SWF Storm

[Guest Grand Slam]

The rumble of the clouds…

The flash of lightning…

 

THIS IS STORM!

 

Pyro explodes from all directions, lights ablaze with color, and the fans screaming; mix them together for a hot and exciting show featuring your favorite announcers, Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley!

 

“We are four days removed from 13th Hour. But the fallout still remains! We have a new United States Champion in Mak Francis! Tod deKindes bid us all farewell! Many old and new faces returned, including some not on the card! And Tom Flesher continued his dominant reign, tying Edwin MacPhisto’s record for title defenses! Hello fans, I’m the Heavy Hitter, Mark Stevens. And this is Bobby Riley.”

 

Doing his best Marlon Brando impression, Riley says, “Hey, how ya doin’.”

 

“Tonight, in our main event, Danny Williams defends his Intercontinental Television championship against the man who won Contendership at 13th Hour, Stryke! And before that, a big ten-man battle royal for a shot at Tom Flesher!”

 

“But first, we-“

 

Riley is cut off by the sound of a drum. The lights start to flicker crimson red, as KMFDM’s “Go To Hell” starts to play. Two shadowy figures emerge from the back, slowly illuminated by the light.

 

“And speaking of returnees not on the card…” says Stevens, referring to one of the men coming down the ramp, Thoth. The larger man to his left is Janus, who has allied with The Balancer after the revelations that came at 13th Hour. As they get closer to the ring, it becomes clear that Thoth is wearing a sharp, black business suit. They climb into the ring, and post-hastely the Balancer procures a microphone. The music fades as the Balancer stands proud and attentive in the center of the ring.

 

“I know what you all are thinking,” he begins. “How could you do that to your own brother?”

 

“Yeah! How could you?” adds Stevens.

 

“Well, I did it because I love him. And I hate to see him suffer. You see, he was suffering. And all I did was help to start the healing process. But it’s just that: a process. It’s not over by any stretch of the word. Tonight, as you may know, there is a ten-man battle royale, with the winner facing Tom Flesher for the world heavyweight championship. Both Janus and I have been entered into it, as has Nathaniel Kibagami.” He pauses, not for any particular reason. “As much as I hope to win it, and go on to win the title… I really want Nathan to win.” The crowd murmurs, asking each other questions.

 

“What? That doesn’t make any sense,” says a confounded Stevens.

 

“Sure it does! Thoth just wants what’s best for his brother; he already said that! You need to pay more attention, Stevens; your job review is coming up shortly!” admonishes Riley.

 

“As is yours.”

 

“You see,” Thoth continues, “Like I said before, Nathan has just… lost his fighting spirit. How or why, I don’t know. But I would love to see him get it back. If he beats me for it, great! I wish the best for him.”

 

“But,” he adds, “I’m not just going to stand there and let him throw me out of that ring. He’s going to have to fight me for it, and I assure you, that there is no way that I am going to allow myself to lose.” He turns to Janus. “This match is every man for himself. Every man to his own ends, and not the ends of others. Though we are partners, and friends, Janus, who I might add, is longer associated with the Magnificent Seven… though we are friends, I will hurt you if I have to. I will not give you preferential treatment, I won’t go after you last. Everyone in that ring, if they present to me a target of opportunity, will be eliminated.”

 

Janus stands and nods, understanding perfectly. He leans in towards the mic. “If I see in that ring, I’ll tear you apart.”

 

Thoth laughs out loud. “Excellent, excellent! You are going to be a valuable ally, Janus. And… just in case I win… Tom Flesher, you and I have some unfinished business. Thoth returns the mic, and his music starts to play, as Stevens shills for the upcoming ten-man battle royale. Backstage shots of each other the other eight competitors warming up flash by before we go to commercial.

[Guest Grand Slam]

SWF Storm cuts back form commercial, and not a moment too soon. The lights cut out, the crowd begins to boo like crazy while a cursor pops up on the SmarkTron, which seems to be in DOS mode.

 

Stevens: Welcome back to SWF Storm, live from the Hilton Coliseum in Ames, Iowa! We’re going to start things off with a bang as Va’aiga battles Michael Craven in a hellacious hardcore match!

 

As Mark speaks, keystrokes can be heard in the background as someone types:

 

C:\>dir/SWF

 

This is followed by the distinctive sound of the Enter key being hit. Popping up is the following short list.

 

Directory of C:\SWF\Superstars

 

TheSuperiorOne.exe

WatchMeExplode.exe

VelvetHammer.exe

MaoriBadass.exe

KingOfNightmares.exe

AntichristSuperstar.exe

 

The typing continues on as whoever is typing this in types in:

 

C:\>Run "KingOfNightmares.exe"

 

The typer hits Enter again, but the screen stays, instead, the little cursor flashing brightly and rapidly for several seconds before...

 

“BOOM!”

 

A huge blast of blue and white pyro kicks up, the smoke lingering on stage for quite some time. Strobe lights pulse to the beat of the guitar and drums in the background as Saliva’s “King of My World” kicks in while the crowd begins to raise their boos louder. As the first words kick in, the strobes cut out, a single, blinding light shines from the entryway, piercing through the smoke. The light illuminates the figure of The King of Nightmares himself, Craven’s body shadowing most of his front side. He stops to look at the fans, and quickly, he spins around twice, finishing by pointing to himself, the crowd beginning to boo. Holding his pose for a second, he releases as the chorus ends for the first time, walking down to the ring. The lights are now a deep blue, Craven focused solely on the match.

 

Funyon: The following is a hardcore match, scheduled for one-fall! Introducing first, from Tampa, Florida, weighing in at 280 pounds... “THE KING OF NIGHTMARES” MICHAELLLLL CRAVENNNNNNN!!!

 

Reaching the ring, he climbs the turnbuckle closest to the crowd, opening his arms wide and soaking in the crowd’s response, a chorus of heavy boos except for The Craven Section as a white spotlight shines down upon him. Mike then hops off the turnbuckle, walks across the ring to another turnbuckle, and repeats the whole thing before he hops down, turning to stare at the stage, no smile on his face.

 

Riley: Va’aiga might be big, and he might be the Maori Badass, but nothing’s worse than facing the Master of Hardcore in his signature match!

 

Stevens: I’d have to agree, Bobby. Craven’s a legit hardcore legend in the SWF, and beating him, especially after that close loss to Mak Francis for his US Title, isn’t impossible, but it’s gonna be damn tough!

 

The arena drops to darkness, as Va'aiga's shadow appears in the entranceway, dressed in his hooded training top with the hood down. The bassline of "Bring The Pain" by Method Man starts up and red strobe lights pierce the darkness of the entrance ramp as Va'aiga begins his slow walk to the ring, throwing a few phantom jabs on the way. The Smarktron shows images of Va'aiga shadow boxing and posing, cut with some of his biggest in ring hits. Hopefully, he’ll add one tonight...

 

Funyon: And from New Zealand, weighing in at 285 pounds, he is a member of the Unholy Trinity... The Maori Badass himself... VA’AIGA!!!!

 

Inside the ring Va'aiga rolls down his hood and raises his fists to the crowd, then takes off his top and throws it to a ring assistant before firing off the Maori handsign.

 

Stevens: Va’aiga’s already beaten one hardcore legend, defeating Jay Dawg at 13th Hour. Meanwhile, Craven was beaten by a returning Mak Francis for his US Title, and he’s in a bad mood!

 

Riley: The good news, Mark, is that Craven’s knee seems to be back to 100%, so I’m certainly glad he’ll be all right.

 

Stevens: Craven hasn’t gone hardcore in a long time, and it’ll be interestying to see how he responds to this challenge.

 

Va’aiga brings his arm down, but Craven chages from behind, nailing Va’aiga in the back with a forearm! The Maori is slightly thrown forward, no more than a quick trip-up, but he remains on his feet.The referee turns around, signaling to the timekeeper...

 

 

DING DING DING!

 

 

As the match begins, Va’aiga turns around, right into a hard right jab from Craven! The Maori Badass’ head whips to the side, Craven drawing his arm back again before he unleashes another hard jab into Va’aiga’s face, producing the same result. Craven then waistlocks the bigger man, but Va’aiga brings his knee up into Craven’s chest, breaking the hold. Va’aiga then grabs Craven by the arm, whipping him to the ropes! Craven reverses, though, sending Va’aiga towards the ropes, but as he passes The King of Nightmares, Craven steps behind him, hammerlocking him. Va’aiga, though, elbows Craven in the face, reversing into his won hammerlock! Craven counters quickly, reaching back and snapmarring Va’aiga to the mat. He flows into a reverse chinlock, but Va’aiga elbows him hard in the chest, breaking the hold as he and Craven rise back up to their feet.

 

Stevens: And they’re starting off this hardcore match with some mat wrestling!

 

Riley: Well, it’s the closest thing I’ll see to Tom Flesher wrestling tonight... so I’ll take it.

 

While both men rise, Craven makes a move, catching Va’aiga off guard with a right hook! This stuns Va’aiga just long enough for Craven to grab him by the wrist, whipping him to the ropes. As he hits and comes back form the ropes, Va’aiga sticks his arm out for a lariat, but Craven ducks, clutching him across his body, and hooking Va’aiga’s right leg with his, slams him down to the mat back first!

 

Stevens: Judo takeodwn by The King of Nightmares, who really seems to be trying to pound Va’aiga into the mat as much as he can!

 

Riley: Oddly enough, Va’aiga is the one usually using that technique.

 

As Va’aiga rises to his feet, Craven draws his arm back, cracking it hard across the chest of Va’aiga with a chop!

 

Crowd: WOOOO!

 

Va’aiga remains up, but lurches back slightly. Craven draws his arm back again, cracking it hard across the chest of Va’aiga with another hard chop!

 

Crowd: WOOOO!

 

Stevens: Craven continuing his offense with a hard series of chops!

 

Riley: Craven’s trying to chop down the big Maori tree!!!

 

Stevens: What? That didn’t really make sense, Bobby...

 

This time, Va’aiga doesn’t move at all. Craven looks befuddled, but he draws his arm back once more, lashing out with a knife-edge chop into Va’aiga’s chest for the third time!

 

Crowd: WOOOO!

 

Riley: Um.... why isn’t he moving?

 

Once more, Va’aiga almost seems to no-sell the chop. Craven, growing more frantic by the minute, lashes out with a fourth chop, but as soon as he hits it...

 

 

 

 

“WHAM!”

 

 

Va’aiga slams him to the mat with a stiff, hard lariat! Craven hits the mat hard, laying out on it for a second before slowly getting to his feet, but the Maori Badass responds, letting out a battle cry before he thrusts his arm forward into Craven’s face, The Gulf Coast Hurricane knocked off his feet and onto his back by the big punch!

 

Stevens: WHOA! Va’aiga just sent Craven flying back with that punch!

 

Riley: Oh come on, now. Don’t go all JR on me and start over-hyping everything.

 

Craven staggers back up onto his feet, slightly dazed by that last blow. He shakes his head, trying to get back on track, but before he can, Va’aiga is drawing his arm back, hitting Craven across the face with a hard left hook! Another hard blow into Craven’s face dazes the former Hardcore Champion, allowing Va’aiga to grab him by the arm and whip him to the ropes! Craven hits them, bouncing right back off. As he flies back at the Maori Badass, Va’aiga collects him across his chest, then spins and drops to the mat, slamming Craven down with an Irish whip powerslam! Craven cries out as Va’aiga holds on, covering him for the first pin-fall attempt of the match!

 

 

One!!!

 

 

Kickout by Craven! The crowd goes a little more silent after the kickout, the bigger Va’aiga getting back up onto his feet first. Craven is a little slow to get to his, allowing Va’aiga time to kick Craven in the chest. The King of Nightmares doubles over, Va’aiga grabbing him around the head, and grabbing onto his singlet, he hoists Craven into the air. Holding the 280-lb monster there for several second, he then drops back, slamming Craven down with a stalling suplex.

 

Stevens: Powerful suplex from Va’aiga! He’s already working Craven into his “Turn Up, Kick Ass!” routine!

 

Riley: Routine my ass. He’s just throwing Craven around, and he’s gonna injure the poor man!

 

As Craven gets to his feet, Va’aiga moves to the side, grabbing him from behind, and liftng him up, drops down to one knee quickly, dropping Craven into a backbreaker! Craven grabs his back as Va’aiga releases him, holding it as he tries to wiggle towards the ropes. Va’aiga follows in pursuit while Craven reaches out, grabbing hold of something slid to him, and as Va’aiga closes in on Craven...

 

 

 

“CLANK!”

 

 

 

Craven slams an unseen steel chair into Va’aiga’s face! The Maori staggers back, stunned by the quick blow as Craven swings again...

 

 

“CLANK!”

 

 

Unleashing a second chair shot, this one to Va’aiga’s rib cage! Va’aiga collapses onto his back as Craven rises to his feet, ordering his belt girls to plunder the ringside area in search of a few weapons for him. The girls go to work, quickly taking possession of the steel steps outside the ring. Craven, meanwhile, steps over Va’aiga, lifting the chair up before he jams the top of the seat into Va’aiga’s ribs! Va'aiga lets out a grunt of pain, as Craven had hoped for.

 

Stevens: The first use of a weapon comes at the hands of Michael Craven! A hard chairshot to Va’aiga, then another one to his ribs!

 

Riley: Finally. I was getting tired of seeing boring old wrestling in a hardcore match.

 

Lifting the chair up again, he jams it again into Va’aiga’s ribs as hard as he can, repeating this a few more times. Va’aiga moans and grunts in pain with each chair shot to the ribs. Craven stops for a brief moment to taunt Va’aiga before he swings it down for a blow to the face, but Va’aiga catches the chair! The two men struggle over it a la Hogan and Andre from Wrestlemania IV, but the New Zealander coils his legs up to his chest, thrusting them into Craven’s chest! The King of Nightmares is thrown back to the mat by the kick, giving Va’aiga sole possession of the chair!

 

Stevens: The Maori Badass counters and he’s got the chair now! Craven’s going to be in a world of hurt momentarily!

 

As Va’aiga gets to his feet, he pumps the chair into the air, sending the crowd into a frenzy as Craven rises to his feet. Va’aiga swings the chair down hard at Craven, but he sidesteps the chair shot! Quickly, though, he steps to the side, sldiing his right foot around and trpping Va’aiga back with it! Va'aiga lands on his back, Craven quickly dropping an elbow into Va’aiga’s chest for what seems like good measure, but instead, he remains on top of him, covering him for an attempted pin!

 

 

One!

 

Va’aiga kicks out, knocking Craven off his chest! The King of Nightmares slowly rises to his feet, stomping at Va’aiga’s ribs as he does. Once there, he bends down, grabbing Va’aiga and pulling him to his feet, but the Maori reawakens, grabbing Craven through the legs and over the shoulder as he gets up. He hoitsts Craven off the mat, and turning around, slams him down at a high angle, Craven landing on the steel chair he was using on Va’aiga earlier! The big man remains on his feet, throwing another Maori handsign into the air as he proclaims...

 

Va’aiga: BOO-YAH!

 

Stevens: Massive body slam from Va’aiga onto that steel chair... and here’s a cover!

 

One!

 

 

Two-Craven kicks out! The King of Nightmares tries to roll out of the way, but a big Maori elbow to his back cuts him off. Va’aiga starts to get to his feet, but one of Craven’s belt girls slides him a garbage can lid, which he promptly smashes over Va’aiga’s head.

 

Stevens: Craven’s getting a little too much help from his belt girls...

 

Riley: So? It’s legal. Anything goes in this match. Stop yer whining.

 

The rest of the garbage can comes next, but Craven moves that to the side as he gets to his feet along with Va’aiga. Still cluthcing that lid, he throws it at Va’aiga’s chest, the Maori instinctively catching it, allowing Craven to jump into the air and dropkick Va’aiga! The lid smashes into Va’aiga’s chest, still cut up and bruised from his encounter with Jay Dawg, causing him to temporarily fall back and cry out in pain. Craven lands on his back, grunting before he rolls out of the ring, landing outside of it. Turning around, he throws the apron up, and reaching under the ring, pulls out a table, a ladder, and a steel pipe, sliding them back into the ring before he slides himself in. Va’aiga has gotten to his feet by now, clutching hold of that steel chair from before, and quickly, as Craven rises, he swings it...

 

 

 

“CLANK!”

 

 

But Craven blocks with the steel pipe! The two weapons meet, both men trying to force their weapon through to the opponent, but the weapons slide, causing the two to sumble back and allowing the to reset.

 

Stevens: If I remember correctly, we saw something like this in Craven’s debut match in the SWF, back when he was-

 

Riley: Don’t say that name if you value your life, Mark. Craven WILL kill you.

 

Va’aiga makes the first move, swinging the chair at Craven as he recovers, but The King of Nightmares dodges, both men spinning back around to face each other. Craven swings his pipe ay Va’aiga’s face, but the Maori Badass bends himself back just enough to miss the shot, Craven spinning around as Va’aiga swings his chair again!

 

 

“CLANK!”

 

 

However, Craven amazingly blocks with the pipe again! The two men repeat what happened last time, but this time, instead of staggering back, Craven spins around, hoping to nail Va’aiga with the pipe...

 

 

“CLANK!”

 

 

But Va’aiga blocks with the now heavily dented in chair! Craven, though, quickly counters, pulling back. This causes Va’aiga to stumble forward, Craven responding by smashing Va’aiga’s ribs with the steel pipe, as he had intended to in the first place! Va’aiga doubles over, Craven dropping the pipe as he backs up. Va’aiga drops the steel chair to the mat under himself, grabbing his ribs in pain as Craven steps forward, leaping ito the air before he swings one leg up and down, then the other, scissor-kicking Va’aiga to the mat and onto the steel chair!

 

Stevens: CRAVEN KICK ONTO THAT CHAIR! Va’aiga gets a faceful of steel from Craven!

 

The Maori Badass bounces off the chair, cluthcing his face and ribs as he lands on his back. Craven, though, drops down on top of him, covering him as he attempts another pin:

 

 

One!!!

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

Kickout by Va’aiga!!! Craven seems a little more than stunned, but getting to his feet, he makes his way over to the table, setting it up in the corner before he makes his way back to Va’aiga.

 

Riley: Only a two-count? Where’d this guy learn to ref at? He’s horrible!!

 

Stevens: Matthew Kivell is a seasoned veteran of the ring! He knows what he’s doing!

 

Riley: He also routinely got his ass handed to him by some of the weirdest characters I’ve ever seen.

 

Stevens: I didn’t know your family wrestled, Bobby...

 

As Va'aiga gets to his feet, Craven pounds away, nailing him with hard kicks to the chest that begin to send him back towards the corner opposite the table. Craven stops, only to grab Va’aiga by the arm and whip him towards the table. The Maori reverses, sending Craven towards the table, but The Gulf Coast Hurricane puts the brakes on before he hits the table. He breathes a sigh of relief, but as he turns around, he bumps into Va’aiga, who grabs him around the waist. Lifting him into the air, Va’aiga releases him, Craven flying through the air and slamming to the mat via an overhead release belly to belly suplex!

 

Stevens: Big belly to belly from Va’aiga! This is just what he needs to regain momentum!

 

Riley: Craven cannot let Va’aiga throw him around like that if he hopes to win. I don’t know if this is some sort of secret strategy or not-

 

Stevens: Why do you always say Craven’s got some “secret strategy”?

 

Riley: Because he probably does. The hell if I know what he’s thinking exactly. I’m not some damn psychic, Mark!

 

Craven grabs his back as he gets to his feet, slowly , but he takes a hard left cross to the face. Craven staggers back, but Va’aiga keeps up with him and uncorks another left cross! The blow cocks Cravens’ head to the side, and as he brings it back around, he gets another left cross for his troubles, dazing him! Va’aiga then kisses the fist, signaling the end of the combo, following up with a BIG right hook thatrattles Craven’s skull, knocks the spit from his mouth, and sends him to the mat!

 

Riley: Damn, what a combo! I forgot I was watching a wrestling match there for a second! I was waiting for the ref to call the match due to TKO!

 

Va’aiga quickly drops down, covering Craven for another pin-fall attempt!

 

One!!!

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

Stevens: Kickout by Craven! I don’t believe it! I thought Va’aiga might have had him!

 

Riley: What, with a few stupid punches? Craven’s a hardcore icon. He’s not going down to just a few punches.

 

Craven rolls over, but Va’aiga leaps up, bring his legs up as he legdrops Craven! Craven cries out in pain, rolling over to the ropes, which he grabs onto as he begins to pull himself up, the crowd chanting Va’aiga’s name as he rises to his feet.

 

Stevens: Va’aiga’s gaining steam, and the King of Nightmares might be in trouble here!

 

Riley: Oh crap, this isn’t good...

 

Craven clutches his back, writhing in pain while Va’aiga secures the table he was nearly whipped into before, leaning it against the ropes closest to the announcers. Va’aiga grabs Craven as he lies there, lifting him to his feet and leaning him against the table before he runs for the opposite ropes.

 

Stevens: Oh my God! He’s gonna spear Craven through that table! That’s got to be the end of this match, for sure!

 

Riley: I’m getting the hell out of here!

 

Va’aiga bounces back, crouching down for one of his trademark tackles, but Craven suddenly snaps himself out of it, and grabbing the table, spins out of the way, sending Va’aiga through the empty ropes and causing him to land chest-first into the announcer’s table outside the ring!

 

Stevens: LOOK OUT!

 

Riley: He didn’t even hit us! Don’t tell me to look out!

 

Va’aiga falls to the ground as Craven rolls out of the ring. He still looks a bit shocked from his brush with disaster, and grabbing Va’aiga, drags him to his feet, only to ram his ribs into the apron before he rolls him back in, sliding in himself.

 

Riley: Look at how the King of Nightmare’s works those ribs. I expect him to keep working them when he gets back into the ring.

 

Grabbing the ladder now as he rises up, Craven drags Va’aiga in between the rungs, slamming it shut on him. Va’aiga cries out with a grunt as Craven then makes his way to the top rope, turning around and repositioning himself. Then, he leaps off, contracting and extending his legs as he drops onto the ladder and Va’aiga with a five-star frog splash! The ring shakes as Craven bounces off the ladder, landing again on his back as he grabs it in pain, Va’aiga rolling out of the ladder.

 

Riley: FIVE... STAR... FROG... SPLASH!!! This has to be it!

 

Stevens: I wouldn’t doubt that, but he’s still got to make the cover!!!

 

Craven slowly rolls over, crawling back to Va’aiga, his body draping across Va’aiga as the ref drops down to count...

 

 

One!!!

 

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!!!! VA’AIGA SOMEHOW KICKS OUT!!! Craven cusses loudly, but he grabs Va’aiga, stomping at his chest as he pulls him to his feet. Grabbing his wrist, he whips Va’aiga to the ropes, and as Va’aiga bounces back, the Maori lifts his leg, slamming Craven in the head with a hard yakuza kick!

 

Stevens: What a turn of events! First, Craven doesn’t get the three-count, and now, he’s gotten yakuza kicked in the face!

 

Riley: Craven’s not losing, though. All it’s gonna take is just one more move and it’s game over!

 

Stevens: For Craven, perhaps!

 

With a much more serious tone, Va’aiga grabs Craven by the back of his neck, forcing him up into a bent-over position. The crowd explodes in cheer as Va’aiga reaches over, grabbing Craven and lifting him onto his shoulders. Va’aiga spins around, stepping towards the ladder...

 

 

 

“CLANK!” And powerbombing Craven onto it! The King of Nightmares cries out, but bounces away from the outside before he lands, curling up as he grabs his back in pain.

 

Stevens: WHAT A POWERBOMB! Craven just got taken on the ride of his life! He’s gotta be a bruised, bloody mess by now!

 

Riley: This isn’t even fair! Va’aiga shouldn’t be allowed to do this!

 

Stevens: But anything goes in hardcore matches, Bobby! You’ve said it before yourself!

 

As Va’aiga stands tall, he points towards the table, signaling his intent to slam Craven through it! The crowd goes nuts as Va’aiga grabs the table, setting it up quickly before he turns to face Craven again. The King of Nightmares is stil in la-la land after the last powerbomb he took onto the ladder, his back red and bruised from the hard drop. Va’aiga once more grabs Craven and hoists him onto his shoulders for a powerbomb, but Craven desperately jams his thumb into Va’aiga’s eye, allowing him to drop of Va’aiga’s shoulders. Bending over, he grabs Va’aiga, trying to lift him up for a flap jack, but the Maori knows better, and with an elbow into Craven’s back, he forces Craven to the mat again. This isn’t the end of it all, though, as Va’aiga pulls Craven up, grabbing Craven as he lifts him up across his chest. Then, letting out a cry, he runs forward, picking up steam before he jumps and falls, slamming Craven down to the mat! However, he bounces off the mat as well, landing on his back next to Craven.

 

Stevens: RUNNING MAORI DROP!!! VA’AIGA HIT CRAVEN WITH A RUNNING MAORI DROP!!!

 

Riley: But Va’aiga’s bounced off him! It ain’t over yet!

 

Va’aiga slowly rolls over, his arm draping across Craven’s chest as the ref drops down to count...

 

 

One!!!

 

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!!!! CRAVEN SOMEHOW KICKS OUT!!! The delay after the move gave Craven time to recover just enough to stop Va’aiga from defeating him. The crowd boos at the ref as he holds up two fingers, Va’aiga arguing with him as he gets to his feet.

 

Stevens: That should have ended it!!! Va’aiga had Craven down for three, but he took too long in making the cover!

 

Riley: Looks like Craven’s work on Va’aiga’s ribs from before mught have paid off there. That’s the reason he didn’t lose!

 

The Maori Badass gets into Kivell’s face, Kivell inisiting that it was a two-count. Va’aiga, though, grabs him around the throat throwing him back into the corner before he turns around, crowd popping for Va’aiga as he grabs Craven, preparing to launch him through the table. As Va'aiga pulls Craven to his feet, though, The King of Nightmares suddenly grabs him around the ankles, and lifting him up, he drops back, forcing him to hit the mat hard on his chest and face with a huge flap jack!!!

 

 

 

“CRUNCH!” The table finally splinters as Va'aiga slams into the table, both men going down as the crowd gasps in horror.

 

Stevens: OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! VA’AIGA’S JUST BEEN DROPPED THROUGH THAT TABLE!!! BOTH MEN DOWN!!!

 

Riley: ...THAT WAS AWESOME!!! I WANT TO SEE CRAVEN DO IT AGAIN!!!

 

The crowd boos loudly, Va’aiga lying in the remnants of what once was a table, Craven slowly getting to his feet slowly, breath heavy as blood barely oozes from a cut Va’aiga gave him before. His face shows his mood, a mood of unsatisfaction. He’s not happy with what he’s got now, and as he gets to his feet, he plans to finish this off, staggering back towards the turnbuckle.

 

Riley: That’s the look! That’s the look that says... “This is over!!!”

 

Va’aiga remains down on the mat as Craven slowly ascends to the top rope, lining himself up with Va’aiga in the process. And then, he somersaults backwards...

 

 

 

Sticking out both knees…

 

 

 

 

AND LANDS ON VA’AIGA! Craven bounces off Va’aiga, landing on his back to Va’aiga’s side.

 

Riley: KINGDOM COME! HE HIT IT! DAMNIT, MAKE THE COVER, CRAVEN!

 

Stevens: I don’t think he can! He’s taken too much pounding on his back!

 

Craven rolls over, crawling slowly until he slides on top of Va’aiga. Kivell drops to count:

 

 

 

One!!!

 

 

 

 

Two!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

Craven immediately releases the pin and rolls to the outside of the ring. He wants nothing more to do with this monster.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

Funyon: The winner of this match by pin-fall... MICHAEL CRAVEN!!!

 

As Craven is helped to his feet by his belt girls... Va’aiga slowly sits up, grabbing his ribs. The ref goes over to check on him, but he shoves him out of the way and onto his back as he slowly rises to his feet. Craven just stares in disbelief. He doesn’t believe that Va’aiga is able to get up after that one-two combo, much less breathe. Neither does anyone else.

 

Stevens: My God! Look at Va’aiga! He’s getting right back up!

 

Riley: You’re kidding me!! Craven put some huge power moves on him!!!

 

Stevens: Could we be seeing the next Hardcore Champion? Is Va’aiga really this strong? I dunno, but I can guarantee you that CIA is watching what’s going on right now with great attention!

 

As Va’aiga rises, he points to Craven and signals him to get back in the ring and bring it, but a spooked Craven signals that he doesn’t want to, quickly staggerng back up the ramp as we fade off to commercial...

[Guest Grand Slam]

FADE IN

 

Coming forth from his dressing room, already dressed and ready for his battle royal later on tonight for a shot at the World Heavyweight Champion, Wildchild heads towards a soda machine. Checking his options over, the Bahamas Bomber places a few coins into the machine and pulls forth a refreshing bottle of water to help hydrate himself before the torture he is about to endure for a shot at Tom Flesher. But when he turns back to head to his locker room, another member of The Magnificent Seven is there, waiting with a smile on his face.

 

“Hi there, Shoeless Joe,” laughs the annoying voice of Ejiro Fasaki.

 

“What d'you want?”

 

“What? Can’t a fellow member of your graduating class say hello every once in while? After all, we are the only ones left now. No more Fugue, and soon, no more Johnny.”

 

“What de hell are you talkin’ 'bout?”

 

Ejiro mouth spreads into a slow smile. “A little birdie told me he was running for the hills. Too bad, though; after all the bitching you two did to get a shot at me and The Judge, your partner runs out before we even get a chance to slap you two down.”

 

“You’re full of it,” snaps Wildchild. “Johnny’s not goin’ anywhere, an’ when we get our shot, we’re gon’ take you out, belie’ dat!”

 

Ejiro shrugs, the infuriating smirk still on his face. “Maybe he is, and maybe he isn’t. But quite frankly, I was looking forward to beating the hell out of you again. So, if he really IS bailing on you, well, I’m sure you can imagine my disappointment.”

 

“I didn’t have to imagine making you quit our last day in the SJL, Ejiro. So don’t tempt me to do it again.”

 

Wildchild walks back into Catch-22’s locker room and leaves Ejiro standing there at the machine.

 

“Tempt you huh? Sounds like one heck of an idea,” smiles the oily face of the tag team champion as he walks back to the bowls of the arena from whence he came.

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[Guest Grand Slam]

We cut to the back, showing the door to the Magnificent Seven locker room. “What’s this?” asks Stevens as the door opens and The Judge, William Hearford and Ejiro Fasaki step out, heading down en route to the entrance for their match. Meanwhile, the camera steps through the open door, showing Sean Atlas and Tom Flesher, dressed in street clothes. Midway through the conversation, we listen in...

 

 

“Right” Sean says. “But where does that leave us?”

 

“Right where we were before” says the World Champion. “Losing him could hurt us, yes, but how productive was he since he joined? I mean really, all he was focusing on was one guy. You at least took care of a whole other stable.”

 

“We still need a replacement though. Honestly, you can’t have a group calling itself the Magnificent Seven when we barely have half of that. There’s just a short supply of guys willing to join.”

 

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out. It’s not like we’ll fall apart if we stay at four. It’s not about numbers so much as talent, and right now I can’t think of any more talented people than Judge, Ejiro and you. As far as I go, don’t you worry. This belt won’t leave my waist for a LONG time.”

 

“Good point. And it’s not like you needed our help anyway, considering how many defenses you’ve had.”

 

“Exactly. And what happens tonight won’t be much different. Don’t worry about me, just go out there and do what you can do. I can beat any one of those guys in that match, and if you don’t win, don’t worry about the World Title, I’ll take care of that.”

 

“And if I do win?”

 

“Then you know what happens.”

 

“Alright, alright. Good to know where we stand.” Says Sean as he stands up.

 

“Go get ready, buddy. Some of those guys know all too well what they’re doing out there.”

 

“I know. I’ll go prep myself; maybe watch Judge and Ejiro light the place on fire.” Says Atlas as he heads for the door. Flesher, meanwhile, turn the TV on, preparing to catch the Tag Team match as well.

 

 

“That was interesting.” Stevens notes. “What do you think they plan to do if Atlas wins tonight’ Battle Royal?”

 

“I’m not sure. Maybe he’ll get Atlas to lay down for him? Maybe they’ll just work a boring match... who knows?” says a perplexed Bobby Riley.

 

“In any case, we’ve got to take a break, but when we come back, make sure to watch Justice and Rule take on the team of Beezel and Mike Van Siclen!”

 

“And don’t use this as a pee break!” Riley yells as the feed streams into commercials...

[Guest Grand Slam]

And we return back to a brimming Hilton Coliseum as SWF Storm returns from a commercial break! Panning across the arena, signs like “Being in Catch-22: It’s a No-Win Situation!”, “Stay Frosty”, and “Where’s my Flesher?” After the long pan we quickly cut down to the announcer’s table, where Mark Stevens and Bobbie Riley are going over the match.

 

“This next match up is certainly could be the breakout moment that Catch-22 needs to get back on the map.”

 

”What, another loss?”

 

“No, a possible victory against the undefeated Tag Champions is just what the doctor ordered to put some life into the stable.”

 

“The only thing that could put some life into Catch-22 is the pair of electroshock paddles they use to revive the thing before their matches.”

 

“The following non-title Tag Team match is set for ONE FALL…”

 

Suddenly Rivers Cuomo's voice sings out to the audience "I'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon...." followed by a sheet of red pyro exploding on the entrance ramp. Through the resulting smoke comes Beezel and MVS, both taking some time to pose together for the crowd before moving down the ramp, slapping the hands of people all around.

 

“Now entering the ring at a combined weight of 442 pounds… BEEZEL AND MIKE VAN SICLEN OF CATCH! TWENTY! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Certainly a rag-tag pair, but that’s what everyone thought of CCBB and even Justice and Rule. Sometimes you can find greatness in the most unlikely of places.”

 

“I’ll agree that looking at Catch-22 is one unlikely place. When in God’s name was the last time one of them actually won a match?”

 

The two slide into the ring together and each take a corner as they raise their arms to the crowd, sparking a big cheer before they jump back down and go over two their corner as the lights begin to go down.

 

“JUSTICE!”

 

“RULE!”

 

“Sleep Now in the Fire” by Rage Against the Machine plays as replays of the Tag Champs’ finest moments replay on the SmarkTron. The crowd boos as the guitar suddenly turns heavy…

 

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP

 

And bursts of red machinegun pyro shoot up from the stage as Justice and Rule themselves enter, looking as confident as ever.

 

“Now entering the ring, coming in at a combine weight of 430 pounds, the undefeated Tag Team CHAMPIONS…. JUSTICE! AND! RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULE!”

 

“Justice and Rule are coming off a big PPV win against Frost and Longdogger Pete while both Beezel and MVS lost their respective matches, so J&R do have the momentum here.”

 

“They’ve had the momentum ever since they got the damn belts! Right now they are the longest running tag champs in the history of the SWF and there isn’t a team they haven’t beaten yet.”

 

The two get up onto the ropes and get into the ring, and look over at their opponents, the two giving a loud laugh, obviously not taking their competition seriously.

 

WHAM!

 

WHAM!

 

Of course, clotheslines do wonder for respect.

 

“It looks like Justice and Rule didn’t find that one terribly funny, but the crowd sure loved it,” says Mark with a smirk as the crowd explodes at Catch-22 laying out the tag champs.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The ref quickly goes for the bell, but Catch-22 doesn’t miss a step as they pull up a stunned Hearford and toss him at the ropes, allowing him to bounce back for a double dropkick! The Judge goes down like a shot, but Ejiro comes up to be decked himself with multiple punches from the pair of stablemates! The ref immediately grabs MVS from the double team and directs him to the outside, and the Spectacle complies, allowing the ref to stop a recovering from getting a revenge attack.

 

“Well, it sure looks like Catch-22 has been practicing for this one,” notes Grand Slam, “This looks like the match they want to turn everything around with. And I have to agree: Defeating the dominant tag team in the league will certainly give Catch-22 something to be proud about.”

 

As odds even up in the ring, Beezel begins throwing some of her Tajiri-esque kicks into Ejiro’s body, and Fasaki can only stagger back and try to block the kicks best he can. Quickly spinning around, the masked man nails a hard roundhouse kick to Rule’s knee, nearly putting him on the ground. Taking the chance to hit a big move when he can, Mr. B immediately runs backwards at the ropes…

 

”And it looks he’s gonna douse the flames!” calls Grand Slam as the masked man goes for his trademark Shining Wizard…

 

CRACK!

 

“I’d have to say that doused his flames,” giggles Riley as Ejiro waited just long enough for Beezel to be in prime position for a massive counter-elbow! “Hell, I think that was hard enough to knock the flames right off his suit!”

 

Beezel hits the canvas holding his mask while Fasaki holds his elbow for a moment, uttering a “Damn it, hit the hard part…” as he slowly gets back to his feet. He goes over to Beezel and grabs him by the hair, pulling him up and getting ready to whip him at the ropes, but El Scorcho reverse it, tossing Ejiro away instead. Ejiro comes back on the return trip, leapfrogging over the short man. He comes back again, and this time Beezel grabs Ejiro’s head, spinning him around and taking him to the mat with a spinning Neckbreaker! Fasaki clutches his neck as Beezel quickly tags in MVS into the match!

 

Rushing in to the sound of cheers from the fans around him, the Spectacular One doesn’t miss a heartbeat as he nails a rising Ejiro down with a running knee to the chest! Fasaki falls down to the mat again, and MVS makes a quick cover.

 

ONE!

 

T-And Ejiro kicks out easily!

 

“And the challengers make the first pinning attempt. I have to say that Beezel and Mike have just come out of the gate like a rocket,” says Grand Slam as Mike brings Ejiro up for a quick Knife-Edged chop (“WHOO!”), “They’ve really stunned the champs early on with their attacks, and if they keep this pressure on them a victory can’t be far behind.”

 

Again, Mike nails knife-edged chops on Ejiro (“WHOO!”) and he keeps (“WHOO!”) up the attack (“WHOO!”) as the crowd follows along (“WH-“)- but Fasaki isn’t going to let himself get beat down, and as Mike winds up for one of his chops he brings up an elbow right into his face! Mike himself stumbles back, and Fasaki lets out a flurry of elbows into Van Siclen’s face. Mike stumbles backwards and Ejiro goes for another whip, but Mike’s size allow him to reverse it easily. Ejiro comes back as Mike prepares a back body drop, but Ejiro leaps over the top, grabbing MVS around the waist as he goes over and pulling him down with a Sommerset Flip!

 

ONE!

 

 

TW-No! Mike kicks out strong, throwing Ejiro backwards with the force of it. But the pinfall gives Ejiro a chance to scramble to his feet and get a tag to Justice.

 

The crowd boos as Hearford rushes in towards rising Mike, rushing at him with a lariat… that Mike ducks under! The crowd does a 180 as they watch Mike grab the arm and pull it around the Judge’s neck as Mike sits out, cracking his neck with one swift motion!

 

“Blackjack Neckbreaker! And now Justice is down!”

 

The Judge clutches his neck as Van Siclen gets back up, waving his hands in the air trying to fire up the crowd, who readily oblige him. The noise levels rise up as Hearford himself begins to get up, and Van Siclen turns around as the Judge gets up, offering his open hands in a challenge for a knuckle lock. Hearford gives him a leery look, but he slowly approaches and the two reach their hands out cautiously, almost there… and they lock up, instantly putting all their power forwards into the struggle. Soon, though, Mike begins to be pressed backwards, bending back as Hearford pushes forwards… and Mike doesn’t fall as he bridges out in full, getting a few “Ooohs” from the crowd. But there’s even more of a reaction as Mike begins to come back, and it’s not hard to hear the approval of the crowd as he finally reaches a standing position again.

 

“A full bridge! Amazing flexibility and strength there on the part of the Spectacle.”

 

But instead of continuing the battle, Hearford decides to take an easier way out, kneeing Mike in the stomach. MVS gives a grunt as he bends over a little, and the chance isn’t passed up as Hearford quickly twists his arms and wraps Mike in a straitjacket hold, and he quickly pulls him over the top for a Straitjacket Suplex!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

T-And Mike kicks out strong again!

 

Hearford gets up as the hold is broken from the kickout, and as MVS gets up to his knees the Judge grabs him in a waistlock, trying to pull him up for a German Suplex. He tries to lift him up, but MVS quickly tosses an elbow backwards, nailing Hearford in the nose, throwing him off and allowing MVS to make a standing switch. Almost immediately Hearford begins moving towards the ropes to try and throw Mike off, but it doesn’t work as Mike holds him up, bouncing off the ropes and falling backwards to get a Rube Goldbergian-style rollup!

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR-And the Judge kicks out! He begins to get up, but the rollup served its purpose as Mike gets up after the kickout and moves towards Beezel, making the tag in.

 

*SLAP*

 

And to a rush of cheers comes in Beezel, who nails the rising Judge with a sharp kick to the head! Hearford falls back on his face, and Beezel quickly begins pounding into the old man with sharp kicks, laying him out as he tries to get back up to his feet. As the Judge lies on the ground trying to recover from sharp kicks to the head, Mr. B runs at the nearest side and leaps up onto the second rope, springboarding off and flipping right onto Justice’s back! The Judge’s body arches backwards in pain as Beezel flips him over for a pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRENO! The Judge gets a shoulder up!

 

“And another near pin by Catch-22! The tag champs are really getting out worked by MVS and Mr. B right now. They’d better wake up or prepare to lose their perfect record.”

 

“Oh, I KNEW I should have brought my coffee cup down here, but Tom had the night off. Damn all…”

 

Pulling the stunned Justice up to his feet, Beezel grabs his wrist and whips him into the corner, where he hits with a thunderous impact! Lining himself up just right, Beezel gets a running start before he does a cartwheel followed by a backflip elbow right into the Judge’s temple! The crowd goes wild as the Judge stumbles out like a drunken politician while Beezel looks at the turnbuckle for a second before motioning to the top rope.

 

“And it looks like Beezel is going up to the top!”

 

Leaping up to the top, Beezel waits patiently for Hearford to regain his bearings after that staggering blow. Stammering up to his feet, The Judge wafts back and forth as though a stiff breeze could knock him to the canvas. But Beezel surely wants to provide something a little more powerful and leaps into the air to collide with his savage opponent. And collide he does.

 

WHAMMMM!

 

“OH MY GOD! The Judge just decapitated Beezel as he came off the top rope with a mammoth lariat!”

 

“That’s why Justice and Rule have been the most dominant tag team in the history of our sport! They don’t fool around with fancy moves or take chances. They grind your bones to make their bread and go yummy all night long!”

 

Striking Beezel as El Scorcho came hurtling down at him, The Judge swings out his well-muscled arm and nearly dislodges the mask with all the force that he can muster. Wringing out his own arm at the shoulder from his own devastating blow, Hearford reaches out to his tag team partner in order to get this match more under The Magnificent Seven’s control. Stepping into the ring, Ejiro Fasaki joins his partner as they heave Mr. B into the ropes before catching him on the rebound and lifting him high into the air before dropping strait backward with a double flapjack that mashes Beezel’s face right into the hard canvas. Reaching over immediately, Fasaki hooks the far leg as The Judge heads out of the ring in an attempt to put this match away.

 

ONE!

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOONOOOO!

 

Mr. B still manages to have enough spirit coursing through his body to force a shoulder off the canvas and stave off the loss in this highly important contest for Catch-22. But he sill cannot fight off the tag team champions as Fasaki continues to pound away with a series of stomps that continue to place the masked man on the defensive. Forcing Beezel up and into a neutral corner, Fasaki tosses a number of shoulder blocks into Beezel’s gut with a ruthless effectiveness. Taking Number One by the wrist, Ejiro heaves him across the ring and immediately follows right behind with a leaping knee to the face only to have the nimble mask man dive out of the way in the nick of time to escape the blow. Slamming his own body into the ropes as quickly as he can, Mr. B comes flying back at his momentarily hobbled foe and knocks the tag team champion to the mat with a sense staggering flying forearm.

 

POP!

 

Rolling fluidly into his corner, Beezel reaches up and makes the tag to bring Mike Van Siclen back into the contest. And The Spectacle immediately goes to work with a number of harsh rabbit punches to the back of Ejiro’s head to get the member of The Magnificent Seven in greater trouble. Tossing Fasaki into the ropes, Van Siclen leaps into the air and catches Ejiro on the rebound with a spinning wheel kick that knocks Rule back to the canvas. Trying to keep the momentum flowing in Catch-22’s direction, Mike picks Ejiro up immediately and darts in behind with a tight waist lock looking for a German suplex, but Ejiro counters the throw with a number of dirty back elbows to the face of his opponent to secure a break. Running into the ropes, Fasaki rebounds at what he thinks is the stunned MVS, but instead gets jerks high into the air and spiked into the canvas with a powerslam that rocks the entire canvas. Hooking Ejiro up tightly with his entire body, Van Siclen hooks him up and goes for the victory.

 

ONE!

 

TWOOOONNOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Kicking away, Ejiro keeps from ending this contest, but he still has to find a way to escape from the clutches of The Spectacle. Cinching Ejiro up immediately after the kick out, Mike Van Siclen hooks his opponent and rips him into the mat with a stunning snap suplex. Rolling over immediately into another lateral press, Van Siclen tries for another quick two count as the referee counts away…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Forcing his shoulder off the mat again, Ejiro once more keeps his shoulders from being pressed down for the three. But still, Mike Van Siclen shows no signs of frustration as he continues to go on the assault by hooking up behind the stunned tag team champion and lifting him high into the air for a belly-to-back suplex. But the wily Ejiro rotates over Van Siclen’s shoulder and lands behind him on his feet, hooking Mike up from behind!

 

“He’s going for it right here!”

 

BOOOOM!

 

“REVERSE FISHERMAN’S SUPLEX! HE JUST DROPPED MVS ON HIS HEAD!”

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREEEENOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT!”

 

Using all of his power, Van Siclen breaks Ejiro’s cradle and flops all the way over to his stomach as Fasaki lifts a questioning eyebrow to the referee as to the cadence of his count. Pulling Mike up to his shaky feet, Ejiro shoves his opponent backward into Justice and Rule’s corner and brings the burly Judge back into the action. Pulling Mike a little more into the center of the ring, The Judge lifts Van Siclen up into position for a side suplex as Ejiro comes jogging forward and leaps into the air. Crashing down on top of Mike with an elbow drop, Ejiro aids The Judge’s momentum as Hearford slams him down to the canvas.

 

Stevens calls to the crowd, “What a double team maneuver by the tag team champions, they added a new wrinkle just for this tag match and now, The Judge is hooking him up!”

 

“I love when he does this,” reports Riley, “He’s going to stretch The Spectacle out with the ‘Held Without Bail’ and put these punks out of my misery!”

 

Pulling Van Siclen’s head back with his usual savage ferocity, William Hearford leans in and locks down with his stretch plum face lock as Van Siclen immediately starts to feel the awesome pressure of the hold. Tearing Van Siclen back and forth inside the lock, The Judge roars out for Mike to give it up as The Spectacular One refuses to give any ground whatsoever. But still with The Judge’s arms wrapped around his head and neck, MVS has no choice but to scream out under the pressure of the hold. But he doesn’t have to wait for long before The Judge simply pulls Van Siclen flat to the canvas and make a lateral press.

 

ONE!

 

TWOOOOOONOOOOOOO!

 

Sneering at the referee, The Judge pulls Van Siclen off the canvas and sends him into the air for a powerslam. But the lighter Van Siclen floats right over The Judge’s grip and lands behind the tag team champion and presses him into the ropes from behind. Close enough to the Catch-22 corner, Beezel reaches out and tags Van Siclen’s shoulder just before The Spectacle rolls The Judge backward into a roll up. But knowing that the tag was made, Van Siclen forgoes even attempting the pin fall and continues to roll backward until he has The Judge in position for a German Suplex and for a little extra added assistance from his partner.

 

POP!

 

WHAMMMMM!

 

“Super kick assisted GERMAN RELEASE SUPLEX!”

 

“No! You can’t lose now! Not to these guys! Kick out! KICK OUT!”

 

Scrambling right over as Mike rolls out of the way, Beezel hooks the far leg as the referee counts away!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEJIROMAKESTHESAVE!

 

Diving out of The Magnificent Seven’s corner, Ejiro crashes down on top of the masked man and breaks the cover. Compelled by the referee, Fasaki exits the ring as Beezel continues to go back to work on the former Hardcore Gamers Champion. Chopping across The Judge’s chest, Beezel continues to press his advantage. Sending The Judge into the ropes, Beezel sets his head early for a backdrop toss only to have Hearford put on the breaks and launch a kick strait at Number One’s face. But sometimes even the best laid plans of mice and men don’t go as planned.

 

“Beezel caught the leg! He suckered The Judge in for… DRAGON SCREW LEGWHIP!”

 

Savagely tearing Hearford to the canvas by his leg, Beezel looks out to the crowd immediately as he gets to his feet and slaps his hand against his knee to show the people what is in store for Justice when he gets back up to his feet. Running against the ropes at full speed as Hearford hobbles up to his feet, Beezel leaps high off The Judge’s knee and rings his bell with a shining wizard knee strait to the face! Knocking the Judge flat onto his back, Mr. B leaps on top of his opponent once more as the referee counts away…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKICKOUT!

 

Using all of his weight, The Judge forces himself off the canvas before the crucial count of three. Even Dousing the Fire will not prove to put the stubborn Hearford down for the loss, so Beezel must go out of his way to make this match end right here and now. Pulling The Judge up, Beezel hooks Hearford up into position for a powerbomb. Wrapping his arms around The Judge’s body, Beezel struggles to heave Hearford into the air and spike him into the mat. But The Judge manages to throw his legs wide and block the maneuver. Standing up strait, Hearford propels Beezel into the air and into the mat with a backdrop toss that smashes Beezel into the mat once more.

 

“What a smash mouth contest this has been,” says Stevens, “Both teams are trying to end this thing at every opportunity. They are throwing everything they can at the wall to see what will stick at the wall.”

 

Stumbling to his feet, The Judge calls Ejiro back into action as Justice and Rule go back to their double teaming ways without even bothering to make a tag. Together both men slam away at the rising Beezel with a number of heavy battering blows to the back and head. But they do not get a lot of time to do their damage before Mike Van Siclen roars into the ring to even the odds. Punching Ejiro across the face, MVS drives the smallest man in the ring down to the mat as Beezel throws a right into the breadbasket of The Judge to stop his attack for the moment. But on the other side of the action, Ejiro snatches Van Siclen by the tights and used his leverage to toss Van Siclen through the ropes and to the arena floor. Hopping up to his feet immediately, Ejiro grabs a hold of the top rope and slings himself right over the top rope with a slingshot body press that splatters MVS against the cold arena floor!

 

“PLANCHAAAAAAAAAA!”

 

“The pile up isn’t over yet!”

 

Knocking Hearford aside with a hard right hand to the face, Beezel locks on target as Ejiro Fasaki rises to his feet with a huge smile on his face over his success. Yelling at the crowd for a moment to shut their traps, Ejiro turns around to see the masked form of El Scorcho twisting and colliding with his face!

 

“TOPE CON HILOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Flying right over the top with a summersault, the masked leader of Catch-22 mashes Ejiro Fasaki flat against the floor as the crowd roars out in approval. But there is one last car that is going to add itself to the pileup and The Judge is ready to add to the collision course. But The Judge is not the kind of person to just launch into the stratosphere…

 

Or is he?

 

“The Judge is going up top! He’s going up top! It’s AIR JUDGE TIME!”

 

Climbing up to the top rope, Hearford steadies himself slowly to fall down onto the stunned mass of humanity laid out before him. Ready, waiting, and willing… okay, maybe not willing.

 

“Oh you have to be kidding me!” sighs Stevens.

 

Hopping down from the top rope to the apron, The Judge decides a leap from there would be better for all involved as he rushes down the apron and leaps off. Colliding with Beezel with an ax handle to the top of the mask, Hearford roars out at the populace as they basically spit on him for not going through with the leap of faith. Of course, Hearford could not care less and he calmly tosses Beezel back inside the ropes.

 

Riley merely explodes at the insult to the people, “See that great choice of attack? I can’t believe that the populace would insult him for using his obvious arm strength to his advantage!”

 

“They are jeering him because he was a wuss, Bobbie.”

 

“Pfft. Axehandles are extreme risk moves! Just those wicked cool armbars and stuff!”

 

“…”

 

Taking Beezel by the arm, The Judge heaves El Scorcho into the ropes only to have the quicker wrestler rebound immediately off the ropes with a flying body press that knocks Hearford strait to the mat. Rolling off Hearford before the referee can even count to one, Beezel quickly steps behind The Judge and cinches him up with a full nelson and looks to dump The Judge backward with a dragon suplex. But The Judge muscles free and tosses an elbow backward to free him from the hold. Grabbing Beezel by the wrist, The Judge sends Beezel across the ring with an Irish whip and follows up closely for a running shoulder in the corner. But the masked man uses the ropes to propel himself over the charge and twists over to take Hearford over with a sunset flip!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

NOOOO!

 

The Judge rolls backward right out of the pinning combination and hooks Beezel’s legs as he goes over. Immediately dragging Beezel back into the center of the ring, The Judge turns him over with a swift tearing motion and locks in deep with a Boston Crab! Screaming out in pain, Beezel struggles for the ropes as on the outside Ejiro latches onto Van Siclen’s legs to keep him from saving his partner.

 

“Beezel is in big trouble here! Judge has this locked on… OH MY! THE JUDGE JUST KNELT DOWN! HE’S TEARING BEEZEL IN HALF!”

 

TAP! TAP! TAP!

 

“GOD DAMN IT!” shouts Stevens into his headset, a little distraught himself at another loss for the unlucky stable, “Who can blame Beezel for tapping out to that, though? With all that pressure on the spine, Beezel had no choice in the matter, none at all.”

 

Releasing the hold immediately, the Judge stands tall and lifts his arms high into the air as the referee signals for the bell. Immediately scrambling to check on his partner, Van Siclen checks in close on the hurting Beezel as he grips his back in mad spasms of pain. The next sound he hears will do nothing for his mood.

 

“The winners of this contest, the World Tag Team Champions… JUSTICE AND RULE!”

[Guest Grand Slam]

“What a tag team encounter that was,” remarks Mark Stevens, “I don’t know if Justice and Rule were expecting such trouble with Catch-22 tonight but they sure got it.”

 

“Oh, I think The Magnificent Seven live for trouble… AND THEY WANT MORE RIGHT NOW!”

 

Surging forward onto the huddled bodies of Mike Van Siclen and Beezel, Justice and Rule slam into their opponents with a pair of hard forearms to the back of the head. Quickly cinching up the pair, The Judge rips Beezel up and down to the canvas with a hard Capital Punishment powerbomb just as Ejiro spikes Van Siclen into the mat with the Ejirocation piledriver. Stomping away again at again at their fallen foes, Justice and Rule look to send a message to anyone that wants a piece of them.

 

“What are these two thugs trying to pull,” questions Stevens.

 

“You idiot! Catch-22 wants to destroy The Magnificent Seven! It’s on their stationary for the love of Pete! Well, Justice and Rule seem to have taken a bit of a exception to that!”

 

“That’s just sick! Catch-22 wants to do it fair and square … wait a second! HERE COMES WILDCHILD!”

 

Racing down the aisle at 100 miles per hour, the Bahamas Bomber slides into the ring to save his teammates. Quickly ducking out of the way of a wicked lariat from The Judge, Wildchild pops up with a wicked superkick that knocks Hearford right out of his boots and out of the ring. But Ejiro manages to cut Wildchild off at the pass with a wicked elbow to the head that staggers the former circus performer back a step. Tossing Wildchild across the ring with a whip into a corner, Ejiro rushes forward only to have Wildchild suddenly leap right up all the way to the top rope and toss himself backward with a twisting body attack!

 

“WHAT A MOVE!”

 

Kicking Ejiro all the way out of the ring, Wildchild looks down at his foes as they regroup on the ramp way. Pointing and cursing at his foe, Ejiro Fasaki has to be held back by his partner as the old rivals plan a new sort of horror for each other. And with that, it’s time for a commercial break.

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[Guest Grand Slam]

The camera fades in on the standard interviewing area setup in the back of the Hilton Coliseum. The Ames, Iowa crowd pops for the sight of the Velvet Hammer, Frost standing next to interviewer Ben Hardy. Frost’s head is down and he strokes his chin contemplatively, waiting to go on. Hardy sees the red light on the camera and goes into boisterous, smiling mode.

 

“Welcome back to Storm!” Hardy crows. “This is Ben Hardy, and standing with me is the Iceman from Iceland, Frost.” Ben turns more toward Frost and looks up at him. “You and Longdogger Pete are coming off of a tough loss to the World Tag Team Champions, Justice and Rule, at 13th Hour. Where do you two go from here?”

 

Hardy pushes the mic closer to Frost’s face and he takes a deep breath before speaking. “That’s something LDP and I still need to talk out. I won’t say it wasn’t a ‘tough loss’ as you stated, but it won’t kill us and it doesn’t establish Judge and Ejiro as some sort of tag gods.” Frost looks directly into a camera and points a finger. “I learned that no one is unbeatable and you two will learn that eventually yourselves. Enjoy those belts while you have them, because if it’s not myself and LDP taking them off of you, it will Dace and Danny or Wild and Dangerous or maybe a team that isn’t even in the SWF yet. No winning streak lasts forever.”

 

Hardy pulls the mic back down to his mouth so he can speak. “You say that with knowledge and experience behind you, Frost. It’s no secret that you went into a deep depression after the title match loss to Tom Flesher at Battleground two months ago. What is preventing you from entering a similar state now.”

 

Frost nods his head at Ben, signally that that is indeed a fair question. “Hardy, you are a more observant man than most probably give you credit for. I do have that knowledge and experience behind me now. Longdogger Pete helped me to not only take the good with the bad, but realize that my real love was not winning, but wrestling. I love being in that squared circle and I love entertaining those fans and that is what is keeping me going now.” The arena crowd pops again for the adulation shown toward them.

 

“In a few moments,” Hardy continues, “you will be going out there to face off with recent JL bumpee Crow. However, do you feel a little upset about squaring off against the rookie and not being included in the ten man battle royal for a shot at the SWF World Title and Tom Flesher?”

 

“No. I don’t deserve to be in that match.” Frost simply states and the fans murmur stunned. “I have done nothing recently to show that I am worthy of a shot at the SWF World Title, no matter how badly I want that belt around my waist and I want to finally drive that last nail into Tom Flesher’s coffin…” Frost pauses for emphasis and then states, “but I will. I can’t say that I will win every match. I can’t say that I’m going to plow through Crow tonight. He has real potential and there will be no shame if I fall to him tonight. Yet, from this moment on, no one will be able to say that I’m not giving a hundred and ten percent out there in that ring. No one will be able to say that I’m not cramming people in the hurt locker and running punks over with the job train. I promise you that I will square off with Tom Flesher at Ground Zero and he better be wary of the Touch of Frost or he will face the consequences of an Early Winter!”

 

The crow pops again for Frost stalking off of camera and heading for the ring as the camera fades to black.

[Guest Grand Slam]

The camera fades in with a panning shot of the screaming Hilton Coliseum crowd. Not getting many big events, the fans have come out in droves for Storm with a plethora of signs, including:

 

Frost is Party!

 

I Back the Mak! Wait…That’s the Wrong Show isn’t It?

 

Dace Night Owes Me Five Bucks!

 

Tom Flesher IS a Douchebag!

 

The camera transitions to a shot of the smiling face of Mark Stevens. “Welcome back to Storm! Where the fall out of 13th Hour is being heavily felt!”

 

“And the fall out of your hair is heavily laying on the table.” Bobby Riley snidely quips.

 

Stevens deftly slides his right hand over to tip Bobby Riley’s cup of coffee. “Oops!” Mark says with fake surprise.

 

“GAH!” Riley moans. “You clumsy…” Bobby’s voice trails off as he bends down to examine the damage of the spilled coffee on his shoes. Stevens scoots the table back a few inches. Riley rears up to bonk his head on the underside of the table with a whack.

 

Mark gives a coy grin and continues. “The events of 13th Hour certainly affect our next two combatants. Crow made his SWF debut by losing to the retuning Stryke in a fatal five way match, but not before pinning Beezel and looking very strong in his debut. However, the road gets no easier for him as Crow must now face one of the most dominant grapplers in recent SWF history.”

 

Bobby Riley emerges from under the table rubbing his sore noggin. “I didn’t hit my head that hard, Mark. Frost hasn’t done anything since leaving the Magnificent 7. He gave up the ICTV Title, lost two matches to Tom Flesher for the World Title, went into a depressive funk that made him more worthless than before and his only friend was washed-up has-been Longdogger Pete who got his ass back in gear only to have that ass handed to him by Justice and Rule at 13th Hour.”

 

“Frost has had a hard road to travel lately,” Stevens admits “but his eye of the tiger is burning bright. It’s hard to say what the future holds for the LDP and Frost tag team, but I can almost guarantee you that Frost is more than ready to take another crack at gaining revenge on Tom Flesher.”

 

At that moment the arena is plunged into darkness. The windy howling of “Burn in Hell” by Dimmu Borgir plays to a murmuring audience before…

 

BOOM!

 

A wall of flame shoots up along the back of the stage area as the song picks up in musical intensity. A spotlight shines on the entrance curtain to already find Crow standing at the top of the entrance ramp with his arms out in a crucifix pose. Crow drops his arms as his theme slows down and heads to the ring with the creepy Dante Crane in tow.

 

“Now entering the arena,” Funyon booms from the ring “hailing from Anchorage, Alaska by way of Adelaide, Australia and tipping the scales at 231 pounds; he is accompanied by Dante Crane…THE ANTICHRIST SUPERSTARRRRRRRRRRRRR… CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!”

 

The crowd pops mildly for the recently bumped wrestler. Crow climbs the ring steps to enter the squared circle as Crane takes his usual post on the outside. Crow leans against the ropes and puffs away on his cigarette.

 

Riley: “This match is very simple, it’s all about strength versus speed.”

 

Stevens: “I would also add in ring smarts versus a knack to do what ever it takes to win.”

 

Riley: “I wouldn’t say that, Frost is so stupid he couldn’t spell douchetard if you gave him the douche.”

 

Stevens: “……You hit your head harder than you thought, didn’t you?”

 

Before Riley can answer, the fans roar with new power at the popping of silver fireworks from the rafters and the sounds of “Snowblind” by Black Sabbath on the loud speakers. A blue spotlight beams down on the curtain, catching the fake snow fluttering from above in it’s pale light. Frost strolls out from the back with his right fist aloft in the air and a cigar dangling from his lips.

 

Funyon fights to be heard over the yelling throng. “And his opponent, weighing 296 pounds and hailing from Reykjavik, Iceland; THE VELVET HAMMER… FRRRRRROOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSST!”

 

Stevens: “It’s interesting to note that both men involved here come to the ring smoking.”

 

Riley: “Well, Crow only smokes cigarettes. Frost is smoking a big, black cigar. Obviously Frost is trying to compensate for something, but I won’t say since this is a family show.”

 

Frost takes the apron steps over the strands to the ring and goes to grind his cigar out on the upper left ring post. Frost pauses and looks over at Crow, gesturing ‘you first.’ Crow takes one last drag on his cigarette and gives Frost a respectful nod. He stamps his cigarette out before dropping it to the floor below. Frost follows suit and referee Sexton Hardcastle quickly pats down both men and calls for the bell.

 

 

Riley: “As a reminder, this segment of SWF Storm is sponsored by The Truth, stop smoking or all babies will die.”

 

DING DING DING

 

Frost steps forward for a lockup, but Crow surprises him by making a diving tackle for the right knee. Frost is upended and lands with a splat on his back. The Antichristian Phenom scrambles to his feet as Frost rolls through his flip and back up.

 

Stevens: “Sound strategy by Crow in trying to take the big man off his feet, but it’s not looking to be as easy to do as he might have thought.”

 

Crow charges, hoping to still catch Frost off guard. However, the Iceman from Iceland calmly meets Crow with a rising knee to the jaw! The fans groan in sympathy as Crow turns and stumbles away holding his mouth. Frost takes a couple steps to catch up to him and cinches Crow in a half nelson. Frost tugs the man along as he skips out and plants his face into the mat!

 

Stevens: “Half nelson bulldog! There looks to be no drop off in Frost’s determination as there was after his last ppv lost.”

 

Riley: “Frost chokes in the big match more than Mike Tyson eating chicken wings. He’s just coming to terms, you get used to being a loser after awhile.”

 

Stevens: “I see that you did, Bobby.”

 

Frost pulls Crow with him as he stands and twists to be back to back with the man. Frost links arms and leans forward to get Crow’s feet off the mat. Frost spins in a circle…one…two…three…four…five times! He stops short and unties his arms to send Crow twirling across the ring like a top! Frost runs up to Crow’s fallen form and leaps with a twist to drop a meaty thigh across his throat. The crowd pops as he makes the cover.

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

Stevens: “Shoulder up! Frost is using sound strategy himself in this contest. He’s using his power, but keeping events at a fast pace so Crow doesn’t have time to recover and use his speed against him.”

 

Frost jerks Crow harshly up by the wrist and goes to whip him into the lower left corner. Crow gets his wits about him just enough to make the reverse and send Frost for the ride. The Icelanders takes the turnbuckles in the back. Crow charges with his shoulder out, but Frost lifts a big boot to catch him in the kisser! Crow stumbles rearward holding his mouth and Frost climbs backwards up the ropes to the second turnbuckle. He pops off with his elbow cocked and buries it into the crown of Crow’s skull! Crow looks to timber to the canvas, but Frost spins him around by a hand on his shoulder. Frost readjusts to hook the right shoulder with a half nelson and bars his other arm across the man’s throat. Frost uses his prodigious strength to effortlessly lift Crow off the turf and rides his body to the mat!

 

Stevens: “Cobra clutch slam! Frost is going for another cover and this could be it already!”

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

TH-

 

Riley: “Shoulder up! Frost is throwing everything but the kitchen sink at Crow in the early going and he’s not staying down.”

 

Stevens: “This is looking to be a message match. Frost wants the world to know that he’s focused and ready to climb back to the top of the SWF.”

 

Frost pulls Crow up by the sides of his head and into a front facelock. He takes a handful of tights and tucks his head under Crow’s near shoulder. Frost hoists him and drapes him over the top rope.

 

Stevens: “Slingshot suple…NO! BLOCKED!”

 

Crow throws all of his weight back to ground himself and slides to the apron!

 

Riley: “You have to snap that suplex off with a bounce from the ropes, not lay them up there like a lazy slob, even if you are one.”

 

Crow tweaks his position on the apron and reaches over the cords with his free arm to take hold of Frost’s tights. The fans pop and Dante Crane roots his charge on as all sense what is coming.

 

Stevens: “NO! He can’t be thinking of doing what I think he is!”

 

Riley: “Crow needed a momentum shifter, but this will be a momentum stopper!”

 

Frost wiggles and fights to take control, but Crow digs deep for all the power he can muster and uses his leverage of being on the other side of the ropes to get the massive grappler barely off his feet. Crow falls back with Frost’s body gliding across the ropes more than being lifted over them. Crow manages to flip Frost out flat and pushes off the apron. The move might not be pretty, but the pain quotient is high as both men splat to the outside with a wet thud!

 

Stevens: “UNBELIEVABLE! Crow suplexed Frost from the apron to the floor! Only a man as sick and twisted as the Antichrist Superstar would even dare to attempt such a dangerous move!”

 

The crowd roars in appreciation for the big time spot. Sexton Hardcastle yells at Dante Crane to keep his post and stay away from the two men. Crane obediently stays where he is and Hardcastle starts a double countout. (ONE)

 

Riley: “And it’s just the move he needed. (TWO) Frost was out classing the rookie and Crow does a smart thing by trying to bring this battle a hardcore edge.” (THREE)

 

Both men writhe on the floor. Crow rolls off of Frost and to his knees. (FOUR) Crow shakes his head and puts a hand on the apron to force himself up. (FIVE)

 

Riley: “Look how quickly Crow is recovering. He took almost as much impact as Frost, but Crow has built up a tolerance to such hard hits. (SIX) You do that crazy junk to your body night after night and eventually it learns how to absorb the pain and keep pressing on. Frost is a nancy boy.” (SEVEN)

 

Crow works his way wobbly to his feet and pushes off the ring edge to stumble into the guardrail. (EIGHT) Crane moves to tend to his man, but Crow shakes him off and rushes under the bottom rope just as Sexton hits nine. The ref waves the count off and Crow rolls back to the floor.

 

Stevens: “Crow breaks the count, but returns to the floor to get the still unconscious Frost. You know, Bobby, Frost was a former Hardcore Champion, he’s not as unaccustomed to Crow’s hardcore style as you might think.”

 

Riley: “He took the belt off of Ced Ordonez and dropped it to Ash Ketchum. Yeah, Frost is a hardcore legend alright.”

 

Hardcastle barks at Crow to get back into the ring. Crow looks up at the referee and shakes his head ‘no.’ Sexton yells down the order to return to the ring again and is forced to start another count out. (ONE) Crow grabs Frost’s ankles and drags him down the length of the outside area. (TWO) Crow turns Frost over and drapes his right leg over the stairs at the upper right ring corner. Frost’s face is buried in the ground while his knee is awkwardly balanced on the steel steps. (THREE) Crow slips under the bottom rope to break the ring out count and swiftly climbs the strands to the top turnbuckle.

 

Stevens: “Good lord, what is Crow planning here? He’s risking not only disqualification but the end of Frost’s career.”

 

Riley: “That would be horrible, I would hate to see a DQ in this match.”

 

The screams of the audience grows as Crow sets himself firm on the top rope and holds his arms out in the crucifix position. Crow eyes Frost’s stretched out leg below him and leaps off! Crow twists to get his body away from the ring and into a sitting position. His aim is true in nailing a leg drop to Frost’s unprotected knee!

 

CRACK!

 

Stevens: “What an unbelievably sick move from the Antichristian Phenomenon! You can literally hear the floating joint of the knee snapping and the cartilage tearing!”

 

Riley: “I was favoring Crow a bit in this match simply because he WASN’T Frost, but I say he’s improved himself in my eyes tenfold with that move!”

 

The fans moan and cringe at the hellacious spot! Frost is jarred back to life from the pain shooting in his leg and rolls over to his back. He holds his leg in his hands, his face a mask of torment. Sexton Hardcastle threatens disqualification, as Stevens warned. Crow ignores the ref and rips Frost to his feet by the sides of his head. Crow takes a step back and kicks the knee to test the damage done. Frost wails like a banshee and slumps down with one arm on the apron. Crow goes under the ropes to reenter the squared circle and reaches out to pull Frost in by the head.

 

Stevens: “Frost was in command early, but Crow hung on and weathered the storm to return to his sound idea of attacking the leg.”

 

Riley: “Crow is not breaking from his basic wrestling strategy and wrestling as hardcore as he can in this standard singles match. I’m sure if he threatened Hardcastle with a suplex to the outside, he could get away with more.”

 

Crow brings Frost to his aching feet with both arms wrapped around his head. Frost tries to balance his near 300 pounds on one leg, while his right leg floats a few inches off the mat. Crow takes Frost by the wrist and whips him into the ropes. Frost trips across the turf. Crow plants himself to receive his foe as he springs off the ropes. Crow studies the charging big man through narrowed eyes and pivots on his back leg ninety degrees to slam the sole of his left boot into that tender knee! Frost yells and his body contorts into a sick human pretzel as he goes down, his right leg pinned under his body. Crow drops to his knees and untangles Frost to make the cover.

 

Stevens: “Das Wunder Kick to the knee! The cover!”

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

Stevens: “Frost uses his upper body strength to power out of that pin.”

 

Riley: “But no kick from the leg. That right leg and knee has been a target of many a wrestler and is definitely Frost’s Achilles heel.”

 

Stevens: “His knee is his heel? I’m going to get you a catscan.”

 

Riley: “A catscan? Is it Christmas already?”

 

Crow stands with the left leg in hand. He folds it behind his own leg and on top of Frost’s bad right one to form a figure four. Crow throws his weight back hard to hit the mat for a little extra oomph and grabs the straight leg while cinching the bent leg with his foot over the ankle.

 

Stevens: “Crow has locked in the figure four leglock! If Frost doesn’t get out of this one soon, it will all be over.”

 

Riley: “Yeah, but you thought the Cobra clutch slam was going to finish the match. I have learned to never count Frost out until you hear that final bell. He likes to piss me off that way.”

 

Crow wrenches the leg as he squeezes the submission move for all it’s worth. Frost screams as the pain forces him to flop flat to the canvas. Sexton counts the shoulders down.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE-

 

Frost flings his torso up and uses his arms to prop himself up. Crow cinches the move as tight as he can and slams back twice more for added pressure on the straight leg. Frost falls with his shoulders down again.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE-

 

Frost sees the hand ready to come down and forces himself back into a sitting position.

 

Stevens: “Lying flat takes off a little pressure, but not much and the pain could cost Frost to black out.”

 

Riley: “Screw blacking out! If Frost is the tough, upright guy he says he is he should submit to the superior grappler. It’s just too bad that Tom Flesher isn’t in this match, but I’m sure if he said ‘yes, I submit to Tom Flesher’ Sexton would count it.”

 

The fans cheer, most rooting for Frost based on him not only being the bigger name in the SWF, but also uncharacteristically finding himself to be the current underdog in the match. Frost lets the cheering fill his ears and give him inspiration. The look on his face shifts from one of pain to one of determination and resolution. Crow twists the ankle to work the hold more, but to no avail. One can see Frost’s biceps bulging and pecs strain as he pushes off the mat and labors to reverse the hold!

 

Stevens: “Frost is using power to turn the figure four over! If he does it, Crow will also be in pain and be forced to break the hold!”

 

Riley: “I wouldn’t be sure of that. If there’s one thing I can say about Crow from the little I’ve seen of him, it’s that he likes pain.”

 

The crowd pops insanely at the sight of Frost rolling the entwined bodies over! Crow grunts, but no more than that as the harm of the hold is now split between them. The usually reserved Dante Crane shows a little life by pounding the mat and calling encouragement to Crow to flip the move back over.

 

Stevens: “If I was Crow, I would break the move and move onto something else to work that leg. I don’t think he has the power to roll Frost back over.”

 

Riley: “But I think he has the leverage and the control of the move. It takes more than raw strength to be a great wrestler, Stevens.”

 

Crow pushes himself up by his arms as Frost is doing the same on his end in an attempt to work the hold from his side. With their legs now hovering over the mat, the torque exerted on the legs is nil and Crow is able to shove off the canvas with all he has to roll the move back over! However, Frost felt the turn coming and goes with the motion to send the men into the ropes and break the figure four for good!

 

Stevens: “The referee is helping the two men to untie themselves. Frost pulls himself upright by the ropes, but he’s not putting any weight at all on that leg.”

 

Riley: “I bet you Frost is dreading those extra trips to the buffet now. He’s got enough upper body weight to snap that leg like a twig after the work Crow has done on it.”

 

Frost hops in place and attempts to put the leg down. It grazes the mat and his face contorts painfully. Crow blows past Hardcastle with his right hand out and distorted into a monstrous claw. A camera catches a glint off of Crow’s garishly long fingernails right before they bury into the soft flesh just below Frost’s trunks! Frost howls and tries to skip away from Crow on the one leg, but the claw hold is sunk in tight and Frost topples over to his back after hopping backwards a few steps. Crow crawls on top of Frost to pin his ankle to the mat with his knees and digs in with his right hand!

 

Stevens: “A very unique and never before seen knee claw by Crow! With those Vampire like nails, the Antichrist Superstar can break the skin and rip flesh even through the Velvet Hammer’s tights.”

 

Riley: “A shame, Frost just had those pants dry cleaned.”

 

Half the fans continue to cheer Frost on for the comeback, while the other half squeamishly groan at the sight of Crow’s fingers disappearing farther and farther into Frost’s knee. Small rivulets of blood can be seen oozing out of the ripped fabric as the camera zooms in for a closer look. Frost thrashes on the mat, trying in vain to reach the opposite ropes. Frost steals one lucid moment in the raging fire of pain in his brain and makes the snap decision to bring his other leg over for a kick to the jaw! Focused on the brilliant destruction of the knee, Crow misses the foot flying for his face and is caught off guard! He crashes to the mat, momentarily out and releases his hold. Frost scoots across the mat on his rear, his tights torn and blood seeping out!

 

Stevens: “Frost breaks the knee claw with a kick to the face. He has to try to capitalize now while Crow is stunned.”

 

Frost limps over to Crow, who is starting his way up. Frost bends over to take Crow by the sides of his head, but a twinge of pain shoots through his leg. Crow senses the pain and grabs Frost around the calves. With a fierce yank, Frost bashes the mat and Crow stands while holding both legs. He deftly steps into Frost and crosses the man’s legs over his own. He locks the feet at the ankles and holds them tight with his hands as he turns Frost over on his face.

 

Stevens: “Crow has the sharpshooter locked in! This is his favorite submission hold and the match has been brilliantly built to this point.”

 

Riley: “I say Frost has a very narrow window of time to escape before he will be forced to give up.”

 

Frost bellows as he pushes himself up to lift his body off the mat and take some of the pressure off his legs.

 

Stevens: “It’s rarely used by the Velvet Hammer, but the sharpshooter is in his repertoire and he should know how to counter it.”

 

Frost grits his teeth to fight down the pain and props himself up by one massive arm. Frost curls his body while reaching out with his long left arm to snag Crow by the ankle! Frost jerks as he unwraps his body and the laws of physics dictate that Crow is ripped off his feet! Crow falls forward, losing his grip on the sharpshooter and splats face first to the mat! The fans pop anew for Frost, who drags himself out from under Crow and claws his way toward the lower left corner.

 

Stevens: “He broke the sharpshooter with an impressive counter that only a man of his strength and ring prowess could pull off.”

 

Riley: “And Frost promptly runs away to lick his wounds.”

 

Crow stands; holding his mouth with daggers in his eyes. He turns to find Frost fighting to stand with aide from the ropes and charges to ram a forearm into the back of his neck. Crow follows with a kick to the back of the leg and Frost arches his back, screaming. Crow grapevines the near leg and hooks the arm to legsweep Frost forward into the turnbuckles. His head ricochets off, his eyes glassy. Crow squeaks past Frost to climb the ropes and sits down on the top turnbuckle while he snags a front facelock.

 

Stevens: “Crow is going for the Murderous DDT! This would surely gain the victory.”

 

Riley: “I don’t like it! Crow is going away from the focal point of the match. Stick to the leg!”

 

Crow stands and steadies himself. However, Frost isn’t quite as shaken as Crow thought and climbs the turnbuckles with him to a pop from the fans! Crow is knocked off balanced by Frost’s climbing to meet him and loses his hold on the facelock. Frost wiggles out and holds the left arm out to the side as he undoes the facelock. Frost twists his body to work his right arm around and jackhammers his balled up fist smack into the ribcage!

 

Stevens: “Touch of Frost on the top rope! That’s amazing! Could this be leading to…TOM FLESHER IS A DOUCHEBAG?!”

 

Riley: “NO! NO! NO!”

 

Frost takes the paralyzed Crow in a facelock and tucks his head under his armpit while grabbing a handful of tights. Frost doesn’t bounce into the ropes for momentum, in fear of hurting his injured leg and instead uses all of his upper body strength to whip Crow off! In a mirror of the spot from earlier, Frost is now in control as Crow’s body is flipped out flat! The crowd holds their collective breaths, as the two seem to freeze in mid-air! The ring shakes from the colossal…

 

CRASH!

 

Stevens: “SUPERPLEX! Frost opts for the superplex, but can he make the cover!”

 

The pair bounces twice before settling down! Frost seizes the moment and quickly dives on top of Crow, blocking out his own pain to make the cover and hook the leg!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Crow squirms under the prodigious bulk! He’s going to kick out!

 

THREE!

 

NO! Crow throws Frost off just as Sexton’s palm hits the mat!

 

DING DING DING

 

Stevens: “FROST DID IT! He stole a win from Crow, bad leg and all.”

 

Riley: “Stole is the right word! I’d launch an investigation into Hardcastle’s bank account. See if he’s had any strange foreign deposits recently.”

 

The crow erupts with cheering for the triumphant main event face. Dante Crane hops into the ring and tends to his fallen man. Hardcastle goes to lift Frost’s hand in victory, but he’s already swung his legs over the lip of the apron and glided to the floor. Frost hits his feet, then collapses.

 

Stevens: “A hard fought battle by both men, but Frost as the more experienced wrestler just got things to roll his way long enough to get the win. You shouldn’t be so bitter, Bobby, you even said that Crow should have kept on the leg and not go for a high risk maneuver.”

 

Riley: “I…I…don’t remember saying that. Must have been the bump on the head.”

 

Dante Crane slowly brings Crow around. Frost is seen working his way up on the floor, gingerly putting weight on his leg as the scene fades to break.

[Guest Grand Slam]

The Smarktron crackles and fizzles, and the words "Earlier Tonight" flicker up, and we are once more treated to a view of the backstage area. It doesn't turn out to be Ben Hardy and Gus however, but one of the fixed cameras that monitors things. Currently it's focused on a single door, one with the name "Crow" emblazoned across it in kick-ass gothic lettering. Voices come from inside, faintly.

 

"I don't think you should've brought her, Markus..."

 

"Don't worry about it, Dante...and guard her with your goddamn life."

 

Suddenly the door is pulled open, and the Antichristian Phenomonon steps out, looks back in the room, and closes the door before stalking off down the hallway with intent!

 

The camera abruptly switches to elsewhere - another fixed camera of course - and we're shown something much more impressive than Crow. The seven-foot Hell Machine, hair tied back in a ponytail, ominous in his white trenchcoat, is leaning over and getting a cup of water from a water cooler. The camera shifts it's angle slightly as the giant pulls his cup from the cooler...

 

...to reveal Crow leaning against the far wall, smoking a cigarette. Exhaling smoke, the gothic one finally speaks.

 

"It's been a while, Terrence."

 

Janus' red eyes, clear to the camera, travel sideways as the giant noncommitally straightens up and slugs back his cup of water like it's a shot of vodka. He doesn't turn around, and this prompts Crow to speak again.

 

"What's the matter, Terrence? No words for your old buddy Markus?"

 

The giant slowly turned around, the sound of crumplying polystyrene filling the quiet air as the poor cup meets an unfortunate fate in Janus' right hand. The giant narrows his eyes slightly.

 

"That isn't my name....and I am no 'buddy' of yours, Crow."

 

The Antichrist Superstar takes another drag of his cigarette and exhales in the direction of Janus' face, unimpressed by the giant's intimidating stare.

 

"You forget Sydney? We fucking raised hell together, mate!"

 

"Living in the past is your weakness, Crow. I have more important concerns than you tonight."

 

The 'gothic avian' snorted.

 

"The ten man? Pfft. I'm a bigger worry than that."

 

The giant smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. It was a slight curve of the lips, a baring of the teeth. As usual, Crow wasn't intimidated as Janus spoke.

 

"I'd think Frost is a bigger worry to you, Markus. If you beat him...I may consider you worth my time."

 

"Dare I remind you, Terrence, that you LOST to Frost?"

 

Janus looked as if he was going to take Crow apart limb from limb. Exhaling from his recent drag, the Antichrist Superstar picks a cigarette from his pack and offers it to the Hell Machine.

 

"Smoke?"

 

The resounding smack of Janus slapping Crow's hand aside echoed through the hallway. The giant simply glowered as Crow frowned and shook his hand to get the numbness out, crouching to pick up the cigarette.

 

"Watch it, man! These are good..."

 

The 'gothic avian' trailed off as Janus' boot came down on the cigarette he was reaching for, crushing it into unrecognisability. Before the Antichrist Superstar could respond, Janus lifted him up bodily and shoved Crow against the wall, lifting his fist. The smaller man simply smiled at the incredibly pissed off look on Janus' face.

 

"If you INSIST on calling me by that name and reminding me of such matches, I may take matters into my own hands to stop your annoyances..."

 

Rather than hammer the bird with his huge right hand, Janus let go and turned away, storming off down the hallway. Crow adjusted his shirt, dusting it off before flicking out a second cigarette and lighting it up. Taking a drag, his eyes seem to glimmer orange.

 

"Oh, Terrence, I'm -much- more than an annoyance."

 

And we fade to black...

[Guest Grand Slam]

“...And we’re back!” exclaims Mark Stevens. The camera shows the ring, and there already a number of people in its confines, including Renegade, Wildchild, Kibagami, CIA, Sean Atlas, and Taylor Nicholas Thompson. Currently coming down the ring, making a surprise return to the SWF, is none other than FTW alumni, Xero!

 

“We didn’t expect to have another returning superstar, although it’s great to see Xero back in active competition!”

 

“No it isn’t,” replies Riley. “I hate Xero.”

 

“I won’t ask,” remarks Stevens, knowing that such questions are futile. For example, asking him a koan, such as one-hand clapping, or a tree falling in the forest. “But it’s great to see our rosters swelling with old and new talent.”

 

“Yeah,” adds Bobby, “Crow is pretty cool for a dead guy.”

 

“Anyway,” says Stevens, trying to take commentative control, “Clusterfuck is coming a little early this time... We’ve got a ten-man over the top battle royal, and get this: the winner will receive a title shot against Tom Flesher! This is a big opportunity for people from all over the card to challenge Flesher, who made his fifth defense at 13th hour, tying Edwin MacPhisto’s record! I wonder if anyone can stop him.”

 

“Well, something’s gotta give. With a whole new group of competitors, our World Champ is going to have to change his game a bit.”

 

As Xero climbs into the ring, and tries to find some personal space among the growing sea of wrestlers who all want to be the sole survivor, an ominous yet somewhat peppy beat starts to play. Red strobe lights start going off from the sides of the entry ramp, and two figures start walking down the ring. The music is new and unfamiliar, “Go To Hell” by KMFDM, but the people that enter to it are not by any means.

 

“Introducing next,” booms Funyon, “JANUUUUSSSS.... and THOOOOOOTH!”

 

“Ugh, do you smell that?” mocks Stevens. “These guys are lower than trash. Janus I can understand, but Thoth turned on his own brother last Sunday. I don’t care about motivations, or blood, or whatever crap he was spewing. Your family is your family, and nothing will change that!”

 

“What if they molest you?” asks Riley.

 

“What in... what... what does that have to do with anything at all?” asks a flabbergasted Stevens. Oh well, Riley can’t help it. He talks what he thinks.

 

“It’s a hypothetical question, but it’s legitimate. I mean, where do you get your ideas?”

 

He gets them from his brain.

 

“I get them from my brain,” replies Riley. Thoth and Janus enter the ring, clearing a small space for themselves. Kibagami avoids eye contact. If there’s some conflict, they are doing a decent job of trying to hide it. Of course, the tension is definitely there. Everyone knows it.

 

“And finally,” announces Funyon, as Rock Superstar kicks up, “The NEW... Smartmarks Wrestling Federation United States Champion... MAAAK FRANCIS!”

 

“Mak picked up a big win last Sunday over Michael Craven, breaking the long-reigning champ’s streak and taking his title. You know,” Stevens expounds, “This kid is only 19. That’s a hell of an age to make so many accomplishments. The only thing holding this kid back from the World Title is experience and age, and I assure you that will change as time goes on. Every day this guy is getting better. He really does deserve the moniker of ‘Franchise.’”

 

“Hell, at that rate, he deserves a blowjob.” Perhaps after that statement, one could say Riley followed that statement with “...”, because it really looks like he was going to say something. But he doesn’t. It is for the best.

 

Mak Francis stands on the apron, just outside the battlefront, planning his entrance carefully. Wrestlers shuffle for position, trying to get as close to the center as possible without getting surrounded. Even Thoth and Janus, the only discernible alliance in this matchup, have split up, taking into their fists individual destinies.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The bell rings, and the ring explodes into an orgy of focused attack! In a frenzy, people flail wildly, not paying much attention to who or what they are hitting. Wildchild uses his agility to weave through the crowds and avoid conflicts, preferring to let others do his work. Renegade brawls with a smile, his fists blasting to the left and right. CIa shouts a war cry, and then lowers his head, battering ramming TNT into the corner and laying into him with shoulders to the gut, knocking more air out of his lungs with each blow, until TNT stops it cold with a double axhandle. He tries to follow up, but his body gives out, and he finds himself leaning up against the corner, catching his breath. CIA gets pulled away by Janus, who uses his overbearing arms to lay waste to the Carnival. Thompson decides to wait it out in the corner and save his strength.

 

“Good play by TNT, a former World champion. He’s learned patience throughout his career here, and in a match like this where you only get one chance, it pays to think things through.”

 

On the opposite side of the ring, Sean Atlas has cornered Xero and is trying to subdue him. Xero tries to cover up in the corner, but Atlas goes low, backing up first to give himself room, and dropkicks Xero’s leg. He goes down like a sack, almost curled up in a ball. “Xero’s in a pinch here,” Stevens can be heard to say, as Atlas tries to live up to his namesake, and pick Xero up off the mat. The FTW man, showing resilience, goes flat against the mat, making efforts to lift him futile. Angered, Atlas lays in the boots. Xero’s body quivers with each smash, but at least he is safe for now. His kidneys may be smashed, his liver crushed, his ribs hurt if this keeps up for an extended time... but he’s safe.

 

Thoth and Mak Francis are having a battle of their own, trading blows back and forth, daring each other to take this next shot. Like a game, with one rule: first man to reel, or go down, loses. And the punishment would inevitably be removal from the match. Eager to get back into the swing of things in the first match back, Thoth’s punches carry additional fervor. But Mak Francis is buoyed by his new championship status, and desires to fight back. Each stinging blow across his face is a reminder of how much he likes being a wrestler, in this ring, and what he will do to stay a wrestler. He rears back after a blast to the cheek, and gives Thoth one. Thoth returns the favor, and waits for Mak to fire one back... but instead, the wily grappler does for a double leg takedown, swiping the Balancer off his feet! The back of Thoth’s head collides with the canvas, knocking him loopy for a bit. Mak gets on top of him, and starts wailing away on his unprotected face with right hands!

 

“Whatta takedown! So much action in the ring, it’s hard to call! People are just warming up, wearing each other down with some basic brawling offense. What you’re going to see here is not a technical contest, but a crash course in tactics and strategy,” says Stevens, his opinion sharpened by his expertise in battle royales, as a Clusterfuck winner in his own right.

 

“If I were in there, I wouldn’t be pussyfooting around,” replies Riley, snootily. “I mean, all you have to do is eliminate everyone first! So just go, and try to sneak up on them, I mean, they’re all distracted, and just up and over with them!”

 

“In reality, Bobby, it’s not that easy. Everyone else wants to do that too, so you have to get deeper, and find someplace where you can avoid being hit, while still winning. Everybody has to find their own way to win; a strategy that will work for a big man won’t work for a cruiserweight.”

 

Indeed, from behind, as Atlas works the boots, Nathaniel Kibagami comes from behind with a powerful forearm to the back, that sends Atlas chest first into the ropes! He hangs onto them, his body disoriented and his back throbbing, as Kibagami starts trying to heave him over the top rope. Atlas fights, but Kibagami keeps laying in the stiff forearms, and Atlas gives away, and flies over the top to land... on the apron. Kibagami starts trying to kick him off, but Xero off all people, from a prone position, grabs his leg for some unknown reason.

 

“If a wrestler goes over the top rope but lands on the apron, it’s still considered an elimination if another wrestler can push him onto the outside before he can get back into the ring,” says Stevens at a very convenient time.”

 

Kibagami looks down with disdain at Xero, who is holding onto his leg. Kibagami steps on his head hard, and he releases his grip. Atlas shakes it off and gets to his feet. Kibagami, seeing a perfect opportunity, goes for a dropkick through the ropes, but Atlas holds on to the top rope, and uses the leverage to dodge to the side! Kibagami lands face first, and Atlas steps through the ropes and legally back into the ring.

 

Meanwhile, Renegade has his eyes on Wildchild, and is chasing him around the human maze of the ring. Renegade almost catches him at several points, but Wildchild just manages to pull away! Actually, Wildchild is goading him on, leading him through the ring in an effort to wear him down or force him to make a mistake. Wildchild cannot go toe to toe with many of the people in the ring, and even if he could, it would be a better use of his abilities to fool them into making a mistake, then come out on the probable losing end of a brawl. Wildchild looks behind at his pursuer, and grins with gleaming white teeth. His motion is stopped suddenly, as he bumps into an obstruction. He looks forward, and his smile fades, for he has just bumped into the chest of Janus! Renegade backs off a bit, momentarily paralyzed by the big man’s gaze. He extends a hand, and firmly clasps it around the Creole man’s neck! Lifting him overhead, even higher than the top rope, he heaves him over... but WIldchild grabs the top rope with a leg, hooking around it... and somehow, managing to hang upside down, and stay alive in the match!

 

“What a time to have an acrobatics background! Wildchild is going to be a very hard man to eliminate in this contest!” says Stevens.

 

“You know what else you can do with an acrobatics background?” adds Riley. Before Stevens can reply, he finishes, “...join the circus!”

 

Mak is trying to press his advantage over Thoth, looking for a cross arm-breaker. The Balancer tries to lift his arm, trying to keep it from being hyperextended. Mak has the leverage, and not to mention Thoth has a mean headache. Moving swiftly, Mak pulls back, but Thoth rolls into the motion, and he is now on top of The Franchise! He smiles evilly as he plows his fist into Mak’s face again and again and again. He focuses with glee on his target, his pupils dilating.

 

Taylor Nicholas Thompson, from his corner, assesses the situation. Two and a half minutes in, and no eliminations yet. He looks across the ring. Atlas, Kibagami, and Xero... Wildchild, Renegade, and Janus... CIA in front of him... that could be an easy target. But TNT takes a gamble and approaches an encounter a few more steps away. Thoth is so focused on his target he doesn’t see TNT come up from behind, grab a handful of hair, and a handful of tights, and run him towards the ropes, trying to dump him over the top. Thoth holds on for dear life, kicking and pumping his legs, as an official looks on, making sure both feet do not touch. One does... but Thoth uses it to propel himself onto the apron, where he rolls into the ring. TNT has his back turned... mistake, as Thoth takes Thompson to the mat with a chop block!

 

“This is a seesaw match, with no one getting any sort of advantage! Everyone keeps interfering, trying to score the quick elimination. I remember in the Clusterfuck, the easiest way to eliminate someone was to toss them while they were dealing with someone else. However, if you do that, you’re leaving yourself open to attack. It’s a big gamble.

 

Atlas locks up with Kibagami near the ropes while Xero gets his wits back with him. He grabs him close, and hoists him for a ring shaking belly to belly! The other wrestlers in the ring stop for a moment as the vibrations throw them off their game. Pleased with himself, he gets up and pulls Kibagami with him, ready to finish the job. But in a burst of energy, Xero is up! In a house of fire, he lunges at Sean Atlas, brandishing a clothesline that could surely score a decisive victory!

 

Atlas steps to the side, grabs Xero’s shoulder, and chucks him hard over the top rope. His hip brushes the apron as he lands in a heap outside the ring.

 

***

Elimination - Xero

Eliminated By - Sean Atlas

Eliminated - None

Left: Renegade, Wildchild, Sean Atlas, Nathan Kibagami, Thoth, Janus, TNT, CIA, Mak Francis

***

 

“And there’s out first elimination! Xero is out. A valiant show by a returning superstar...” says Riley, in ode to the fallen wrestler, “But in the end his reputation to bite him in the ass.”

 

Stevens starts to object, but there are some truths that cannot be denied or objectified.

 

Back in the ring, the camera cuts over to Renegade and Janus. Wildchild is keeping out of most of the conflict, using his speed to compensate for his strength. Janus is charging at Renegade, who is trying to dodge to the side. Without the entire ring to move, Renegade is basically moving in a straight line through a path. He can’t afford to bump into others, who might take offense and chuck him overboard. But he can’t go toe to toe with Janus... can he?

 

“What a desperate charge by Renegade! He’s got a lot of heart and a lot of guts, to charge at such a monster.”

 

“Yeah,” adds Riley, he’s got so much heart it’s a heart condition.” Renegade throws all of his 260 pounds at Janus... but it’s no good. Janus gets knocked back into the ropes, and charges back, throwing his chest into Renegade, who falls down. He tries to get back up, but Janus clotheslines him... up... and over! Renegade grabs frantically for rope... and grabs it. The bottom rope, at any rate. And his feet are already on the ground.

 

***

Elimination - Renegade

Eliminated By - Janus

Eliminated - None

Left: Wildchild, Sean Atlas, Nathan Kibagami, Thoth, Janus, TNT, CIA, Mak Francis

***

 

“And then there were eight.”

 

Mak Francis gets off the ground, feeling the sting of a string of punches to the face. Looking over his shoulder, he sees Thoth and TNT trading dominance on the mat near the center of the ring. His vision is a bit blurry from the blows to his cheeks, dangerously close to fracturing his orbital bone, but he’s okay, and he’s looking for more possible eliminations. Wildchild is hanging in there, perched on the top turnbuckle. He has a great view of the action. He makes eye contact with the Franchise, and in a muscle twitching moment, Mak Francis charges the turnbuckle, leaping for a dropkick that would surely put WIldchild out of the match!

 

Wildchild looks down, and sneers.

 

“You’re gonna have to do betta’ dan ‘dat.”

 

He leaps up and over Mak Francis, doing a flip, and landing perfectly behind Mak! He charges into the corner, as Mak as getting up and corners him, delivering repeated elbows to his already sore face, leaving the Franchise stunned and dazed in the corner. Wildchild lifts Francis up to the top turnbuckle in a seated position. The crowd starts to buzz as Wildchild warms up for a move that would surely eliminate Franchise, but Mak opens his eyes suddenly! Wildchild is taken aback as Francis displays some acrobatics of his own, flipping over Wildchild and Sunset Flipping him onto his back. If this were a regular match, that could be the pinfall, but as it stands, the pin is mostly useless. Mak extricates himself from the situation and starts trying to eliminate Wildchild, taking him to the ropes and trying to push him over.

 

Kibagami is brawling with Sean Atlas as they go from pillar to post, traveling to each of the four corners, beating the hell out of each other. Atlas throws a hard lariat midway between two corners near the ropes, but the Slaughterer ducks, and sneaks a quick facelock as Atlas turns around. A quick snap and a suplex later, Atlas is counting the lights up in the rafters. He gets to eleven or so before he’s pulled back up and beaten more. Just as Kibagami is about to throw another blow, Thoth bumps into him from behind as he tangles with TNT. They turn towards each other.

 

“Uh oh, here we go!” shouts Stevens, and the crowd picks up on it. But before they can battle with each other, Thompson and Atlas pull them away from each other and deliver kicks to the gut in stereo. The crowd deflates.

 

CIA is the only man left who hasn’t had a whole lot of crap beaten out of him. He tries to stay out of other people’s lines of sight, and by doing so, stay out of mind. So far, everyone has already found conflict, and doesn’t bother with him. Janus is eliminating Renegade, and once he is satisfied with that, he turns around and looks for someone who he can destroy. His eyes meet CIA’s.

 

The Carnie man runs.

 

Towards Janus.

 

“What in the hell is that idiot thinking?” shouts Riley. “He can’t take on someone the size of Janus all by himself head on like that!”

 

CIA collides with Janus, who doesn’t budge. CIA looks up at Janus, who grins and extends his hands down towards his aggressor to choke and hurt and give pain. CIA thinks as quickly as he can, and ducks under Janus’s legs, rolling through and springing up onto the turnbuckle. He uses his own momentum to spring off, out and off into a cross-body. Janus tries to catch, but he can’t support the weight, and he goes down, CIA crashing on top of him. He extricates himself before Janus can wrap his hands around him and keep him dangerously close. He turns around, and drops a leg across the barreled chest before him.

 

And meanwhile once again, TNT and Thoth are fighting. The Balancer, with a renewed vigor as a result of being held back from his rival, floors TNT with a vicious right that catches him in the nose. He pulls him up by the hair and rams his head under his armpit. Heaving back, he throws TNT overhead and down into the mat with a Northern Lights Suplex. Thoth relaxes, falling down onto his back, and then kippuping up. He sees Sean Atlas and Kibagami tangling with each other, and he burns inside. Like someone cheating on him, he feels spurned that someone else dare pick a fight with him. He can’t make any progress until he’s rid of TNT. He pulls TNT up, but the man in his hand explodes with life, clotheslining him over the top! Thoth lands on the apron, and quickly slides under the bottom rope back into the ring, past TNT. Before he can turn around, Thoth is grabbed around the waist for an attempted German, but goes behind, reversing the waistlock, and delivering a German of his own, taking TNT all the way to the outside!

 

***

Elimination - TNT

Eliminated By - Thoth

Eliminated - None

Left: Wildchild, Sean Atlas, Nathan Kibagami, Thoth, Janus, CIA, Mak Francis

***

 

“And TNT is out! What a surprise, I’d think someone who won the Clusterfuck would do better in here, but you never know. Circumstances are always changing. Though it would have been nice to see Thompson try to go all the way and two-peat,” says Stevens.

 

At that same time, Kibagami is being held back by Sean Atlas, and he is angry about it. He steps up high with a vicious Yakuza kick, trying to flatten Atlas, but the kick is awkward, and has no room to travel. Atlas goes behind, locks the arms, and hits his Straightjacket Suplex! There is additional impact on his arms from them being crossed. Kibagami gets up; known for his staying power, it does take a bit to put him down. Even after his recent string of injuries, he can take a deadly beating. He gets up, and goes for yet another Yakuza Kick. Atlas shrugs... and catches the leg, pulls Kibagami in close, and shakes the ring again with another vicious suplex! But again, Kibagami gets up.

 

“Nathaniel Kibagami showing incredible resiliency, getting up quickly after two hard Sean Atlas suplexes! He’s trying to stay in control of his movements, because if Atlas gets control, the first place his body is going is over that top rope.”

 

Kibagami is standing on wobbly, tentative legs, but he is still ready to fight. He charges in, lifting his knee, for the start of a Yakuza kick, but then lunges forward, sticking out the knee.

 

Atlas doesn’t bite.

 

“I guess Atlas expected Kibagami to fake the knee,” says Stevens, as Atlas goes to the side and takes out the other leg of the Slaughterer. Kibagami gets up, but gets kicked in the gut. Atlas closes the distance fast, getting a tight front facelock. He lifts him up, but grabs him around the waist... and drops him onto the mat with an Exploder!

 

“Oh man... what a vicious Exploder.” Stevens states this matter-of-factly. Kibagami is down, and he doesn’t seem to be getting up very quickly. Atlas picks him up by his hair and pants, and tosses him up and over, out of the ring.

 

***

Elimination - Nathan Kibagami

Eliminated By - Sean Atlas

Eliminated - None

Left: Wildchild, Sean Atlas, Thoth, Janus, CIA, Mak Francis

***

 

“We are down to six men! Nathaniel Kibagami and Taylor Nicholas Thompson have both been eliminated!” shouts Stevens. “Who’s your favorite right now?”

 

“Whoever the biggest man in the ring is, and that man is Janus,” replies Riley.

 

Thoth looks down at Kibagami. He didn’t eliminate him. That’s a problem. Thoth really really really really wanted to be the one to score that elimination himself. Himself or Janus at any rate. He stares a hole at Sean Atlas. How could he? How could he?! This is an offense that will no go unpunished! Thoth charges at Atlas, but gets DDT’ed right into the mat like a railroad spike.

 

CIA has the upper hand on Janus, for as long as he can keep him on the mat. He tries to use an armbar on the ground, but starts looking around nervously for potential attackers. It makes him lose concentration, so when Janus starts to stir, his eyes widen and he seizes up, cinching back deeply into that armbar. His nerves are getting more and more visibly frazzled. Not to mention an armbar is neither dignified in a battle royale, nor flashy, vital prerequisites for the Midnight Carnival. But whatever it takes to win. He sees Mak Francis trying to eliminate Wildchild, and for a split second, he freaks out, thinking that Francis is going to come right after him. He lets go of the arm, and Janus takes the first opportunity to lean over with his other arm and grab Janus, constricting him tightly. What he does with him next is limited to his own imagination.

 

As for Mak Francis, he’s got Wildchild on the ropes, and trying to push... and push... but Wildchild resists. He grabs ahold of his leg, and keeps on pushing. It looks like... it is... the fans are standing in anticipation of another elimination, bringing the number of competitors in the match to half of its starting number. Wildchild’s going out! He falls... and lands on the apron! Thinking quickly, he grabs and holds onto the legs of The Franchise to prevent him from kicking Wildchild out of the ring. He tries to crouch down and push him out, but again, Wildchild defies the odds, sticking his legs up and around the ropes in such a way that he cannot be pulled out. Frustrated, Francis drops a quick knee on the torso of Wildchild. The Tropical Tumbler is hurt, but still well in this match.

 

“We’ve got Janus and CIA, Thoth and Sean Atlas, and Mak Francis and the Wildchild all paring up to take each other out. Who’s going out first?”

 

“Like I said, I bet on the largest man to win, so by that logic, the smallest man is going out first, so I say Wildchild. As you can see, The Franchise has negated Wildchild’s speed advantage, and that Bahama Boy can’t get lucky forever. I think you’ll see Janus, Thoth by association, Francis, and Atlas for your final four.”

 

And somehow, Bobby Riley managed to avoid any jokes of sorts while giving that exposition. Sean Atlas lifts Thoth up after that vicious DDT, and whips him to the ropes. He leapfrogs over the Balancer, and hits the ground running, bouncing off the ropes, and coming back into Thoth, who is simultaneously charging into him, and snaps his body back with a vicious Spear that has the crowd going “Oh!” Atlas gets Thoth up to his feet again, and with one hand on the back of his head, and the other grasping his pants, he runs Thoth to the ropes and up... and up... and it’s not taking. Thoth is resisting going over by holding onto the bottom rope with his feet. Atlas takes Thoth to the corner and shoves him into the turnbuckle. Thoth tries to cover up after the blow, but Atlas tries to throw him over again... no good. He delivers a few kicks to his knees, taking the Balancer down a peg figuratively... and literally! With Thoth incapacitated, Atlas turns his attention to the turnbuckle. He starts undoing the buckle to the top rope, exposing shiny silver steel.

 

“And remember folks,” says Riley, “In this match it’s all legal.” With the steel exposed, Atlas pulls back on Thoth’s head, and turns his body over towards the corner. Thoth hangs limp in Atlas’s hand, and he starts to push him forward... the limpness suddenly ends, as his muscles and tendons snap to life! Thoth sticks a foot out on the turnbuckle, preventing himself from moving any farther forward, and then smashes Atlas’s face into the turnbuckle!

 

“Possum!” screams Riley. “He was playing possum!” He cackles. “I love it!” Sean Atlas steps back dazed and confused, and Thoth wastes no time chucking him up... up... up... and over! He falls to the ground on his side.

 

***

Elimination - Sean Atlas

Eliminated By - Thoth

Eliminated - Xero, Nathan Kibagami

Left: Wildchild, Thoth, Janus, CIA, Mak Francis

***

 

“And Thoth gets revenge for Atlas taking Kibagami to himself. So your predictions for the final four are already wrong, as Atlas is out.” says Stevens.

 

“Well, who cares? It’s not like we had any money riding on it or anything.”

 

Across the ring, Wildchild has turned the tables on Mak Francis, dropping him to the mat with his Caribbean Cutter! He moves quickly now, running to the ropes, and jumps onto them, slingshotting off of them as he curls himself into a ball, and launches his entire body ar Mak, knocking him down like a pinball hits a target! He runs to the other, perpendicular set of ropes, jumps onto the second rope, and nails a slick Asai Moonsault! His body curves with the perfect rate as he lands with sweet chest to chest contact.

 

“And I think you’re about to be wrong again! With the ring mostly cleared, Wildchild has a lot of room to move, and now we can see his full speed come into play. I mean, I never get tired of seeing that kind of offense.”

 

“Yeah, well I never not get tired of your stupid mouth! Huh? Huh? You’re stupid.”

 

“Hey, don’t get all huffy and mad because you can’t predict worth a damn.” OH PWNED~

 

CIA and Janus are trying to get the upper hand on each other. CIA and Janus are both down, the Canadian Carnie in the clutches of Janus. CIA is trying to struggle free, but he can’t escape. However, the struggling prevents Janus from getting an even tighter, life-draining grip on him. They maneuver around each other in minute levels, testing their strengths like UFC warriors in a prone position. Janus would have had the upper hand by now, based on pure strength and will alone, but CIA is exercising his brain, using principles of physics to be able to apply force from an angle and having the force multiplied due to the principles of the lever. In reality, the bicep is a very inefficient muscle, often having to do 120 pounds of force to lift 30 pounds of work. CIA is exercising this principle all over Janus’s ass, but even so, the battle is a stalemate. For Janus is exerting a lot more than 120 pounds of force. Thoth, who is now free at the moment, sees the clash between Janus and CIA, and decides to intervene. He runs over and drops a pair of knees onto the back of CIA. Janus takes his cue, and squeezes hard. CIA can feel his back snap, but nothing’s broken... yet. Thoth lays in heavy boots to the back of CIA as Janus continues to squeeze it. Thoth yells, “That’s enough,” and Janus lets go.

 

“Well, that’s the first instance of teamwork in this match, and this late in the game, it’s going to a big advantage. 2 vs 1 vs 1 vs 1, instead of 5 people trying to beat each other. However, only one person can win this thing, so it begs the eventual question. Who’s going to turn first? Janus or Thoth?”

 

Thoth and Janus put CIA in a sitting position in the corner and take turns delivering punishing kicks to the midsection. He hunches over farther and farther with each one, the combined weight of what could be considered the Clan continuing to bear down on him.

 

Meanwhile, Wildchild gets a kick to the back of the knee, and then runs off the ropes, connecting with a running elbow to the temple! He signals for his finisher, the Wild Ride!

 

“Looks like you’re about to be wrong again, Riley! Wildchild is tearing it up in there!” Wildchild gets a boot to the gut, and then hooks the arms. He bends over and turns around, starting to lift...

 

And Mak Francis gets an arm free! He hooks Wildchild in a front facelock, and grabs his leg! He hoists him up, holding him steady, and then leaps into the air, coming back down with the Bahama Bruiser’s head in tow!

 

“What a reversal!” screams RIley. “Mak Francis reversed it into the Franchise Tag! Wildchild is g-g-g-gone!”

 

Mak, without a second glance, picks up the semi-lifeless husk of Wildchild and tosses him overboard.

 

***

Elimination - Wildchild

Eliminated By - Mak Francis

Eliminated - None

Left: Thoth, Janus, CIA, Mak Francis

***

 

“The final four!” booms Stevens. “Thoth, Janus, CIA, and Mak Francis are left! CIA is in a predicament, both members of what I guess you could call the Clan are beating down on him. The Franchise is free here; what is her going to do?”

 

Mak Francis approaches the other three slowly, waiting to see what will happen. There’s no point in trying to attack now, it would get him killed. CIA is still getting smashed in the corner, but unfortunately, that’s not his concern... only winning. Thoth points his thumb behind him, at the floor, as if to say “Get him out of here.” Janus winds up and tosses CIA out of the ring. At the same time, Mak Francis takes foot, charging towards Janus and Thoth.

 

***

Elimination - CIA

Eliminated By - Janus

Eliminated - Xero, Nathan Kibagami

Left: Thoth, Janus, Mak Francis

***

 

Francis leaps at Thoth and drives a knee as high as he can at The Balancer, who goes up and over the top, landing on the apron. He manages to stop any more motion towards the outside of the ring by grasping onto the bottom rope. Francis tries to move as quickly as he can to get one of his adversaries out of the ring, but Janus is right there. The big enforcer grabs The Franchise’s shoulders, and pulls him back forcefully and angrily. Pressed with the full 7’2” frame of Janus, and eyes set into deep sockets which look him over like a piece of meat, The Franchise backpedals, creating distance, like an air cushion. Francis starts feeling his legs, dancing around Janus. This serves two purposes, one, to start building momentum, and two, to keep Francis from standing still, which would be a sure sign to Janus to kill and rend. Francis bounces off the ropes, and nails Janus in the chin with a full-on steam-filled Yakuza kick! The giant stumbles, and Francis is off again in a flash, off the ropes again with another Yakuza kick! He’s wobbly, coming off of his legs a little bit, and Francis is off a third set of ropes, charging with a Yakuza kick...

 

And...

 

Janus catches the foot, and pulls The Franchise in for a point blank clothesline to the damn face. Thoth rolls back through the ropes into the ring and surveys the damage. He nods to Janus, who nods back. They both pick him up, and whip him to the ropes for a double team move. They run to the other set, and...

 

Well, what happened next a lot of people might miss, it happened so fast.

 

Janus went for a clothesline on Thoth, to try to get him over the ropes. At the same time, Thoth made the exact same move. Janus has a harder time controlling his higher momentum, and can’t quite grasp the ropes... but Thoth is going over at the same time! Thoth struggles to stay afloat as Janus falls to the mat!

 

***

Elimination - Janus

Eliminated By - Thoth

Eliminated - Renegade, CIA

Left: Thoth, Mak Francis

***

 

“Double cross! Triple cross! Quadruple cross!” shouts RIley as Thoth has already let one of his feet touch the floor, struggling to stay up, clutching the top rope. Mak Francis is charging back, and one well placed move could put him out of the match.

 

Mak Francis watches as he closes in on his target. The flailing figure in front is going to be the easiest target he ever hit. He goes low for a baseball slide.

 

Mustering all his strength, Thoth lifts himself up and spreads his legs, trying to create a gap for Mak to go through. It would have worked. Almost. Mak is stopped by the cloth strap that Thoth wears on his pants.

 

“What a tough break for Thoth! If not for his strange fashion sense, the match would have been his right there!”

 

Mak gets up, and shoves himself into the ring ropes, trying to force Thoth off. Thoth ducks, and uses the elasticity of the ring ropes to flip back into the ring, where he tries to sever Mak’s head with a vicious roundhouse kick! Mak ducks, sweeping the other leg, but Thoth catches himself with his hands! He flips back up, but neither of them have time for the Indy Applause Stance, as both men continue their assault on each other!

 

“The two remaining men in the ring have their second winds, but only one can win! This crowd is getting fired up! It’s anyone’s match now!”

 

Janus has gotten up, and is one his way to the back. Inside, the has a smile, knowing that he and Thoth truly get along. Great minds think alike. He disappears behind the curtain.

 

Mak Francis dodges a punch, and locks on a side headlock. He runs forward, ready to drop a bulldog, but Thoth shoves off his aggressor onto his ass, and moves quickly, driving a knee into the back of his head. Francis falls softly into the mat, and Thoth picks him up, like a trash bag, trying to heave him over. But he can’t get him over; Mak has ahold of his pants. He relents, letting Mak go. He charges for a clothesline, trying to get that last, final edge, that final drop of victory, to get him over the ropes...

 

But Mak sees it coming! He leans in, and holds the ropes low for Thoth to get tripped up and fall over!

 

Thoth saw it too. He stops short, yanks Mak off the ropes, and scoops him up... cradles the leg.

 

Riot of the Blood onto the canvas!

 

“And Thoth scores with his patented finishing blow! He was able to outsmart Mak Francis by assuming that Francis was going to outsmart him! All he had to do was go one step farther than Mak did,l and score the win.”

 

It’s academic from here; Thoth just tosses Mak out of the ring.

 

***

Elimination - Mak Francis

Eliminated By - Thoth

Eliminated - Wildchild

Left: Thoth

***

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“And Mak Francis is out! It’s over!” shouts Stevens.

 

“Here is your winner, and the number one contender to the S-W-F World Heavyweight Championship... THOTH!”

 

“Go To Hell” plays again as Thoth, standing panting and bruised in the ring, has his hand raised by one of the officials watching the match. He lets it drop and walks to the edge of the ring. With one eye on Mak Francis, who is walking back up the ramp, glancing over his shoulder to see if he is being followed, Thoth looks at the entryway and motions with his hands that he intends to win the title when he gets his shot.

 

“His first match back in the SWF, Thoth is going to get a shot at the world title. Wow,” says Stevens.

 

“I’m surprised,” says Riley, “I really thought Janus was going to take it, but Thoth was able to exploit Janus to get him out of the ring. Even though Janus tried to do the same to him at the same, one’s gotta wonder, that after this, if Janus is waiting for him in the back with a nightstick and a bar of soap.”

 

“A... what?”

 

“Well, Janus is going to want revenge for this.”

 

“Yeah, but... with that?”

 

“Hey, it’s intimidating.

 

“I’m sure it is. But at any rate, Thoth is going to be able to settle some old scores with Tom Flesher. But up next, our main event, as Stryke goes one on one with Danny Williams for the Intercontinental Television strap!”

 

Thoth starts heading backstage, sweat dripping down his face, as the camera fades to commercial.

[Guest Grand Slam]

SWF Storm returns from the commercial break, and you can still fell the electricity in the crowd following the ten-man battle royale, the Hilton Coliseum buzzing after seeing a new World Title #1 Contender crowned. But there’s still one matter to be taken care of, the Iowa crowd going up in a cheer as they see Funyon stepping through the ropes to introduce the final match of the evening.

 

Funyon: “Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s time for the MAIN EVENT of the evening! The following contest is set for ONE FALL and is for the SWF INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP!”

 

The lights go out, and a moment later LL Cool J’s “Mama Said Knock You Out” starts up, a huge wall of blue and silver pyro spraying up all across the stage befire the lights return on the ramp, revealing Stryke standing at the top of the stage. Blue and white spotlights dance over the stands as the fans waste no time in booing the Australian out the building, but Stryke pays little attention to the boos raining down on him as he starts on his way down the ramp.

 

Stevens: “Welcome back to Storm fans! We’ve just seen an awesome ten-man battle royal to decide World Champion Tom Flesher’s next opponent…”

 

Riley: “Next victim more like it.”

 

Stevens: “Shut up. Well anyway, our next match may very well top it, featuring one of the best ICTV champs we’ve ever had in “Deathwish” Danny Williams, coming off another successful title defence against Wildchild at 13th Hour. Tonight Williams will once again be defending that prestigious prize, against a man who also had a big night at 13th Hour, the recently returned Stryke.”

 

Riley: “And he returned with one hell of a bang, overcoming FOUR other men in a match many people feel stole the show, Stryke reminding the world just how good he is as he won the right for a shot at the ICTV belt, an opportunity he’s cashing in tonight.”

 

Stevens: “I don’t think anyone can deny the quality of his performance in his return to SWF action, but tonight the stakes are raised considerably as Stryke runs into the steamroller that is Danny Williams.”

 

Stryke quickly slides into the ring, moving to the nearest corner and hopping up onto the 2nd turnbuckle, raising his arm to the crowd with an arrogant smirk on his face, only serving to draw more ill feelings from the crowd. Stryke then drops back to the ring and concentrates on the match at hand, focusing himself for one of the biggest matches of his career.

 

Stevens: “Stryke has been in plenty of big matches, he’s been in main events before but those were all with Chris Wilson at his side, this is his first singles main event. Throw in a shot at the ICTV Title and this may very well be the biggest match Stryke’s had in the SWF.”

 

Riley: “And it’ll be his biggest triumph. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and Stryke isn’t going to let it slip. Many people may consider Stryke the overwhelming underdog here tonight, but the moment you count him out, that’s when he’ll beat you.”

 

Stevens: “Well a professional like Williams won’t be underestimating Stryke for a second, the leader of the Unholy Trinity brings his A-game every time he steps into that ring.”

 

With no further delay the gentle melodies of In Flame’s “Jester’s Dance” dances it's way out of the loud speakers, igniting the cheers of the crowd. A vocal “DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!” starts up in full force as Williams pushes his way through the heavy curtains and slowly makes his way out to the platform, ICTV belt around his waist.

 

Riley: “I’ll admit Danny has been as strong as any ICTV champ the SWF has ever seen, but I’m predicting right now that this will be the final time he walks out to the ring with that belt around his waist, it’s Stryke’s turn to stand in the spotlight tonight.”

 

Stevens: “You think that every time Danny defends the title, but time and time again he comes out on top, nobody other than perhaps Tom Flesher has been as dominant as Danny has been these past few months.”

 

With his head held high, Williams confidently marches down the aisle. Danny uses the ring steps to properly enter in the ring, stepping through the ropes and locking eyes with his opponent before moving to the ropes, stretching in final preparation for the match ahead. Funyon then steps back into the middle of the ring, beginning the boxing-style intros for the match.

 

Funyon: “Introducing first, the challenger. Standing 6’3” and weighing 219lbs, from Sydney, Australia, this is STRYKE!!!”

 

The boos rain down on the Australian, but he doesn’t pay any attention to the fans, his attention right on the man standing on the other side of the ring.

 

Funyon: “And now, the he is the REIGNING and DEFENDING SWF INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPION, representing the UNHOLY TRINITY, here is “DEATHWISH” DANNY WILLIAMS!!!”

 

The roar of the fans just about blows the roof off the Hilton Coliseum, Williams raising his arms to the crowd as he’s drowned in a wave of bright red and yellow streamers. Funyon steps out of the ring as ring attendants quickly clear the streamers from the ringside area, referee Matthew Kivell the man with the job of officiating this contest.

 

Stevens: “We’re only seconds away from getting underway, what a match this is set to be. Danny has a marked strength advantage in this one, his power moves and deadly strikes are capable of ending this one quickly. Stryke has the upper hand when it comes to speed and agility, but at 13th Hour we saw how Danny overcame facing a speedster in Wildchild. Stryke may be quick, but he’s nowhere near the Bahama Bomber in that regard, on paper this would seem to favor the champ.”

 

Riley: “Stryke has more than just quickness going for him though. Stryke has several inches height advantage which could come into play, and while he’s certainly not the strongest man to step into an SWF ring Stryke is strong enough to hit a big move of two on Danny during the match. Both men have also been known to take a lot of punishment to put down, a bomb could go off in that ring and I wouldn’t be surprised to see both men standing afterwards.”

 

Stevens: “We could talk and try to analyse what’s going to happen forever, but there’s only one way to find out just who will be walking out of Storm the ICTV Champ and that’s to get the match underway, Kivell in there about to signal for the start of the match!”

 

As Kivell heads to the ropes to call for the bell Stryke hops up and down a few times, pumping himself up for the match, while Danny just stands unflinching, eyes burning a hole in Stryke, all business as Kivell signals for the match to begin!

 

DING DING DING!

 

Stryke shoots forward, wasting no time in going after the champ as Stryke and Danny lock up, Stryke using his momentum to push Williams back towards the turnbuckle, but just before they reach there Danny uses is strength advantage to turn Stryke around and drive him into the corner, breaking free and rocking Stryke in the jaw with a hard elbow! Danny delivers another for good measure, before taking Stryke by the arm and sending him across the ring, Stryke slamming into the opposite turnbuckles. Danny follows soon after, looking for a Running Elbow! But just before Danny can connect Stryke dodges out of the way, leaving Williams to crash chest-first into the hard pads. Stryke quickly spins around behind Danny and delivers a dropkick right to the back, sending Danny right back into the corner again! Williams stumbles back out, and Stryke is right there, wrapping his arms around Danny’s waist and setting for a German Suplex!

 

Riley: “Stryke on top early, avoiding the elbow of Williams and now looking for a German Suplex! If Stryke’s going to win he has to use his quickness to avoid the strikes of Williams and hit a big move whenever the opportunity arises.”

 

Stryke goes to lift Williams back, but Danny plants his feet and uses his lower center of gravity to block it! Stryke tries again to get Williams off his feet, but once more Danny refuses to budge! Before Stryke can try a third time Danny lashes back, throwing a back elbow right into the side of Stryke’s head! The ICTV champ hits another, and another, and as Stryke’s grip weakens Danny breaks free, executing a standing switch and locking his arms around Stryke’s waist, vaulting back and snapping Stryke over onto his shoulders with a German Suplex if his own, cheers echoing throughout the Iowa crowd as Kivell makes the count!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

THR… NNOOO!! Stryke manages to roll his shoulders off the mat, escaping the early pinfall attempt by Williams.

 

Stevens: “Stryke couldn’t land the German Suplex, but Danny sure showed him how it’s done on that one, planting him into the mat and almost ending this match right then and there!”

 

Danny gets back to his feet as Stryke is laid out on the mat, Danny moving over and dropping a quick knee to the head of the Australian, only adding to Stryke’s pain as Danny brings him up in a headlock. Danny moves onto the ropes, but it’s Stryke that takes advantage of the situation, using the spring of the ropes to push Danny away, freeing himself of the headlock and sending Williams across the ring. As Danny rebounds back Stryke charges, going for a clothesline, but Williams will have none of it as he ducks underneath, stopping on the spot and turning, setting himself as Stryke continues onto the opposite ropes. Stryke comes back, and Danny goes to send his head into the 10th row as he goes for a spinning reverse elbow smash! Stryke sees it coming though, managing to duck underneath the incoming blow, getting his head under the arm of Williams and lifting him up for a Backdrop Suplex! Stryke spins around on the spot before dropping back, Danny slamming hard onto the canvas at the hands of the Spinning Backdrop Suplex!

 

Riley: “Danny may have avoided one suplex, but he got all of that one, Stryke wasting no time in following with the cover!”

 

With the crowd booing Stryke rolls over and covers Danny, hooking the far leg as Kivell circles into position for the count!

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

TH… NNOOO!! Danny kicks out forcefully, still far too fresh to be pinned that easily.

 

Stevens: “A nice move from Stryke, but it’ll take more than that to keep the champ down for the count.”

 

Riley: “And Stryke will be more than willing to dish out all the punishment it takes to put him down for the count, having been a Hardcore champ twice Stryke knows how to cause plenty of pain for his opponents.”

 

Stryke starts to stand, bringing Williams up by the arm and keeping hold as he starts to lay in the punches, delivering a barrage of shots to the cranium of Danny Williams, the boos increasing in volume with each punch. Stryke then looks to capitalise, sending Williams to the ropes and on the rebound catching him in position for a rock bottom, setting for the Broken Arrow! The crowd instinctively boo Stryke, but their reaction soon turn to cheers as Danny fights back, slamming his elbow into the side of Stryke’s neck and breaking his hold! Stryke stumbles back, and Danny keeps the pressure on, smacking his head back with a hard elbow shot, much to the pleasure of the crowd. Another lethal elbow strike follows, then another, until Stryke is right back onto the ropes, the fans right behind the Unholy Trinity leader! Williams takes a few steps back before charging full steam at Stryke, raising his arm and drilling Stryke right in the jaw with a huge Running Elbow, the impact sending Stryke up and over the top rope to the floor outside!

 

Stevens: “Stryke is certainly getting acquainted with the elbows of the champ, Danny just battering the challenger with those deadly strikes of his. A few more big hits like that and Stryke will be finished before he knows it!”

 

Stryke flops in a heap on the concrete floor, slowly pulling himself up as a chant of “DAN-E! DAN-E! DAN-E!” starts up once more. Williams isn’t one to disappoint his fans, and as Stryke begins to regain his footing on the floor Danny runs at the opposite ropes, bouncing off and making a beeline right for Stryke! The fans go up in anticipation of what’s next, Stryke turning to face the ring just in time to see Williams take flight, Danny diving between the top and middle ropes and cracking the face of Stryke with an Elbow Suicida!!! Williams shows deceptive agility as he lands safely on his feet, Stryke sent rolling halfway up the ramp from the move as the “DAN-E!” chant just multiplies in volume!

 

Stevens: “ELBOW SUICIDA!!! Danny doesn’t take flight often, but when he does he hits very hard, the fact he’s out on the floor may be the only thing saving Stryke from being pinned right now!”

 

Williams isn’t one to waste time pandering to the crowd, instead moving to Stryke and dragging him up, the challenger seeing stars as Williams brings him back to the ring and rolls him back in. Danny doesn’t follow though, instead hopping up on the apron and moving to the turnbuckles, starting to climb to the cheers of the crowd!

 

Stevens: “Surprisingly it’s Williams who has been more aerially inclined so far, first the Tope Elbow and now perhaps the Diving Elbow!”

 

Riley: “Come on Stryke, this is your big shot, you can’t let Williams win this easily!”

 

Danny reaches the top, and as Stryke staggers to his feet like a drunk Danny dives out, extending his arm for the Diving Elbow! With literally no time to spare Stryke gets the awareness to see the 243lbs of ICTV champ flying at him, and barely dives out of the way, Danny getting nothing but air as he crashes to the mat hard!

 

Riley: “Ha, that’s what he gets for trying his luck with the high-risk stuff, he may of hit once but he should have left it there, all of a sudden Stryke is right back in this one, and he’ll make Williams pay for his error.”

 

Stryke is still woozy from the repeated elbow shots he’s taken, but manages to get back to his feet. Danny meanwhile gets to his knees, shaking his arm out, looking as though he jarred his elbow into the mat on the missed diving elbow. Stryke sees this and decides to take advantage, running over and grabbing Danny by the arm, immediately launching a barrage of punches into the elbow, pounding away at the appendage as the boos begin to flow for Stryke.

 

Riley: “Like a shark smelling blood in the water Stryke goes after that arm. It may or may not bee too hurt now, but it will be after Stryke’s done with it. And besides, Danny can’t keep using his elbow strikes if they’ll hurt him as much as his opponent.”

 

Stevens: “That’s a good point, after being on the receiving end of several hard elbow strikes so far Stryke could be going after the arm to prevent Williams from delivering any more. If Stryke can eliminate one of his opponents biggest weapons that would increase Stryke’s chances of winning immensely.”

 

Stryke pulls the weakened Williams up, quickly shoving him to the near ropes, and as he comes back Stryke latches onto the arm once more, using Danny’s momentum against him as he falls back with an Armbreaker!! The crowd ‘OOOHHH!’ as Danny clutches at his arm in pain, Stryke quickly rolling on top for the cover, Kivell right there to count Danny’s shoulder to the mat.

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

THRE…NNNOOOOO!!! Williams kicks his legs out and breaks the pin, drawing a small cheer from the crowd.

 

Riley: “An armbreaker isn’t a move we’d usually see from Stryke, but he’s showing he’s more than just highspots by digging into his bag of tricks there.”

 

Stryke gets back to a standing base, and with Danny still sprawled on the mat Stryke heads to the corner, walking right over Danny’s arm in the process, making sure he puts his full weight on the elbow of Williams as he moves across the ring, the crowd booing vehemently as they show Stryke just how they feel about him.

 

Stevens: “Walking on the arm, hardly the most honorable tactic we’ve seen tonight.”

 

Riley: “Screw being honorable, Stryke just doing what it takes to win. If that means taking little shortcuts and cheapshots every now and then, so be it. With the ICTV Title on the line, everything’s fair game I say.”

 

Stryke doesn’t pay any attention to the crowd as he reaches the turnbuckle, holding onto the rope as he uses it to spring himself to the top in one go! As Danny starts to stand Stryke turns to face the ring, setting himself before leaping towards Williams, executing a frogsplash before connecting with a hard crossbody! Stryke slams on top of Williams as they hit the mat, but their momentum continues, Williams rolling back over on top of Stryke and holding for the surprise pin, the fans going wild as Kivell counts!

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE…NNNNOOOOOOO!!! Despite being taken by surprise Stryke gets it together in time to kick out, to the joy of Bobby Riley and the disappointment of everyone else.

 

Stevens: “Despite being hit with that Frogsplash Crossbody it was the champ that nearly scored the pin, rolling right through into a very near fall, just when you think he’d down Williams pulls a trick out of his sleeve and turns things right around.”

 

Both men roll back to their feet quickly, but Danny is still feeling the effects of the crossbody, allowing Stryke to get up quicker and clothesline Danny right back down to the mat. Stryke doesn’t stop there, reaching down and grabbing the arm of Williams, holding it out as Stryke drops down with a leg drop right across the joint, slamming Danny’s arm into the mat. Stryke stands back up, and with the fans booing him mercilessly Stryke drops another for good measure, Williams letting out a cry as Stryke drops the leg across his arm once more.

 

Riley: “Stryke quickly putting a stop to that come back, going right back to the arm. Stryke is on top of his game tonight so far, he must be able to taste that belt, and if things keep going this way it’ll be in his possession before too long.

 

Stevens: “Williams isn’t one to stay down for long though, it’s only a matter of time before he’s back on top of this one.”

 

Stryke continues to keep hold of Danny’s arm, this time pulling him up to his feet. Stryke goes to Irish whip Williams across the ring, but instead of letting go Stryke violently pulls the arm back, just about yanking it out of the socket as Danny drops down to his knees grasping at his arm in obvious pain. Stryke keeps right on top of the champion, dragging him back up before whipping him to the ropes for real this time, setting himself as Danny rebounds back and pressing the champ up into the air, looking for his Press Slam to Samoan drop move the Showstopper! But just as he gets him up Danny slips off the back, landing behind Stryke and shoving him towards the ropes. Stryke springs back, only to run right into a Danny Williams Big Boot!! Stryke crashes to the mat, Williams dropping on top for the cover!

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE… NNNOOOOOO!!! Stryke kicks his legs out and gets his shoulders up, barely before Kivell’s hand greets the mat a third time.

 

Stevens: “There’s life in the champ yet! His arm has been worked over, so Williams takes Stryke down with a big boot, Williams has many more weapons than just his elbows.”

 

Danny starts to rise, bringing Stryke with him, before driving an elbow to the head of the Australian! Stryke rocks back from the blow, but Williams too reels back, wincing in pain as he stretches him arm out, the elbow hurting him almost as much as it did Stryke. That’s all the opportunity Stryke needs, blasting Williams with a flurry of right hands, forcing him right back to the ropes! With Danny woozy on the ropes Stryke moves back before running in for the kill! Before he can try anything Williams ducks down though, backdropping Stryke right over the top rope to the outside! But wait! Stryke manages to grab onto the top rope, pulling himself in and landing on the ring apron! Stryke goes to attack Danny from behind, but before he can Williams turns, delivering a roundhouse kick right to the leg of Stryke, knocking his feet out from under him and dropping him to the hard floor below!

 

Riley: “Williams sends Stryke to the floor, but he better be careful, being a former hardcore champ that’s Stryke domain out there.”

 

Williams steps through the ropes, dropping to the floor and looking to lift Stryke back up, but as he does Stryke reaches up, taking hold of Danny and pulling him towards the guardrail, sending Williams shoulder and arm first into the hard steel!

 

Stevens: “If that arm was hurting before it’ll be worse now, that steel guardrail certainly doing Williams no favors.”

 

Danny gets up from the guardrail, holding his arm a bit, but Stryke isn’t satisfied yet, taking him by the arm and leading him towards the corner of the ring, in particular the steel ring post. Holding out his arm Stryke quickly swings it into the post, many fans at ringside cringing as Williams yells out in audible pain from having his arm wrapped around the ring post. Kivell yells for Stryke to bring it back in the ring or be disqualified, and while Stryke would normally stretch the rules as far as he could, with a title on the line he quickly abides, rolling Williams back inside.

 

Riley: “Only a brief foray out on the floor, but Stryke made the most of it, Danny’s arm tasting post and guardrail, he won’t be elbowing anything now.”

 

With Danny down in the ring Stryke hops up onto the apron, quickly scaling the turnbuckle as he looks for a high-risk maneuver!

 

Stevens: “Stryke up top, and he could be going for the All Time High! If he hits we’ll have a new champion!”

 

The fans boo with all their hearts as Stryke stands up top, before jumping out for his frogsplash finisher the All Time High! There’s something different this time though, as he flies towards the side of Williams, landing right across his arm! Stryke bounces right back to his feet, looking out into the booing mass of fans as Danny grasps at his arm on the mat, the pain clearly evident in the ICTV champ.

 

Riley: “What a move from Stryke! Landing his finisher across the arm of Danny Williams, at this rate he won’t stop until he rips that arm off and beats Danny to death with it!”

 

Ignoring the hate of the crowd Stryke returns to Williams, reaching down and pulling him up, before running at the ropes, Stryke jumping up onto the middle rope and moonsaulting back through the air, looking to land behind Williams and bring him down to earth with his Moonsault to Reverse DDT! Cameras flash in the crowd as Stryke flips back, but just before he can wrap his arm around Danny’s neck the champ moves forward, running onto the ropes and leaving Stryke to land back on his feet. Stryke regains his footing and goes to focus his attention back on Williams, but it’s too late as Danny roars off the ropes, coming back and decapitating the challenger with a HUGE Western Lariat!

 

Stevens: “Williams scores with the Western Lariat, but can he make the cover?!”

 

The fans go crazy as Stryke convulses in a heap from the Lariat, but Williams isn’t in much better shape, having delivered the lariat with the arm Stryke’s been working on! The impact of the move on Stryke’s head was matched on Danny’s arm, Williams cradling it in pain, but he has to put the pain out of his mind as he crawls forward, dropping on top of Stryke for the cover, Kivell circling into position!

 

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEE… NNNNNOOOOOOOO!!! Stryke just gets his shoulder up in time, the delay in Danny’s cover the only thing saving him on this occasion.

 

Stevens: “On any other day that would have gotten the job done, with the pain it caused Williams slowed his cover enough for Stryke to regain the strength to kick out! But after dominating the match for the last few minutes Stryke is in trouble now, Williams is smart enough to find ways to beat him without further damaging that arm of his.”

 

With the fans cheering him on Williams starts to rise, holding onto Stryke with a wristlock as he brings him to a standing position as well. Danny rears back before swinging forward, connecting with Stryke’s jaw with an elbow, only this time using his other arm!

 

Riley: “Ah crap, ambidextrous elbows, that’s just great. I guess Stryke will have to take that arm out as well.”

 

Williams continues to build momentum, rocking Stryke back to the ropes with more elbows using his other arm, before getting the Australian on the ropes and whipping him across the ring! The go up sensing something big is on it’s way, and they’re right as Danny runs forward, spinning around and smashing Stryke in the face with the ROLLING ELBOW! Stryke drops down like a sack full of kittens, Danny falling right on top for the cover as the fans go ballistic!

 

Stevens: “ROLLING ELBOW, that should be enough for Danny to retain! He’s beaten people with it before, but can it get the job done now as he goes for the cover?!”

 

 

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEE… NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!! Stryke gets his shoulder of the mat with no time to spare, just about the entire Hilton Coliseum in disbelief as Stryke’s ICTV Title dream stays alive!

 

Riley: “Stryke kicks out! Obviously Danny’s strikes aren’t as strong using that arm as opposed to his usual one, Stryke’s tactic is working like a charm to this point.”

 

Danny slaps the mat as he gets to his knees, letting out a little frustration as he goes to get up, locking a headlock on Stryke as he stands, moving over to the ring ropes. Danny uses the spring to send Stryke across the ring, and as Stryke comes back Danny goes to one of his biggest non-elbow moves, the Dynamic Kick! The crowd rises as Danny goes for the Jumping High Kick, but just before he can connect Stryke ducks down, Danny’s boot sailing overhead! Stryke stops and pivots on the spot, and as Williams comes back Stryke is prepared for him, catching him for the second time in the match in rock bottom position, looking for the Broken Arrow! Last time Williams elbowed his way out of it, but it’s not going to happen this time, Stryke lifting Danny up before planting him back first across Stryke’s extended knee with the Broken Arrow! Williams bounces off his knee before dropping to the mat, Danny arching his back in pain as Stryke drops on top for the cover!

 

 

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEE… NNNNNOOOOOOOO!!! Despite the punishment he’s taken Williams finds the energy to kickout, cheers going up as his shoulders clear the mat.

 

Riley: “Second times the charm for Stryke there, Danny’s hurting arm meant he couldn’t use his elbows to escape the Broken Arrow this time, and it very nearly scored the win!”

 

Stryke starts returning to his feet, but he doesn’t go right after Williams again, instead taking a moment to shake out the cobwebs, still moving rather gingerly after being on the receiving end of several big moves from Danny Williams. The time Stryke takes trying to recover allows Danny to continue to defy the pain that fills his body, the champ slowly climbing back up to his feet! Stryke isn’t about to give him a second to rest though, immediately on him and rocking his head back with a stiff European uppercut! Danny stumbles back, slumping against the ring ropes, but Stryke is right there pulling him back off, the sound of another European uppercut connecting with Williams sounding around the Hilton Coliseum. Stryke pulls Danny back up, revving up for another European uppercut, but just as he swings Danny turns hooking his arm with Stryke’s and pulling him down in a backslide, the crowd roaring to life as Danny pins Stryke’s shoulders to the canvas!!

 

 

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEE… NNNNNOOOOOOOO!!! Stryke just barely breaks free of Danny’s grasp, his shoulders getting off the mat milliseconds before the three.

 

Stevens: “What a reversal, Danny coming oh-so-close to getting the win with the backslide!”

 

Riley: “Stryke won’t go down to some crappy little backslide or rollup, he’s so close to claiming the ICTV title, he won’t go down without the fight of a lifetime.”

 

Both men get to their feet as quickly as their bodies will allow, up at nearly the same time but it’s Williams who strikes first, executing a roundhouse kick aimed for the midsection of Stryke, only for Stryke to catch his leg mid-kick! Stryke pushes Danny’s leg away, spinning him around, and Stryke latches onto Danny as his back’s turned, locking on a sleeper and swiftly dropping down, snapping Williams down with a Sleeper Drop! Stryke crawls forward, dragging himself onto Danny for the cover!

 

 

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEE… NNNNOOOOOOOOO!!! The weak cover of Stryke allows Williams to just kick out, his shoulders barely escaping the canvas in time.

 

Stevens: “Danny Williams refuses to say die! Another kickout from the champ, despite the punishment he’s taken Williams keeps fighting on, he’s not going to let the ICTV belt out of his grasp without an almighty fight!”

 

Stryke gets up to his knees, giving an exasperated look towards Kivell before getting up, taking a moment to get his breath back as he lets Williams expend his own energy in getting to his feet. As Danny is almost up Stryke heads to the corner, quickly running up the turnbuckles to the top and leaping back towards Williams, landing on his shoulders for a Hurricanrana! Stryke falls back, but Williams refuses to budge! He holds onto Stryke as he hangs upside down, before drawing all the strength he can muster, pulling Stryke back up onto his shoulders, in position for a Powerbomb!

 

Stevens: “POWERBOMB!! Stryke’s failed hurricanrana leaves him right in position for Danny to fold him up in a Powerbomb Pin! This is it!”

 

Danny lifts Stryke right back over his shoulders, but Stryke will not accept defeat yet either, using the momentum against Williams as he falls out of Danny’s grasp down his back, holding on and rolling him up in a Sunset Flip, pinning his shoulders to the mat! Kivell makes the count!

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEE… NNNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!! A fraction of a second before his shoulders are counted to the mat Williams kicks out, a massive roar of approval going up from the crowd!

 

Riley: “Dammit, stay down! Stryke should have won, that had to be three!”

 

Stevens: “Well it wasn’t, Williams wants to win this one just as much as Stryke does! What’s it going to take to end this one?!”

 

Again both men roll back to their feet, the crowd noise off the chart for Danny Williams, but Stryke temporarily puts a stop to that, halting Williams in his tracks with a kick to the midsection. With the Unholy Trinity leader doubled over Stryke lifts him up, moving to the nearby turnbuckle and sitting him on the top. With Danny perched up high Stryke starts to climb up as well, standing up in front of Williams, in preparation for a Top Rope Hurricanrana!

 

Riley: “Oh yeah, time to finish this one off! Williams might have survived everything so far, but a hurricanrana off the top might just be enough to put Williams down at long last!”

 

Stevens: “You may be right, but it doesn’t look like Williams is going to go along with it!”

 

With the crowd cheering him on Danny fights back, driving a fist into the stomach of Stryke, putting the pain filling his body out of his mind as he stuns Stryke with another shot, long enough for Danny to start to stand up on the top turnbuckle! Using Stryke’s body to help balance himself Williams stands up, pulling Stryke’s head inbetween his legs as he sets for a top rope Powerbomb!

 

Stevens: “Oh my god, Danny setting for the Powerbomb FROM THE TOP! This will definitely finish Stryke off, I don’t care who you are you won’t get up from this!”

 

Riley: “NO! Come on Stryke fight back, you’re so close, you can’t lose now!”

 

Everyone in the crowd is on their feet, the noise deafening as Williams locks his arms around Stryke’s waist, setting himself for a second before powering Stryke up, getting him onto his shoulders as he jumps forward!! But in mid-flight Stryke manages to take advantage of the weakened arm of Williams, slipping out of his grasp and falling back, keeping his legs around Danny’s head and SPIKING HIM INTO THE MAT WITH A SUPER HURRICANRANA!!! The crowd just absolutely EXPLODES, a “HOLY SHIT!” chant immediately starting as Danny lies comatose on the mat, Stryke writhing like a fish out of water as the move just about wipes him out as well!

 

Stevens: “GOOD LORD, Stryke reverses the Powerbomb to a Super Hurricanrana in MID-AIR!! Both men are wiped out, I don’t know if anyone can get up after that!!”

 

Riley: “YES! Come on Stryke, you’ve got him where you want him, just get over there and make the cover! You’ll never get a better chance than this!”

 

Half the crowd continue with the ‘HOLY SHIT!’ chants, the other half start booing with all their might as they see Stryke slowly, inch by inch starting to crawl over towards the prone Danny Williams! Stryke is in agony from the move, but with the ICTV title so tantalisingly close to being his he blocks it out, dragging himself towards Williams with sheer determination, reaching the champ and draping himself across, hooking the leg as Kivell drops to the mat to make the count!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEE… YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!

 

DING DING DING!

 

Riley: “Stryke did it! I told you he would, we have a NEW ICTV Champion in the SWF! And it was the weakened arm of Williams that allowed Stryke to slip free and hit that Super Hurricanrana, all of Stryke’s work coming together perfectly to put Danny Williams down for the three!”

 

“Mama Said Knock You Out” starts up, Stryke rolling off Williams, every bit of energy drained as Kivell raises his arm in victory, Funyon getting on the mic to make it official.

 

Funyon: “The winner of this match, and NEW SWF INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPION, STRYKE!!!”

 

Stryke can barely stand, stumbling back onto the ropes as Kivell brings him the title belt, Stryke weakly raising it to the booing crowd before dropping back to the mat. His energy spent, his body wracked with pain, but it’s all worth it, as Stryke realises his dream and becomes the new ICTV Champion.

 

Stevens: “You have to give both men all the credit in the world, but tonight it’s Stryke that comes out on top, continuing his successful comeback with the biggest win of his SWF career. You know Danny Williams will bounce back from this loss though, and who knows, perhaps now he may move into contention for Tom Flesher’s World Title. But whatever happens in the future, for tonight at least it is Stryke who is on top of the SWF. For everyone in the SWF I’m “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens, we’ll see you on Lockdown.”

 

One final shot is shown of Stryke holding the belt over his head before Storm fades to black.