“Oh, FINE.”

 

Flesher sighs, walks to the door, and opens it. William Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki come raging out of the locker room, and charge at Strangler! He picks Ejiro up and slams him into the locker, but Hearford grabs him from behind and clocks him with a stiff elbow to the back of the head! Strangler staggers as Ejiro dusts himself off, then nails him with a Screaming Elbow! Hearford drags Strangler out to the hall and bends him over in a standing headscissors. He lifts TBS into the air for a power bomb, and Ejiro grabs him in a reverse facelock, then spins out with a test drive to finish off the Gavel BANG~! Strangler’s head hits the floor with a sickening THUD sound, and Flesher comes out to applaud his stablemates.

 

“Guys, that was wonderful,” he says. “Now go find Janus. You’ve got a match tonight.”

 

Hearford and Ejiro walk back into the locker room. Flesher starts to follow, but murmurs, “I could use a cup of coffee.” He walks over Strangler’s body, making sure to scrape his boot across the giant New Englander’s face, and struts contentedly down the hall.

[Guest Suicide King]

The camera fades back in to the image of the jam packed arena, as the fans are one their feet waiting for the next match.

 

Stevens: Coming up know, we've got a match that won't just be intense, it'll probably be a Match Of The Year Candidate, and one of the most brutal straight rules matches ever.

 

Riley: As much as I hate some of the guys involved in this one, it's going to rock for sure Mark. And if it gives the chances for a few blows to be landed in the right places, all the better.

 

Stevens: Well, let's get on with it, I don't think the fans are in the mood to wait.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match will be a Six Man Tag Match for One Fall!

 

YYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

Riley: Listen to that crowd, you'd think they'd seen me naked.

 

Funyon: Firstly, at a combined weight of four hundred and thirty pounds ..SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS ... JUSTICE AND RULE!

 

Sleep Now In The Fire blears out across the crowds as the first huge wave of booing rises up.

 

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP!

 

A string of red machine gun pyro lights up the ram as the Tag Team Champs strut their way out onto the top of the ramp. Throwing off their Mag7 jerseys, the pair hand their Title Belts over the ring crew at the top of the ramp.

 

Funyon: And their tag team partner, weighing in at three hundred and fifty pounds .. THE HEEL MACHINE ..JANUS!

 

Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave..

Life that's slipping AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!"

 

Resurrection screams into life as another huge wave of boos rolls out across the arena, filling it up. Stepping out to a wall of blue pyro, the giant lights his arms up in the air and lights up the whole ramp with a blaze of pro.

 

YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!

 

Judge and Ejiro flank Janus from either side to prevent him from charging down into the back and beating up everyone in his way to get at Kibagami. Slowly, they lead him down to the ring, and all three men wait impatiently in the ring, staring a hole in the entrance way.

Funyon: Their opponents, firstly, with a combined weight of four hundred and ninety seven pounds .. THE SWF HGC AND ICTV CHAMPIONS ... DANNY WILLIAMS AND DACE NIGHT!"

 

The entrance way is filled with smoke and red laser light as the PA roars into life.

 

LET FREEDOM RING WITH A SHOTGUN BLAST!

 

As a burst of pyro lights up the entrance way, followed by red strobe lights, Danny and Dace make their way out under the lights. Saluting the crowd with their fists in the air. They hand over their respective titles to the ring crew.

 

The arena drops into total darkness as a hush takes over the crowd. The house lights come back up red as a familiar tune of Forty Six and Two rings out.

 

The lights go up with a burst of pyro as the fans explode. Nathaniel Kibagami strides out to join his team mates at the top of the ramp, as the whole crowd chants his name.

 

KIBAGAMI! KIBAGAMI! KIBAGAMI! DAN-E! BOOM! BOOM! DACE F'N' NIGHT

 

Stevens: Listen to the crowd Riley, they're going insane, and the match hasn't even started yet. This one is going to be white hot.

 

Riley: And red rated. Theses guys are going to spill some blood. Janus is going to rip Kibagami to pieces if he gets hold of him in this one.

 

Standing in the middle of Deathwish and Horrorcore, Nathaniel climbs onto the apron and steps into the ring.

 

The two teams stare at each other from across the ring, intense hatred burning for one reason or another. Janus points across the ring at Kibagami and motions the snapping of a neck. Dace grabs him by the shoulder to stop him lunging across the ring at Janus.

 

Danny and Judge force Kibagami and Janus back into their respective corners as Night and Fasaki square up in the middle of the ring.

 

DING, DING, DING!

 

Stevens: Here we go, this is it.

 

Riley: Come on, crush them all, these three need to learn a lesson.

 

Rule drops to his knees and darts between the Goth's legs. Twisting round to follow him, Dace lashes out with a Elbow Smash that meets with a twin from Ejiro, in mid air.

CRACK!

 

Ejiro rolls through the connecting blows with a Reverse Spinning Heel Kick, sending his foot slamming towards Horrorcore's face, but Night ducks and catches the Tag Champ as he spins round. Locking his arms, Dace snaps his body over backwards with German Suplex.

 

OOOOHHHHHH!

 

But Fasaki flips out and manages to land on his feet rather than on his neck. Sprinting back towards Dace, he leaps into the air and hammers both feet into the Goth's jaw with a surprise Dropkick.

 

Stevens: Ejiro gets first blood with that Dropkick!

 

Rolling through with his speed, Ejiro bounds off the ropes and charges at the rising Dace, sending his knee forwards. Right into the strong hands of the HGC Champion. Surging forwards, Dace ploughs Ejiro down into the mat with a Double Leg Takedown.

 

Pulling Ejiro to his feet, Dace rams a knee up into his chest a few times before dragging him across into his corner. Reaching out backwards, he slaps hands with Williams, to the sigh of the crowd that wanted to see Kibagami tag in.

 

Dace hammers home one last Knee Strike before Williams takes over, grabbing hold of Rule, scooping him up before slamming him back down the ring canvas. As a slight measure of revenge, Danny drops a knee right into the middle of Ejiro's forehead.

 

OOOOHHHH!

 

Dragging Rule onto his feet, Deathwish whips his off into the ropes, but Fasaki keep his grip, suddenly digging his heels into the mat and twists, sending Danny flying off towards the ropes instead. Not breaking his stride, Danny charges back at full steam, elbow wound back.

 

Stevens: Ruuunnniiinnngggg Elllbbboooowww!

 

SWOSH!

 

Ejiro ducks the massive Elbow Smash, reaching back, he grabs Williams' head and yanks him down to the mat with a Neckbreaker in one fluid motion.

 

BBBOOOOOOO!

 

Riley: These people don't understand the great skill of someone like Ejiro Fasaki.

 

Moving back into his corner, Ejiro tags out to Judge. Even as Danny gets back to his feet, the pair flatten him with a Double Clothesline. On the apron, Dace winces and shouts encouragement to his stablemate.

Using Danny's arm to pick him up, Judge starts to unload on his with a series of Knife Edge Chops.

 

SMACK! WOOO!

 

SMACK! WOOO!

 

SMACK! WOOO!

 

Slamming a boot into Deathwish's gut, Justice spikes him back to the mat with a DDT, rolling over into the first cover of the match up.

 

......ONE!

 

...Kickout!

 

Judge keeps a hold of Danny's arm, turning it over into an Arm Wringer even as he forces William's back onto his feet. Spinning to his side, Mental hooks his around arm William's head for a Side Russian Leg Sweep.

 

Danny reaches out and grabs the ropes to break up the move, but Judge just lets go and nails a Clotheslines into Danny's chest, sending him rocking. Whipping the ICTV Champ off the ropes, Mental catches him and snaps him over with a quick Powerslam, hold on for a cover.

 

......ONE!

 

..NO!

 

Dace dives through the ropes and across the ring, dropping his clenched fists into the back of Mental.

 

Stevens: Dace isn't going to let this turn out like the last time he and Danny faced Justice and Rule, he won't let Danny do it all on his own.

 

Riley: Well, it saves him getting his ass kicked by these three great guys on the other team you know. But someone please get Kibagami in the ring so Janus can kill him.

 

The Tag Champ shakes himself off quickly and applies a clinching Side Headlock to Danny Williams. Even as he does Danny starts to open out with Elbow Smashes, hammering the backs into Judge's ribs.

 

Releasing the hold, Mental hurls himself into the ropes for some room to move. Snaking his arm out, Williams doesn't have time to fire off an Elbow Smash, but he can lock his arms in a Sleeper Hold.

 

OOOOHHHH!

Judge Mental isn't one to be trapped so easily, and even as Danny locks the hold in, he steps his body backwards, turning the hold. Reaching out, he clamps his arms around Danny's waist and bridging himself over backwards, sends Williams crashing into the mat with a Backdrop Suplex.

 

Back on his feet, Judge locks his arms around Williams' legs and quickly rolls him over into a Boston Crab. Gritting his teeth at the feeling of his spine being bent far to much in the wrong sort of way, Williams forces himself up onto his arms and tries to drag himself and Judge into his corner.

 

Riley: Poor Danny, when is he going to realise, that he's now match for the Superior work of Justice and Rule. It's not like he's going to make to Dace Night to tag out anyway, what's he going to do, tag in that cripple?

 

Nathaniel is already leaning over the ropes as far as the tag ropes will let him as Dace yells on, and keeps an watching eye across the ring on Ejiro and Janus.

 

Danny crawls, pulling Judge along like an Caravan behind him. With Soapdish looking on in clear view, Judge can't grab the ropes to stop the advance. Reaching out, Deathwish strains hard, trying to tag Kibagami, a little more, just a little...

 

SLAP!

 

YYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

Stevens: Danny tags out to Kibagami!

 

Judge whirls round just in time to catch a Palm Strike to the face. Reeling backwards, Judge tries to escape as Nathaniel opens fire with a barrage of lethal kicks to the chest and head.

 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

 

Taking a step back to measure his opponent, Kibagami leaps into the air and drives the front of his foot into Mental's face, dropping him to the mat like a sac of bricks.

 

Stevens: GAMENGIRI!

 

Janus has one leg over the ropes, even as Ejiro vainly tries to hold him back. Even as the fans roar on for him, Kibagami steps back into his corner and tags out to Dace, stopping the Heel Machine from coming after him in the ring.

 

Riley: Pffft. Look at the coward, running away from Janus, he's afraid, Mark, that's what he is, he's afraid.

 

Even as Dace eyes Janus through the scars on his face, he turns back to Judge Mental, hauling the older man onto his feet. Scooping him up, Dace turns to face across the ring, and holding Judge over one shoulder, motions his thumb downwards to the mat. Locking his arm, he brings Judge forwards.

Frantically kicking his legs, Justice tries to fight out of the Tombstone Piledriver. Using his hands to push off Dace's chest, he drops behind his back, still trying to shake his head out after the assault of kicks.

 

Swinging round, Dace lunges at Judge, arm extended, but Judge lunges forwards as well, but foot first, slamming it into Night's jaw.

 

SMACK!

 

Stevens: Superkick! Dace goes down, but so does Judge!

 

Riley: Ejiro, Janus come on, distract the ref, get in their and cheat like you're paid to, damn it!

 

Judge reaches for his corner, looking for the tag. Being far bigger that Ejiro, the Heel Machine leans right over and slaps Justice's hand before he can even realise it. Climbing over the ropes, Janus looks right past the ring and to Nathaniel Kibagami on the apron.

 

RRRRAAAAAHHHHHH!

 

Stevens: Here comes Janus! Things are about to get ugly in there, Riley!

 

Riley: Don't I know it. You think we can get some slow-motion replays of it?

 

The Hell Machine charges across the ring, completely ignoring the Hardcore champion in favour of blasting Kibagami with a stiff boot to the face! The crowd boos as Janus turns, hesitantly, back to Dace Night, who lies prone on the canvas. Without missing a step, Janus hauls the champion to his feet, wraps his massive arms around him, and lifts the high priest of Horrorcore into the air with the Hell Crush! Dace struggles valiantly, but Janus is too strong for even the Hardcore champion to budge him! Night's struggles begin to slow as the massive Janus squeezes ever tighter...

 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

 

Janus grunts in surprise and releases his grip on Dace as Kibagami's boot buries itself in the small of the big man's back! The Minnesota fans pop big as Nathaniel calmly steps back through the ropes at the referee's request, leaving an enraged and confused Janus in the ring, with no way to reach Kibagami.

 

Stevens: Smart move by Nathaniel there, allowing Dace some breathing room and avoiding any more contact with Janus than absolutely necessary.

 

Riley: Christ, Mark, stop making him sound so intelligent - all he's doing is avoiding a fight he can't win. He's just worried about sticking his neck out too far for Dace, in more ways than one.

 

Janus starts towards the opposing team's corner, where Kibagami stands smirking, but a heated admonishment from referee Soapdish halts the giant's advance. Instead, he turns his attention back to Dace, picking the Hardcore champion up from the mat and whipping him hard toward Justice and Rule's corner.

 

Stevens: No love is lost between these two; if you'll recall, Dace won the Hardcore title from Janus just a few weeks ago.

 

Riley: It was a fluke, I tell you. A fluke!

 

Stevens: I'm sure. Those light tubes just happened to be there, right?

 

Janus approaches Dace, murder in his eyes...only for Ejiro Fasaki to slap the giant's shoulder and tag himself in! A few heated words are exchanged between the members of the Magnificent Seven before the Hell Machine steps back over the ropes into the M7's corner. Fasaki turns his attentions to Dace Night...

 

SLAP! WHOOOO!

 

SLAP! WHOOOO!

 

SLAP! WHOOOO!

 

SLAP! WHOOOO!

 

Stevens: I can hear those chops from here!

 

Riley: Of course you can, Mark. Justice and Rule take their cues from the World champion. Even the simplest move is effective when applied by Justice and Rule.

 

The referee motions to Ejiro to bring Dace out of the corner, so Fasaki complies, applying a Wristlock to the high priest of Horrorcore and pulling him out into the centre of the ring. Ejiro throws a leg over Dace's shoulder and leaps into the air, bringing the Hardcore champion crashing shoulder-first into the canvas with the Fasaki Fuser. The crowd boos Ejiro as he rolls Night over for the pin...

 

......ONE!

 

......TWO!

 

Dace easily kicks out, getting a small pop from the fans at ringside as he does so.

 

Stevens: Fasaki knows it's going to take more than that to take the Hardcore champion down.

 

Riley: Exactly, it's going to take Justice and Rule to do it. Watch and learn, Mark, watch and learn.

Sure enough, Fasaki rises to his feet and walks back to the Magnificent Seven's corner to tag in Judge Mental. Hearford ignores the crowd's reaction to Ejiro's perceived cowardice and rushes to the centre of the ring, raining stomps down on Dace's right shoulder.

 

Riley: He goes right to work on that arm, Stevens! It's like clockwork, almost.

 

Pulling Night's right arm back, Hearford locks it under his armpit, forcing the shoulder and elbow joints backwards, adding further pressure onto the arm. Jamming a knee into the small of the Goth's back, Judge tries to pin Dace down and stretch him out.

 

Stevens: Now Judge is working over that shoulder, stretching out the joints.

 

Rather than trying to crawl to the ropes, Dace tucks his free left arm under his body and starts to force his upper body up from the mat, even under the weight and force of Judge Mental. Gritting his teeth against the tearing feeling in his shoulder, Dace Night pulls his legs up under his body.

 

Riley: What the hell is he trying to do, imitate a turtle?

 

Mental wrenches back with all his weight, but even as he does so, Dace pushes down with all his free limbs, using sheer strength to roll himself and The Judge over.

 

YYAAAAHHHH!

 

Scrambling over on top of Judge, Dace fires off random and untargeted Elbow Smashes with his left arm, just trying to keep Judge Mental distracted and down on the mat while he recovers.

 

Stevens: The Hardcore Champ manages to escape the Armbar, and just uses the shotgun effect of blind elbows to keep the Tag Champ down.

 

Dragging himself onto his feet, Dace drops straight back down slamming both his knees into Judge's chest, causing him to exhale sharply with an 'ohhff'. Rubbing his sore arm, trying to get the blood flowing back into it, Night looks down to see Justice back on his feet already.

 

Surging forwards, Horrorcore slams all his body weight forwards in an effort to tackle Judge down. Side stepping, Judge smoothly hammers a knee into the younger wrestler's chest, dropping him back to the ring canvas.

 

OOOOHHHHHHH!

 

Riley: That'll teach him just to run away when you're in the ring with William Hearford.

 

Stevens: Maybe Bobby, but then again, if he'd gone to tag out, he might have been taken from behind and pinned back down.

 

Riley: Ohhh.. Mark, I do say.

Taking a hand full of hair, Judge yanks Dace into a barely standing vertical base to a chorus of boos from across the crowd. Once again pulling back the arm and locking it under his head, Judge slings his leg across Night's hip, trapping him in an Abdominal Stretch.

 

BBBBBOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Riley: This is it Mark. Judge is going to wear him out with his hold. If it doesn't finish him off right now, there's no way he'll be able to survive whatever comes after it.

 

Keeping one key on the closest set of ropes, Mental presses his free hand down on the side of Horrorcore's neck, forcing his head down and his shoulder even further back even as Dace starts to lash and writhe, trying to gain a hold of Justice or just power out of the submission altogether.

 

Stevens: That hand on the side of the neck is going to be compressing the arteries supplying the brain. I doubt it'll be enough to work like a Sleeper, but it's not going to help Dace Night's situation at all.

 

Soapdish steps in, checking on Dace even as he grits his teeth and curses heavily at Judge and the ref, telling Soapdish where he can shove his tap outs.

 

Across the ring Kibagami and Danny Williams slam their fists into the top turnbuckles, starting a roar from the crowd as they yell to their younger team mate. Janus glares across the ring, his eyes locked on Kibagami, almost cutting a hole through him, not even looking at the action in the ring.

 

Riley: I think Janus is zoning out, this is gonna get even more interesting right now.

 

Swinging on huge leg over the top rope, Janus lumbers across the ring towards Nathaniel..

 

Stevens: Janus has lost it for no reason, he's going after the man he wants to kill so much.

 

Sprinting across the ring, Soapdish slides himself in Janus' path an yells stern orders at him to get back into his corner or risk getting his whole team DQed. Even as one wave of jeering dies down another wave erupts as Ejiro makes his presents felt.

 

Stepping into the ring, Fasaki grabs the ropes with one hand, the barred arm of Dace with the other, then leans out with his foot and plants it firmly into Night's ribs trying to tear him apart.

 

Stevens: I should have know it, I really should have. Now Ejiro his getting his hands dirty on that submission hold.

 

Riley: Brilliant, it's truly brilliant, Janus uses his anger to distract the ref, while Justice and Rule work over Dace like they should do.

 

Williams and Kibagami duck into the ring, not standing for the tactics of the Mag Seven any more, but before they can make their present felt, Janus gives up his efforts to get past Soapdish and backs off, leaving him room to yell at Dace's team mates to get back into their corner.

 

Ejiro Fasaki hammers in a parting kick to the ribs of Dace before slipping back into his corner, calmly looking like he's berating Janus for his actions. Judge unhooks his leg and drags the gasping Hardcore Champ into his corner.

 

Motioning to the battered Brummie, Judge extends his hand as Janus smoothly reaches out and slaps it.

 

Riley: Bye bye Dace, can't say I'm going to miss you at all.

 

BBBOOOOOOOO!

 

The Heel Machine takes the Goth by the arm, whipping him away, but holds on and drags him back in, his arms wide for a deadly bear hug.

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

Stevens: Yakuza Kick!

 

Janus is driven off his feet and to the mat, clutching at his chest as Dace Night topples beside him, trying to catch any breath at all.

 

Riley: Please, it won't do him any good at all. He's still right by the M7 corner, and here's no way he's going to get into fighting shape before Janus gets back up or Justice and Rule take care of him themselves.

 

His back sore, his arm sore, his damn body sore, Dace begins painfully crawling on his hands and knees, making his way to the salvation of his corner. Just when it seems he’s making some progress, Janus latches on to his foot, trying to hold Dace in place. Refusing to be denied, Dace thrusts his free leg back, kicking Janus flush in the mouth! Janus releases Dace’s leg, and the crowd erupts as he starts clawing his way to his corner uncontested. Not going down without a fight, Mental comes lumbering into the ring, picking up some steam as he makes his way towards Danny Williams, who is minding his own business on the apron! Mental shoves out his huge shoulder with intentions of knocking the ICTV Champ off the apron,....

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

instead he runs right into a devastating Elbow Smash! Mental hits the mat like a sack of bricks, the only movements he can muster is a sluggish roll to the outside of the ring.

 

Stevens: DEAR GOD! Mental was looking to stop the tag by taking out Danny, but I’d say that plan backfired big time!

 

Riley: Don’t worry, I’m sure Justice and Rule have a plan B.

 

The crowd’s volume increases ten fold as Dace is now within arm’s reach, Kibagami leans forward with the tag rope in one hand, and his other extended for the tag. Not wanting all that arm work to go waste, Ejiro openly enters the ring, and begins tugging on Janus’ arm, trying to drag the big man a little closer so he can tag himself in.

 

Riley: I told you they had a plan B.

 

Stevens: That looks more like an audible than an actual plan, I seriously doubt Ejiro is gonna drag Janus’s huge ass with tag reach.

 

But Ejiro doesn’t need to as all that tugging on his arm has awoken the sleepy giant, who with Ejiro guiding him like a blind man’s dog, begins crawling to his corner. Soapdish is too busy watching Dace make the tag to care! The crowd goes into a frenzy as a fired up Kibagami springs into the ring, ready for action! Meanwhile, Ejiro steps out on to the apron, and slaps hands with Janus! Putting on his best battle face, Ejiro leaps into the ring, and rushes out to Kibagami, looking to greet him in the center of the ring! But Kibagami just jogs around him as if he doesn’t exist, heading straight for Janus!

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

Kibagami blows Janus off the ring apron with a particularly nasty Yakuza Kick! The big man drops back into the guardrail, scaring the living hell out of the front roll fans, causing their lives to pass before their eyes!

 

CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!

 

Stevens: Kibagami has no allegiance to the Unholy Trinity, he has no beef with Ejiro and Mental, he just want’s Janus!

 

Riley: What a retard, all I can say is that Danny Williams and Dace better pray Vai’aga get’s his ass bumped sometime soon.

 

Despite Soapdish’s request for him to concentrate on the legal man, Kibagami climbs out after Janus, finding him seated on the floor in a bit of a stupor. Showing no mercy for his hated adversary, Kib begins firing off roundhouse kicks at Janus’ head, grotesquely bobbing his head around! Loving every second of it, the crowd starts to chant....

 

“KIB-A-GAMI! KIB-A-GAMI! KIB-A-GAMI!”

 

Having enough of this nonsense, Ejiro slips out of the ring, sneaks up behind Kibagami, and....

 

CRAAAAAAAACK!

 

slams an elbow into the back of his head! Ejiro drags Kibagami to his feet, and rolls him back into the ring for further abuse.

 

Riley: And Kibagami’s selfish quest for revenge has cost him dearly.

 

Ejiro yanks Kibagami up by his tights, ducks his head under his armpit, and snaps back!

 

CRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNCH!

 

Kibagami lands at a sickening high angle, and Ejiro sees to he stays that way, holding him in place with a beautiful bridge!

 

Stevens: BRIDGING BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKDROP!

 

Riley: HE’S GOT HIM, STEVENS! THIS ONE IS OVER!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Williams breaks up the bridge with a stomp to Ejiro’s exposed abdomen! His mission accomplished, Williams starts to walk back to his corner, when all of a sudden, Ejiro ambushes him with a flurry of elbow smashes!

 

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

His brain rattled out of place, Danny drops to the mat, holding his head and wincing! Looking for some payback, Dace comes clumsily charging in, extending his foot for a high kick....

 

 

Riley: DACE, LOOKING FOR A CHEAP SHOT!

 

but Ejiro catches his boot, and spins around....

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

cleaning Dace’s clock with a sharp, spinning, reverse elbow!

 

Stevens: SCREAMING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

 

With the Unholy duo out of the way, Ejiro stands over Kibagami’s corpse, and signals that’s all over!

 

Riley: Would you believe, the smallest damn guy in the match is gonna take home all the glory!

 

Ejiro reaches down, grabs Kibagami by the hair, and helps him to his feet! Suddenly, Kibagami swats off his hands, leaps straight up into the air like he has springs in his boots, and kicks Ejiro flush in the face with a Roundhouse Kick!

 

Stevens: GAMENGIRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!

 

Both men go down, and the crowd gives a standing ovation! Williams shakes off the effects of the elbows, gets back into position on the apron, Janus is also back into position, but Mental and Dace are still both out on the floor. Still drowsy from the head drop, Kibagami rolls to his corner, and touches hands with Danny! The crowd blows the roof off the place as Williams makes his long awaited return to the ring, looking down at Ejiro with a sadistic grin on his face. Danny yanks Ejiro up by his hair, and drives him into the ropes with a some mean spirited Elbow Smashes!

 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

 

Williams shoots the dazed tag champ off the ropes, catching him in the center of the ring with a Judo Throw! Williams keeps hold of Ejiro’s arm, and drops back for the Cross Armbreaker, drawing a mega pop from the crowd!

 

Stevens: DANNY, LOCKING ON THE JUJI-GATAME! PERHAPS PAYBACK FOR ALL THE ARM WORK THAT EJIRO HAS INFLICTED ON THE UNHOLY TRINITY AS OF LATE!

 

Dace is back up in the corner, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Ejiro squirming! This happy moment doesn’t last long as Mental comes flying into the ring out of nowhere! Wearing his more scariest and intimidating face, Mental starts sadistically dropping knees on Danny’s forehead!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

A satisfied smile on his face, Mental struts back to his corner, almost encouraging the crowd to “boo” him even more. Suffering from a killer head ache, Danny releases Ejiro’s mangled arm, and rolls back to his corner.

 

Stevens: The Judge getting a little revenge himself.

 

Riley: That’s not vengeance, that’s JUSTICE!

 

Looking for some payback, Dace is more than willing to smack hands with his sore headed partner, tagging himself in. The crowd combusts into cheers as a still weary but pumped up Dace Night steps through the ropes, making his way over to Ejiro, who is attempting to climb back to his feet. Dace grabs Ejiro by the hair, assisting him in his quest to a vertical base. Suddenly, Fasaki swats Dace’s hands off, and spins clockwise....

 

Crack!

 

slamming his elbow into Dace’s temple!

 

Stevens: SCREAMING ELBOW!

 

Ejiro cries out pain, grabbing his arm, while Dace barely even wobbles.

 

Riley: But it looks like Ejiro done more damage to himself than he did to Dace!

 

Stevens: He spent a lot of time in that Juji-Gatame, no telling how much damage has been done.

 

Clutching his arm, Ejiro staggers towards his corner, but Dace secures him with a tight rear waistlock! The crowd pops like crazy as Dace violently snaps back, throwing Ejiro over head!

 

CRUNCH!

 

Ejiro lands grotesquely on the back of his skull, the momentum carrying him all the way over on his belly!

 

Stevens: DANGEROUS GERMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!

 

Despite getting dumped on his dome, Ejiro somehow musters enough power to climb back to his feet!

 

Riley: BUT HE’S UP, Now that’s a Champion that kids should look up to!

 

Not impressed, Dace explodes forward......

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

taking Ejiro’s head off with a sickening Yakuza Kick, that sends him back flipping to the mat!

 

Stevens: HE’S DOWN NOW!

 

Moving with a sense of urgency, Dace rolls Ejiro over, and hooks a limp leg for the pin. The hot crowd, enthusiastically counts along!

 

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mental comes storming into the ring, breaking up the pin with a double axe handle to Dace’s back!

 

“Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

 

Stevens: AND MENTAL MAKES THE SAVE!

 

Riley: And that’s what tag partners are for, Stevens.

 

Pissed over the knee drops, Williams rushes into the ring after Mental, catching him as he gets up with an assault of Elbow Smashes! Having scrambled Mental’s brains, Danny ducks down behin him, and grabs a Sleeperhold!

 

Stevens: Danny, looking to take Mental out of the equation, giving Dace a fair chance at putting Ejiro away!

 

Mental fights with all his might to get out of the hold, but Williams drops back, hooking his legs around his waist, dragging him down to the mat! Not one to be trapped so easily, Mental rolls out of the ring like a log tumbling down a steep hill, with Danny still mounted on his back! Mental tumbles off the ring apron, pan caking Danny on the floor!

 

Riley: Nice counter by the Judge, is there anything that man cannot do!

 

A little drowsy, Mental remains on the floor as well, trying to desperately wake himself up. Meanwhile, Dace climbs back to his feet, only to have a huge hand clamp down on his throat!

 

Smack!

 

Riley: Mental may be out of the equation, but Janus sure as hell an’t!

 

Without warning, Kibagami springs into the ring, charging at Janus! Thinking fast, Janus shoves Dace into Kibagami with a throat toss, knocking his foe back into the turnbuckles! Dazed and confused, Dace comes staggering right back at Janus, who once again, grabs him by the wind pipe!

 

Stevens: JANUS, TRYING THE CHOKESLAM AGAIN!

 

That massive hand belongs to none other than Janus, who with frightening ease, lifts Dace’s huge frame off the mat to the “ohs” and “ahs” of the crowd!

 

Riley: HE’S GOT HIM UP, WHAT UNBELIEVABLE POWER!

 

Resilient as always, Dace shifts his weight back down to the mat, dropping to his knees, and taking Janus over with a surprise Armdrag! Dace wobbles back to his feet, but Janus is already up, and charging, his head tucked deep into his chin!

 

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

Janus breaks Dace in half with a nasty Spear that draws a collective “oh” from the crowd!

 

Stevens: GORE! GORE! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!

 

Noticing Kibagami staggering out of the corner, Janus digs his boot into the mat like a bull, and charges once more.....

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

 

diving head first into a Gamengiri!

 

Stevens: OH MY GOD!

 

Riley: I NEVER HEARD A MAN’S SKULL MAKE A SOUND LIKE THAT!

 

As Janus crumbles to a heap on the mat, Kibagami notices that Ejiro is finally wobbling to his feet! Kibagami pushes Soapdish aside, who has been trying to get control back for some time now, and spins at Ejiro like a discus thrower...........

 

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOW-NO!

 

Ejiro gets an arm up, blocking it! Before Kibagami knows what hit him, Ejiro spins him down into a double underhook, lifts him up, and sits down!

 

CRUUUUUUUUUUUUUNCH!

 

spiking the top of his head into the mat!

 

Stevens: EJIROCUTIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!

 

His confidence and strength somewhat returned, Ejiro drags the still immobilized Hardcore Champion to his feet, securing his arms with a double underhook as well!

 

Riley: AND NOW DACE WILL SHARE KIBAGAMI’S FATE!

 

Sweat dripping off his chin, Ejiro takes a couple of deep breaths and lifts, but Dace wisely sand bags in the nick of the time! To focused and smart to play this game, Ejiro releases the double underhook, and takes Dace to the mat with an Armbar Takedown out of nowhere!

 

Stevens: EJIRO, SETTING DACE UP FOR THE COBRA CROSS FACE!

 

But before Ejiro can scissor his arm, Dace suavely rolls forward, slipping out of his clutches! Dace quickly secures the kneeling Ejiro in a front facelock, but instead up pressing his huge bicep against his face, Dace puts the pressure under his chin!

 

Stevens: NO, DACE REVERSED IT INTO THE FRONT FACELOCK CHOKE!

 

Riley: A choke, that’s illegal dammit!

 

Stevens: Not literally a choke, Riley, it’s more like a Sleeperhold, only done a sprawl, in fact it’s actually more effective than a Sleeperhold!

 

Ejiro tries to push his way to a vertical base, but Dace lays flat on the mat, blocking that escape route! Clinging to the gift of consciousness, Ejiro starts scratching and clawing at Dace’s arms, in hopes of escape, but Horrorcore doesn’t budge! Ejiro starts to fade, and fast, sensing the end is near the crowd starts to heat up! All of a sudden, Mental bolts into the ring, breaking up the facelock submission with a snapping elbow drop!

 

Riley: I knew Mental wouldn’t let his partner fall to a damn facelock!

 

However, Williams also comes flying back into the ring, literally! Soaring off the top rope, Danny slams a Jumping Elbow Smash into the back of Mental’s skull, sending him plummeting to the mat!

 

Stevens: ENZUI DIVING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

 

Danny frantically secures Mental in a Doushime Sleeper, while Dace sucks up the pain in his back, and reapplies the front facelock choke to Ejiro! This doesn’t last long, as now it is Janus who breaks up the submission attempt with a big elbow drop! Janus lingers back to his feet, eyeing Dace up for another elbow drop, when...

 

CRAAAAAAAAACK!

 

Kibagami knocks him silly with an Enzugiri! Janus drops to one knee, allowing Kibagami to grab his arm, and drop back with the Triangle Choke! Once more, Dace clamps on the front facelock, squeezing Ejiro’s neck with all his might, pushing the blood out of his brain! Standing and giving a constant pop, the crowd watches on in astonishment as all three M7 members are trapped in deadly submission holds!

 

Stevens: AND EJIRO HAS NO ONE LEFT TO SAVE HIM, IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME NOW!

 

Riley: I DON’T LIKE THIS ONE BIT, SOAPDISH IS THE WORST DAMN OFFICIAL IN THE FED!

 

Now working stress free, Dace starts really working the hold, kicking his legs off the mat, and nearly doing handstand as he pushes the last pint of blood out of Ejiro’s head! No longer a matter of pain, but a matter of life or death, Ejiro starts tapping the mat!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Stevens: IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER!

 

The crowd nearly has a riot, drowning out Funyon’s official work with rabid cheers and screams! All three men release their submission holds, and roll over on their backs, exhausted and sore!

 

Stevens: Incredible match, non stop action, all the way through!

 

Riley: Bah, it was the three man stip that got in the way. Williams and Dace won’t be able to do that in a regular tag match to Justice and Rule, I guarantee it.

 

Stevens: True, Danny and Dace have yet to prove that they can beat Justice and Rule in a standard tag match, but they have indeed made in important step in reaching that goal. Stay tuned fans, more exciting SWF action is come!

[Guest Suicide King]

SWF Smarkdown returns from a commercial hawking the new SWF video game (“New Unlockable Character: Johnny Rotten, complete with ‘sloppy bladejob’ taunt”) and the camera pans across the sold-out Target Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota! Fans are shown holding up signs including “License to Thrill,” “TBS/JD: The Battle To See Who Jobs,” and “It’s Only A Short Drive To The Kingdome!” Finally, the camera settles on “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley, sitting at their table just next to the ring.

 

“You know,” says Stevens in full-on shill mode, “if you haven’t stopped in to visit the Kingdome in Fargo, North Dakota, I can’t recommend it enough. You can come in and watch all our shows on the JumboSmarkTron, and don’t forget the Suicide King Museum of Self-Indulgence! You can see all sorts of memorabilia relating to our venerable bastard of a commissioner.”

 

“And,” adds Riley, “you can even purchase your very own Suicide King holy water font, which you can mount at the entrance of your home so that people can bless themselves as they enter your humble abode.”

 

“I can’t believe they’re actually marketing that,” murmurs Stevens, before continuing, “We’ve seen a lot of action tonight, most notably the attack on the Boston Strangler earlier tonight by Justice and Rule. The man that orchestrated this attack was none other than Tom Flesher, and he’s going to take on Catch-22 member Johnny Dangerous tonight.”

 

“Huh?” asks Riley. “That doesn’t make much sense. I mean, Flesher’s the World Champion, and Dangerous is…”

 

“No one asked you, Bobby.”

 

“No, seriously. What’s the-?”

 

“Let’s go to Funyon!”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says the Minnesota fashion plate, “the following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall! Making his way toward the ring…”

 

The house lights go down as a female voice says, “Johnny Dangerous!” The fans burst into cheers as Limp Bizkit’s Mission Impossible II theme rocks out over the sound system of the Target Center. The SmarkTron shows clips of Johnny Dangerous leaping off an exploding yacht and landing miraculously on a nearby tugboat as colorful lights circle through the arena. Soon, Johnny steps through the curtain happily, shooting the gun and wink gesture at the closest female fan as he struts to the ring. The fans, solidly behind him, cheer him on as he slides into the ring and mounts the second turnbuckle.

 

“Originally from Las Vegas, Nevada, though now hailing from a secret, secure location, and weighing in at a classified weight of just over 200 pounds, this is the Barracuda! This is Johnny Dangerous!”

 

The fans cheer a little longer for Johnny, but soon the house lights go down once again, and the SmarkTron wipes to a clean, gleaming white. The words “SUPERIORITY COMPLEX,” “MAGNIFICENT SEVEN” and “WORLD CHAMPION” fade onto it in thin blue lettering, and…

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

With a burst of blue smoke and pyro, Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” blares over the speakers as the fans begin to boo thunderously. Tom Flesher walks through the curtain in his blue warm-up suit with the SWF World Title belt slung over his shoulder. He begins his strut toward the ring, meeting the crowd’s strong disapproval and ignoring it entirely. He smirks as he climbs the stairs, wipes his boots off on the apron and steps to the center of the ring. Head held high, he poses in the center as the symphonic hook cues the trademark blasts of blue and white pyro from the corners. Finally, the music fades.

 

“Ladies, gentlemen, the man standing before you has acquiesced, after months of begging, to step into the ring with this lowly cretin. Hopefully, this will be short and sweet so that he can get back to more important things, such as shining his boots or deflowering the Boston Strangler’s barely-legal sister. So, ladies and gentlemen, bow down before the Superior One- and be quick about it!”

 

Flesher smirks as the fans boo, then strips off his warm-up suit and sets the belt on top in the corner. He quickly stretches out as Sexton Hardcastle calls for the bell.

 

 

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

 

 

Johnny Dangerous and Tom Flesher both walk to the center of the ring, Flesher looking bored and Dangerous wearing an expression that doesn’t exactly scream serious.

 

“Look at that schmuck,” jeers Bobby Riley. “Johnny Dangerous doesn’t even realize he’s facing possibly THE most talented man ever to step into an SWF ring. What possessed him to ask for this match?”

 

“Why don’t you go look on the INTERNET?” says Stevens sarcastically. “It was HOT NEWS last week on all the websites. You know, the sheets where people pretend to dig up news about backstage post all their rumors?”

 

“Oh, you mean like the Dames’ Diatribe about Battleground last month?”

 

“No, Bobby. Dames writes for a reputable publication unlike any other on the internet.” Stevens coughs. “Also, they always sign the paychecks on time.”

 

“I thought our bosses were Japanese.”

 

Flesher reaches out, grabbing Dangerous in a collar-and-elbow tieup. Dangerous steps forward, trying to gain control, but Flesher quickly gains the upper hand. He shoves Johnny backwards, ramming him hard into the corner! Bobby Riley says, “What a show of power!” as Johnny raises his hands up and Sexton Hardcastle steps in, calling for a rope break. Tom Flesher steps back to the center of the ring, and Johnny steps back toward him, pausing to shake out his arms and smooth out a wrinkle in his suit. He comes back at Flesher, locking on another collar-and-elbow tie. This time, the two wrestlers fight back and forth for a moment, with Johnny getting the upper hand and forcing Flesher back a few steps before the World Champion takes control once again and slams his opponent into the turnbuckles again! The fans begin to boo loudly as the official breaks the lockup once again, and Tom takes a few steps back. Johnny starts out of the corner, but…

 

 

SMACK!!!!!!

 

 

Flesher unloads a bitchslap right across his face!

 

“That right there is Flesher’s way of saying ‘Get out of the ring, and go make me some pie,’” says Riley.

 

“Pecan?”

 

“Preferably.”

 

Flesher steps back, raising an eyebrow to wait and see what Dangerous does. The Dangerous One lets loose with a big right hand… which Flesher ignores completely. A small smile crosses his face as Johnny unloads another right hand… and once again, Flesher doesn’t even seem to care! He steps forward, slamming a shotei into the secret agent man’s jaw and sending him staggering back into the corner! The crowd, clearly unhappy, continues booing as Flesher grabs Dangerous by the arm and whips him across the ring and into the opposite corner. He crouches down, staring at Johnny as he regains his footing, and then charges!

 

“Tom’s going for his running avalanche to set up the Boilermaker!” says Bobby. “This one’s gonna be over quick!”

 

“Flesher’s certainly making quick work of Johnny Dangerous,” agrees Stevens. “One has to wonder what Dangerous was thinking last Wednesday.”

 

Flesher comes rocketing in with the avalanche… but Johnny ducks out of the way! Tom lands sternum-first on the turnbuckle and stumbles back. Johnny sneaks in behind him and grabs him around the waist, ducking down and going for the MI Slam! The fans’ cheers crescendo as Johnny lifts the World Champion up… but Tom shifts his weight, sliding down Johnny’s back and avoiding the deadly finisher. As Mark Stevens says, “Johnny Dangerous, going for the same move that Jay Dawg used to defeat Tom Flesher a few weeks ago,” Flesher locks his hands around the Dangerous One’s waist and shoves him into the ropes. He then rolls backwards, trying to grab Johnny’s tights for the rolling prawn hold, but the Secret Agent holds on to the top rope! The fans applaud Johnny’s ring awareness, but as he turns around, Flesher throws a huge palm strike!

 

… which Johnny ducks! Flesher misses the strike, and while he’s still off-balanced, the Barracuda spins backwards, sending a lethal spinning back fist at Flesher, but the World Champion manages to step back and dodge the blow! Dangerous and Flesher stand face-to-face in the center of the squared circle, focused, neither man wanting to take another risk, and the crowd begins to applaud wildly.

 

As the crowd applauds, Flesher steps forward, slamming his Doc Marten boot stiffly into Johnny’s crotch! Johnny doubles over in pain, and the crowd’s applause turns to derision.

 

“Uh, Bobby? Did Flesher just-”

 

“He no-sold the Indy Applause Stance, Mark.” Riley wipes away a tear. “It was just so beautiful.”

 

The World Champion takes the espionage expert by the head and rams him face-first into the turnbuckle. Johnny tries to block the impact, but Flesher slams him with all his strength and follows it up with a palm strike to the back of the head. Johnny collapses onto his BUTT in the corner, and Flesher plants the sole of his boot on the Barracuda’s face! As the fans boo, Flesher scrapes his boot across Johnny’s face, and Johnny immediately brings his hands up to cover his visage from further attacks. Flesher callously kicks the Barracuda’s arms down and once again plants his boot on his face, then scrapes it across the skin. Johnny convulses on the mat, but Flesher quiets him with a stiff kick to the chest before scraping his boot across Johnny’s face one more time! This time he scrapes with such force that he nearly slides out of the ring, holding on to the top rope for balance! He regains his footing, then moves to the center of the ring, where he smirks and golf-claps for himself! The fans respond with a chant of “YOU SUCK DICK! YOU SUCK DICK!”

 

“Will you look at the egotism that Tom Flesher’s displaying?” says Mark Stevens rhetorically. “He’s showing no regard for the dignity of Johnny Dangerous, a world-renowned expert in…”

 

“In…?” prods Riley.

 

“In the repair of heavy machinery,” says Mark with a cough. “This man is singlehandedly responsible for the SWF equipment trucks being able to get here this week, after that deadly stall-out on Route 66.”

 

“Oh, you know as well as I do that he’s on some sort of spy mission.”

 

“That’s just plain false, Bobby. That’s like saying that El Luchadore Magnifico was an illegal immigrant or CIA is a closet alcoholic. Just flat-out untrue.”

 

When Flesher finishes his moment of self-indulgence, he grabs Johnny by the ankle and drags him to the middle of the ring. He pauses, looking quizzically at Dangerous’s left foot, but shrugs and drops onto him for a cover instead of further pursuing it. Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!

 

 

 

But Johnny kicks out. Flesher grabs the Barracuda and pulls him a few feet closer to the ropes, then stands him up and locks on an abdominal stretch! Immediately, the fans begin to boo as Rob Zombie’s biggest fan drops down to one knee and asks Johnny if he wants to quit. Flesher takes the opportunity to reach over and grab the top rope, leaning back and using the leverage to increase the pressure on Johnny’s abdominals. He pulls on the ropes and Johnny’s face twists into a mask of pain.

 

“Look at that!” says Stevens. “Flesher’s using the ropes for leverage! That’s illegal! Why isn’t the referee stopping it?”

 

The fans, agreeing with Stevens, jeer loudly and shout at the official to look up at Flesher’s hand, but Hardcastle’s positioning puts Johnny’s body in the way and so he can’t see the blatant illegality. Flesher leans further back, and Johnny cries out. Hardcastle stands up to check if the World Champion is using the ropes, but as soon as he starts to stand up, Tom releases it. Sexton Hardcastle walks around Flesher, sees nothing, and moves in front of Johnny once again. As the ref moves back into the blind spot, Flesher casually leans over and grabs the top rope once again.

 

“This is disgusting!” says Mark Stevens.

 

“Well, it’s not illegal as such,” replies Riley nonchalantly.

 

“What are you talking about?!”

 

“Does Hardcastle see it?”

 

“Obviously not.”

 

“Then he can’t very well call it. Thank you, good night.”

 

Johnny, in excruciating pain, tries to hold out. Flesher pulls the rope harder, putting more and more pressure on the Barracuda’s spine and ribs. Even as the fans begin an “ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!” chant, Hardcastle stays focused on Johnny. The Dangerous one tries to tell Hardcastle that Flesher is cheating, but the referee simply shakes his head and says that he didn’t see Flesher cheating. Flesher smirks and leans even further back, just as the official stands up to look for a rope grab. Flesher releases a moment too late, and Hardcastle calls for the break. Tom holds his hand up, professing innocence and arguing that he had done nothing wrong. Johnny Dangerous, meanwhile, takes the opportunity to spend his last ounce of strength. He reverses the abdominal stretch into a hiptoss, throwing Flesher to the mat! Dangerous drops to his knees, holding his ribs as Flesher hits the mat. Tom starts back to his feet and charges at the Barracuda, who catches Flesher’s left arm and pivots into a Japanese arm drag! He parlays the arm whip into a cover for

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

but Flesher gets a shoulder up almost immediately. He stands up but is almost immediately met with a dropkick to the chest. Flesher staggers backwards, and Dangerous nails him with another hard dropkick, once again crashing into Flesher’s sternum. The Superior One backpedals, leaning on the ropes to try to catch his breath and regain his balance. Johnny Dangerous takes advantage of Flesher’s momentary stunned state and climbs the ropes, taking a second to acknowledge the cheering crowd. As Tom Flesher comes back to the center of the ring, Johnny leaps off the top rope. He flies through the air at Flesher, executing a picture-perfect cross body press! Flesher sees him coming and opens his arms, catching the high-flying spy! Flesher holds his opponent for a few seconds, showing off his disproportionate strength. After a moment, he spins around, crashing to the mat and crushing Johnny with a power slam! Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

“Johnny somehow manages to kick out after that tremendous power slam,” says Mark Stevens. “What an incredible show of fortitude by the world-famous expert in… the repair of heavy machinery,” says Stevens with a cough.

 

“Eh, Flesher’s just toying with him,” replies Riley. “He could finish this chump any time he wanted to. You just watch.”

 

Flesher stands up, taking a second to mockingly dust himself off as he looks down with disdain at the opposition. He then leans down and pulls Dangerous back to his feet in a front facelock. Tom stands all the way up, holding the wiry Dangerous upside down. Flesher stalls for a few seconds…

 

“Look at the strength!” says Riley. “Flesher hasn’t been able to show off his power very much lately, since he’s been taking on big lugs like Frost, TNT, Jay Dawg and the Boston Strangler, so people tend to forget he’s a powerhouse. He’s just taking it to Johnny, though, and there’s just no way the Barracuda can fight back.”

 

Flesher continues stalling, the blood now rushing to Dangerous’ head. He turns his head slightly, looking at Dangerous’ face turning red from the blood concentrating in his head, and smirks slightly. With a barely-perceptible shrug, Flesher decides to dump Johnny, and falls flat to the mat! He spikes Johnny Dangerous straight onto his head with an absolutely deadly brainbuster! Flesher sits up, dusts his hands off with a satisfied smirk, and then gets to his feet.

 

“What’s Flesher trying to prove here?” says Stevens. “He could have pinned Johnny Dangerous, but instead he’s just going to try to prolong the pain he’s in.”

 

“Come on, Stevens. Haven’t you ever had a toy? Like, a slinky or something that you just really enjoyed playing with? How would YOU feel if someone gave you a LEGO set but told you that you were only allowed to build the set once, and not play around at all? Flesher’s just having some fun here. Why do you have to make him look like a bad person for it?”

 

Flesher smirks all the way over to the nearest corner. He climbs up, staring down at Johnny’s motionless carcass, and then leaps off the top rope! He angles his back toward Johnny and tucks his knees and elbows together, diving at him with a cannonball senton… but Johnny rolls out of the way! Tom lands hard on his back, grimacing in pain!

 

“Flesher misses the diving senton!” says Mark Stevens. “He got too cocky, and it looks like he’s going to pay for it!”

 

Johnny slowly rolls over, draping an arm over Flesher’s body as Christian Cage’s perennial tag team partner counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!! Flesher breaks the pin in plenty of time, but is still looking vulnerable. Johnny, regaining his senses, stands up and grabs Flesher in a front facelock. Slowly, he turns around, setting Tom up for a reverse neckbreaker… and then sits out! Flesher grabs his neck, holding his head in pain. Johnny, instead of going for another cover, simply takes advantage of the set-up move and scales the ropes once again.

 

“Johnny nails a neckbreaker, attacking a part of Flesher’s anatomy that Jay Dawg exploited quite considerably recently,” says Mark Stevens.

 

“Yeah, but it never hurts him. Flesher’s neck is practically non-existent… his head just sort of slopes into his shoulders.”

 

“It certainly put him down there.”

 

“Yeah, but… uh… well, when you understand wrestling, you’ll know why.”

 

The crowd, meanwhile, is cheering wildly for Johnny as he perches on the top rope. Tom Flesher slowly gets to his feet, cracking his neck to make sure everything is still in place. When he finally gets up, Johnny leaps off the top rope gracefully and absolutely hammers Flesher with a missile dropkick! Tom gets set so far off balance that he staggers to the ropes and falls out of the ring, crashing to the concrete in a heap! The fans cheer Johnny on as he runs the ropes, building up speed while Flesher slowly gets to his feet. Once Tom is up, Johnny runs at him and vaults over the top rope, coming at Flesher with a tope con hilo! Tom looks up, eyes wide. He spreads his arms out, shouting, “I’ve got you!”

 

“Flesher’s going to catch Johnny again, just like he did off the cross body!” says Stevens. “Can Johnny withstand a power slam to the concrete?!”

 

Riley simply giggles.

 

The crowd groans as Flesher looks up, then sidesteps at the last minute, allowing the international man of mystery to land on the concrete in a heap! They boo him without remorse as Flesher grins and slides back into the ring.

 

“That was just sadistic!” says Stevens. “How can that man look in the mirror every morning?”

 

“Well, it’s funny. He’s not really looking at himself in the mirror. He’s really looking at one of the beautiful women that are always on his arm.”

 

“Much to your chagrin.”

 

“Much to my- NO!!!!!!!”

 

Johnny, showing tremendous will to continue, starts to get to his feet. Flesher, meanwhile, watches him, leaning against the ropes and faking a yawn. The crowd continues to boo as Flesher watches Johnny get up, walking slowly like a toddler. Tom looks at his wrist, pantomiming looking at a watch, and then folds his arms impatiently and taps his foot. When Johnny finally starts walking steadily on the outside, Flesher grabs the middle rope and nails him with a baseball slide dropkick that sends the Barracuda careening into the guardrail. The fans resume their “ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!” chant as Flesher slides out of the ring.

 

“That was completely unnecessary,” says Stevens. “Tom Flesher’s just toying with Johnny Dangerous, and there’s no reason for it!” The Heavy Hitter is absolutely livid.

 

“Well if Johnny didn’t want to get whupped, why did he pick that fight backstage last week?”

 

“What did I tell you about the Hot Newzwire, Bobby?”

 

Flesher rolls Johnny back into the ring and follows after him, not even bothering to stand up before locking his hands around the Barracuda’s waist. He crouches behind the expert spy and uses his explosive power to lift Johnny straight off the mat in a German suplex, hoist him into the air and throw him so hard that he does a complete flip in mid-air and lands on his stomach! Flesher, breathing hard, sits up and looks over at Johnny with a smirk, then rolls him over onto his back. Tom goes over, climbs the ropes, and raises his arms into the air. The fans shower him with boos.

 

“Flesher’s going to finish it here,” says Riley. “You’ve gotta believe that.”

 

“Unless he decides to toy with Johnny a little more,” says Stevens sarcastically.

 

Tom Flesher leaps off the top rope, arms spread wide, and comes crashing down onto Johnny Dangerous with a flying headbutt! The fans boo as he makes his impact, and Bobby Riley points out, “Flesher doesn’t use that one often. Sure, he’s showing off, but do you blame him?”

 

Tom covers the Barracuda, and Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

 

 

 

 

 

NO! FLESHER PULLS JOHNNY UP OFF THE MAT! The fans shower Flesher with boos, and Johnny Dangerous simply looks up with a dazed and confused stare as a few empty beer cups come flying at the World Champion. Flesher swats them away as he lifts Johnny up and walks him over to the corner, propping him up on the ropes.

 

“NOW we’re gonna see the Boilermaker!” says Riley. “He missed the setup earlier, but this is it! Johnny’s out of it!”

 

“Johnny Dangerous has shown tremendous fighting spirit in this match, and-”

 

“Fighting spirit? All he’s done is take an asskicking and ask for another one. Mark, that’s not fighting spirit. That’s just stupid.”

 

Flesher starts to lifts Johnny onto the top rope for his avalanche brainbuster, but the man with the License to Thrill blocks it with a stiff chop to the neck! He succeeds in stopping Flesher’s lift, and continues with another pair of karate chops that send the Superior One staggering backwards! Johnny continues showing off his martial arts skills as he leaps into the air and nails Flesher in the head with a beautiful gamengiri! Flesher falls backwards, flat onto his back as Johnny pauses to regain his composure. As Tom starts back to his feet, Johnny grabs him with a front facelock and quickly rolls out with a swinging neckbreaker! Once again, Flesher grabs his head painfully, and this time Johnny covers! Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Flesher gets a shoulder up and starts pushing his way back to his feet, seemingly unwilling to lay down for someone so far below him.

 

“The Barracuda showcases his martial arts skills and nearly gets the pin on Tom Flesher!” says Mark Stevens. “Tell me, how can you NOT back a guy like this? He’ll fight till the final bell, and he’s a hell of a… machine repairman.”

 

Johnny Dangerous sprints across the ring and gets into the corner, stomping repeatedly. Flesher finally pushes his way back up to his feet and shakes off the cobwebs as Mark Stevens declares, “Johnny Dangerous is warming up the band!”

 

STOMP…

 

STOMP…

 

STOMP…

 

 

 

And finally, Johnny shuffles toward Flesher with the Johnny Kick!

 

 

 

FLESHER SIDESTEPS! He grabs Johnny’s left foot, once again looking extremely confused as he looks at the left boot, but thinking nothing of it as he trips the Dangerous One! He bends the left leg down, not bothering to pause for a salute as he falls to the mat and locks on…

 

 

“CROSS LIGHTNING!” screams Bobby Riley! “CROSS LIGHTNING!”

 

“But can he get to the ropes?!”

 

Flesher holds the leglock as tightly as he can, trying to force Johnny to submit to the crooked figure four. Johnny cries out in pain, but quickly regains his senses and reaches out to grab the bottom rope! Flesher keeps the Cross Lightning on, even as Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Finally, Flesher breaks the hold. However, he very quickly grabs Johnny’s ankles and pulls him back to the center of the ring.

 

“Is he going to go for the Cross Lightning again?” asks Stevens. “I don’t know if Johnny can stand any more of it.”

 

“Of course not,” replies Riley dismissively. “He’s going for something more conventional.”

 

With that, Flesher applies a spinning toehold on the right leg, stepping around to lock on a figure four that will bar Johnny’s tender left leg! He picks up the left leg and once again pauses to examine the left boot. Johnny takes advantage of the misstep and pulls Flesher down in a small package for

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

NO!!!!!!!!!!! Flesher rolls out just before the three-count, holding Johnny’s odd-looking left boot. He stands up, trying to pull it away!

 

“What the hell is Flesher doing?!” says Stevens angrily. “He’s not even going for a move, just trying to grab that damn boot!”

 

“Well look at it, for god’s sake!”

 

“What’s so bad about it?”

 

“The toe caps are hideous!”

 

 

Oh, Bobby. You may even be right this time.

 

 

Flesher reaches down, untying the laces as Johnny struggles to pull his leg back. Frantically, the Barracuda tries to pull away, but finally Tom unties the boot and pulls it all the way off. He pops off the capped toe and pulls out… AN ANTENNA! His eyes grow wide as he stands in stunned silence…

 

“IT’S A DAMN SHOE PHONE!” screams Stevens. “JOHNNY DANGEROUS’ BOOT IS A SHOE PHONE!”

 

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THAT MAN?!”

 

Before Mark Stevens can respond, Johnny stands up and nails Flesher with a dropkick to the chest! Flesher, caught off-guard, gets the wind knocked out of him as Johnny grabs the shoe and chucks it into his corner. He grabs Flesher and nails a quick, barefoot enzuigiri to put him on the mat, and then pulls him up in a reverse facelock!

 

“THE COVER UP!” shouts Stevens. “JOHNNY’S GOING FOR THE COVER UP!”

 

“He’s going to need a damn cover up after letting Flesher expose his equipment like that!”

 

“At least he didn’t find the plastic explosives in Johnny’s other boot,” mutters Stevens.

 

Johnny pulls Flesher over to the top rope, but before he can leap off for his Diamond Dust variant, Flesher clamps down on the arm around his neck. He peels it off and spins out, extending the arm and turning to face Johnny as he sits on the top rope. Flesher jumps up, slamming a leaping palm strike into Johnny’s jaw to keep him immobile, and then climbs to the top rope! The fans boo as loud as they can while Flesher stands on the top strand, locking on a front facelock! He lifts Johnny and holds him upside down, stalling for a few seconds before…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Flesher drives Johnny’s head to the mat with the avalanche brainbuster known as the Boilermaker! He rolls onto his opponent for

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “your winner, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“What a counter!” says Bobby Riley. “He countered the Cover Up right into the Boilermaker! Simply amazing!”

 

As “Kashmir” begins to play, Flesher walks over to the corner and picks up the shoe phone once again. He examines it for a few seconds, looking shocked and confused, and then drops it right next to Johnny.

 

“Coming up next, The Boston Strangler and Jay Dawg! Stay tuned!”

 

Fade into a commercial for Doc Marten boots, featuring clips of Tom Flesher’s boot scrapes and Yakuza kicks (“If they stand up to someone as ugly as Frost, they’ll stand up to ANYTHING!”)

[Guest Suicide King]

The door to the Magnificent Seven locker room swings open and Tom Flesher comes walking in with a towel around his shoulders, a bottle of water in his hand, and the SWF World Heavyweight Championship around his waist. Judge and Ejiro look up from their monitor. “Hey, Tom, nice work out there tonight” says Judge.

 

“Shows what happens when you’re stupid enough to get booked against the best” adds Ejiro. “Man, I can’t wait until me and Judge get another chance to kick some Wild and Dangerous ass.”

 

“You’re still in an ass-kicking mood?” asks Judge, somewhat surprised. “We already beat the living hell out of Dace, Danny, and Nathan, and we schooled Strangler earlier. How can you even be interested in picking another fight?” Ejiro shrugs, and turns back to the monitor. Tom Flesher smiles and throws the towel into his locker.

 

“Good to see that you boys are ready for a fight. That’s the spirit I love. Rest up tonight, though. We’ve done our job pretty damn well tonight.” Tom grabs a clean towel from the locker, and starts to head towards the shower. “I’m gonna hop in the shower, so you guys just hang out for a few…well, well, what do we have here?”

 

Tom’s gaze swings over towards the door, where the Boston Strangler stands, with a determined look on his face. “Strangler, Strangler, Strangler…” mutters Flesher. “I thought we did this earlier. You came in here, you ask for a title shot, and you get the living hell beaten out of you. Now, less than two hours later, and right before the match where you can actually EARN that shot, you’re in here, practically BEGGING me and my friends to kick your ass AGAIN. So tell me, Strangler, why ARE you here?”

 

Strangler, whose eyes have never left Tom the entire time, remains silent for a few seconds. Finally, he says, “Tom, I kicked your ass on Lockdown. You know it. You weren’t man enough to finish the match with me. You ran like a little girl. You see, Tom, I’m the one doing you a favor. I’m giving you one last chance to get your honor back. Agree to fight me, agree to defend that title, and agree to actually go the distance with me instead of getting your ass handed to you, then taking your ball and going home. What’s it gonna be, Tom? You gonna be a man about it, or what?”

 

Tom bursts out into laughter, a sentiment which is echoed by Judge and Ejiro in the background. “No, Strangler. You don’t get a shot handed to you. Now go out there and earn it. Of course, I think it’s only fair if the three of us decide to give you a little…’going away’ party, of course. Judge, Ejiro, you remember the drill. Let’s teach our boy Strangler here what happens to idiots who don’t know what’s good for them.”

 

Judge and Ejiro hop up and start to walk over towards Strangler. Suddenly, Strangler stops them. “Tom, one thing: Please tell me that you don’t think I was stupid enough to go out and do the exact same thing as earlier this evening. I learned from that. So, while you boys were out fighting, I went out and made a couple of new friends. And Tom, one of them is REALLY happy to see you.”

 

Tom looks at Judge and Ejiro, who seem just as confused. Suddenly, Frost and Longdogger Pete come charging out of the bathroom, with steel chairs in hand. Pete decks Ejiro Fasaki with a brutal chairshot to the skull, which sends Ejiro dropping to the floor of the locker room. Frost storms in and blasts Judge in the head with his chair. Judge staggers backwards, and Frost winds up again. He drills Judge a second time, and Judge crumples lifelessly to the floor. Frost and Pete then turn their attention to Tom Flesher, who has three extremely angry men between him and the only exit from the room. Tom backs up until he’s pressed against the lockers, and Strangler steps forward. “Now, Tom, this is what I want: On Storm, we’re gonna have us a little six-man tag match. Me and my two new friends here against you and those two chumpstains you call stablemates. This match WILL happen. And sooner or later, you WILL have to fight me. You can’t run forever. And on Storm, it all begins, Tom. You and me. Understand?”

 

Tom glares back at Strangler with a murderous gaze, and finally nods his head. “Fine. Six-man tag match. You three versus us three.”

 

Strangler grins. “Most excellent. Now, I have a match up next, where I get to become #1 Contender to your title. I suggest you watch it, Tom. Maybe you can figure out a move that can actually hurt me for our next matchup.” With that, Strangler turns around and exits the locker room. Frost and LDP remain standing there, steel chairs in hand, staring at Tom. Finally, Frost speaks: “Tom, long time, no see. It’s going to be a LOT of fun getting in that ring with you on Storm. Pete and I are definitely looking forward to that one. We’ll see you then.”

 

With that, Frost and LDP head out the same swinging door used just a moment earlier by Strangler. Judge and Ejiro push themselves up to their feet as the door finally swings closed. Tom looks down at Judge and Ejiro, and tosses his towel aside. “Screw the shower. Let’s just go” mutters Tom. He grabs his bag and heads out the door, with a very obvious annoyed look.

[Guest Suicide King]

The Target Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota lights up one last time as Smarkdown returns from its final commercial break. The screaming fans are louder than they’ve been all night, in anticipation of tonight’s main event. A group of screaming fans hold up their “Strangler for governor! He can’t be worse than Ventura!” sign, which is displayed on the SmarkTron™. As the camera flashes over to a sign reading “Oh JD…you can’t entertain me!”, Mark Stevens’ voice fills the arena.

 

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, everybody! Tonight has been a superb show, featuring some incredible matches! The six-man tag match was a surefire Match of the Year Candidate, and Tom Flesher…

 

Riley: Tom Flesher graced us with his presence, and showed us all the kinds of human beings we should aspire to be!

 

Stevens: Thank you, Riley. But now, we have tonight’s main event, and it will determine the #1 Contender to Tom Flesher’s SWF World Heavyweight Championship!

 

Riley: Why even bother! Jay Dawg lost cleanly to Flesher on Lockdown…

 

Stevens: …after Tom lost cleanly to Drazon on Storm…

 

Riley: …and the Boston Strangler has done absolutely nothing to deserve a shot at that title!

 

Stevens: Wins over TNT, Neilsen, and Tom Flesher himself surely make Strangler deserving of the opportunity!

 

Riley: Strangler is simply not championship material. Jay Dawg is no Tom Flesher, but he’s a hell of a lot closer than Strangler is!

 

Stevens: Well, one of them will get the shot, whether Bobby Riley thinks that the person is deserving or not. We now send you to Funyon in the middle of the ring to get this hotly anticipated match underway!

 

The camera pans to the middle of the ring, where Funyon is outlined by a bright spotlight shining through the otherwise-dark ring. Funyon immediately raises his microphone to his mouth to launch into his spiel.

 

Funyon: “It is now time for tonight’s MAIN EVENT. It is scheduled for ONE FALL, and it will determine the #1 CONTENDER to Tom Flesher’s SWF Championship! Introducing first…”

 

“THIS!

 

IS!

 

MAH!

 

HOUSE!”

 

Drazon’s voice, partially distorted by the exploding pyro, echoes throughout the arena, signaling the start of Rammstein's 'Du Haste' to play without the lyrics. The heavy beats thunders throughout the arena, which mixes into the heavy boos from 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 listens to the boos echoing through the Target Center, then brushes the hair out of his eyes as he begins to stride towards the ring.

 

Funyon: “Introducing first, from Vancouver, British Columbia, weighing in at 243 pounds, he is the Hardcore Maniac, JAMIE “JAY DAWG” DRAZON!!”

 

Stevens: Just a note here: Jay Dawg holds the longest SWF Hardcore title reign in the federation’s history. When he set that record, he snapped the former record held by none other than the Boston Strangler! I’m sure that thought has crossed Strangler’s mind going into tonight!

 

Riley: And Jay Dawg has similar motivation! In Strangler’s SWF debut in December 2001, he defeated Jay Dawg! I’m sure that loss is something that Drazon would LOVE to avenge!

 

JD reaches the ring and hops onto the ring apron, calmly stepping through the ropes. He lets his head remain low as he stretches himself out, anticipating the task facing him. The fans give him a brutal welcome, in sharp contrast to the mixed reaction he received against Flesher the last two shows. He steps back into the corner and perches himself there, waiting for the arrival of his opponent, the Boston Strangler. Finally, “Du Haste” cuts out, and the fans fill the void with a small wave of cheers, waiting for Strangler’s arrival. “Godzilla” hits over the announce system, and the fans explode into a frenzy of cheers. After a few seconds, a huge burst of white pyro explodes in front of the SmarkTron™, displaying “STRANGLER” in big white letters. Strangler walks through the pyro onto the top of the entrance ramp, which re-ignites the crowd’s cheers.

 

Funyon: “And his opponent, from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 303 pounds, he is the BOSTON…STRRRRRRANGLER!”

 

Riley: Remind me WHY you had to re-sign Strangler again?

 

Stevens: He deserves a second chance, Riley, and he’s been making the most of it during his time here! God knows I’ve given you plenty of chances!

 

Strangler rolls under the bottom rope and slips into the ring. He walks past JD, exchanging glares with Drazon, before scaling the second turnbuckle. He raises both fists into the air, playing for the crowd, as flashbulbs explode throughout the arena. Strangler holds the pose for a moment longer, then hops down off the turnbuckle and walks towards the middle of the ring. JD is already standing there, waiting for the big Bostonian. The two of them return to their staredown, glaring a hole through each other. As their eyes remain locked together, Mark Hebner calls for the bell to start the match.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

Strangler finally breaks the stare by lunging forward and throwing a hard right cross. JD quickly sidesteps the blow, and spins around, drilling Strangler square in the jaw with a brutal reverse spin kick. Strangler immediately crumples to the mat, and the crowd goes dead silent as JD drops to the mat and a very surprised Mark Hebner falls to the canvas for the count.

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

TH-NO!

 

 

Stevens: And that just came out of nowhere!

 

Riley: One kick and Strangler is out like a light! Wow, THIS guy deserves a title shot!

 

Stevens: Obviously Strangler got caught off-guard, but this match isn’t over yet, and I don’t think that Strangler is gonna let something like that happen to him again.

 

Strangler shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs out, as he looks up at Jay Dawg. Drazon is standing above Strangler, staring down at the much larger man with a cruel grin on his face. Strangler comes rising off the mat with a clothesline, but JD quickly sidesteps the move and drops Strangler face-first onto the mat with a drop toe hold. Before Strangler can claw his way up again, JD immediately locks on a fujiwara armbar. Strangler struggles, trying to escape the extremely strong grip of JD on his right arm. Strangler quickly reaches out and grabs ahold of the bottom rope with his left arm, which draws a small cheer from the crowd, who are still in shock over Drazon’s early dominance. JD continues to apply the armbar as Hebner steps in and begins the five count. As Hebner reaches four, JD releases the hold and steps to a standing position as Strangler pulls himself up with his left arm on the ropes, looking rather pissed off.

 

Stevens: It’s rare to see someone take it to Strangler like this early on in the matchup, and I have to wonder what’s going through Strangler’s head right now!

 

Riley: Probably nothing but tumbleweeds.

 

Strangler stands up and cracks his neck once before stepping forward to meet JD again. Strangler throws a left hook that makes glancing contact with JD, but JD quickly fires back with a left kick to Strangler’s abdomen. Strangler manages to avoid the brunt of the contact, but walks into a hard right elbow to his collarbone. Strangler winces and moves backwards slightly, leaving his right side totally unprotected. JD lunges forward with a hard right hook towards Strangler’s kidney, but Strangler manages to step aside, sending the blow harmlessly past him. Strangler grabs JD’s outstretched arm and pulls Drazon towards him roughly, sending JD forward off-balance. JD stumbles straight into a Strangler clothesline, which levels him. Strangler quickly drops to the canvas, trying to capitalize on the momentum change.

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!-NO!

 

 

Stevens: And it looks like Strangler might have finally figured JD out a little bit!

 

Riley: But even if he has “figured him out”, which is unlikely, since Strangler apparently hasn’t figured out how to use a shower yet, he’s absorbed a ton of punishment so far!

 

Stevens: Strangler is capable of absorbing a ton of punishment!

 

Riley: But so is Drazon! Right now, the advantage clearly goes to Jay Dawg!

 

Drazon’s kickout sends Strangler off to Drazon’s right side. Strangler gets to both his knees as Drazon gets to all fours. Strangler winds up and slams his right arm down across JD’s back, which slows JD’s ascent. Strangler drills JD cross the back again with another clubbing hammer blow, which drops a nearly vertical JD back to all fours. However, JD shrugs the impact off and starts to force himself up again. Strangler pauses for a moment as JD straightens himself up, then tries to level Drazon with a big boot. However, Drazon grabs ahold of Strangler’s leg and twists him to the mat with a dragon screw takedown. Strangler falls on his shoulders, and feels JD reaching down, looking to apply JD’s dreaded crucifix kneebar.

 

Stevens: He’s looking for JD’s Avenge early on here, and I don’t like Strangler’s chances if he gets that kneebar on!

 

Strangler immediately responds by sending his right foot crashing into JD’s face, knocking JD backwards and preventing the submission. JD steadies himself and charges forward at the rising Strangler. Strangler blocks JD’s clothesline attempt, and sidesteps a left kick from Drazon. JD readies himself for another round of attacks, but Strangler catches JD with a quick boot to the gut, doubling him over. Strangler pulls JD forward and puts him in a double underhook position, drawing a cheer from the crowd. Strangler grunts and lifts JD up and onto his shoulder, but JD slips off the back and grabs ahold of Strangler’s neck on the way down, pulling him down into a big back-to-back neckbreaker. The crowd goes silent once again as JD turns himself around, drops to the canvas, and goes for the cover.

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

T-NO!

 

 

Riley: Strangler is being totally owned by JD right now!

 

Stevens: Strangler had some momentum, but JD managed to pull off a very nice reversal to give himself control.

 

Riley: Stevens, it isn’t JD’s doing that Strangler is getting killed here. Strangler is going in here with no game plan other than to beat JD up, and Jay Dawg is much better at beating people up than Strangler is!

 

JD gets to his feet, looking unconcerned about Strangler’s kickout, and quickly jumps into the air before landing on Strangler’s forehead with a nasty kneedrop. Strangler recoils from the blow as JD repositions himself, and jumps into the air, laying a second hard knee across Strangler’s exposed brow. JD steps back up, and then delivers a third kneedrop to Strangler, who is hardly moving on the canvas. This time, JD stays down on the mat and wraps one hand around Strangler’s throat as he begins to blatantly choke Strangler against the canvas.

 

Stevens: Mark Hebner needs to rein JD in here! He’s been cheating the entire match, and he’s showing no signs of stopping!

 

Hebner finally intervenes and begins the five count as he chastises JD for the illegal maneuver. As Hebner reaches four, JD looks up at Hebner with an incensed glare and begins to release the choke. Suddenly, Strangler’s right hand closes around JD’s throat, which surprises the Hardcore Maniac. He releases his grip on Strangler’s throat and tries to pry Strangler’s hand off of his throat as Strangler starts to get to his feet, bringing JD with him. Hebner gives a half-hearted warning to Strangler about the choke-hold as Strangler reaches his full vertical base. With his free left arm, he points to the rafters, and then to the ground. The crowd goes ready as they anticipate the Plunge, but suddenly, JD comes alive. He manages to shift his weight, driving Strangler backwards towards Hebner. Hebner turns and dodges away from the two men, giving JD an opening to deliver a nasty-looking low blow to Strangler. The crowd bursts into boos as Strangler releases his vise-like grip on Drazon’s throat. Hebner turns back to the two men and sees JD apply a facelock before delivering the JD DDT to Strangler. Strangler drops to the canvas lifelessly as JD rolls over and makes the cover. Hebner looks at Drazon for a second, and then drops to the canvas as Jay Dawg berates him for the slow count.

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

THRE-NO!

 

 

Stevens: Strangler was close to landing that big move he’s been looking for the entire match, but JD managed to escape yet again…although this time, his counter was MUCH less impressive!

 

Riley: Strangler is outright screwed if he keeps this up! He’s still playing JD’s game, and no one can beat JD at his own game…except for Tom Flesher, of course.

 

Stevens: Thataway to get the Flesher Per Minute ratio back on track.

 

Strangler’s face is a mix of extreme pain and rage as he looks up at JD, whose face is still twisted into the evil grin. Strangler starts to get up, but JD runs forward and drills Strangler with a running knee to the side of Strangler’s head. Strangler goes rolling sideways on the canvas as JD follows up with a couple of hard running stomps to Strangler, who does his best to evade the blows. Strangler finally reaches the ropes, and wisely decides to roll out of the ring to regroup. The crowd boos JD as he flips Strangler off from behind and exits the ring behind the unsuspecting Bostonian. Strangler paces around the outside before JD slams into him from behind, dropping Strangler to the ground on the outside. Hebner yells at JD, who ignores the referee and stomps away at Strangler. Hebner rolls to the outside as Strangler is hoisted to his feet by JD back to a standing position. JD grabs ahold of Strangler’s forearm and sends the big man whipping towards the steel ring steps, but Strangler plants himself and reverses the whip. JD goes plowing into the ring steps, sending the top half flying across the outside.

 

Stevens: Strangler finally gets JD into a situation where it becomes a matter of strength vs. strength, which is a contest Strangler will win just about every time!

 

Strangler looks down at JD, and seems torn between two options. Finally, Strangler walks over towards JD and starts to pick him up. Suddenly, JD shoots out with a leg sweep kick. Strangler’s legs go right out from under him, and Strangler’s head goes slamming into the bottom half of the ring steps still in place.

 

Stevens: I don’t see you calling for a DQ now, Riley.

 

Riley: That was just incidental contact, unlike the malicious plan of Strangler to brutally injure Jay Dawg!

 

Stevens: Well, it looks like what JD is planning to do next sure as hell won’t be incidental contact!

 

JD goes walking over and grabs the second half of the ring steps from its landing place, drawing a massive round of boos from the crowd. Strangler is still dazed from his fall on the ring steps. His upper body remains on the ring steps as JD walks forward purposefully. He raises the steel steps and takes aim at Strangler’s head, preparing to smash it like a walnut. Before JD can swing them downward, Mark Hebner inserts himself in between the two men and holds up his arms, keeping JD from drilling Strangler. Drazon barks at Hebner to get out of the way, but he refuses to budge from his position. Jay Dawg lowers the stairs to his side and uses his left arm to swat Hebner out of the way. JD looks over at Hebner and taunts him a little bit as he begins to raise the stairs again. However, Strangler has recovered, and explodes upwards, leveling JD with a massive spear to his unprotected stomach. JD tries to toss the stairs to the side as he falls backwards, but the stairs fall straight down onto his face as he hits the ground hard.

 

Stevens: And a huge recovery by Strangler! What a desperation move!

 

Riley: Wow, attacking a defenseless man. THAT takes talent.

 

Stevens: Calling Jamie Drazon defenseless is like calling your mother attractive. And if Strangler didn’t do that, his head would be all over the ring steps right about now!

 

Riley: Exactly! You can see why I’m so upset!

 

Hebner walks over and looks at the two men. He rolls back into the ring and begins the countout as Strangler and Drazon remain motionless on the outside.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

 

 

FOUR!!!

 

 

Stevens: It looks like Strangler is moving!

 

Riley: So is Jay Dawg! Right now, they’re racing back to the ring!

 

As Mark Hebner reaches “SIX!”, Strangler reaches his full standing position. He looks at JD, who is on both knees, and then grabs ahold of Drazon. He drags him forward and rolls him into the ring before entering himself, breaking Hebner’s count at just before “EIGHT!”

 

Riley: What the hell is Strangler doing? He might have won by countout there if he hadn’t rolled JD into the ring…highly unlikely, but it could have happened!

 

Stevens: Strangler is insistent on earning this shot at the title! He doesn’t want to win by countout, like he did on Lockdown against Tom Flesher!

 

Riley: Well, when he loses, at least he’ll know that his own retardedness is the reason he lost.

 

Stevens: Is retardedness even a word?

 

Riley: If it wasn’t, it is now.

 

Strangler hops onto his knees and applies a rear sleeper on Jay Dawg. JD struggles somewhat, but Strangler has no problem keeping the sleeper applied as JD, in a sitting position, tries to power out of it. He throws a couple elbows backwards, but Strangler manages to avoid the brunt of the impact, and keeps forcing JD down against the canvas. JD manages to force himself off the canvas a few inches as he wraps his hands around Strangler’s right forearm, trying to pry it off his neck. Strangler struggles with JD, managing to keep his arm wrapped tightly across JD’s throat. Finally, JD reaches backwards with his left arm and jams his thumb into Strangler’s eye. Strangler’s grip weakens slightly, and JD follows up by jamming his fingers into Strangler’s Adam’s apple. Strangler chokes and his grip weakens even more, giving JD the opening he needs to pry Strangler’s arm off his neck. He grabs ahold of the arm Strangler had applied the sleeper with and pulls forward, sending the off-balance Strangler forward. JD ducks over as he pulls Strangler over his shoulder in a picture-perfect judo hip toss. Strangler goes tumbling across the canvas as JD, still struggling for breath, forces himself up to his feet.

 

Stevens: Strangler had the right idea there. He took a strategy used by Tom Flesher in his last match against Jay Dawg, and tried to fatigue, rather than injure, Jay Dawg!

 

Riley: But unlike Flesher, Strangler was stupid when applying these, and he was easily reversed, giving control back to Drazon!

 

Stevens: Actually, Flesher had some difficulties with Drazon’s reversals as well.

 

Riley: Flesher won, didn’t he? He beat JD, and that’s something that Strangler is certainly not capable of!

 

Stevens: I feel that Strangler’s strategy has been solid up until now, but sooner or later, he’s going to need to take control and land a lot of his big power moves, since Drazon isn’t an easy man to pin!

 

Riley: He’ll never pull it off! He’ll keep going at JD with the punchpunch kickkick bullshit, and he’ll get owned!

 

Jay Dawg gets to his feet and looks down at Strangler, who is struggling for breath. JD, who is still short of breath himself, hardly hesitates as he heads for the corner and starts to scale the turnbuckles. The crowd begins to buzz, wondering what JD is planning as he reaches the top turnbuckle. He perches himself on the top, and looks down at Strangler, readying himself for the attack. JD prepares for what appears to be the swandive headbutt, but Strangler lunges against the ropes, sending JD crotch-first into the top turnbuckle. The crowd explodes as Strangler pulls himself up, with help from the ropes, as JD’s face is clenched tightly as he tries to make sure everything is still in place.

 

Riley: And a low blow by Strangler!

 

Stevens: Strangler never made contact with JD, and JD had a blatant low blow from earlier that you had no problem with!

 

Riley: You act like Strangler has testicles to injure in the first place!

 

Strangler walks over to the corner and starts to scale the turnbuckles, facing JD. He steps onto the second turnbuckle and gets his balance before hooking JD’s arm around his neck in a suplex position. Flashbulbs begin to explode throughout the crowd as Strangler cautiously steps up to the top turnbuckle. He balances himself gingerly, and pulls JD up from his sitting position on the turnbuckle to a standing position. Strangler sets himself, but JD slams his left fist into Strangler’s stomach. Strangler reels backwards, giving JD enough time to steady himself and lash out with a hard right kick. The kick catches Strangler in the thigh, which topples him over. Strangler falls from the top rope all the way to the canvas below, where he lands with a sickening THUD!

 

Riley: Strangler got greedy! He went a little too high, trying to get that extra leverage, and now JD is back in control!

 

Stevens: Strangler is still looking for that one big move to give himself control of this match, but as of now, JD has managed to counter Strangler at nearly every opportunity!

 

Riley: And imagine what Tom Flesher would do to Strangler if JD can toss him around like this!

 

Strangler moves slightly on the ground, but is nearly motionless as JD re-steadies himself. He perches once again on the top turnbuckle, and aims himself towards Strangler. JD pauses, then goes flying through the air. He front-flips before crashing down into Strangler with the senton splash. Strangler shakes from the impact, then lies motionless once again on the canvas as Jay Dawg rolls around on the mat, holding his back. He finally remembers Strangler, and quickly crawls over. He pauses momentarily to hook Strangler’s massive leg as Hebner slides in for the count.

 

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!

 

 

Stevens: NO! Strangler kicks out at the very last second, and this match will continue on, much to the delight of the fans here tonight in the Target Center!

 

Riley: I get the feeling that JD is just one big move away from ending this matchup right here, right now!

 

Stevens: Stevens can take a beating as well as anyone in this fed, so I get the feeling JD still has a lot of work to do if he wants to pin the Boston Strangler!

 

JD waits for Strangler to get to his feet as he pats his right leg, waiting to take out Strangler for good. He calls for the Thai Roundhouse kick, which draws a huge round of boos from the crowd.

 

Riley: We all know what’s coming! Roundhouse, Shining Black, and the 1-2-3 for the win!

 

Stevens: It ain’t over till the fat lady sings, Riley!

 

Riley: No one wants to hear your mother sing, Stevens.

 

JD continues to wait as a severely dazed Strangler pushes himself to his feet. His glassy eyes search the ring for JD, who continues to lie in wait behind Strangler, looking to put him away. Finally, Strangler, at his full vertical base, turns around. JD takes the opportunity and lashes forward with the roundhouse kick, but Strangler manages to duck out of the way just in the nick of time. JD’s momentum sends him spinning, leaving him at an angle to Strangler. Strangler lunges forward and darts behind JD, applying a full nelson. Before JD has a chance to react, Strangler lifts Drazon high into the air, then smashes him down to the mat with the full nelson atomic drop. Strangler releases the full nelson and pushes JD to the canvas where he hooks the leg for the cover. Hebner drops to the mat and begins the count, being accompanied by the now-frenzied fans.

 

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-NO!!!!

 

 

 

Stevens: And JD managed to kick out!

 

Riley: Of course he kicked out! It’s gonna take a LOT to take Drazon down, and Strangler’s hasn’t been able to land many high-impact moves today!

 

Stevens: But Strangler has FINALLY landed one of his high-impact moves, and that could be just what he needs to get the ball rolling! When Strangler has an opportunity to dismantle his opponent, he usually does so VERY well!

 

Strangler forces JD up to his feet quickly, and whips Drazon into the corner. Drazon goes slamming into the turnbuckle back-first, and is immediately drilled across the jaw by a HUGE Strangler clothesline. JD shoots back against the turnbuckles as Strangler steps back and crunches JD with a huge right cross to the jaw. JD recoils backwards again, giving Strangler an opportunity to open up on Drazon. Strangler sends punch after punch after punch into the midsection of the Hardcore Maniac. Finally, Strangler ends it with another big right cross to the jaw of Jay Dawg. Strangler looks out to the crowd for a moment, who have a big “T! B! S!” chant going, then turns back to Drazon, only to be met with a sharp right kick to the stomach. The shot knocks the wind out of Strangler and the crowd, which goes much quieter.

 

Riley: There we go! You play to the fans, and you get fucked in the end! Strangler deserves to lose for being so stupid as to take his eyes off of Jay Dawg!

 

JD lashes out with a second shot, which has a similar effect. Strangler staggers backwards, looking rather helpless as the overbearing smirk returns to JD’s face. He winds up and lashes out with a third kick, headed straight for Strangler’s stomach. Suddenly, Strangler’s hands wrap around the leg and stop it in midair. The crowd goes nuts as JD’s face shows his surprise. Strangler pushes backwards on JD’s leg, sending him toppling to the canvas, where he lands flat on his back. Strangler bends over and grabs both of JD’s legs before dragging him towards a corner. Strangler falls backwards as he lifts JD up, sending the Hardcore Maniac catapulting straight into the corner. JD’s head smashes into the top of the ring post, sending a ringing noise throughout the arena. JD stumbles backwards, and walks straight into Strangler, who grabs JD with a rear waistlock. He pauses for a moment before lifting up and sending JD flying with a HUGE release German suplex. JD falls straight back onto his head and lies motionless on the canvas while Strangler hustles over and makes the cover, with the fans extremely loud in the Target Center.

 

 

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

Riley: YES! Jay Dawg kicked out! The match continues!

 

Stevens: This match was less than half a second away from ending, but Jamie Drazon had JUST enough left to kick out! Still, I get the feeling that Strangler should have this one all squared away!

 

Strangler gets to his feet, and he raises one fist into the air, signaling for the Boston Massacre. The fans explode once again as Strangler grabs JD by his hair and pulls him up to his feet before effortlessly lifting him into the air to a gorilla press slam position. JD struggles to free himself from the predicament, and grabs ahold of Strangler’s left arm. Strangler starts to lose his grip on JD, and Drazon falls to the ground, bringing Strangler down with him. JD immediately locks the Fujiwara armbar onto Strangler’s left arm, sending Strangler into a good deal of pain.

 

Riley: All squared away, huh Stevens? How dare you count out Jay Dawg?

 

Stevens: Well, Strangler is still in decent shape…

 

Riley: How the hell is that? He’s stuck in the middle of the ring, he’s in a submission, and JD is looking to cripple his arm!

 

Stevens: I still have faith in Strangler being able to succeed!

 

JD continues to apply the armbar, torquing Strangler’s arm even further. Strangler reaches out with his right arm, which had previously been in the same armbar, trying to claw towards the ropes, which are still a good 30 inches away from his grasp. Strangler reaches forward, desperately trying to pull Jay Dawg along with him as he stretches every fiber in his body towards the ropes. Drazon does his best to keep Strangler away from the ropes, but TBS manages to get closer and closer before finally reaching out with everything he has and wrapping his fingers around the bottom rope. Mark Hebner rushes over to yell at JD to release the hold, but he does so immediately this time, which brings a somewhat surprised look to Hebner’s face.

 

Stevens: JD does something very rare and actually follows directions. I never thought I’d see the day…

 

Jay Dawg stomps away at Strangler’s left shoulder a few times, drawing more groans of agony from Strangler, before reaching down and grabbing ahold of TBS’s left arm. He yanks Strangler roughly to his feet, drawing another moan, before whipping Strangler towards the ropes. However, Strangler manages to reverse the whip, and sends JD flying towards the ropes. JD bounces off the ropes, and runs right back into Strangler, who lifts him up into a gorilla press slam again. JD struggles, but Strangler’s left arm starts to give out as he supports Drazon. Finally, Strangler’s left arm gives out, and JD goes sliding off Strangler’s hands. JD lands on his feet behind Strangler, and immediately applies a rear waistlock. JD lifts with all his might and throws Strangler over his head, hitting the release German suplex. Strangler lands on his neck behind JD, nearly landing on JD’s head, and rolls over to his side.

 

Riley: Here we go! Strangler’s arm has been weakened so badly that he can’t even hit his finisher! What’s he gonna do without the Boston Massacre?

 

JD hops to his feet, ignoring the huge boos from the crowd, and looks down at Strangler. Strangler is flat-out on his back with his eyes closed. JD looks at him and prepares to drop into position for the pin, but pauses halfway down. Hebner looks at him, and JD stands back up and heads for the turnbuckle. The boos intensify as Jay Dawg exits the ring and walks along the ring apron before scaling the turnbuckle. He gets to the top rope, and readies himself. Suddenly, Strangler hops straight to his feet and charges forward. He smashes his fist into JD’s head, which knocks JD into a sitting position on top of the turnbuckle.

 

Stevens: Strangler was just playing possum! He had JD fooled the entire time! Hey Riley, not bad for someone who has “tumbleweeds between his ears”, huh?

 

Riley: Everyone gets lucky once in a while. Tom Flesher wouldn’t have been fooled, that’s for sure!

 

Strangler smashes JD in the face with another right hand to the face, which sends JD leaning backwards. He reels, almost falling off the turnbuckle, but manages to keep his balance. Strangler turns around, placing his back to JD, and reaches upwards with both his arms. Strangler grabs ahold of JD’s arms and sets himself before pulling JD over his head and slamming him into the mat with a massive CRASH! Strangler falls to the mat in a sitting position as the fans explode. JD lies totally motionless in the middle of the ring, totally drained from the blow.

 

Stevens: Southie Slam! Southie Slam! This one is over, folks!

 

Strangler crawls over to the downed Hardcore Maniac, who is still totally motionless. He grabs JD’s right leg and hooks it with his right arm and covers Jay Dawg. Mark Hebner drops into position for the count as the fans chant along.

 

 

 

 

ONE!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!

 

 

Funyon: “Your winner, by pinfall, and the NEW #1 Contender for the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP….THE BOSTON…STRRRRRRRRRANGLER!”

 

“Godzilla” kicks up in the background as Strangler looks up, almost in disbelief, as Hebner reaches over and raises his hand into the air. A huge grin breaks out on Strangler’s face, and he points to the audience, who are going nuts for Strangler’s victory.

 

Stevens; He did it! He did it! Strangler pinned JD! What a matchup!

 

Riley: It doesn’t even matter! Strangler has no prayer of taking out Tom Flesher when he cashes in that title shot! Strangler might have beaten Jay Dawg, but so did Tom Flesher! And Tom isn’t going to let that SWF Title ever get away from him!

 

Stevens: Strangler whooped Tom Flesher all over the building on Lockdown, and he beat Jay Dawg, the only man in a LONG time to beat Tom Flesher cleanly, tonight! Strangler has all the momentum in the world right now, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be Tom Flesher right now!

 

Riley: Don’t lie, Stevens. You ALWAYS want to be Tom Flesher!

 

Stevens: Whatever, Riley. Anyways, I’ve received word that on Storm, we will indeed see the Boston Strangler, Frost, and Longdogger Pete taking on Tom Flesher, William Hearford, and Ejiro Fasaki in six-man tag action!

 

Riley: Another chance for Tom to prove his dominance! Most excellent indeed.

 

Stevens: We’ll just have to see about that one, Riley! Anyways, we’re done here for tonight! Until Storm, this is Mark Stevens, alongside Bobby Riley. Thanks for watching the SWF!

 

The camera fades out on Strangler, at the top of the entrance ramp, still with a huge smile on his face.

 

SWF Smarkdown, June 2, 2003

© White Apple Productions

All rights reserved.

[Guest Suicide King]

A rather interesting show to say the least, with all sorts of potential for zaniness. Expect a card in a couple of hours.