SWF Storm - Live from Monster Island!

June 7, 2003

The SWF Storm logo appears...and Mothra crashes right through it, those two little Japanese girls cackling with glee as they pilot the mighty moth monster with reckless abandon! Pyro explodes...and the mighty gas breath and lasers of Godzilla, Mechagodzilla, JET JAGUAR~! and many more explode into delight! Yeah! Woo! Monsters kick ASS!

SWF Storm

June 6, 2003

Live from the Monster Dome on Monster Island!

No DQ Handicap Match

Wild and Dangerous vs. Neilsen of the Jungle

Well, well, well... lookee who's healthy enough to wrestle again. Well, King is pretty sure that he can fix that! Why get Wild and Dangerous to do his dirty work, you may ask? Well, let's just say that if Wild and Dangerous are interested in standing out from an increasingly crowded tag scene (what with the Unholy Trinity and Chilly Dog gaining steam), they had best make sure that Neilsen is hurting.

Rules: None. Wild and Dangerous may be in the ring at the same time. Pinfalls and submissions count only in the ring.

Singles Match for the US Title

Mike Van Siclen vs. Michael Craven

Special Guest Referee: Sean Atlas

Well, MVS and Atlas seem to be heading toward a collision, but before that happens a dominant Michael Craven looks to stamp MVS down one more time. And surely Atlas can support that...

Rules: Standard rules. Only Atlas may render a decision. Atlas may write a match if he wishes.

Singles Match

Nathaniel Kibagami vs. Beezel

Kibagami has gathered some significant steam, with a pair of high-profile wins over the past few weeks. But is he ready for Janus at the PPV? I mean, is he really READY? King thinks not. What Kings thinks of Silent is immaterial however... what Beezel thinks is that he can take him. Let's see.

Rules: Standard singles match

Singles Match for the ICTV Title

Janus vs. Danny Williams

Williams has been, in a word, unstoppable. Janus thinks that that particular epithet should belong to the Heel Machine alone! These two mixed it up last week with quite a few other participants, but this time it is mano e mano. And King thinks this oculd be a great match, provided all of the interference monkeys don't hit the ring to advance their plotlines, those silly geese.

Rules: Standard singles match

Main Event

Six Man Tag

Tom Flesher and Justice and Rule vs. The Boston Strangler, Longdogger Pete, and Frost

The groundwork was laid on Smarkdown, and now the throwdown shall commence! Justice and Rule lost their last six man, and the history in this match would require an experienced novelist to list it all in the allotted space. So, since I'm still unpublished, I shan't try.

Rules: All tag rules enforced, including tag ropes.

June 7, 2003

“Good evening, fans,” says an excited Mark Stevens. “We’re coming at you tonight from Monster Island! We’ve got a few hours of unbelievable SWF action coming your way, starting out with a handicap match that will pit Neilsen of the Jungle against Wild and Dangerous!”

“There’s no secret that the Suicide King hates Neilsen,” adds Bobby Riley. “But, what truly intrigues me is how he’s decided to take Wild and Dangerous, two chumps that he hates only slightly less than Neilsen, and use them to take care of his light-work!”

“There’s no question that the Jungle King’s going to have his hands full trying to stay ahead of these two,” agrees Stevens. “Wild and Dangerous have recently gotten back on track, and with their near-limitless arsenal of double-team moves, they’re going to give Neilsen all he can handle!”

Without further ado, the speakers begin to pump out the hard-hitting beat of Disturbed’s “Sickness.” Neilsen emerges from the backstage area, holding a steel chair in front of him with both hands. Inside the ring, Funyon clears his throat before introducing the competitors. “Ladies and gentlemen, our opening contest is a Handicap Match, scheduled for one fall! Making his way towards the ring at this time, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing two-hundred forty-five pounds, Neilsen… of the Jungle!” Neilsen makes his way to the ring with slow, purposeful strides. He slides underneath the bottom rope, chair still in hand, and uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, at which point he walks to the nearest corner and climbs to the second turnbuckle. He raises the chair above his head with both hands and glares out into the crowd, shouting, “Roar, motherfuckers!”

“We should note,” says Stevens, “that Neilsen’s constant companion, Michelle, is not present with him at ringside for this match.”

“I hear rumors in the back on my way out here that Neilsen was concerned for Michelle’s safety here on Monster Island, and told her to stay back in Chicago,” replies Riley.

“Sickness” fades out while Neilsen is still standing on the turnbuckle, and the Jungle King looks in the direction of the SmarkTron with dismay as 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” begins to play. Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous step out from behind the curtain to a tremendous crowd reaction, and they interact with the fans as they bounce enthusiastically down the ramp. Johnny stops when he sets his eyes on a particular fan’s sign in the crowd, and he calls his partner back to him. Curious, Wildchild turns around and breaks out into a wide grin as he sees the sign. He walks over to where his partner is standing by the fan, and they pose together with the fan for the camera, whose sign, interestingly enough, reads, “I Came to See Wild and Dangerous!”

“How pathetic is this,” scoffs Riley. “How much did they pay that guy to make that sign?”

“Please,” groans Stevens. “Wild and Dangerous have fans all over the world! They use an exciting aerial style in the ring that appeals to a lot of fans. I can’t believe you’re surprised that there might be people who actually came here tonight to see these guys.”

“Well, at least they got here nice and early,” says Riley with a smirk. “After all, if you want to see Wild and Dangerous, you’ve got to get here early, seeing as how they’re curtain jerkers and all…”

“Knock it off,” says Stevens. “You wish you got the kind of reactions they did during your career.”

“I didn’t need crowd support,” replies Riley. “Unlike Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous, I actually WON matches…”

Before Mark can respond, Funyon’s voice begins to boom throughout the arena again. “And, his opponents, at a total combined weight of four hundred twenty-seven pounds, Wild! AAAAAAND Dangerous!” Johnny and Wildchild slide into the ring underneath the bottom rope and spring to their feet, posing for the fans as they cheer.

The referee, anxious to get the action going, immediately signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell before “In Da Club” even stops playing, and Wildchild and Johnny begin to circle Neilsen in the ring as their theme music finally fades out. The Jungle King, still wielding the chair, looks back and forth apprehensively between his two opponents. Turning to face Wildchild, he decides to take matters into his own hands…

DING!

Neilsen tosses the steel chair at Wildchild’s face, causing him to instinctively raise his arms in defense. The Bahama Bomber catches the chair, but leaves his lower extremities exposed to the Jungle King, who doubles him over with a kick to the groin! Johnny charges in behind Neilsen, but the Jungle King slings his arm back, bashing the Barracuda in the face with an elbow smash! He pushes Johnny back against the ropes, and grabs his arm to whip him towards the opposite end of the ring, but Johnny manages to put on the brakes and reverse the whip attempt, sending Neilsen into the ropes instead. Wildchild staggers over near his partner to assist him in a double team maneuver as Neilsen bounces off the ropes.

WHACK!

… But the Jungle King raises both his arms to shoulder level and bursts off the ropes with surprising speed, knocking both Wildchild and Johnny off their feet with a double-clothesline! Wildchild scrambles to his feet first, and is met in a scoop slam! Neilsen scoops Johnny up as he gets up, and slams him down as well.

SMACK!

The Jungle King turns his attention back towards Wildchild, but the Caribbean Cruiser recovers faster than he anticipated, and leaps into the air with astonishing speed, blasting Neilsen in the face with a dropkick! Wildchild grabs Neilsen by the arm and whips him towards the corner, but the Hardcore King reverses, sending him in instead. Wildchild leaps onto the second turnbuckle as he approaches the corner, and backflips over and behind that charging Neilsen. He raises his arm to capture Neilsen in a hiptoss as he comes out of the corner, but the larger man blocks the hiptoss attempt, and counters by punching Wildchild in the midsection with his free hand. As Wildchild is doubled over, Neilsen spins in front of him and applies a front facelock. The crowd, firmly Wild and Dangerous at first, show some signs of support for the Jungle King, and squeal in anticipation of his next move.

“McTwist coming up,” shouts Stevens.

WHAAAM!!

Neilsen spins around into an inverted front facelock and is about to drop down to deliver the McTwist, but Wildchild pushes the Jungle King off him, and he stumbles forward into Johnny Dangerous, who greets him with a Thrust Kick! Neilsen staggers backwards from the force of Johnny’s foot, and into Wildchild, who leaps into the air and nails him with a Zero-sen kick to the back of the head! Neilsen stumbles forward once more into the waiting arms of Johnny Dangerous, who scoops him off the mat with a double-leg pickup, and drops him back to the mat.

“Neilsen would be a tough matchup for either one of these guys,” says Stevens, “but together, they may be too much for the Jungle King!”

Johnny shifts Neilsen’s body until he is lined up with the ropes and calls for his partner, who runs to the ropes as Johnny locks his arms underneath Neilsen’s legs and falls backwards. Wildchild leaps onto to the top rope and curls into a ball as Neilsen reaches the apex of his slingshot, and springs off with amazing velocity, crushing Neilsen’s chest as the Jungle King is propelled into a devastating slingshot-Pinball combination! Johnny rolls right over to the fallen Neilsen, and applies a lateral press, and the referee dives into position to count…

ONE!

TWO!

THREEE--- No! Two count only!

“Neilsen’s taking a lot of punishment in there,” says Stevens, “but he’s as tough as they come! They’re going to have to knock him out to beat him!”

“That’s almost a blessing in disguise,” says Riley with a smirk. “As long as Neilsen wants to continue to fight back, Wild and Dangerous will just continue to beat on him!”

Johnny bends over Neilsen to pick him up, but the Jungle King surprises him with a sudden outburst, assaulting him with a series of right hands. He backs Johnny into a neutral corner and climbs to the second turnbuckle, signaling to the crowd as he begins a ten-count punch…

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

WHAM!

Wildchild creeps up behind Neilsen to save his partner, but the Jungle King sees him coming from the side of his eye, and leaps off the turnbuckle, drilling Wildchild between the eyes with an axe-handle chop! He backs Wildchild against the ropes and lays into the Caribbean Cruiser’s bare chest with a series of vicious knife-edge chops.

SMACK! WHOO!

Neilsen grabs Wildchild’s arm and pulls him off the ropes as Johnny recovers in the corner, whipping him towards the other side, but the Bahama Bomber reverses, sending Neilsen to the ropes instead. Johnny runs over to the center of the ring with his partner as Neilsen bounces off the ropes. The Jungle King tries to get the better of his adversaries with another double-clothesline, but this time, Wild and Dangerous drop down to a squatting position and lift Neilsen high into the air, holding him aloft for a few seconds before dropping him forward onto his back with a double spinebuster! Still holding onto his legs, they grapevine their own legs with his and lock arms, somersaulting forward and flipping Neilsen off the canvas, through the air, and back to the canvas with a sensational leg-whip powerbomb!

“Wow,” says an amazed Mark Stevens. “Wild and Dangerous are pulling out all the stops to try to get the win here. What an awesome series of double team moves they’ve put on display tonight!”

Wildchild looks down at the fallen Neilsen and his face lights up as he is suddenly struck by divine inspiration. He calls his partner over to him, and whispers his plans into his ear. Johnny’s eyes bug out in astonishment, and he looks at his young partner, shouting, “are you insane,” to which the Bahama Bomber only looks back at him with his trademark grin.

“What the hell was that all about,” wonders Stevens.

“Well,” replies Riley, “It’s obvious that Wildchild has finally gone off the deep end. He’s jumped off of too many rooftops, and now he’s finally burned up his last brain cell!”

Wildchild runs to the corner and leaps onto the top turnbuckle as Johnny drags Neilsen into position, lining him up with the turnbuckle. He turns around and looks at his partner, asking, “are you sure about this?” Wildchild responds with a simple nod and a wave, beckoning his partner to approach the corner. With slight trepidation, Johnny climbs up the turnbuckle and traps the Tropical Tumbler in a front facelock.

Riley scratches his head, a bewildered look on his face. “What the hell are they doing?”

Stevens shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine, Bobby!”

WHAAAAAMMM!!!

Johnny grabs Wildchild by the pant leg with his free arm and lifts him off the turnbuckle, falling backwards and driving the Bahama Bomber into the ring with a superplex…

… Right onto the chest of Neilsen! The crowd, now firmly back in the Wild and Dangerous camp, begin chanting in amazement of what they just saw:

HOLY SHIT!

“My God,” shrieks Stevens, “That kid is INSANE! Can you believe he just had his partner superplex him into the ring onto his opponent?”

“I told you,” replies Riley, “he’s burnt out all his brain cells! No rational person would ever do something that stupid!”

“That must have hurt Wildchild immensely,” continues Stevens, “but it may have hurt Neilsen even more! And Wildchild’s still lying on top of the Jungle King! The referee’s going to make a count!”

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEE—

KICKOUT!

“Oh my god,” cries Stevens, “I can’t believe that Neilsen is still alive after that superplex! This man just will NOT quit!”

Johnny backs Neilsen into a corner and climbs onto the second turnbuckle, deciding to return the favor to the Jungle King by initiating a ten-count punch of his own, as his partner recovers on the mat:

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!

Wildchild makes his way back to his feet, just as Johnny is completing his ten-count punches. He joins his partner in the corner, and they each grab one of Neilsen’s arms, whipping him to the opposite corner. They grab him as he bounces out of the corner, and whip him back to the opposite end.

“Neilsen’s really taking a beating,” laments Stevens. “Wildchild is sending him from pillar to post!”

“I know,” replies Riley gleefully. “I’m enjoying every second, and I know King is, too!”

Wild and Dangerous whip Neilsen back to the corner for a third time, and the exhausted Jungle King leans against the turnbuckles for support. Johnny walks towards the center of the ring and cups his hands in front of him as he turns to face his partner. Wildchild steps back into the corner to give himself some running room and then charges out, leaping into the air at Johnny, who catches him by the heel and lifts up with all his might, sending the Tropical Tumbler flying into the corner at the Jungle King!

WHAAAM!!!

… But Neilsen pulls himself out of the corner at the last second, and Wildchild crashes into the top turnbuckle face-first! Before Johnny can react, Neilsen dropkicks him in the back of the head, sending him stumbling forward. The Jungle King immediately pops back to his feet, flexing his fingers as he waits for Wildchild to stumble backwards out of the corner. The Caribbean Cruiser turns around, only to be met by a boot to the midsection, as Neilsen snares him in a front facelock.

WHAAAAAAAMMMMM!!!!!

“McTwist! McTwist,” screeches Stevens. “Dear God, he just knocked Wildchild out cold with a McTwist!” Neilsen drags Wildchild’s unconscious body out of the corner and falls on top of him as the referee dives into position to count the pin:

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEWHAAAAACK!!!

Unseen by Neilsen, Johnny retrieves the long-since forgotten chair from the mat and smashes it into the Jungle King’s back, breaking up the three count! Neilsen uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, but the Barracuda is waiting on him.

CRACK!

The audience lets out an obligatory “OH!” as the sound of a steel chair slamming into the back of Neilsen’s skull ring’s out, stopping the Jungle King dead in his tracks! Neilsen begins to teeter side to side. His consciousness fading in and out like someone quickly flipping a light switch on and off, over and over! The crowds watch, gasping in wonder on whether or not he can hold on!

“Johnny just may have nailed a soft spot on Neilsen there,” observes Mark. “He looks like he COULD be done for!”

Could be... but JUST to make sure, Johnny rears back on the chair once again, drawing it high over his back and he grits down on his teeth as Neilsen reaches back with one hand, patting the back of his head for the sticky red residue-

CRACK!!

-And sends the chair soaring down into the back of Neilsen’s head once again! Satisfied when the Jungle King slowly begins to fall forward, Johnny tosses the chair aside, and quickly climbs up to the second rope of the turnbuckle directly behind him as he hooks his arm under Neilsen’s with a half nelson, catching the Hardcore King before he slides completely off the top to the outside floor.

“He should have just let him fall,” says Riley. “It’s not like he can... wait a second... what’s he doing?”

The crowds begin to buzz as Johnny grabs Neilsen’s other arm and applies a Full Nelson (no pun intended), all the while still straddling directly behind him! With a loud grunt... the Barracuda REARS back as the crowds excitement grows, and TEARS Neilsen off his perch on the second rope, hauls him over...

WHAAAAM!!

... And SHATTERS his vertebrae all over the canvas as the crowds simply explode!

“HOLY HELL,” cries Stevens, horrified as Neilsen hits the mat neck first, and then slowly tumbles over onto his stomach! “That was a Tiger Suplex off the SECOND rope! Johnny Dangerous is simply determined to put the Jungle King away for good!”

The crowds rise to their feet, cheering wildly as Johnny crawls over towards Neilsen on his knees, rolls him onto his back and drapes himself over Neilsen for a cover. The Referee quickly drops down as usual to make the count...

ONEEEE!!

T

W

O

!

!!

THREE - “NO,” Shouts Mark as SOMEHOW - SOMEWAY Neilsen of the Jungle manages to thrust his arm into the air, freeing his shoulder off the mat, and sending the crowds into an absolute frenzy! “NEILSEN IS SIMPLY UNBELIEVABLE! He has taken hit after hit, his body has got to be done for, and YET... He REFUSES to stay down!”

“Just more proof of just how stupid Neilsen really is,” replies Bobby. “He just doesn’t know when to quit! As much as I dislike Johnny Dangerous, he has Neilsen beat, but the Jungle Freak is just too damn proud to admit it!”

Johnny pops back onto his feet, hovering just inches above the Jungle King as he lies flat on his back simply writhing in utter pain, but still refusing to throw in the towel. “Why must you take these things so damn far,” growls Johnny, reaching down to grab Neilsen by the back of his head with one hand, grabs under his arm with the other, and pulls the Jungle King slowly but surely to his feet! Johnny eases off Neilsen, letting him stand by himself, however shaky, and backs up to deliver a deadly Johnny Kick through Neilsen’s head.

Johnny takes a step forward, and kicks his foot out... Neilsen suddenly snatches Johnny’s foot out of midair, just an inch away from his head, sparking a huge roar from the crowds, and then Neilsen dives forward and SLAMS his arm across Johnny’s throat with a monstrous clothesline!

WHAM!!

“By God,” shouts Mark Stevens. “Just when you think you can count the Jungle King out, he makes a startling stride towards taking control of the match back! This is exactly why Neilsen does so well in the handicapped match environment!”

“He does so well because he cheats,” retorts Bobby Riley. “Take away all the chairs, whips, and chains, and you got one loser with a bad attitude, and that is all you got!”

Almost like he were hanging onto Riley’s every word, Neilsen hobbles over towards the chair that lies in the middle of the ring, and grabs onto it. With a sickening smile he studies the steel chair for a moment, then spins around and heads towards Johnny Dangerous just as the Barracuda is trying to pick himself up...

CRACK!!

... And slams the side of the steel chair into Johnny’s skull, instantly flooring the Barracuda! Though Johnny is sprawled across the mat, another shot is definitely in order, so the Jungle King rears back again... and plasters Johnny’s head into the mat with it!

CRAAACK!!

Neilsen slings the chair down, and grabs onto Johnny’s hair, pulling him to his feet...

“Here comes the Neilsen McTwist,” shouts Stevens. “It’s about to be lights out for Johnny Dangerous!”

“I don’t think the lights are even on in the first place,” quips Riley.

Neilsen holds onto Johnny with one arm, and throws his other out to the crowds. “Roar mother fuckers!” he shouts, eliciting a mighty cheer from the audience! Just then a battle weary Wildchild leaps up to the outside ring apron, directly behind the Jungle King. Knowing he has only a fraction of a second to move, the Bahama Bomber leaps up to the top rope, springs off with a back flip, and NAILS Neilsen in the back with a dropkick!

WHACK!

“A beautiful Shooting Star Missile Dropkick by the Wildchild - Wild and Dangerous still might be able to pull this one off!”

Neilsen is floored with the tremendous blast to his back, releasing Johnny from his grip... not that it matters much anyway, the Barracuda simply slumps over, and unintentionally rolls under the bottom rope, dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes, leaving Wildchild alone to deal with the Jungle King.

Grabbing onto Neilsen by his chin, Wildchild pulls him up to his knees, but with a LOUD grunt Neilsen wraps his arms around the Bahama Bomber, lifts him up, and runs him into the corner turnbuckle, ramming the Wildchild’s back into the steel post!

CRACK!

Wildchild raises his head towards the sky and lets out a howl of pain as he stammers out of the corner, holding dearly to his throbbing back! Neilsen cuts him off before he can go much farther than an inch away from the turnbuckle, blocking him back into the corner. With a hand grabbing the second rope on each side of the turnbuckle, Neilsen thrust his shoulder into the Caribbean Cruiser’s gut, then backs up... and RAMS his shoulder back in again... and again, and again, and again!

Stopping for only enough time to go grab his nearby chair, then turning back towards the Wildchild again. Neilsen grabs onto Wildchild by his neck, pulls him back up, and shoves him back into the corner turnbuckle, then grabs his chair by both hands, rears back high over his head, and...

WHUMP!

Out of absolutely nowhere, Johnny comes tearing into the ring and slings the toe of his foot deep into Neilsen’s gut, catching him completely off guard, and doubling the Jungle King over, but still holding tightly to the chair, and holding it directly in front of his face! Quickly, Wildchild leaps up, locking in a Guillotine Leg Drop, and SLAMS Neilsen’s head into the chair and canvas!

KA-RACK!!

“Caribbean Cutter,” shouts Mark Stevens. “And right into the very chair Neilsen was holding in front of his own face!”

“Thank God,” says Bobby, “I was beginning to worry that Neilsen might actually pull this one off.”

Wildchild waste no time rolling the Jungle King over onto his back, and making the cover.

ONE!!!!

TWO!!!!

THRE-NO!!!! Just as the referee’s hand is a nanosecond from making the third and final count, Neilsen tosses his foot up onto the bottom rope, breaking the count!

“Damn it,” says Bobby. “When the hell is he just going to give up?”

“This is Neilsen of the Jungle you’re talking about, Bobby. You know just as well as me and every other man, woman, and child in this arena that Neilsen is not going to go down if he can do anything at all to stop it!”

Johnny reaches down and grabs the Jungle King’s head with both hands, and jerks him to his feet! Reeling from the last blow, Neilsen doesn’t resist in the slightest, but just to make sure the Barracuda winds up... and smashes his fist deep into the Jungle King, sending him stumbling back and spinning completely around! Not a single word is said between Wild and Dangerous, but the pair simultaneously takes their positions. Wildchild ascends the corner turnbuckle just as Johnny Dangerous swoops in from behind and scoops Neilsen off his feet and onto his shoulders, grabbing some rising cheers from the fans in attendance, while those watching from the comfort of their homes grab onto their seats!

“Here comes the most devastating double team maneuver in the SWF today,” shouts Mark Stevens.

All the way from downtown - Wildchild leaps from the turnbuckle just as Johnny jumps up and begins to sit out, and latches his arm around the Jungle Kings head with a side headlock, and IMPACTS HIS HEAD INTO THE CANVAS, PASTING HIS BRAINS TO THE MAT WITH A BULLDOG!!

WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMM!!!!!!!!

“DANGEROUS DROP! DANGEROUS DROP,” cries Mark Stevens as a huge roar from the crowd bellows forth. “I don’t care who you are, there is no way Neilsen can continue any farther in this match!”

Both Johnny drops down to apply a lateral press on Neilsen, and Wildchild dog-piles on top of him. As usual, the referee makes the count...

ONE!!!!!!

TWO!!!!!!!

THREE!!!!!!!!!!

DING! DING! DING!

“Wild and Dangerous win!” cries Stevens. “And Wild and Dangerous just ENDED Neilsen’s handicapped match streak!”

“In Da Club” pounds its way out from the speakers and across the arena, as the Referee grabs an arm of each man and raises it up in victory!

“What a match, eh, Mark?” says Bobby. “Somewhere backstage I am sure the Suicide King is smiling from ear to ear.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him, Bobby. I really wouldn’t.”

Wildchild and Johnny exit the ring, and they continue to pose for the fans as they walk back up the ramp. As they reach the top, they are suddenly surprised to hear someone talking over the top of their music.

“Bravo! Bravo! Very well done, gentlemen!”

To Wildchild and Johnny’s joint surprise, their music fades out, and the SWF’s commissioner, the Suicide King comes out from behind the curtain, microphone in hand, and walks right past them on his way down to the ring.

“It’s the Suicide King,” shouts Stevens. “What the hell is HE doing out here?”

“Just admiring his handiwork,” replies Riley. “Anyway, what are you complaining about? You can never see enough of the King, after all!”

King walks up the steel stairs and into the ring, where he walks over towards where Neilsen is lying on the mat motionless. “You know,” he says, “I have to admit, when I told those two losers to take you out, I had my doubts. I mean, as pathetic as they are, I was afraid that they might have been up to the task. But, looking at you lying here in the ring, Neilsen, I can happily say that they exceeded all my expectations. And all I had to do was promise them a match against Justice and Rule. Of course, I never said that the match would be for the title, but,” King pauses to make a show of shrugging his shoulders, “such is life.”

Wild and Dangerous, who meanwhile are still standing at the top of the ramp, take exception to being called losers, and after hearing King’s last comments, decide to make their way back to the ring. The Suicide King, however, is oblivious to all of this, so intent is he on gloating over his fallen rival. He bends over Neilsen and gets right in his face.

“I told you,” growls King menacingly, “NOBODY crosses the Suicide King! I gave you the chance to do things the easy way, but you and your damned pride had to make things difficult! Well, now you’re starting to realize the price of incurring my wrath!

“I’m not though with you, Neilsen,” he continues as he stands up. “This was just the opening salvo. Consider today the first day of the end of your life…”

Suicide King turns to walk away, but runs right into the chests of Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous. “Is there something I can do for you two,” he asks with a snarl.

The crowd cheers as Johnny snatches the microphone away from Suicide King. “We couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation with Neilsen, particularly the part about you going back on your word to us!”

King grins evilly before ripping the microphone back out of Johnny’s hand. “Look, kid. I never promised you a title match, and if you and the clown-boy here chose to misinterpret my intent, well, that’s your damn problem!” King starts to walk past them, but Wildchild moves in front of him and takes the microphone away again.

“I beg t’ disagree,” says the Bahama Bomber. “If you’re goin’ back on your word, den dat’s gonna be YOUR problem! You tol’ us in de back dat you were gonna give us a title shot if we did your dirty work!”

Suicide King grabs the microphone away from Wildchild and looks at him with a sneer. “I lied! What are YOU going to do about it?” King is oblivious to what’s going on behind him, as Neilsen gets back to his feet and picks the chair up off the mat.

“Well,” replies Wildchild as he leans into the microphone, “right dis second, I’m not gon’ do anyt’ing.” He points behind King. “But HE might…”

Suicide King turns his head slowly and suddenly spies Neilsen out of the corner of his eye. He drops the microphone and dives under the bottom rope, just narrowly escaping a wild chair shot from the Jungle King. He runs for the ramp, but Johnny Dangerous is standing in his way. He turns around to go in the other direction, but finds the Bahama Bomber in his path grinning at him. He looks back into the ring and sees Neilsen holding the chair in both hands, spewing an unending stream of obscenities at him. Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor in this case, Suicide King elects to climb over the top of the ring barricade and flee into the crowd, ordering his hired security to form a phalanx around him as he runs to safety.

“What an amazing turn of events,” shouts Stevens. “We’ve had wall-to-wall action, and it’s only the first match! Stick around, folks, for lots more hot SWF Action!”

As we:

FADE OUT

June 7, 2003

As SWF Storm returns from commercial break, the crowd boos, "Heaven's a Lie" by Lacuna Coil playing through the arena. Sean Atlas stands in the middle of the ring, clad in a referee’s shirt that matches his mask.

Riley: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to SWF Snore! I am your captain, Bobby Riley-

Stevens: Bobby, the only thing you were captain of was your high school Hair Stylist Team.

Riley: And what if I was? Does that mean anything?

Riley: Hey, maybe we can get Ejiro to call up Godzilla!

Stevens: Bobby, Godzilla destroys Tokyo.

Riley: Really... I thought it was like Batman over here... they just call him up when they need him... and BAM! All taken care of.

Stevens: Well, before we get off topic, it’s SWF Storm, live from the Monster Dome on Monster Island, folks, and next up is Michael Craven defending his title against Mike Van Siclen, but with special guest referee Sean Atlas, the man standing in the ring right now!

Riley: No, silly, that’s Funyon! He’s the ring announcer-

Stevens: The OTHER man. The one with the mask.

Riley: ...You sure that’s not Eddy Long in a mask?

Stevens: Just shut up, Bobby... please...

TING! TING! TING! TING!

The four quick cymbals and even quicker guitar riff that begin “Damage Done” by Dark Tranquility blasts throughout the arena, as the lights go out, blue strobes flasing in time with the music. Mike Van Siclen steps onto the ramp, posing in a bent crucifix on the top of the stage! The crowd gives him a decent reaction as he steps down the ramp.

Funyon: The following contest is scheduled for one-fall, and it is for the SWF US CHAMPIONSHIP!!! Introducing first: from Harrison, Illinois, he weighs in at 237 pounds and is a member of CATCH-22... MIKE VAN SICLENNNNNN!!!

Van Siclen slides into the ring and extends his arms to the side, dropping his arms and letting his jacket slide off and to the mat. Atlas stares at it for a second, leaving it there as Van Siclen takes the time out to hop onto the turnbuckle, where he points to himself as the crowd continues their decent reaction.

Stevens: Mike Van Siclen’s trying to win back the US Title... but the odds are against him, especially with Atlas as the referee!

Van Siclen hops down, noticing his jacket still on the mat. He picks it up himself, staring at Atlas the whole time he walks over to the corner to drop it off... but just as he does...

“BOOM-BOOM BOOM... BOOM...”

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

Funyon: And From Tampa, Florida, weighing in at 280 pounds... ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the SWF US CHAMPION...

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Funyon: ...MICHAEL CRAAAAAAVEN!!!

He enters the ring by hopping over the top rope, landing on his feet. He climbs the turnbuckle closest to the crowd, points to himself, and then does a Steiner-like flex with his biceps, barely smiling as the crowd continues to boo him. Mike then hops off the turnbuckle, walks across the ring to another turnbuckle, climbs this, and repeats the whole thing, hopping off the turnbuckle as he focuses his attention on his opponent...

Riley: You know what would make this better?

Stevens: *sigh* What?

Riley: If there was a miniature model of Tokyo in that ring so they could get it on like Mothra and Rodan!!!

Stevens: I’m glad you’re not the commissioner, Bobby. I’m just glad you aren’t.

Craven hands off his title to Atlas, who looks at it, then holds it up into the air briefly before he throws it to the timekeeper. Craven seems irritated at Sean’s treatment of the belt, but Van Siclen steps forward, right up to Craven’s face. The Nightmare does not look pleased as he stares at Van Siclen, the Spectacle staring right back. The crowd, on their feet, cheers loudly while the two men stare each other down, both men backing off for a second, the excitement building as Atlas turns and signals lazily to the timekeeper...

DING DING DING!!!

And off we go in this match.

The action is fast and furious from the get-go, with Mike Van Siclen charging at Craven. The Nightmare moves to catch him, but Van Siclen knees him in the gut, Craven doubling over momentarily. Van Siclen hits him in the face with another knee, sending him to the mat. Craven gets back onto his feet, quickly ready to battle as he locks up in a collar and elbow tie-up. The Nightmare almost instantly wins it, though, quickly throwing a knee into Van Siclen’s chest before he grabs him around the head. Craven stomps the mat as he lifts MVS up, and falls back, rolling him into a hard snap suplex! Van Siclen hits the mat as Craven rolls over, pulling Van siclen back up, and once again, whips him back into a second snap suplex before he releases him. Craven sits up as Atlas relaxes, taking in the match right now like a fan in the stands.

Stevens: Sean Atlas... well... he looks like he’s bored and probably doesn’t want to be here.

Riley: It’s the fourth time these two have fought! I mean, can’t King find anyone else to fight Craven? Or are they all too scared to face a living legend?

Craven and Van Siclen get to their feet, but MVS gains a quick advantage with a forearm to the head. The Nightmare is stunned by the blow, looking dazed as Van Siclen draws his arm back, slamming into Craven’s face with another forearm! You can feel the momentum begin to shift a little as Craven staggers back, Van Siclen answering with another forearm blow as the crowd’s chants grow louder. Craven tries to answer back with a hard right hook, but Van Siclen blocks it, landing another forearm into Craven’s face in return! The Nightmare staggers back again, but now, Van Siclen grabs Craven by the arm and whips him to the opposite ropes! While Craven flies back from the ropes, Van Siclen drops to the mat, grabbing Craven around the ankles with his own ankles for a drop toe hold!!! The crowd cheers again as Craven trips up and goes face first into the mat, the hold not released as Van Siclen rolls over onto his back. And Atlas... well... he hasn’t done much.

Riley: Why isn’t he beating down on Van Siclen by now?!?!

Stevens: I don’t really think he cares. Either way it goes... he wins!

As Craven gets to his feet, Van Siclen grabs him around the head, throwing him over his shoulder with a snap mare! Craven lands on his tailbone, MVS moving quickly. He grabs Craven around the head and arm, squeezing tight with a dragon sleeper submission. Craven’s eyelids shut, his teeth clenching as he tries to fight through the hold. With a free arm, he plants it on the mat and pushes upwards, forcing himself up against Van Siclen’s wishes. MVS attempts to send him back down with a hard twist of his neck, and though Craven drops to a knee for a sec, it is not enough to keep him down. As soon as he gets to his feet, Craven begins to jab his free elbow both hard and rapidly into the ribs of Mike Van Siclen. The Spectacle takes the first with a grunt, the second with a small cry, but he still holds on, forcing Craven to reort to alternative tactics. Reaching up with his free arm, he grabs Van Siclen’s head, pushing it down on his before he drops to his knees. The resulting motion causes Van Siclen’s chin to smack into Craven’s skull, but it still gets MVS to release the hold! The Spectacle falls back onto the mat as Craven rises off his knees, heading for the ropes.

Stevens: Interesting counter from Michael Craven, who is trying to fight off Mike Van Siclen and keep his SWF US Championship!

The Nightmare hits the ropes, coming hard off them as he recovers from the dragon sleeper, setting Van Siclen up for a nice clothesline into the seventh circle of Hell. A rising Van Siclen catches a glimpse of him, unable to duck the oncoming blow...

“SMACK!”

But he sure as hell is able to counter it with a hard heel kick!

Stevens: Whoa! Heel kick counter from MVS! He caught Craven right in the jaw!

Riley: That’s an illegal kick! That boot is loaded!

Stevens: How do you know that? You can’t see inside the boot!

Riley: Then how do you know he doesn’t have something in there?!?!

Craven falls to the mat hard, landing on his back as Van Siclen drops down to cover him. Atlas drops down to the mat, too, making a count at his pace...

One!

Kickout by Craven! The Nightmare breaks the pin, both men down for a second as MVS looks up at the special guest ref. Atlas shrugs his shoulders in response, as if saying “What did I do wrong?” to Van Siclen, The Spectacle allowing The Nightmare to slowly trying to get to his feet.

Stevens: I think Van Siclen feels like Atlas was purposely counting slow...

Riley: What did he do? Is making a fair count wrong?

As Craven gets to his feet, he staggers back to the ropes, resting on them for a second. Van Siclen spots him in that vulnerable position, and as he gets to his feet, charges at Craven, lunging at him with an arm outstretched. Craven can’t stop Van Siclen as the two collide, the clothesline sending Craven out of the ring! He flips over the top rope to the outside, Van Siclen remaining inside the ring. The crowd pops as Craven hits the ground outside the ring hard with a “THUD!”. His head whips back into the ground, and he seems to grab the back of his head in pain as he slowly recovers.

Stevens: WHOA!! Van Siclen sends Craven flying over the top rope and to the outside!!! The Nightmare is down outside the ring, and it looks like he might have gotten hurt on that one, possibly!

Riley: That is as low as you can go! He sneaked up on a defenseless man!

Stevens: Yet if Craven or Flesher did it, it’d be just the opposite...

Craven slowly gets to his feet, woozy from the fall, looking up just in time to see Van Siclen springboarding over the ropes at him, legs thrusting out before they collide with Craven’s face! Both me ngo down as a result of the springboard dropkick, Craven’s neck and back slamming into the steel guard railing outside the ring!

“THUD!” Craven cries out after impact, Van Siclen on the ground, taking a quick break to catch his breath. After a few seconds, Van Siclen rises to his feet, the crowd cheering loudly for him as he grabs the downed Craven and pulls him to his feet. Once there, he grabs Craven from behind and lifts him onto his shoulder, playng Superman for a second as he staggers due to Craven’s weight. And then, he lets go, falling back...

Riley: No... he wouldn’t... not to a legend... he’s not gonna-

“WHAM!” Backdropping Craven’s neck onto the apron! The Nightmare’s neck takes another huge punding as he collapses to the ground, MVS falling onto his back while the crowd cheers for his pummeling of the US Champ.

Stevens: Did you see that?!?! Craven just got dropped BIG TIME onto his neck!

Riley: I saw it... and heard it. He can’t do that, can he? That’s endangering Craven’s life! He’s cheating!

Stevens: No he isn’t! It’s simple wrestling!

Riley: If he’s not cheating, then may the spirit of Chris Wilson come down from Heaven and strike me down!

Stevens: But Chris Wilson’s not dead.

Riley: Exactly.

Knowing he can’t pin Craven outside the ring, Van Siclen rises to his feet, the crowd cheering loudly for him as he grabs the downed Craven, rolling him back into the ring under the top rope. Craven ends up rolling onto his back as Van Siclen grabs the ropes and pulls himself up onto the apron.

Stevens: MVS in command over the US Champion, who is powerless right now to fight back!

As Craven lies on the mat, looking up at the lights, Van Siclen jumps up onto the ropes, not even balancing himself before he jumps off, and as Craven recovers from the stinging slam into the guard rail outside the ring, MVS flies through the air, spiringboarding his body as he adjusts into the sitting position, his leg dropping across Craven’s throat in, well, a springboard leg drop!

Stevens: A springboard version of the Van Siclen Guillotine! Craven takes another blow to the neck... wait! Van Siclen’s going for the cover!!! Here’s the count!

One!!!

Two!!!

...Craven somehow kicks his legs out and breaks the pin! Atlas holds up two fingers to signify the count, but the crowd roars back with boos of displeasure.

Stevens: A two-count ony for Mike Van Siclen, and perhaps he’s beginning to believe that Atlas is working against him, especially since the two have started to feud a little.

Riley: That’s the most ridiculous accusation you’ve ever made, besides me being gay.

Stevens: That’s not an accusation... that’s the truth!

As Van Siclen gets to his feet, Craven rolling onto his chest before he tries to get up, but Van Siclen quickly drops back down, driving a knee into the back of Craven’s neck! Craven drops to the mat, crying in pain as Van Siclen rises back up, delivering two quick stomps to Craven’s neck before he bends over. Grabbing Craven by the hair, he pulls him slowly up onto his feet, where Craven quickly swings his arm up into MVS’ crotch! The low blow stuns MVS, his eyes bulging out before he grabs his groin, but Atlas, for some reason, turns a blind eye to the move, causing the crowd to boo even louder than before!

Stevens: Oh come on, Atlas! DQ Craven!!! Stop being so damn bias!

Riley: He didn’t see it, Mark! If he doesn’t see it, he can’t call it!

Stevens: Oh, he saw it all right... he saw it...

Slowly, The Nightmare rises to his feet, grabbing Van siclen and pulling him up. Once there, Craven brings his arm back before he swings it forward...

“SLAP!”

... hitting a hard slap across the chest! “Whoooo!!!” replies the crowd as Craven draws his arm back and slaps MVS across the chest with another hard chop, causing the fans to go “Whoooooo!!!” again. Craven then grabs Van Siclen’s wrist and quickly whips him to the ropes as the crowd boos.

Riley: Look at him! Craven’s like Godzilla: He always kicks the other guy’s ass!

As Van Siclen comes off the ropes, Craven watches on with anticipation, swinging his arm out before he smashes it into MVS with a hard clothesline!

Stevens: What a clothesline from Craven! Van Siclen down hard on the mat, and he’s not getting up quick after that one!

Riley: See? Craven’s a legend. You can’t try and beat him by normal means! You have to use strategery!!

Stevens: Strategery? Who the hell are you, George W. Bush?

Craven grabs Van Siclen, pulling him to his feet before he knees him in the gut and whips him to the ropes. The Nightmare readies himself for his next move just as MVS returns from the ropes. As he approaches Craven, before he can react, Craven drops to the mat, and MVS is grabbed by Craven around the ankles with his own ankles for a drop toe hold!!! The crowd boos again as Van Siclen trips up and goes face first into the mat, the hold not released as Craven rolls over onto his back.

Stevens: Textbook drop toe hold-

The Nightmare grabs hold of MVS’ legs, crossing them as he clamps down on them before he reaches back and grabs Van siclen around the head, locking in a painful and devastating sickle hold on the Spectacle!!!

Stevens: Sickle hold on Mike Van Siclen!!!

Riley: Van Siclen’s screwed now!!! He’s gotta tap out!

MVS cries out in pain as he reaches out, trying to get to the ropes desperately. His arms are free, and using them, he pushes into the mat, slowly sliding himself along the canvas as he reaches out, each slide inching him closer and closer before he finally grabs hold of the ropes. Atlas spots this, demanding a rope break, but Craven refuses to release the hold!

Stevens: Craven refuses to release the hold!

Riley: Why should he?

Stevens: That’s grounds for disqualification!

Riley: And your point is? DQ equals Craven retaining!

Craven continues to hold on, MVS hollering in pain, but suddenly, Atlas puts a boot into Craven’s neck! The Nightmare releases the hold, grabbing his neck as he rolls off Van Siclen. He looks up at Atlas as he gets to his feet, confused as hell, the crowd roaring with cheers while he rises to his feet.

Stevens: Atlas makes Craven break to hold by force! That was certainly unexpected!

Craven gets in Atlas’ face, the masked man staring back at him before Craven snorts at him, showing his displeasure. The Nightmare turns back to Van Siclen, grabbing him by the head while he punds into him with the other hand. Moving behind Van siclen once he’s been pulled to his feet, Craven latches his arms around him in a waistlock, The Spectacle pulling him off his feet as he bends back and drops Craven onto his shoulderblades with a German suplex! Van Siclen lands on his neck, but Craven actually rolls through the move, letting his arms slide up. Once there, he catches MVS around the arms, and benidng back slams him to the mat with a dragon suplex! Craven, though, rolls through that as well, lifting Van Siclen up before he drops him down again with another dragon suplex!

Stevens: Chimera suplex!!! Craven’s first use of the move comes against his biggest rival right now!

Riley: He’s done! This has to be it!!!

Craven holds the pin in, Atlas a little late to notice, and rushing over he drops to his knees before he begins to count...

One!

Two!

THR-

Kickout by Van Siclen before three!!! Craven sits up in disbelief, his immediate attention drawn to Sean Atlas as Van Siclen grabs his neck in pain. He screams at Atlas about a slow count, but Atlas shrugs his shoulders, further irritating Craven as he gets to his feet. He wants to knock Atlas out right now, but he doesn’t instead, slowly moving to MVS. Craven takes hia aggression out on MVS, delivering several quick stomps to MVS’ neck. Grabbing Van Siclen by the hair, he pulls him slowly up onto his feet, grabbing him around the head and abruptly falling back into a hard DDT!

Stevens: Craven with a big DDT! Another drop onto Van Siclen’s neck by The Nightmare! How much more punishment can he take?

Riley: Craven’s pulling him back up, so it looks like we’ll find out!

As Van Siclen is pulled to his feet, The Nightmare nails MVS with two hard right hands to Mike’s temple, then grabs Van Siclen’s wrist and whips him to the ropes! Van Siclen hits the ropes, Craven bending over to grab him for a flapjack...

“SMACK!”

...But MVS hits Craven with a surprise rolling wheel kick to the face off the ropes! Craven is knocked upright as he staggers back, grabbing his forehead while the US Champion rolls to his feet.

Stevens: And Van Siclen counters with a rolling kick!

Riley: I’m not sure that’s even a kick. Looked more like a fluke to me...

As Craven staggers to his feet, facing away from MVS, Van Siclen lunges at him from behind, arm extended for a clothesline! Craven, though, just barely catches a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye, and in the nick of time, ducks the blow! Van Siclen runs past Craven, stopping and turning around just as Michael Craven brings his right forearm up and swings it down at MVS! Van Siclen brings both hands up, blocking Craven’s forearm smash as he grabs The Nightmare’s arm, running at Craven with it. In doing so, he wraps that arm around Craven’s neck before he falls back, hitting Craven with a vital Union Jack neckbreaker!!!!

Stevens: Blackjack Neckbreaker!!! Craven is down!!! Craven is down!!!

Riley: Crap!!! This can’t be it!!! He’s gotta get up, dammit!!!

Stevens: He’s going for it!!! Here’s the cover!!! This could be it!!!

Riley: Not while I’m alive it’s not!

MVS hooks Craven’s leg, the crowd counting:

One!!!

Two!!!

...Three?

Nope! Craven kicks out! The crowd goes silent, Atlas holding up two fingers as MVS looks up in disbelief. He thought... no, he KNEW he had Craven down for the three count, his anger now foucsed at Atlas, who might have made a slow count on purpose. He pushes off Craven to get to his feet scowling as the crowd cheers. Van Siclen backs off, already knowing what’s next: he’s going to nail Craven with the Riot Act and end it for good.

Stevens: He’s setting Craven up for the Riot Act!!

Riley: No!!!! He can’t lose! He’s a legend!

Craven staggers to his feet, but as he does, Van Siclen changes his mind and nails him in the gut with a knee! The Nightmare doubles over, where the Spectacle grabs him around the head and arm, and flipping forward, scissors Craven’s torso with his legs, squeezing tight as he drags the fan favorite to the mat with a guillotine choke!!!

Stevens: CRAVEN CLUTCH!!! CRAVEN CLUTCH BY MVS ON THE MAN IT IS NAMED FOR!!!

Craven tries to fight through the hold, the pain and pressure increasing upon his neck. His teeth clench in pain as he tries to fight out of the move. He is in a prone position, not able to push Van Siclen across the mat or roll over and roll to the ropes. Just when it seems like all the options are gone, Craven remembrs how to stop it. He plants one arm on the mat, and slowly, begins to fight his way onto his feet! The Spectacle tries to force him down, but the stronger Gulf Coast Hurricane manages to pull Van Siclen up. The crowd goes silent for a second, watching Van Siclen try to knock Craven back down, but the Nightmare lets go, falling forward quickly-

“SLAM!”

Van Siclen and Craven hit the mat, The Spectacle dropped to the mat with a certainly unique falling powerbomb! Or is it a spinebuster? Meh, same difference. Bobby can’t tell them apart anyways.

Stevens: Powerbomb!!! What a move from Michael Craven! Both men down in the ring, but the hold has been broken!

Riley: That’s why you don’t try this on legends, kids. You end up like Mike Van Siclen!

As Van Siclen lies out on the mat, Michael Craven grabs him and rolls him onto his stomach, still clutching his neck in pain from the last move. Craven, grinning at the opportunity to end this now, steps over Van Siclen with his right leg so that he's straddling the Spectacle. Craven steps in front of Van Siclen's legs, sitting down and pulling back so that Van Siclen's arms are trapped behind Craven's legs! Having Van Siclen's arms taken out of the picture, Craven is free to reach forward with both arms, clasping them together and then putting them across the bridge of Van Siclen's nose, pulling back to put Van Siclen into a crossface from the Camel Clutch position, a move Van Siclen usually uses called the...

Stevens: CARDINAL SIN CLUTCH! CRAVEN LOST THE TITLE BECAUSE OF THIS MOVE BEFORE, AND NOW HE’S GOIT IT ON MVS! HE’S PAYING VAN SICLEN BACK FOR THE CRAVEN CLUTCH!

Riley: YES! This is it!

The crowd erupts in boos at Van Siclen's signature submission, as Mike's face twists into a mask of pain, the damage Craven has delivered to his neck being amplified THREEFOLD, the submission quickly taking effect as the fans begin to chant “M-V-S!", hoping that Mike can break out of his own move. Craven remembers the belt, though, and tells himself he has to hold on, even as Atlas asks MVS if he wants to tap out. The Spectacle nods his head “No!” the best he can, the crowd popping as Van Siclen continues to hold on! Van siclen lets out a cry of defiance against the Nightmare, trying to wiggle free of the hold.

Stevens: This is humiliating for Van Siclen!

Riley: Well, why do you think Craven’s doing it? To teach him a lesson that you don’t screw around with a legend!

Craven, hearing Van Siclen’s defiant cry, just pulls back even harder on Mike's neck, SCREAMING at him to tap, tap away his chance to regain his title. Van Siclen reaches out for the ropes, but he’s not close enough, and although Van Siclen doesn't want to give up, he has only one choice! He brings his limbs up as far as he can, and in one quick movement escapes the hold!

“TAP! TAP! TAP!”

By tapping out to his own submission.

DING DING DING!

Funyon: The winner of this match by submission and STILL SWF US CHAMPION... MICHAEL CRAVEN!!!

Craven releases the hold, falling back, arms reaching out for the title. The timekeeper hands it to him as he slowly rolls out of the ring, crowd booing.

Stevens: What a cheap win for Michael Craven! Van Siclen put up his best fight yet, but Craven cheats to win!

Riley: Hey, he’s still champ, and that’s all that matters!

Stevens: Even so, we’ve got more SWF coming up next, so stay tuned!

June 7, 2003

Backstage we go near the catering table, as a nameless stage hand is seen conversing with one Taylor Nicholas Thompson...

SH: Nice job on Smarkdown, champ. Feeling better?

TNT: ... Yeah, I gotta say it felt pretty swank costing that little punkass a win last Monday. Still feeling a little dizzy from that bump on my head, but I can't *wait* to bury my foot in his ass at the pay-per-view. If I can just secure a match against him ...

The stage hand doesn't have time to react, as a sudden blow from behind NAILS Taylor in the back of the head, sending his head crashing into the wall! The shocked employee looks up to see Tod deKindes, looking down spitefully at his fallen rival, brandishing a chained fist.

Tod: ... (unfurling the metal from his hand, he addresses the stage hand) When he wakes up ... tell him the arrangements have been made. At 13th Hour, I'm officially challenging his ass to a match ... But just a "match" won't do. I want a fuckin' FIGHT with him. That means no DQ. I wanna finish him off. Mark my calendar, Taylor? June 22th, I'm gonna beat you and I'm gonna fuckin' RETIRE you ... Yeah, that's right ... Career Match. All I've done here, all that I believe in, all my accomplishments, all that I AM!! ... I'm gonna put it all on the line just so I can get rid of you.

Meanwhile, Thompson starts to regain his bearings, letting out a few grunts and groans ...

Tod: But judging by the state you're in ... I'd say it's already in the bag. (kneels down so that he can grab Taylor by the hair) ... Your time is running out, you son of a bitch. The games are over. At 13th Hour, this company will be too big for the both of us ... One has to go ... And I don't plan on going anywhere ...

He released his head, causing a painful thud on the floor for Thompson.

Tod: (drops the chain on him, once again addresses the stage hand) ... You gonna tell him that for me?

SH: ... Y-yes sir. I'll make sure.

Tod: Thank you. Very much.

As Tod calmly walked off, the stage hand quickly went down to check on the fallen Thompson, calling out for some medical attention.

...

June 7, 2003

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, ladies and gentlemen! For those of you tuning in now, you’ve just missed a US title match that is sure to be the cause of controversy in the back.”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mark. The referee made the right decision, at least in my opinion.”

“Riley, Van Siclen and Craven have enough history between each other without throwing Atlas into the mix. I can’t say I approve of the way the newest member of the Magnificent Seven handled the role of referee, but I suppose that’s beside the point. Next up is a contest between Nathaniel Kibagami and the masked man known only as Beezel. I’m not sure what King’s motivation was in making this match, but it looks to be a hell of a matchup on paper, regardless.”

“I’ll never understand why you’re such a fan of Kibagami’s. He’s barely able to walk, much less compete in the ring. He’s won two matches since he’s been back, and both by the skin of his teeth. No, scratch that, he’s won one of them – Danny and Dace did all the work in the six-man!”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Riley, so I’ll just say that he’s batting .500 right now, and in baseball, that’s a better average than most. Let’s go to Funyon!”

The camera pans around the Monster Arena, where many of the signs in the crowd are…completely unintelligible. Many of the signs appear to be statements of support for such bizarre things as ‘Anguilis’, ‘Megalon’, and ‘Rodan’, whoever (or whatever) they happen to be. Several members of the Monster Island audience are wearing Halloween costumes…costumes that look quite realistic, but costumes nonetheless.

Right?

The camera abruptly cuts back to Funyon as he walks to the center of the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen, this matchup is scheduled for one fall, with a thirty-minute time limit. Introducing first, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds, hailing from Phoenix, Arizona, he is the leader of Catch-22… BEEEEZEL!”

Rivers Cuomo's voice sings out above the audience.

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

A sheet of red pyro explodes at the top of the entrance ramp, obscuring everyone’s view. Through the resulting smoke comes Beezel himself. Catch-22’s masked leader can be heard singing softly to himself as he slowly makes his way down to ringside…

”I'm a lot like you, so please, hello... I'm here... I'm waaaaaiting….”

El Scorcho slides into the ring and begins stretching himself out using the ring ropes, largely ignoring Matthew Kivell as he checks the masked man for weapons.

The arena goes completely dark, save for the SmarksTron, where a red ankh, surrounded by flames, dominates the screen. For about five seconds, there is total silence – only the low buzz of the crowd can be heard.

“Introducing second, weighing in at two hundred and sixty-eight pounds…”

The entrance lights, now colored a dark red to match the ankh above them, slowly begin to rise as “Forty-Six and Two” begins:

I’ve been crawling on my belly,

Clearing out what could’ve been,

I’ve been wallowing in my own confusing

Insecure delusions

For a piece to cross me over,

Or a word to guide me in…

”Also hailing from Phoenix, Arizona….NATHANIEL KIBAAAAAAAAGAMI!”

I want to feel the changes coming down,

I want to know what I’ve been hiding…

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

“Kibagami was instrumental in his team’s victory on Smarkdown last week, but he took special care to avoid contact with Janus wherever he could. Knowing what kind of shape the man’s neck has to be in, you’ve got to wonder how well he’ll hold up when the two meet face-to-face at 13th Hour.”

”Christ, Mark, did you watch the six-man at all? There’s no question about it; Janus threw Nathaniel around like a rag doll whenever he could get his hands on him. It’s going to take some kind of divine intervention for Kibagami to walk out of 13th Hour under his own power, and a deal with the devil for him to actually win.”

Nathaniel makes his way to ringside, nodding to a fan here and there as he passes by, and slides into the ring. He rolls to his feet and agilely springs onto the nearby second turnbuckle, where he assumes the familiar crucifix pose, illuminated eerily in red for a brief moment before the lights come up and “Forty-Six and Two” fades away. He hops off the turnbuckle, cracks his neck for dramatic effect, and turns towards the opposite corner to face his opponent. Beezel begins to circle around his fellow Phoenix native, and Kibagami responds in kind. The two men circle each other cautiously as Kivell signals for the bell.

DING DING DING!!

At the sound of the bell, Beezel and Kibagami close the distance between them, meeting in the center of the ring. Nathaniel raises his hands, looking for a test of strength, and Beezel cautiously follows suit…

CRACK!

…and Nathaniel blasts El Scorcho with a stiff kick to the thigh, sending the smaller man hopping towards the sanctuary of the ropes! Kibagami follows in to press his advantage and sends another kick towards the masked man’s thigh, but Beezel abruptly sidesteps, and Kibagami finds his foot momentarily tangled in the ropes! Nathaniel pulls his foot back into the ring as quickly as it left…

CRACK!

…and is met with a spinning side kick to the ribs from El Scorcho, sending the stunned ex-Clansmen back into the far left turnbuckle!

“It’s not often that you see somebody that can kick as hard or as fast as Nathaniel Kibagami, but one of the few things we do know about Beezel is that the man has a background in the martial arts!”

”So now Nathan doesn’t even have that going for him. Great. I’m sure this will be even more fun to watch now that Kibagami can’t do anything to keep up.”

“Don’t be so sure of that, Riley. Beezel may have the speed advantage, but the masked man is clearly outmatched in the strength department. You may be in for a surprise or two.”

Beezel charges into the corner after his opponent, looking to catch Kibagami off his guard with a running elbow smash, but Kibagami gets his arms up and pushes El Scorcho away in midair! The masked man lands on his feet, and now Nathaniel comes charging out to the center of the ring, throwing palm strike after palm strike at Beezel, who sidesteps the first, blocks the second, and the third! Nathan throws a spinning back chop, and the masked man falls flat on his back to avoid it! Beezel kips up to avoid a kick to the ribs, and drops to his stomach as soon as he reaches his feet to dodge a leg sweep from Kibagami! Catch-22’s leader rolls out of the way of another kick and comes to a stop just inches away from Nathaniel’s right foot as it slams down into the mat, anticipating Beezel’s next move.

With nowhere to go, Beezel bridges up slightly and delivers a kick of his own to the base of Kibagami’s spine, sending the larger man face-first into the turnbuckle. Nathan shakes it off and turns around just in time to block a right hand from El Scorcho…then another…then another, before countering with a hard shotei to Beezel’s chest, sending the smaller man staggering back into the center of the ring! Nathaniel sprints towards his opponent and lifts his leg into the air for a Yakuza kick, but Beezel sees it coming and dropkicks Kibagami’s right leg out from under him! Kibagami stumbles to one knee, and El Scorcho bounds towards the ropes, looking for a modified version of Dousing the Flames, but Nathaniel sees it coming and rolls back to his feet as Beezel approaches…and Kibagami is caught by surprise as Beezel changes his mind mid-sprint and plants a high dropkick right in the larger man’s face!

“What a breathtaking display of finesse from…from both competitors!” breathes Stevens.

Riley snorts derisively. “I see a lot of flip flopping around, Stevens, but I don’t see any finesse.”

“That’s because you’ve spent the majority of this match reading this month’s SWF magazine.”

”Well, it has lots of pictures of F…final moments…of…of the Battleground main event. You should read it sometime, Mark. It might teach you something about wrestling.”

Kibagami regains his footing, looking a little confused. He moves towards Beezel again in the center of the ring – a little more cautiously this time.

“Kibagami’s obviously uncomfortable with somebody who can beat him at his own game in there.”

”I’m not sure about that, Riley. He looks a little…confused, I think, but I wouldn’t say he looks uncomfortable. Odd.”

Nathaniel raises his hands, palms facing outward, offering his opponent a test of strength…Beezel reluctantly obliges, grasping both of Kibagami’s outstretched hands. Once a firm grip has been established by both men, they slam their shoulders against each other, each looking for a sign of weakness in the other…Nathan pulls Beezel’s arm between his legs, looking for an early Exploder, but Mr. B wisely transitions to a waistlock to avoid it. Kibagami moves to counter the waistlock, and Beezel responds by raising his arms and wrapping them around the larger man’s throat, maintaining his advantage with a choke sleeper. Nathaniel instinctively drops his chin and tries to roll out of the hold, but Beezel holds on for dear life as his opponent drops to the mat, and ends up getting a reverse chinlock out of the exchange.

“Nathan and Beezel going to the mat, an unusual tactic for the masked man, at least.”

“Kibagami’s a fish out of water right now himself, Mark. All the man seems to do nowadays is wave his feet around in the air and hope somebody’s stupid enough to run into them.”

“You’ve got quite the selective memory as always, Riley. Kibagami has a lot of experience wrestling overseas, and before he left the Clan, he made a name for himself in the SWF as a sound mat technician. If he can’t match Beezel’s speed, he can certainly wear him down on the mat.”

As Bobbi and ‘Grand Slam’ banter relentlessly back and forth, Kibagami manages to slip out of the chinlock and pull Beezel’s right arm behind him as he darts to the right, forcing the smaller man face-down onto the mat using the pressure from the hasty hammerlock. After tightening his hold on Beezel’s arm, Kibagami pushes off the mat with both legs and drives his left knee into Beezel’s shoulder before rolling away and allowing the other man to get to his feet. Unfazed, El Scorcho kips up from the mat and charges Nathaniel, perhaps attempting a lariat, but the ex-Clansmen sidesteps Beezel’s rush and grabs a sleeper hold on the way past. Not wanting to hold still long enough for his opponent to counter, Kibagami swings around Beezel’s left and cinches him up for a suplex, but El Scorcho fights it briefly, trying to counter with a suplex of his own!

For a moment, Beezel manages to hold his own against the larger Kibagami, but a grunt and a heave from Nathaniel succeed in lifting El Scorcho in the air for a moment, before the martial artist manages to squirm free of Kibagami’s grasp! Landing deftly on his feet behind his opponent, Beezel pulls a surprised Nathan’s head back into an inverted facelock before driving him to the canvas with a reverse DDT! The crowd pops big for the masked man as Beezel scrambles into position for the first cover of the match!

ONE!

TWO! – Kibagami is quick to kick out of the pinning predicament, and El Scorcho clamps his arms down on Nathan’s head, applying a side headlock to try and keep the pressure on his opponent!

“Wise maneuver by Beezel. That side headlock is often employed with great efficiency by none other than the World champion, Tom Flesher!”

”Because Flesher’s too lazy to think of another counter. In this case, the side headlock is both appropriate and intelligent. It doesn’t give Kibagami an opening to attack, and it keeps the pressure on him. I’m surprised to see Beezel keeping up with Nathan so well on the mat…”

Nathaniel quickly powers to his feet, hindered only slightly by Beezel’s tight grip on his skull. The ex-Clansmen latches his hands around Beezel’s waist and heaves up and back, looking to counter the headlock with a simple backdrop, but the masked man manages to use the momentum to backflip out of his opponent’s grasp and land on his feet! Kibagami’s balance is suddenly a little shaky with the sudden departure of Beezel from his hands, and a well-placed dropkick to the back of the knee sends Nathaniel crashing to the canvas!

“The masked man has remained one step ahead of Nathaniel all throughout this match, with an almost uncanny sense of what Kibagami intends to do next…wait, what’s he doing now?”

Beezel hops deftly over the top rope and onto the ring apron, sizing up the ex-Clansmen in the center of the ring as he slowly rises to his feet, trying to shake off the effects of the dropkick. As Kibagami is regaining his bearings, El Scorcho leaps onto the top rope, crouches on it for a brief moment, then somersaults forward towards Nathaniel…

Kibagami falls forward for a brief moment, then lurches backwards out of Beezel’s reach as he realizes what the masked man is attempting to do! Nonplussed by Nathan’s evasion of the maneuver, Beezel manages to land on his feet as the crowd pops like a cherry on prom night for the first Scum Gale attempt the SWF has seen in six months!

“Beezel almost ended the match right there with a picture-perfect Scum Gale, and now I have to say that Kibagami does look a little stunned!”

”Beezel is Thoth! I knew it all along! Thoth is Beezel!”

”Calm down, Riley. It’s probably just a coincidence. You and I both know Beezel’s predilection for using other people’s finishers. He’s probably just trying to psyche Nathaniel out. Besides, Thoth’s in Aechiba right now…” Mark pauses for a moment. “Isn’t he?”

The two men approach each other in the center of the ring for the third time…

CRACK!

Beezel almost goes down from a hard roughhouse to the side of the head, the force of the blow knocking the fiery mask slightly askew! The masked man stumbles back, trying to adjust his costume, as Kibagami closes the distance, a steely look on the ex-Clansmen’s face.

“Nathaniel’s a dangerous man to play mind games with, Riley…that Scum Gale attempt may not have had the effect that Beezel intended.”

CRACK!

Four sharp kicks to Beezel’s left thigh send him crashing to the mat, and a dispassionate-looking Kibagami ignores Kivell’s admonishment as he drags the masked man into the center of the ring and applies a standing half-crab. Beezel struggles as best he can, but Nathaniel is the much stronger of the two, and the little progress El Scorcho is able to make towards the ropes is quickly halted as Nathan pulls even harder on his opponent’s left leg. Kibagami cranks back as far as he can, placing his other foot on Beezel’s head and grinding his face into the canvas.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

An aggravated Kibagami releases the hold at the referee’s behest, but not without drilling Beezel’s leg with one more sharp kick as he backs away.

“Nathaniel doesn’t take very well to an opponent trying to psyche him out,” observes Stevens, “And it seems like Beezel’s going to end up learning that lesson the hard way.”

“It’s about time he showed a little fire in there, Mark. Did you see the look on his face when Beezel tried the Scum Gale? He’s going to try and take the little flamer’s leg hope as a trophy, I bet!”

Mark shoots a stern look at Riley. “You know, Bobby, there are some insults that you just shouldn’t use.”

Beezel limps a little as he tries to get to his feet, and Kivell checks to see if he’s able to continue the match…but Kibagami brushes right past him and tries to catch the masked man unawares with a rolling elbow! El Scorcho ducks underneath at the last possible moment and pops up behind Kibagami. Beezel cinches in a waistlock and looks for a German suplex, but Nathaniel quickly breaks the hold, grabs Beezel’s left arm, and pulls him over his shoulder with an ippon seionage! The masked man falls forward…and plants his feet solidly on the ground, bridging back up and drawing applause from the crowd.

Unfazed by Beezel’s flexibility, Kibagami quickly grabs an inverted facelock, preventing his opponent from reaching his feet. Nathan wraps his free arm around Beezel’s left shoulder, applying a standing dragon sleeper of sorts, before dropping to his stomach and bringing the back of El Scorcho’s head crashing into the mat!

“What an innovative maneuver!” exclaims Riley as Kibagami hooks Beezel’s leg for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Beezel kicks out, throwing his free shoulder up off the canvas and almost smacking referee Matthew Kivell in the face as he does so.

Mark Stevens grimaces at the announcer’s table. “Beezel must’ve gotten under Kibagami’s skin more than I thought. I haven’t seen Nathan use that move since…well, since…”

”Since he was Silent!” exclaims Riley. “You know, if he fought like this more often, he might start winning matches again, you think?”

Kibagami picks Beezel up by the hair and yanks the smaller man to his feet. Grabbing hold of the masked man’s arm, Nathan whips El Scorcho across the ring and into the ropes. As Beezel comes bounding back towards him, Kibagami wraps his arms around his opponent’s waist, looking for a belly-to-belly suplex, but Beezel shifts his weight in midair, grabs a hasty front facelock on the surprised ex-Clansmen, and drives him headfirst into the canvas with a makeshift tornado DDT! The crowd applauds Beezel’s ingenuity as he rises to his feet and turns his attention to Kibagami, who lies motionless on the mat. El Scorcho attempts to pick Nathaniel up by the hair…but Nathaniel doesn’t budge! Beezel tries again…still no movement from Kibagami!

“I think Nathan took a bad bump on that DDT, Riley! He might be out of this match!”

”See what happens when you let people in the ring against their doctor’s wishes? I hope he doesn’t think he’s going to get any kind of workman’s comp for this.”

Beezel shrugs and drops to the mat to make the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE! – FOOT ON THE ROPES! Beezel slams the mat in frustration, but he doesn’t waste any time arguing with the referee’s call. Instead, the masked man grabs hold of both Kibagami arms and drags his limp form into the center of the ring. Once he’s far enough away from the ropes, Beezel drops to the mat and locks a crossface hold on his opponent, wrenching back on Kibagami’s injured neck! Jolted back to the here and now by the sudden onrush of pain, Nathaniel grits his teeth and begins pulling himself back towards the ropes, but Beezel counters by locking his legs around Kibagami’s right arm, leaving only one arm free for the ex-Clansmen to continue his pursuit of the ropes.

“Beezel smartly taking advantage of Kibagami’s neck and trying to wear him down with that crossface hold. I can’t say I’ve ever seen somebody take the fight to Kibagami like this before, Riley.”

“Well, maybe you just haven’t been paying enough attention in the last few weeks, Mark! He got schooled by Judge, he lost to Frost, he barely managed to beat the US champion – Kibagami’s not the man he was, Stevens, and Beezel knows it just as well as I do.”

Back in the ring, Nathaniel struggles as best he can to reach the ropes, but with only one arm free to do it and Beezel doing his best to separate his head from his shoulders, his progress is virtually halted. With nowhere to go, Kibagami raises his free hand…plants it firmly on the canvas, and begins powering to his feet! El Scorcho pulls back on his opponent’s neck even harder than before, but to no avail – Kibagami stands to his feet, shifting a surprised-looking Beezel around on his shoulders as he does so!

Nathan stands still for a moment, assessing the situation. Beezel squirms wildly on his shoulders, doing everything he can to get his feet back on the mat. Kibagami happily obliges, tossing Beezel up and off of his shoulders in one smooth motion, leaving the masked man to land stomach-first across the ex-Clansmen’s bended knee! El Scorcho rolls away from Nathaniel, desperately gasping for air, and Kibagami closes the distance…

CRACK!

…and drives the toe of his boot into the exposed ribs of Beezel with an uncanny precision!

CRACK!

Two more kicks send Catch-22’s leader into the relative safety of the ropes, and Kivell restrains Nathaniel (as best a referee can restrain a professional wrestler, at least) from continuing his assault. Kibagami retreats to the far right turnbuckle and puts his hand to his neck, trying to shake off the effects of the tornado DDT before Beezel can get to his feet.

“Both men taking a breather, and it seems that Beezel’s feeling the effects of that gutbuster acutely.”

“A lucky shot, that’s all. Seems to me that’s all Kibagami’s offense consists of any more – and luck always runs out, sooner or later.”

Kibagami sees Beezel rising to his feet and begins to stalk across the ring, rapidly closing the distance between himself and his opponent. The masked man staggers to his feet in anticipation of Nathan’s onslaught…

CRACK!

…but a pair of sharp kicks to the ribs send Catch-22’s leader to the mat again, desperately gasping for air!

”Jesus! He might’ve bruised a rib!”

”Cracked a rib is more likely. You know…that was kind of entertaining, Mark. Why can’t Kibagami do this sort of thing more often?”

Stevens grimaces at the suggestion. “I think he could, Riley. I really think he could.”

Kibagami grabs a handful of Beezel’s hair and pulls the still-gasping El Scorcho into the center of the ring. Without so much as a glance at the fans surrounding him, Nathaniel applies a standing head scissors to Beezel, wraps his hands around his opponent’s waist, and heaves him up off his feet! Beezel sits dazed on Kibagami’s shoulders for a long moment…before being brought crashing down to the mat with a vicious foldover powerbomb! Nathan bridges over, pushing Beezel’s shoulders to the mat, and Kivell is ready and waiting to count the pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING!!

”Your winner by pinfall…Nathaniel Kibagami!”

”Forty-Six and Two” hits the speakers…but when it does, Kibagami is already out of the ring, an angry look on his face as he strides back up the ramp. Back in the ring, Kivell helps a winded Beezel to his feet as best he can.

“Nathan saw something in that ring tonight he didn’t like, Riley. I’m not sure exactly what it was, but it seems to have propelled him to a very decisive victory tonight!”

”He was focused, Mark. He was focused and he kept Beezel away from his neck, for the most part. I suppose that he’s decent when he’s able to do those two things – but do you really think he’ll be focused on pay-per-view, with Janus breathing down his neck?”

Kibagami stops at the top of the ramp, seemingly oblivious to the cheers of the fans, and spares one backwards glance at the man still in the ring before striding briskly through the curtains to the backstage area.

“That remains to be seen, Riley. That remains to be seen. Stick around, folks! We’ve got more exciting SWF action as soon as we return from these brief messages!”

June 7, 2003

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Storm, coming up right now we’ve got Janus taking on Danny Williams for the coveted ICTV Championship!

Riley: I don’t know about the rest of you, but I for one felt cheated after the six man last week. That coward, Danny Williams never once stepped into the ring with Janus, not one damn time. But tonight, Williams won’t have any partners to hide behind, he’s gonna have to face the Hell Machine alone.

The natives are growing restless, two tiny girls are singing about something called a “Mothera”, but the chant doesn’t catch on. Dressed his best always, Funyon enters in the ring, clears his throat, and speaks into mic...

Fuynon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is for the ICTV Championship! It is scheduled for one fall, and will be at a 30 minute time limit.

And than there was darkness as the lights go out, blanketing the arena in shadows. Soon, a light appears, it is the warming flow of the Smarktron which is showing an image of a young man with a Billy Idol dye job. As the strains of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" echo through the arena, cracks slowly begin to weave through the image, and blue pyro flies begins spewing out on both of sides of the entrance ramp. Before Funyon can speak, the voice of Burton C. Bell carries through the arena.

"Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave..

Life that's slipping AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!"

As the heavy riffs roar out of the speakers, the crack-riddled image explodes like a shattering mirror, revealing the face of Janus as he is now, with a scowl on his face. His name flashes up in green text, and it proceeds to play clips of some of his more brutal, disturbing, goriest spots, such as the hardcore bear hug that defeated Jay Dawg.

Funyon: Introducing first, the challenger, tipping the scales at 350 pounds, and hailing from Sydney, Austraila..........JANUS!

Moving slowly yet with a purpose, Janus stalks his way down to the ring like only a Hell Machine can. Flexing his grotesquely swollen biceps, Janus enters the ring to a chorus of “boos”. Standing tall in the center of the ring, Janus thrusts his arms into the air....and with a deafening explosion, a pillar of blue fire explodes from each turnbuckle simultaneously as the lights come back on. The natives in the crowd freak out, chatting amongst themselves, coming to the conclusion that Janus is either a god or some type of evil foreign demon.

Stevens: Last week, the Hell Machine picked up arguably the biggest victory of his career, scoring a dominating upset over former ICTV Champion Jamie Drazon.

Riley: Yeah, the Hell Machine has been raising hell as of late. Very few men have that unbeatable, untouchable aura to them, and Janus is one of those men.

Stevens: Tonight, Janus is looking to take the next logical step up from that victory and take a stab at the man who also defeated Jamie Drazon, the current ICTV Champion Danny Williams.

Riley: While I’m sure Janus wouldn’t mind being the ICTV Champion, this is just an appetizer for the main course, that main course being Kibagami.

The ear bleeding feedback of Fear Factory fades out, only to be replaced by the quiet and gentle melodies of In Flame’s “Jester Dance”. At the sound of the familiar music, the crowd instantly goes into a “DAN-E!” chant.

Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at 243 pounds, hailing from Louisville, Kentucky.....THE SWF ICTV CHAMPION.........DANNY WILLIAMSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

The belt wrapped tightly around his waist, Williams steps out of the locker room, his fans greeting him with a warm applause. Showing no fear, Williams proudly marches down to the ring with his head held high.

Stevens: Though it may sound cliched, it is no exaggeration, Danny Williams is facing the greatest challenge of his career tonight.

Riley: You an’t kidding. Williams had to pull a miracle out of his ass to defeat J.D., while Janus simply destroyed him.

Stevens: Indeed, you have to wonder what has to be going through Danny Williams’ mind, tonight. Having watched Janus easily defeat a man that he barely defeated has had to have some type of effect on his psyche. Regardless of the outcome tonight, I think this match is going to make both men stronger.

Not unlike a caged animal, Janus paces and back forth in his corner, his predator like eyes set on his prey across the ring. Despite knowing the horrors that Janus is capable of creating, Williams keeps his composure, standing tall and confident. Since both men are in their corners, ready for battle, Soapdish sees no reason as to why he should delay the start of the contest any further.

DING! DING! DING!

The crowd is a buzz, ready for some hard hitting heavyweight action as the match begins. Danny and Janus lumber out of their corners, the alarming size difference becoming more and more apparent as they get closer to one another. Despite having a wide powerful frame, Danny is dwarfed by Janus, who is so large he resembles a bear standing up on it’s hind legs. The two muscular grapplers turn all but one circle, before clashing together in a collar elbow tie up! Using quickness and technique, Williams swiftly grabs a side headlock, not letting Janus’ power advantage come into play.

Riley: Does Danny really think he can hold that monster in a headlock?

Stevens: He’s got to try something, Riley. Williams needs to control the match and wear that big man down, and a side headlock is a good way to accomplish that goal.

Williams drops to one knee, forcing Janus to double over, squeezing his head with his swollen bicep. Knowing he can’t let Danny control the match, Janus comes up with an escape plan. With the use of his tree trunk like legs, Janus runs Williams into the ropes, shooting him off! Danny flies across the ring, hits the ropes, and comes speeding back at Janus, thrusting out his shoulder for a football tackle!

BOOOM!

Williams bounces off Janus’s thick chest like a tennis ball bouncing off a brick wall!

Stevens: And a huge shoulder block sends the Champion to the mat!

Riley: Williams is foolishly trying to match power with Janus, a strategy that will undoubtably lead to a gruesome death.

Dazed and sore, Williams struggles to get back to his feet, but Janus whelps his back with a heavy, stiff Double Axehandle!

SMACK!

His back instantly swelling up and turning red, Danny doubles over with his hands on his knees, crying out in anguish. Liking the result, Janus once again brings his massive arms down on Danny’s back!

SMACK!

The heavy blow drops Danny to one knee, while Janus nods his head to the crowd, letting them know who’s running the show. With relative ease, Janus scoops Danny up, and throws him back to the mat with a thunderous slam!

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

Williams bounces off the mat like a rag doll, the impact sending tremors through the arena like an earthquake!

Riley: Damn, that Janus has got a nasty Body Slam!

Yanking the sore Champion up by his arm, Janus smiles to himself, confident that he has the Danny right where he wants him. Janus forcefully shoves Williams into the ropes, launching him across the ring with an Irish whip! As Danny rebounds off the ropes, Janus scrambles ahead to meet him, extending his leg for the High Kick!

Stevens: Big boot on the way!

But Danny ducks, bouncing off the ropes once more, picking up a full ahead of steam for his return run! Janus hurries around, but he’s too late as Williams springs into the air...

CRAAAAAACK!

caving in Janus’ face with a Jumping High Kick!

Stevens: DYNAMIC KIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!

The crowd roars with approval at the sight of Janus dropping to the mat, obviously rattled by the stiff kick! Knowing that he’s in no condition to fight off a pin attempt, Janus wisely rolls out of the ring, before Danny can capitalize.

Riley: Having brains as well as brawn, Janus is gonna take a breather, breaking up Danny’s momentum.

Carefully eyeing Janus up, Williams drops back into the ropes, sling shooting himself across the ring at break neck speed to the delight of the crowd! Upon reaching the edge of the ring, Danny bravely dives head first through the ropes, driving a hard elbow into Janus’ jaw!

CRAAAAAAAACK! CLANK!

Janus blows back into the guardrail, while Danny lands safely on his feet!

Stevens: ELBOW SUICIDAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Moving rather quickly, Williams slides into the ring, and excites the crowd by swiftly scaling the turnbuckles! Danny balances himself on the top ropes, and with no concern for his own body, dives out of the ring, catching Janus with an Elbow Smash on his way down!

CRAAAAAAAAAACK!

Once more, Janus finds himself on intimate terms with the floor.

Stevens: ELBOW PLANCHAAAAAAAAA!

The string of high spots warms up the crowd up considerably, and a frenzied “DAN-E!” chant soon emerges from the sea of cheers. As the crowd chants his name, Danny strains to get his heavy opponent on his feet, and back in the ring. Having accomplished the laborious task of rolling Janus in the ring, Williams wipes some sweat from his brow, but rather than following Janus in, he chooses to once again ascend the turnbuckles. The crowd is completely flabbergasted at the idea of another high flying attack.

Stevens: And once again, Danny Williams is preparing to take flight!

Riley: Danny can’t keep this hell on wheels pace up forever, Stevens. He’s gonna get tired, and he’s gonna get slow, and when that happens, he’s gonna get caught.

Janus stumbles to his feet, unaware of the lurking danger in the skies above him! Camera flashes light up the arena, silhouetting Danny Williams as he glides through the air, stuffing an elbow into the challenger’s face!

CRAAAAAACK!

Janus hits the mat with a heavy thud, holding his jaw and wincing!

Stevens: DIVING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

Out of breath and now soaked with sweat, Williams slowly climbs to his feet, taking a few steps back from Janus, creating some distance between himself and the challenger. Letting the fans know exactly what’s on his mind, Danny pats his elbow, prompting them to get off their asses and make some noise.

Stevens: Danny’s calling for the ROLLING ELBOW!

Riley: Williams is looking to end this match right now, before Janus gets another chance to go back on offense, because deep down the ICTV Champion is scared of what will happen if Janus takes control of the match.

The swollen jawed Janus makes an effort at getting back to his feet, when Williams spins at him, firing a roundhouse Elbow Smash...

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOW!

but Janus ducks under his arm, and clamps his powerful hand around Danny’s throat! In an instant, Janus palms Danny’s back, and lifts him off the mat...

Stevens: NO, NODOWA OTOSHI!

however, Williams frantically kicks his legs back to the mat! Using the sudden shift of downward momentum to his advantage, Danny quickly drops to his knees, flipping the surprised Janus over his shoulder with a smooth Judo Throw! The crowd breathes a sigh of relief, but Williams isn’t so lucky, having to stay on the move if he wants to survive. Without a second to lose, an exhausted looking Williams sluggishly rushes to his feet, and runs into the ropes, rocketing at Janus as the big man struggles to a vertical base! His target in range, Danny draws back his arm for the Running Elbow.......

CRAAAAAAACK!

but Janus swings his big leg up, flooring Danny with a face shattering High Kick! With Danny down and out, Janus briefly drops to one knee, shaking off the remaining effects of Danny’s early high flying offense.

Stevens: Twice, Danny Williams tried to swing a home run, and twice he struck out, leaving Janus in complete control of the match.

Riley: See, this went down exactly the way I said it would, Stevens. Danny failed to take Janus out early, and now he’s at the mercy of one of the most deadliest and dangerous men in the fed.

Feeling better, Janus helps Williams to his feet, lifts him up like a baby, and impales him on his knee with a spine snapping Pendulum Back Breaker! Tucking Danny’s boots under his arms, Janus experiences little difficulty in rolling him over into a painful Boston Crab.

Stevens: The last time Janus was in control, he let Danny get away by whipping into the ropes, it seems this time, he’s learned from his mistake, and is gonna opt to hold on to him instead.

Riley: You really got to hand to Janus, while most big guys are clumsy oafs (cough) Frost (cough), Janus actually uses his brains as well as his huge oily muscles.

Danny lets out a tortured scream as Janus adds pressure to the hold, threatening to snap his back in half like a slim jim. Not willing to stay in this hell any longer, Williams begins summoning his power for an escape attempt. The crowd offers their support with a friendly chant...

“DAN-E!” BOOM! BOOM! “DAN-E!”

Huge veins bulge out of Danny’s neck as he pushes his chest off the mat with a strenuous cry, taking a great deal of pressure off his back. In turn, Janus struggles to pull further back on Danny’s legs to compensate for the change in altitude, but the Champion is already walking on his hands towards the ropes! Dripping sweat and purple faced, Williams finally makes it to the ropes, slinging his weary arms around them, drawing a nice pop from the crowd. Expecting this to happen, Janus nonchalantly releases Williams, and drags the sore Champion to his feet. Janus takes hold of Williams’ wrist, shoves him into the ropes, and whips him off!

Stevens: It would appear that Janus feels he’s got Danny worn down enough to risk an Irish whip maneuver.

Riley: Janus doesn’t feel, he knows. Danny blown himself up in the early going, and now he’s paying the price.

Janus catches Williams with a gut wrench on the rebound, and stunningly spins him around 360 degrees, before slamming him into the mat with tremendous force!

BOOOOOM!

Stevens: Beautiful Tilt-a-Whirl Slam by the challenger!

The crowd quiets down as Janus rolls Danny over, mounts his back, and cranks on a Camel Clutch! Janus pulls back on Danny’s chin, causing the Champ’s spine to crackle and pop!

Riley: Nice, Janus pops off a high impact move and than relentlessly goes right back to a submission hold, continuing to wear Williams down, not giving the Champ a break.

Soapdish asks Williams if he wants to call it a night, but gets a muffled “no!” in response. Desperate to escape, Williams manages to slip his arms off of Janus’ knees, using them to claw at Janus’ hands, trying his best to pry them off his face. Annoyed by this act of defiance, Janus releases the chin lock in favor of hooking Danny’s arms up in a full nelson. To the surprise of the crowd, Janus rises off Danny’s back, painfully pulling Danny to his feet with the full nelson!

Stevens: JANUS, SETTING DANNY UP FOR THE DRAGON SUPLEX!

Williams leans forward as far as possible trying to foil Janus’ plans, but he’s far too weak and Janus is way too strong. The fans rise out of their chairs, screaming and crying, hoping that Danny can find a way out of this deadly predicament! Suddenly, Janus violently snaps back, throwing Williams over his head....

CRUUUUUUUUUNCH!

Danny lands head first, bounces over on his stomach, and doesn’t make another move, remaining completely motionless!

Stevens: DRAGOOOOOOOOOOOOON SUPLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEX!!!

Riley: A NASTY RELEASE ONE TOO, LEAVING THE ICTV CHAMPION OUT COLD!

The fans watch on in a state of terror induced shock as Soapdish slides to the mat, attempting to establish some communication with the comatose Champion, but Danny is totally unresponsive. Janus takes his time in sitting up, knowing full and well that Danny isn’t going anywhere. Janus joyously crawls over to Danny, rolls his limp corpse over, and covers him with the lateral press!

Stevens: AND OUT OF NOWHERE, JANUS HAS TAKEN THE ICTV CHAMPIONSHIP WITH A SINGLE MOVE!

The fans nervously squirm in their seats as Soapdish starts the count!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

THREE!

NO! Too weak to even lift his leg, Williams just slides his boot underneath the bottom rope, forcing Soapdish to halt to count! The arena becomes filled with the rumbling of stomping feet and cheers! Janus snarls at Soapdish, snatching the leg in question, hooking it for another pin attempt!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

NO! Williams shoots his shoulder off the mat, sending the crowd into yet another frenzy! Janus sits up, growling with rage and frustration.

Stevens: And just as in his match against Beezel, Danny narrowly escapes defeat by the Dragon Suplex with some help from lady luck.

Riley: Luck doesn’t last forever, Stevens. One of these days, somebody is gonna hit that bad boy in the center of the ring, and will have a new ICTV Champion!

Looking to put the finishing touches on his victory, Janus grabs Danny by his arm, and drags the rubber legged Champion to his feet. Once he’s upright, Williams fires off a desperation elbow that finds it’s mark on Janus’ jawbone!

CRACK!

Surprised by the sudden stiff blow, Janus carelessly drops Williams, who flops on the mat, and rolls out of the ring in a flash!

Stevens: Danny bailing, trying to buy himself some time to recover from that hellaish Suplex. Remember fans, he wasn’t just hurt or knocked silly, he was knocked out cold for at least by my estimation nearly twenty seconds.

Not letting his prey get away so easily, Janus stomps his way out of the ring, finding the dazed Danny Williams laying on his back like a lazy stoner. Before helping his glassy eyed victim to his feet, Janus makes sure to stomp him a couple of times, decreasing the chances of another desperation elbow. To the shock of all who bear witness, Janus scoops all 243 pounds of Danny up with surprising ease, military pressing him over his head as if he was weightless! With inhuman power, Janus tosses Williams over the top rope and back into the ring!

KA-BOOM!

Williams splats on the mat like a raw egg, drawing some “ohs” from a few sympathetic souls in the building.

Riley: CAN YOU BELIEVE THE POWER OF JANUS! Danny weighs what? 243, 250 pounds, and Janus just tossed him back into the ring like he was a damn rag doll!

Stevens: I believe it, alright. I swear, some say that Frost is the strongest man in the fed since the Thugg, but after witnessing that I must question that opinion.

Janus hops on the apron, and swings his heavy leg over the top rope, entering the ring with the grace and style that only a 7'2" 300+ pound man can. Williams attempts to stagger to his feet, but Janus puts a stop to that nonsense with a crushing Double Axehandle!

SMACK!

Janus secures Danny in a front facelock, with a sinister grin, he forces the champion to get back on his feet. The fans jump out of their seats in horror as Janus slings Williams’ inside arm over his shoulder, and grabs a handful of tights!

Riley: OH MY GOD, HE’S GOING FOR A VERTICAL SUPLEX!

Stevens: No, you idiot, he’s going for the RAGE UNLEASHED!

Riley: Cool, even better.

With a grunt of effort, Janus hoists Danny upside, stalling so that he an sit out and complete the move....

Stevens: HE’S GOT HIM UP!

but Danny slips out of his clutches, landing behind him! In the blink of an eye, Williams slaps a Sleeper on a Janus, and drags him down to the mat with body scissors!

Stevens: DOUSHIME SLEEPER! This could be a serious momentum swinger, wearing the big man down, while giving Danny even more time to recover from Janus’ brutal offense.

The fans give a big ovation as Williams works the hold, twisting Janus’ head back and forth like he’s trying to rip it off! Janus keeps his arms raised in the air, letting Soapdish and maybe even Danny know that he’s still wide awake. Williams responds to this insult by squeezing his arm even tighter around Janus’ chin, successfully blocking the blood flow in this thick neck. It isn’t long now before Janus’ eye lids start to feel very heavy, and the strength is zapped out of his powerful arms.

Stevens: JANUS IS STARTING TO FADE!

Fighting to stay awake, Janus shifts his weight over, and starts rolling for the ropes.

Riley: I don’t know, I think he’s gonna make the ropes.

Despite Williams remaining mounted on his back, Janus makes the perilous journey to the ropes, clinging to them like a long lost friend. Williams releases Janus, eagerly climbs to his feet, and starts viciously laying some stiff punts to the exposed back of the drowsy challenger!

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The stiff kicks leave the imprint of Danny’s boot on Janus’ back. Williams pops his neck a few times, before grabbing Janus by the hair, and helping him to feet. Having a handful of hair, Danny leads Janus to the center of the ring where he precede to slam knee after knee into the face of the challenger! After connecting with an accountable amount of knees, Danny releases Janus’ hair, expecting him to collapse in agony, but things don’t go as planned. To the amazement of the crowd, Janus rises up to his full height, looks Danny in the eye, flashing a huge grin.

Stevens: Unbelievable, Danny Williams’ knee strikes have no effect on the Hell Machine.

Riley: Oh man, I would hate to be Danny Williams right now.

Unimpressed, Danny grabs Janus by the hair again, pulls his head down, and slams some more knees into the side of his head, these are even nastier, making a sick popping noise as they connect! Having bashed Janus’ skull until his knee is sore, Williams lets him go, only to get the same result. Janus once again, stands upright, towering over Danny, showing no signs of distress or pain whatsoever.

Riley: O.k., this is starting to get scary.

Stevens: NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES HE HITS HIM, DANNY SIMPLY CAN NOT HURT THE HELL MACHINE!

Williams looks a bit unnerved this time, but he manages to battle off his insecurities, grab Janus by the hair, and yank him down again. Bored with this game, Janus shrugs Williams’ hands off his hair, grabs’ Danny by the back of his skull, and plunges a knee into his gut! Williams grabs his abdomen, and sinks to the mat like deflated balloon.

Riley: And with just one knee, Janus has knocked all the oxygen out of Danny’s body.

Stevens: I think it would be wise if Williams avoided standing toe to toe with Janus for the rest of the match, it’s obvious he’s just no match for the power and pain tolerance of the Hell Machine.

Janus looks down at Williams with a look of total disgust, almost as if he’s ashamed to be in the same ring with such a loser. Grimacing with every breath, Williams slowly crawls to a corner, while Janus playfully stalks him. With the air of the ropes, Williams manages to climb to his feet, but Janus is already on top of him. Janus eyes the ailing Champion up, and than slams a series of rib bruising haymakers into his abdomen!

Smack! Smack! Smack!

The combination leaves Williams on his knees, clutching his stomach and flinching. Not letting Danny get his breath back, Janus pushes back up to his feet, and shoots him out of the corner with an Irishwhip! As Williams speeds towards the cross corner, Janus hurries after him...

BOOM! SMACK!

Janus decapitates Williams with a grisly Lariat at the same instant he crashes into the turnbuckles!

“Ooooooooooooooooh!”

Not giving the champ a break, Janus shoots him out of the corner yet again! Once more, Janus lumbers after him, his arm drawn back for a big Lariat.....

CRAAAACK!

but Danny leaps up on the turnbuckles he was meant to crash in to, and springboards back at Janus, catching him with a Jumping Elbow Smash as he charges in! The crowd comes back to life with a huge standing ovation!

Stevens: And Janus makes a rare mistake, going to the well one time too many.

Riley: This is just a minor set back, Danny’s done absorbed so much punishment, I doubt he can make a serious come back.

Danny rolls out on to the ring apron, and uses the ropes to painfully pull himself up. The excited fans rise out of their chairs as Williams sucks up the paralyzing pain in his ribs to climb up a corner, and make his way to the top rope.

Stevens: Danny Williams appears to be going back to what works, his high flying attacks are the only thing that seems to have hurt the giant.

Danny waits for Janus to blindly stagger to his feet, and than leaps off the top rope....

Stevens: DIVING ELBOOOOO-NO!

Janus catches Danny in mid air with his feared Arm Capture Bear Hug!

Stevens: THE HELL CRUSH!

Riley: JANUS SAW HIM COMING THIS TIME, JUST LIKE WITH DRAZON, HE SUCKERED HIM IN!

Janus squeezes his powerful arms around Danny’s waist, crushing his lungs, and pushing the air out of his body! It just takes the fans a couple of seconds before they start chanting....

“DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!”

Danny uses his head to escape, literally, slamming his forehead down into Janus’ face!

CRACK!

One doesn’t work so Danny tries several, slamming his head into Janus over and over until he has whip lash!

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Finally Janus succumbs to the head butts, dropping Williams, and staggering in place, not sure where he is!

Stevens: DANNY BROKE THE

Riley: NO WAY!

Williams suavely drifts back into the ropes, and than explodes forward, spinning at Janus like a discus thrower.....

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

flooring the huge man with a jaw shattering Elbow Smash!

Stevens: ROLLING ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!

Williams collapses to his knees, and than drops forward on top of Janus for the pin! The crowd goes wild, loudly screaming along with Soapdish’s count!

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

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

“THREE!”

NO! The crowd sighs as Janus escapes with a weak kick out! Williams gingerly climbs to his feet, keeping one arm tucked around his brittle ribs.

Riley: AND JANUS HAS JUST CLEANLY KICKED OF THE ROLLING ELBOW!

Stevens: Williams must be wondering now what else he can possibly throw at Janus, he’s obviously to big to Powerbomb or Suplex, and I don’t think a simple strike on it’s own is enough to keep him down.

Riley: It is indeed a mystery, a mystery that I don’t think will be solved tonight.

Williams grabs a handful of Janus’ hair, and strains his guts out just to get the Hell Machine up to one knee, when suddenly....

Smack! Smack!

Janus lays some stiff punches into Danny’s ribs, stunning him long enough so that the challenger can get up on his own! Once Janus is up, Williams puts off the pain in his sides in order to swing a huge Elbow Smash!

CRACK!

Janus briefly staggers, but comes right back with a big right hand...

CRACK!

that connects with Williams’ jaw, leaving the Champion reeling! This encourages Janus to ball his fist up, and take another big swing.....

Stevens: HERE’S THE KNUCKLE BOMB!

but in the blink of an eye, Williams catches his arm, and trips Janus up! The next thing the Hell Machine knows, his arm is being straightened into a limb breaking Fujiwara Armbar!

Stevens: THE FUJIWARA ARMBAR! This move is indeed a true giant killer, I’m sure we all can remember how it haunted Chris Raynor during his final days with the SWF!

Riley: But Janus is not only bigger and stronger than Chris Raynor, he’s three times as tough as him. There’s no way that Danny can break Janus’ arm, that would be like trying to bend a solid steel pipe!

Williams pulls with all his might on the meaty appendage, trying his best to hyper extend Janus’ powerful arm! To manly to scream, Janus groans in anguish, the only thing he can do as his tendons start to tear like a piece of cloth! Believing this to be the end, the fans jump out of their chairs, prematurely celebrating Janus’ tap out!

Stevens: I THINK HE’S GONNA TAP, DANNY WILLIAMS MAY HAVE JUST DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE!

Considering how long his arms are, Janus doesn’t have to scoot very far to get within reaching distance of the ropes! In a matter of seconds, Janus makes the ropes, drawing a huge collective sigh from the fans, who quietly find their seats. To depressed to hang on for the three seconds, Williams releases Janus’ arm, and returns to his feet.

Riley: I believe that arm bar may have been Danny’s last hope, what else can he possibly do to Janus that stands a chance of beating him?

Stevens: I have no idea, Riley. It seems that the only moves that Danny can nail Janus with, don’t have enough power to put that monster down.

Williams lays a couple of stiff kicks into Janus’ arm, before grabbling hold of it, using his bad arm to pull him to his feet. Williams pops Janus with some Elbow Smashes for good measure, and shoots him off the ropes with an Irishwhip, but Janus hangs on reversing it! Williams rebounds off the ropes, and into the waiting hands of the Hell Machine! Janus grabs Danny by the thighs, rotates around, and plants him into the mat!

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The ring violently vibrates for what seems like an eternity after the high impact move!

Stevens: HIGH ANGLE SPINE BUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Janus leans over Danny’s lifeless body, holding him down for the pin! The worried fans rise out of their chairs praying this isn’t the end as Soapdish starts the count!

Riley: AFTER ALL THAT BODY WORK, THERE’S NO WAY DANNY CAN SURVIVE THIS!

ONE!

TWO!

TWO1/2....

THREE!

Riley: NEW CHAMPION! NEW CHAMPION!

But Williams wiggles a shoulder up, halting the count!

Stevens: NO, HE GOT A SHOULDER UP!

The fans goes ape shit for the near fall, running in place, and screaming their heads off! Janus sits up, and brings his hand to his chin as if to say, “Huh, I wasn’t expecting that.” Janus climbs back to his feet with a sigh, taking a few moments to stretch his sore arm out before going back to work. After some careful contemplation, Janus figures out what he wants to do. Sharing his idea with the world, Janus extends his hand in the air, drawing a huge reaction from the hot crowd.

Stevens: HE’S GONNA PUT DANNY AWAY WITH A NODOWA OTOSHI!

Janus waits for the battered Champion to hobble to his feet, before slapping his hand around his throat! Janus squats low to the mat, and ducks his head under Danny’s inside arm, when..

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Williams starts shoving sharp reverse elbows into Janus’ temple, encouraging the crowd to get even louder! But Janus breaks their heart by shrugging off the elbows, and lifting Danny up anyway!

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Janus drops to one knee, slamming Williams into the mat at a brutal high angle! His legs folded over his head, Williams comes dangerously close to landing straight on his head!

Stevens: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODOWA OTOSHI!!!

Instead of going for the cover or even choking Williams, Janus recoils in pain, holding his arm.

Stevens: He must have aggravated that arm injury during the lift!

Despite his arm feeling like it’s going fall off, Janus fights off the pain, crawls over to Williams, and lays face up on top of him so that he can hook his legs with his good arm!

Riley: NEVER A LESS, JANUS WILL NOT BE DENIED HIS VICTORY!

Stevens: JUST AS IT WAS DANNY WHO FOUGHT OFF THE ARM INJURY IN ROUTE TO CAPTURING THE GOLD FROM DRAZON, JANUS IS ENDURING THE SAME HARD SHIP ON HIS WAY TO VICTORY!

Sitting on the edge of their seats, the fans nervously count along with Soapdish!

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

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

“THREE!”

NO! Williams somehow finds the strength to lift his shoulder off the mat Once more, the crowd celebrates the near fall by dancing in the aisles and making some big noise!

Stevens: THE CHAMPION, SHOWING WHY HE’S JUST THAT! KICKING OUT OF EVERYTHING THAT JANUS IS THROWING AT HIM!

Janus rolls over on his back, looking frustrated and confused, unable to comprehend why he can’t keep Danny down. In no time, a rabid chant breaks out amongst the hopefuls in attendance....

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

Ready to end this thing once and for all, Janus sits up, and stomps over to Danny. Janus peels Williams off the mat, and positions him in the vertical suplex set up!

Stevens: AND ONCE AGAIN JANUS IS LOOKING FOR THE RAGE UNLEASHED!

Riley: I guess he figures the hell with the body, kill the head, and the body will die as a direct result!

Janus dips his knees for the lift, but before he can get him up, Danny slides out of his grasp, and grabs his arm for the Armbar Takedown! The fans are literally going crazy as Williams tugs with all his might to get the big man down, but Janus keeps his boots planted in the mat, refusing to go down to the certain death.

Stevens: DANNY, TRYING TO PULL JANUS DOWN INTO THE FUJIWARA ARMBAR, AND I DOUBT THAT THE HELL MACHINE CAN SURVIVE ANOTHER!

With a ferocious battle cry, Janus suddenly sends Danny flipping into the air with a deep arm drag! Williams hits the mat hard, while Janus drops back in a corner, where he shakes his arm out and waits. Janus squats low to the mat, placing one foot out in front of him like a sprinter that’s about to take off!

Stevens: JANUS, PERHAPS LOOKING FOR THE GORE!

Riley: Williams ribs is dust, this could mess his insides up real good!

The worried fans are on their feet, their hearts in their mouth as Janus steam rolls forward at Williams as he causelessly stumbles to his feet, his head tucked into his chin for what is sure to be a hellaish spear....

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

only to run head first into a brain scrambling Elbow Smash at top speed!

Riley: OH MY GOD, JANUS HAS JUST KILLED HIMSELF!

Stevens: DANNY SAW HIM COMING, AND INSTINCTIVELY FIRED OFF AN ELBOW WITH EXPERT TIMING!

Janus stops dead in his tracks, and crumbles to the mat in a lifeless heap! Williams also goes down, holding his arm, and still looking completely out of it! The crowd is going ape shit, and the cries of a large lizard in the distance shake the arena to it’s foundation! Wincing in agony, Williams crawls over to Janus’ body, and slings an arm over the challenger’s carcass!

Stevens: JANUS ISN’T MOVING, I THINK HE’S OUT COLD!

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

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

“THREE!”

DING! DING! DING!

The crowd raises the roof, and than blows it off as the “Jester Dance” dances it’s way out of the loud speakers!

Funyon: The winner of the match by pinfall at 16 minutes and 22 seconds......AND STILL SWF ICTV CHAMPION.......DANNY WILLIAMS!!!

Williams rolls over on his back, complaining to Soapdish about his ribs, while Janus lays on his back, his eyes closed and his face relaxed as if in a deep sleep.

Stevens: AND DANNY WILLIAMS RETAINS THE TITLE WITH A FLASH KNOCK OUT!

Riley: More like a fluke knockout! Janus had this thing one won, and than Danny gets in one lucky shot, that wouldn’t even have had knock out power if Janus did run into it full speed ahead!

Stevens: Fans, please don’t go anywhere, because up next we still got the Main Event!

June 7, 2003

We come back to a raucous crowd as we return to the first SJL/SWF venture to Monster Island in almost a year! A distant roar is heard, and instantly a “GOJIRA!” chant starts up while we scan do a slow pan across the arena (Passing a few signs like “IT’S A PENINSULA” and “I’M GOING TO CANDY APPLE ISLAND”) down to the announcer’s tables at the ringside.

“And welcome back to SWF STORM,” shills Grand Slam in his always amiable way, “We are only seconds away from our main events, a 6 man tag event against 6 of the biggest stars in the Smarks Wrestling Federation today!”

“More like three big, dumb hosses and three big stars,” quips Riley snidely, “Strangler, Frost, and LDP shouldn’t even stand in the same ring with three ring generals like the Magnificent 7 is putting up there. If only we could leave those useless fools here when were done. They’d find great company among their kind here.”

“Of course, I’m guessing you are still slightly bitter for Tom giving up one of his few recent losses to Strangler-“

“COUNTOUT! COUNTOUT! NO PIN! NOOOOOOOO PIN!”

“… Okay then. But there’s certainly a sizeable size difference here,” chuckles Mark at his own little Nebraskan sense of humor, “With the teams weighing in at 875 pounds to 645 pounds, it’s like having a whole other person on your team. Even the weight difference outweighs two of the three wrestlers on the Mag 7 side.”

“Like that matters, though. What matters in 6-Man Tags is chemistry and that’s what the Mag 7 has over team… Gigantor or whatever you want to call those moronic dinosaurs.”

“Actually, considering the venue, Gigantor is a pretty appropriate name,” notes Grand Slam, holding his arms up to recognize the whole arena, and through the now-open retractable roof the massive figure of Rodan can be flying past.

“Oh Christ, figures you’d take a liking to something that dumb.”

“Whatever, Bobbie. But at any rate, this match is going to rip this stadium apart!”

“And if it doesn’t, I’m sure whatever the hell that thing is won’t mind doing the honors,” says Bobbie, pointing to the Martian figure of Megalon, stomping around not too far away from the stadium while the houselights turn blue.

*DING DING DING*

“The following 6-MAN TAG MATCH is the MAIN EVENT and is scheduled for ONE FALL!”

“HEAR WE ARE! BORN TO BE KINGS! We’re the Princes of the Universe…”

The SmarkTron flashes the white words “MAGNIFICENT 7”, “UNPARALLELED GREATNESS”, and “TECHNICAL GENIUS” while the crowd begins to boo before anything even sets foot on stage. Suddenly the arena turned blood red, “Princes of the Universe” by Queen begins to take a darker tone while Funyon speaks up.

“Now entering the ring, coming in at a combined weight of 645 pounds… they are the greatest triple threat of all time and we aren’t talking about King Ghidrah, they are the REAL monsters on this island and they are about to stomp over the next three losers like Godzilla on Tokyo… They are Tom Flesher, William Hearford, and Ejiro Fasaki, THE MAGNIIIIIIFICENNNNNNT SEEEEEEVEEEEEEN!!”

“I AM IMMORTAL! I HAVE INSIDE ME BLOOD OF KINGS! I HAVE NO RIVAL! NO MAN CAN BE MY EQUAL!”

With those words, the leader of the Magnificent 7 himself Tom Flesher walks out, World Title around his waist. Flanking him are the Tag Team champions in their normal football Jerseys, their tag team gold laid across their shoulders. The crowd gives them what for, spouting everything they possibly can at the three heels as they saunter down to the ring. Of course, that would have to mean they give a rat’s ass about what others think. The three enter the ring and take a ringpost, raising their individual titles up and taking in the boos before getting down and going to their unoccupied corner.

“Look at that gold! Enough to make Mr. T say “Damn, I pity da foo’ who mess with those guys.”

“Admittedly the Magnificent 7 have held a monopoly over most of the titles in the SWF ever since Genesis, but they’ve never gone against a team like the one they are facing tonight.”

As the heels begin to review the plan for the night in the as lights go dim, and a low guitar riff begins, getting an EXPLOSIVE~! reaction from the crowd and any monsters within a mile show their approval! The white words “Strangler” appear on the screen as “Godzilla” by Blue Oyster Cult continues on as a massive white pyro goes off center stage!

“JESUS H. CHRIST!” yells Riley, covering his ears at what could be one of the loudest pops he’s heard in a long time, “HOW THE HELL DID STRANGLER GET THIS POPULAR?!”

“I’M NOT REALLY SURE IF IT’S HIS POPULARITY OR JUST HIS SONG SELECTION,” yells back Grand Slam, covering his ears as well, “BUT EITHER WAY EVRYONE ON MONSTER ISLAND IS GOING BERZERK!”

The white pyro dies down, and from the ‘flames’ appears the Boston Strangler, his hand in the air with fingers wiggling and waiting for a neck to grasp. But instead of walking down, he stays at the top of the ramp.

“God damn chicken!” comments Bobbie as the crowd quiets down enough so that he no longer needs to shout, “What’s he think gonna happen?”

“A triple team maybe?”

“Oh, come on! It’s 3-1! You can’t beat those odds!”

“Which is exactly why he’s staying at the top of the ramp.” finishes Stevens as “Godzilla” begins to die down.

“OH MY GOD! INCREDIBLE SUPERSTAR!”

White pyros go off across the stage as smoke begins to flood in around Strangler, and the crowd gives warm welcome and a nice pop for his first partner, Longdogger Pete, who steps out of the smoke and stops right next to him as his music begins to die down quickly as well, and the arena begins to dim down again as a lone blue spotlight begins to shine down on 2/3rds of the face team.

Silver pyros explode in the rafters, and on the stage what appears to be snow begins to fall. “Snowblind” by Black Sabbath begins to play as the Icelandic Iceman steps out from behind the curtain to complete “Team Gigantor” to a huge crowd pop. The massive team begins to stride down the ramp as Funyon speaks up again.

“Now entering the ring at a combined weight of EIGHT HUNDRED and SEVENTY FIVE POUNDS… Super-sized for your enjoyment, the team of THE BOSTON STRANGLER, LONGDOGGER PETE, and FROOOOOOOOOOOOOST!”

“It’s amazing how big this team is. I mean, Pete is the smallest one at 277 pounds. Two of the Magnificent 7’s team members are below 220 and the Judge only tops out at 242. They are really going to have to play a perfect game to beat these three behemoths.”

“That’s the only way they know how to play the game, Stevens. I’d hate to be those morons right now… then again I’d hate to be them at any other time.” remarks Bobbie as the three get on the apron and start to enter-

-But two find their way back to the mats below as Hearford knocks LDP off the ropes with a shoulder charge while Tom and Ejiro nail Frost in the jaw with a double dropkick! The crowd boos as the three heels get back up to their feet and get ready to attack a very lonely TBS, but suddenly the crowd does a 180 as the Superstation goes into Super-face mode, nailing Hearford, Flesher, and Fasaki with punches as they come towards him! The reaction only gets louder with each successive punch as Strangler holds off the heels on all sides of him like Godzilla against the Japanese army, but all good things come to an end, and this one comes in the form of Tom recovering a little too quick for TBS to catch up to him. The big man gets chop blocked from behind, putting him to the ground, and the heels begin to do a triple stomp down while Matty Kivell tries to disperse the three unsuccessfully, and finally he just rings the bell to start the match up.

*DING DING DING*

The bell rings just as the faces get back to their feet and into the ring, but are stopped from getting their immediate revenge by Matty Kivell, who steps between them and the Magnificent 7 beat down and pushes them back to the apron. Meanwhile, team Rudo gets in a few more good shots before the triple teaming is forced to end, leaving Hearford to pick up a dazed and confused Strangler off the mat. Hearford immediately fires off a high knife-edged chop at Strangler’s chest, knocking him back a step.

“WHOO!”

CHOP!

“WHOO!”

CHOP!

“WHOO!”

CHOP!

“WHOO!”

CHOP!

“WHOO!”

“GRAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!!”

“Damn monsters, screwing up proper wrestling traditions,” says Riley as Judge pushes the still reeling Strangler back into the ropes with his chops. He grabs the big man’s arm and goes for a whip, but TBS is able to snap out of his funk, reversing the whip and send Justice hurtling at the ropes. Taking the events in stride, he raises his arm up for a burning lariat… but instead finds himself at the wrong end of the iron grip of the Superstation! TBS reaches out with his longer arms and grabs Hearford right around the neck, and using his momentum against him he spins around and choke tosses the Judge nearly halfway across the ring!

Hearford rolls back up to his feet, but he’s quickly caught by Strangler with a big clothesline that knocks the Judge right back to the mat. Shaking his head a little after getting his brain rattled by three guys only moments before, TBS walks over to Frost to make the tag for the big man! Towering what must seem like stories over Justice, the Velvet Hammer does just that as he begins to assault him with punches. His hands almost as potent a weapon as Gigan’s scythe-like arms, Frost gives a hard right hook that knock the old man right to the ground. The crowd watches and cheers as Frost bends over and makes the first pin of the night!

ONE!

TWNO! The Judge puts a shoulder up, but the crowd doesn’t deflate much as Frost quickly pulls him up off the ground and scoops him up with barely any effort. He carries him on his shoulder and walks him over towards the face corner. There, he unceremoniously tosses Hearford right into the turnbuckle, his face getting smashed in the process. The Judge clutches his face in pain, and Frost casually tags in the Longdogger to a pop from the crowd and a sort of glug-glug-blag from the Smog Monster.

“And with that tag it doesn’t look too good for the Magnificent 7,” notes Grand Slam as the Longdoggah pulls up Hearford and begins hammering him with THE OVERHAND RIGHTS OF DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM~!™.

“No… see, this is all part of their plan.”

“What? You mean Hearford being isolated and getting pounded is a strategy of the Magnificent 7?”

“One can not try to comprehend the genius that is Tom Flesher. One can only stand back and watch as he works his magic.”

“… How long did it take you to think THAT excuse up?”

“I wrote it down last night; best to prepare these things beforehand.”

With the Judge barely staying on his feet from the barrage of monstrous strikes, LDP crouches at the knees and leaps up and towards Hearford in a Lou Thesz Press! In one blinding moment, the Judge finds himself going from standing up to being pinned to the mat by 277 pounds of force. The ref dives for the count as Hearford returns to his senses.

ONE!

TWO!

THNO! Hearford gets a shoulder up again, but LDP remains undaunted as he pulls him up like a rag doll. The Miami Menace quickly whips him at the ropes, and as Pete takes up a familiar stance the fans begin to cheer as if every copy of the 1990’s remake of “Godzilla” were being burning in a massive inferno right in front of them!

“And this is could already be over! Pete’s preparing for the Musclehead Slam!”

Indeed, as Justice reaches him, he pulls the man up high into the air, presenting him before the entire crowd. But Hearford, still thinking fast, reaches down to Pete’s face and rakes his hands across it! King Gidrah leads a few of the heel fans in a roar as Hearford drops to his feet behind the momentarily stunned Pete and locks in a waistlock. He tries to go for a German Suplex, but Pete’s weight is… just… too much for him after taking the beating he has. He gets him a few inches off the ground, but is forced to place him back to the feet. Of course, Pete doesn’t just stand there, and he quickly spins, the force of which throws Hearford off and allows the Longdogger to put Justice in a waistlock of his own! The crowd cheers as the Judge can’t do anything but brace for impact while Pete tosses him overhead for a German Suplex! Megalon shoots out one of those coconut-looking grenades out of his mouth to show his displeasure as the Longdoggah rolls over and prepares to hit another one… but Fasaki jumps over the ropes, his steel chain wrapped around his fist!

“And here comes Ejiro to save the day!” says a happy Riley, but his tone turns to one of disappointment as Kivell immediately stops him from going any further and begins pushing him back towards the apron, “Hmph. Figures he’d stop them from having any fun.”

“Well, it looks like Fasaki’s little tactic didn’t-Wait, look out!” yells Grand Slam as Tom Flesher slides in and rushes at LDP from behind. The crowd begins to yell, and as Mothra screams alongside Rodan to voice their displeasure, but nothing can warn Longdogger Pete before the attack, and he crumbles to the mat from the impact of having a 213-pound missile collide with the side of his knees. Scurrying out of the ring a moment later as the referee turns his attention back from Ejiro Fasaki, Tom Flesher gives himself a little golf clap before picking up the tag rope and innocently looking back to the ring. Staggering up to his feet from all the punishment that he has taken thus far from Team Gigantor, William Hearford immediately moves over to his corner and makes the tag to his fresher tag team partner.

“And the Magnificent Seven make the smart exchange as they have finally found a weak point on one of these monsters,” calls out Mark Stevens. “Not only does Pete have a history of serious knee problems, but working his knees will also keep the big man off his vertical base and unable to utilize the majority of his offense.”

Stepping into the ring, Ejiro dives at the knee like a dog after a fresh piece of meat. He lifts just the leg off the mat as Pete tries to reach up from his position on his back, and then immediately snaps a series of brutal kicks into the back of Pete’s leg with an almost surgical precision.

WHAP!

With the pain surging through his appendage, LDP leans back against the mat for just a moment before Fasaki drops down across the leg with all of weight with a harsh driving elbow. Pulling up against the knee as Pete cries out in anguish, Fasaki attempts to yank the knee out of socket as his teammates applaud the sight. But they don’t have very long to cheer as Ejiro doesn’t realize he’s wandered into Pete’s iron grip! Snagging Ejiro by the hair, Pete forces his head down into a position where he can slam away with some hard-hitting forearms across the chest that immediately break Fasaki’s grip over the leg. Rolling away from his opponent, Ejiro utilizes his tag team experience to quickly make the tag to the World Champion as LDP struggles to get himself to the other side of the ring. Tom quickly and eagerly jumps in to snag LDP by the ankle as the SWF’s favorite beach bum lays mere inches away from his corner; Tom shrugs and drags Pete back to the center of the ring.

“Yes!” yells Riley. “Did you see that, Stevens? No wonder Tom has the record for the longest tag team title reign in SWF history! And whom did he carry through that reign? None other than that chubby load across the ring, Frost!”

“… chubby load?”

Following Fasaki’s lead on one hand, Flesher drops down across the side of the knee with a hard measured elbow, but rather than stay where Pete could defend himself Tom quickly moves back to his vertical base to drive in another hard elbow across the knee. Stepping away from his downed adversary, Tom quickly ventures into enemy territory for just a second.

Smack!

“Ha! He just slapped the bitch out of the Boston Strangler’s mouth!” snickers Riley.

“And you’re a fool if you think Strangler’s going to take it!”

Diving into the ring to avenge the insult, TBS desperately tries to get a hold of his opponent for 13th Hour as Tom casually places the referee between himself and his challenger. As Flesher provides the superior distraction, Justice and Rule come into the ring to do a little perfectly legal damage. Pulling the limping Longdogger off the canvas for just a second, Hearford and Fasaki lift him what looks to be a double atomic drop but is instead a set up move for something else. With Pete high in the air, Justice and Rule prop him up sitting on the top rope for just a moment before pulling him down by his hair to completely tie Pete up in the tree of woe. Stepping right out of the ring, the only evidence of their involvement is the new position that the Miami Menace finds himself in. Hanging upside down with his knee wedged in between the ropes, LDP grits his teeth, as he knows that Flesher will not allow him to get out of this one without paying some sort of toll. Smiling broadly, Flesher runs in with a huge head of steam behind him and …

WHACK!

“Yakuza kick right the knee!” screams Stevens as the force of the blow knocks Pete’s leg free of the ropes, and he falls right back toward the center of the ring. “I don’t know that I have ever seen that before in all my years of watching this great sport.”

“Well stick around,” laughs Riley, “Tom Flesher is the innovator of all things that are great. I’m sure he has some other nasty tricks that will make those three big goofs cry their way to Jim Ross in no time.”

“Oh, THAT chubby load.”

With LDP laid out before him, Flesher takes a moment to bask in the scattered cheers from the crowd as King Ghidrah and Gigan party down to the sight. Reaching out to tag the old man of wrestling back into the action, Flesher takes a moment to give William a little bit of strategic information. Nodding to his commander, Hearford pulls Pete’s legs straight and flat against the mat as Flesher hits the ropes. Flesher continues to use Kevin Sullivan’s maneuvers in a way that would actually be effective, leaping high into the air before coming straight down across the knees with a huge double stomp! Screaming out at the sudden impact against his patella, the Longdogger tries to use his arms to drag himself away from the punishment only to have the Judge immediately latch onto the leg and wrap it up in a super tight figure four leglock!

WHOOOOO!

Sitting up reflexively from the pain of his knee being bent across his other leg, Longdogger Pete’s face is a mask of agony as the Judge merely smiles and leans back with the hold carefully locked in about as perfectly as it can be, keeping his head back and away from a possible punching escape. Realizing that he will not be able to fight his way out of the hold with his fists, LDP starts trying to drag his body closer to the safety of the ropes. Scraping and tearing at the canvas to pull himself to the nearest side of the ring, Pete hauls both himself and the much lighter Judge Hearford towards an eventual rope break. Finally, Pete gets one of his huge hands around the bottom rope and the referee steps in to force a decisive break from the Judge. Raising his hands, the Judge allows the referee to untangle their legs before standing up and dragging Longdogger Pete all the way back to the Magnificent Seven’s corner of the ring. Reaching out to the World Champion, Hearford once again brings Tom Flesher into the ring.

“This is just so freaking pretty,” says Riley as he watches Hearford set up their double team attack. “Tom Flesher is just so fluid in that ring. Man what I would give for some of that fluid...”

“No! You’re not finishing that sentence!” Stevens says frantically. “We need to keep our TV-PG rating if we want to attract advertisers!”

While Stevens seriously considers cutting out his Riley’s tongue to spare himself as well as Flesher, the Judge and the Superior One continue to combine their effort in an extremely well orchestrated manner. Picking LDP up by the knee, William Hearford jams down hard with an excruciating shin breaker that leaves a broken Longdogger almost defenseless. Flesher rolls straight over him with a running palm strike that smashes LDP flatly in the middle of the chest!

WHAM!

Not even bothering to try to make a cover on the comatose Longdogger, the cocky Flesher goes right for the knee once more and wraps it up nice and tight with the Nagata lock known as CROSS LIGHTNING dead center of the middle of the ring! Cranking away as Pete’s spirit ebbs from his body, the Superior One looks up from his seated position on the mat to share a little golf clap that not even the Smog Monster can agree with. Regardless, Tom continues to grind away with referee Ced Ordonez’s trademark hold as Longdogger Pete fades underneath the pressure that is just enough to drain his strength away.

“You know, Stevens, Tom Flesher isn’t really going for the submission here. He’s really just trying to render Pete unconscious with this great move. He probably thinks it will be more embarrassing that way.”

Stevens replies, “Come off it Riley, you know as well as I do that Pete’s not a quitter. He’d rather die than tell Tom Flesher that he’s a better man.”

“Well, call the funeral home and ask for a couple of body bags, because Pete’s ready to enter the next dimension!”

Fading fast under the pain of the Cross Lightning, Pete still manages to keep from slumping back into a pinning position. The Doggah, however, is weak enough that the referee moves in and checks his arm to see if Pete will be able to continue in this contest.

“ONE!” calls the referee as the hand folds right back down to mat after being released.

“TWO!” he roars over the sounds of an anxious Gamera, as Pete shows no sign of life as his hand slaps right back down to the mat.

“THREEEEHEYYYYYYYYY!”

BOOM!

“Frost makes the save with a huge elbow drop!” calls out Stevens as three hundred pounder drops all his weight across Tom’s exposed head and chest.

Shaken from the impact as the referee forces Frost right back out of the ring, Pete begins to move under his own power once more and attempts to pull himself over to where he could possibly make a tag to either members of Team Gigantor, but he still has a bit of a weight attached to him beyond his own. The Superior One, even in his stunned state, nonetheless manages to latch onto LDP like a remora and does not allow Pete a clear path to freedom. Rowing the boat while holding onto Pete by the injured ankle, Flesher is able to gain purchase enough to make it back to his corner and make a crucial tag to Ejiro Fasaki.

“Fasaki needs to clean up this mess as quickly,” states Stevens. “The Magnificent Seven cannot allow Pete all these opportunities to make the tag. As much damage as they’ve done to LDP by now, and as much time as they’ve spent on it, having to start all over again with the Strangler or Frost would be a major setback.”

Quickly back on the knee as soon as Flesher rolls to the outside of the ring, Ejiro stomps away at the swollen joint with a series of quick blows. Pulling Pete back towards the center of the ring, Ejiro places himself directly between the Miami Menace and his corner as he continues to kick away at the knee. Finally, Fasaki picks the leg off the mat once more and swings a finger in the air to signal to the capacity crowd that yet another figure four leglock is only a moment away. Sadly for the Magnificent Seven, the monsters in the crowd are not the only sentient beings that received the message; as soon as Ejiro turns into the spinning toehold that sets up the figure four, Pete props a foot against Fasaki’s ass and kicks him straight off and right into the corner where Frost is ready and waiting.

BOOM!

“Hands of Stone!” yells out Riley as Ejiro sways from the impact of the hard right across his brow.

Stammering and staggering, Ejiro still manages to walk about half way back to his corner before he suddenly flops down on his face in the center of the ring! With the Judge and the Superior One screaming out for Fasaki to get up, Pete is slowly but surely inching his way across the ring and to a waiting hand ...

Ejiro finally manages to get back up to his feet and turns toward Pete in order to stop the tag!

Unfortunately, he finds he’s a little bit slow on the draw, and finds it out the hard way as a ham sized fist collides with his face!

“And Frost is about to make it cold in here!” yells out Stevens as another hard right hand sends Fasaki tumbling down to the canvas.

BOOM!

Down goes a charging Judge!

BOOOM!

Down goes Flesher!

BOOOOOOM!

And Fasaki is sent flying into the canvas as another slab of meat crushes his face. With both Judge and Flesher rolling out of the ring to clear their heads, Fasaki is the one that ends up caught by an angry polar bear. Catching Fasaki with ease in his wobbly state, Frost hauls Ejiro right up on his shoulders for just a moment before dropping his face straight onto the top turnbuckle. Wasted from the blow, Fasaki holds onto his vertical base as the Iceman from Iceland hits the opposite side of the ropes.

WHAMMMMMM!

“HELLLLLL FREEZES OVAHHHHHHHHHH!”

The impact of the deadly clothesline smashes Ejiro straight backward onto his shoulders as Frost’s mighty arm doesn’t so much collide with Fasaki’s chest as blast it into shards of bone! Dropping down, Frost hooks the leg for an academic three count...

ONE!

TWO!

THRENNNOOOOOOOOOO!

Grabbing Frost by the ankles from the floor, William Hearford manages to drag the three hundred-pound-man off his partner to break up the count. That’s the good news for Hearford. The bad news is that he is now eye-to-eye with the mighty Velvet Hammer, who simply blasts Hearford across the face with a hard right hand before sliding back inside the ring to continue his assault on Ejiro Fasaki. Before he can batter Ejiro any further, though, Frost leans out to make a tag to the ready and willing Boston Strangler. Together they send Fasaki flying into the ropes with a double Irish whip before they teach everyone not to use the word flying too loosely.

WOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

“Jesus JONES! TBS and Frost just sent Ejiro into the blinking stratosphere with a double back body drop!” says Stevens as Godzilla gets an eye level view of Fasaki as he goes flying past. Strangler drops onto Ejiro, but the referee refuses to count the pin!

“What, is Strangler too stupid to realize he’s not the legal man?” jeers Riley. “I thought they taught these things in rehab.”

Before Stevens can get a reply in, Tom Flesher comes diving off the top rope and nails Strangler in the back with a stiff double stomp! Strangler arches up and rolls off Ejiro, holding his back. Frost turns to see what happened and sees Flesher in the ring illegally. He stares at the Champion, a menacing look in his eyes, and Flesher backs up. He holds his hands up, professing innocence, but Frost absolutely crushes him with the deadly Hell Freezes Over lariat!

CRUNCH~!

Flesher falls back onto his neck, rolling all the way through and coming to rest on his stomach as Stevens screams “HELL FREEZES OVAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” for the second time in the match! Frost stands over Flesher, an icy smile on his face as he admires his handiwork… but it doesn’t last long, as Ejiro Fasaki sneaks up behind him and rolls him up!

ONE!!!!

TWO!!!!!!!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENO!!!!!!!!

Frost rolls backwards, breaking the pin, and gets to his feet, grabbing Ejiro by the head and simply clobbering him with a hard right hand! Finally, the referee manages to restore order, sending the Strangler and a staggering Tom Flesher back to their corners. Flesher nearly loses his footing again, still feeling the effects of the monstrous lariat.

“So Frost and Ejiro are the legal men,” says Stevens. “And, from the looks of things, Frost is about to take Ejiro’s head home with him!”

True to Stevens’ word, Frost starts moving toward his own corner, holding only Ejiro’s head. Ejiro follows behind, since he doesn’t have much choice. Frost guides his head toward the turnbuckle and slams it as hard as he possibly can, reaching up to tag the Boston Strangler back in while he’s in the corner. Longdogger Pete cheers on his teammates as the Strangler steps into the ring, rocking Ejiro with a quick right hand before getting into position. He slaps a front facelock on the smallest member of the Magnificent Seven and lifts him up, holding him upside down for a few seconds before slamming him to the mat with a vertical suplex! Strangler runs to the ropes, ready to drop an elbow onto Ejiro for the cover, but as he bounces off the ropes by the Magnificent Seven corner, William Hearford clocks him in the back of the head with a forearm smash! The fans begin to boo as the Judge holds Strangler’s arms behind his back, and Ejiro gets back to his feet. He rotates 180 degrees, sending a Screaming Elbow at Strangler…

Who ducks it! Ejiro’s elbow slams into William Hearford, who falls off the apron and to the concrete! Strangler comes up with an uppercut that sends Ejiro reeling into the opposite ropes! He tries to follow it up with a right cross, but Fasaki ducks that and slides past his behemoth foe and takes him to the mat with a Fujiwara armbar! The fans boo as Tom Flesher enters the ring, jumping in because he can’t resist nailing the small of Strangler’s back! Enraged, Frost enters the ring, going for another huge lariat as Ejiro releases the armbar. Flesher ducks the huge lariat, and as Frost stumbles to regain his footing, Ejiro positions himself to strike! Frost turns around, and Ejiro quickly spins like a top to nail him with a Screaming Elbow, this time connecting with Frost’s jaw!

CRACK!!!!!!

Frost staggers a few steps backwards, where William Hearford grabs his ankle and pulls him out of the ring!

“Hearford’s such a team player,” says Riley. “He’s always there clearing the way for Flesher and Fasaki to lock up the win!”

“Or maybe he’s just the type of guy who’ll bend the rules in order to get a cheap win,” says Stevens with a sigh.

“Either way.”

The Judge holds the surprised Velvet Hammer by the wrist and whips him into the nearest steel cornerpost, knocking the sense out of the Iceman and sending him to the concrete. Hearford slides into the ring just as Tom Flesher walks to the corner and bitchslaps Longdogger Pete! The Miami Menace, fresh once again after the early-match beating, enters the ring and throws a bionic elbow at Flesher, but the Superior One ducks it! Flesher comes up with a shotei, aiming for the beach bum’s face, but Pete deflects it and hits Tom across the bridge of the nose with a stiff left hand! Flesher staggers backwards as the Judge bends Strangler over and locks on a standing headscissors!

“Justice and Rule are going to Overrule Strangler!” says Riley. “And there’s not a thing you can do to stop it! Strangler and Ejiro are legal!”

“I’d say Strangler would disagree, Bobby.”

True to his word, the Boston Strangler stands up, lifting William Hearford up in a back body drop and sending him crashing down onto the waiting Ejiro Fasaki! The fans cheer as the Massacussetts Mauler grabs Ejiro and lifts him up, ready to finish him off!

Meanwhile, Tom Flesher catches Longdogger Pete with a dropkick to the knee that takes the Florida native down to the mat. He lifts Pete’s legs up, crossing them to go for the Superior Stretch! Strangler looks over and, before he even knows what he’s doing, charges at Flesher and hammers him with a forearm!

“Strangler’s letting his emotions get the best of him!” cackles Riley. “There’s no way he can beat Flesher!”

“He’s protecting his teammate,” retorts Stevens, “and I think he’s more than proved that he can hang with the World Champion!”

“Even if he could, Flesher’s not legal!”

It doesn’t matter to the Strangler, though, as he lifts Flesher into the air and presses him high above his head! Flesher’s eyes open wide as he realizes just what’s about to happen, and the Boston Strangler isn’t one to disappoint! He drops Flesher down and catches him, dropping him headfirst to the mat with a Death Valley Driver!

“BOSTON MASSACRE!!!!!!!!!!!” screams Stevens! “THE BOSTON STRANGLER JUST HIT THE BOSTON MASSACRE ON THE WORLD CHAMPION! THIS MATCH IS OVER!!!!!!”

As Strangler rolls the unconscious pile of Flesher over onto his back, though, Ejiro Fasaki grabs him and whips him to the ropes! Before Strangler knows what hit him, Ejiro lifts him high into the air and sends him to the canvas with a flapjack! William Hearford catches him on the way down, slamming his head to the mat with a vicious, sickeningly elevated DDT!

“GAVEL BANG!” says Riley! “Haha, Strangler was so busy with Flesher that he totally forgot about the World Tag Team Champions, and he’s eating mat because of it!”

“That Gavel Bang seems a little crisper than the one they hit on Strangler last week.”

Riley coughs. “Yes. It seemed much more… Gavel Bang-y.”

With that, Ejiro crawls onto the much, much larger Strangler, and Mothra cheers as the official counts

ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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

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

DING DING DING!!!!!!

Ejiro jumps up, celebrating as Hearford reaches over the top rope to get the Tag Team and World Title belts. He holds all three belts in the air as Funyon announces, “Your winners, Tom Flesher and Justice and RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULE!!!!!!!!!”

Ejiro and Judge both help Flesher up, raising the dazed World Champion’s arms! He grabs his World Title belt and slings it over his shoulder as he stumbles down the ring steps, still feeling the effects of the Boston Massacre.

Strangler, meanwhile, sits up. As he shakes off the blow, he stares at the Magnificent Seven making their way back to the locker room.

“Fans, this has been a doozy of a card,” says Mark Stevens, “and it looks like while he may be winning the battles, the Boston Strangler is rapidly losing the war! Will he avenge the loss? Will he take Tom Flesher’s World Title? It remains to be seen! Join us next time for SWF Lockdown!”

The camera focuses on Strangler, looking up angrily as the copyright symbol appears, and we fade.

SWF Storm, June 6, 2003

“Smartmarks Wrestling Federation: Raising workrate by typing faster.”

June 7, 2003

Not much to summarize--no swerves, nothing too landmark. I promise to never book MVS/Craven again, Danny writes another masterpiece, and the tag title match ends up separated by one point on a 60-point scale, after several reviews. My biggest disappointment for the night is a lack of progress towards the PPV--I would have loved to see more development of PPV eventualities in the main event and in the MVS/Craven/Atlas bit. More promos, too.

A very good show match-wise, though. Just about everyone wrote, and the results were splendid. Bring Lockdown up to par storywise, and you guys'll all be rockin' and rollin' into the PPV.

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