Smarky McSmarkdown!

September 9, 2003

EARLIER TODAY:

Suicide King steps outside of his office and prepares to head down the hallway, when…

SLAM!

… John Duran emerges from out of nowhere, grabbing King by his collar and slamming him against the wall! Skillfully masking the initial sense of shock and fear from his face, King smiles at Duran with mock sweetness. “John Duran. Just the person I was looking for…”

SLAM!

“Cut the crap, King,” roars Duran. “I want to know why you shafted me! You promised me Wildchild tonight! What gives?”

King brushes The Sinner’s hands aside calmly, and takes a moment to straighten out his shirt. “Now look, Duran, I’m sorry that I couldn’t have told you about this sooner, but I have responsibilities as a promoter, all right? The card is, after all, subject to change…”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It was brought to my attention,” replies King, “that Wildchild hasn’t defended the Hardcore Title in over a month, so I had to ensure that a title defense took place…”

“Bullsh*t,” roars Duran. “If you have all the damned stroke that you claimed to have, you could have just stripped him of the title!”

King’s eyes narrow slightly, indignant at the attitude from Duran. “Let’s just say that I have my reasons,” he replies, barely managing to keep the edge out of his voice, “and they are not for you to question. I could just take it from him, but I want him to lose it. And it is, with that in mind, that I was just on my way to look for you. Step into my office,” King says, as he opens the door to his office, revealing Ejiro Fasaki seated inside. “We have much to talk about.”

As we:

FADE OUT

September 9, 2003

SWF Smarkdown

September 8, 2003

LIVE from the SOLD-OUT Ford Center in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma!

Opening Promo - Micheal Craven

The last man standing out of the winner's bracket has some things on his mind. We'll give him a few minutes at the top of the show to tell us about them.

Singles Match

CIA v. Crow

Both of these guys got bounced from the tourney early and are raring to get back on track for G4. Add in the fact that their respective tag teams are vying for a shot at the Tag Belts and this coud be an intense and action-packed opener!

No-DQ Singles Match

"The Sinner" John Duran v. Annie Eclectic

Having cleared up her contract despute that dropped her from the G4 Tourney, Annie is ready to get back in the swing of things. What better way than by facing the evil Duran. Apparently, King is a little annoyed at poor Ms. Eclectic...

Non-Title Challenge Match

Mak "The Franchise" Francis v. Johnny "The Barracuda" Dangerous

The same man who once had the kahones to challenge then World Champ Tom lesher to a match once again takes control of his own destiny. And after what he did to Thugg on Wednesday, King was more than happy to oblige. Tonight, Johnny tries to prove he belongs in the upper echelons of the SWF by taking on the reigning ICTV champion in a non-title match.

Hardcore Title Match

WildChild © v. Xcalibur

WC was in danger of losing his title on a technicality so he asked for a title defense. King was more than happy to give him one and threw the new guy at him to make him happy. This one has potential boys and girls...

Six Man Tag Match

"The Superior One" Tom Flesher, Quiz & Show v. Dace Night, Va'aiga and The Boston Strangler

On Storm, TBS defends his World Title against the former champ and #1 Contender Tom Flesher and it looks like the Unholy Trinity and Quiz Show are headed to a confrontation over the shiny tag belts. Mix these two ingredients together, bring to a boil and enjoy...

G4 Tournament (Loser's Bracket) Semi-Final (Non-Title)

"Judge Mental" William Hearford III v. Ejiro Fasaki

Tag partners against each other. Justice v. Rule with a shot at the bracket final on the line. Two of the best in the Fed facing off in the main event. Boys and Girls, if I have to shill it more than that to get you excited, you ain't been paying attention.

September 9, 2003

** Recorded Moments Ago **

A limo pulls into the parking lot and comes to a stop. The camera pulls around the back of the vehicle as it makes its way over to the driver side door, passing by the license plate that reads, “Thugg1”. The fans in the arena bowl can be heard cheering as the door the limo opens and a huge Timberland boot punishes the ground. The other foot meets the pavement, and the Hville Thugg stands up tall from the limousine, using a cane to help support him. There is no one else around to greet the beast from DC, although, the look in Thugg’s eye seems to indicate all is not as it should be. He nods to his driver and walks slowly over to the arena door, leaning heavily on the cane. He pulls the door open and enters the arena, where he sits down in a wheelchair waiting for him on the otherside.

** End Transmission **

BOOM!!

The pyrotechnics light up the darkened arena and the fans let loose with excitement. The Smarkdown theme blares over the arena audio system, and the camera pans over the fans, each one of them holding a sign. Most of the signs are very elaborate in detail, but there are a few that look like a 7-year-old made them and read simply, “Bill” or “Joe” or “King Loves The Cock”.

(Comet) – Good citizens of the world! Welcome to another edition of SWF Smarkdown! Alongside the pretentious Bobby Riley, I am superhero extraordinaire, Cyclone Comet! What a show we have lined up tonight…I’m talking huge folks! Two of the SWF’s top young talent face off in the semi-finals of the World Title Tournament as “The Judge” William Hearford faces off against his tag team partner and fellow Magnificent Seven member…and not to mention US Champion, Ejiro Fasaki! This match is something people have been talking about for months, and looking forward to since the card was released. Also on the docket tonight we have…

(Riley) – Aren’t you even going to address what we just saw?

(Comet) – Patience my deplorable sidekick…We’ll get to that. As I was saying, we’re gonna round out the field for the…

(Riley) – Don’t just gloss over me like that…and stop calling me your sidekick. I make more money than you!

(Comet) – Come now Bobby…you make more money? You seem to forget all of the “honorariums” I receive for my work in saving lives…not to mention my very lucrative Pepsi Max endorsement deal. Just call me the Tiger Woods of announcers.

(Riley) – {sigh}

(Comet) – Fine…what we just witnessed folks was the Hville Thugg arriving at the arena. We all saw, on Lockdown, that King banned Thugg…who is a part owner of the federation…from television and from the arenas.

(Riley) – And already, he has broken both of those bans.

(Comet) – Indeed he has Bobby, but it’s for the greater good of the federation. And I think King’s gonna get what’s coming to him tonight by the hands of the Hville Thugg!

Suddenly the youthful face of the Suicide King appears on the SmarkTron, cocky lopsided grin plastered on his face. As the crowd boos and jeers, he begins to speak…

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Oklahoma City, I have the distinct pleasure of letting you know that tonight you will all bear witness to the cessation of hostilities between myself and the H-Ville Thugg. In a phone call earlier tonight, he informed me that, having thought over my proposal on Lockdown, and having exhausted all other avenues, that he is willing to sign the contract that will allow him to stay with the SmartMarks Wrestling Federation as a backstage talent and occasional on-air personality.”

The crowd starts to cheer, but realizes what this means, and begins to boo again. Onscreen, the Gambling Man just continues smiling.

“Thus as you have seen, I have allowed him to attend the live show tonight so that we can have this contract signing in the ring.” Small cheers, mostly people marking that they might get to see something special. “I’m glad you feel that way. Thugg may not be able to walk anymore, he may be a cripple…” Boos from the capacity crowd. “But I am sure he will still be able to contribute to the SWF. Thank you for your time and enjoy the show! Buy many, many t-shirts…” With a sly grin and a wink, the Commissioner of the SWF disappears from the screen to the boos of the fans in attendance.

“Do you know what this means Citizen Robert?”

“I do Comet! It means no more time wasted on that pathetic excuse for a human being the H-Ville Thugg!! Once King has him sign that agreement, his little revolution is over! No way King puts up with that crap from him now!”

“Robert, you get closer and closer to ‘super-villain’ in my book every day! No, what this means is that King has won this battle of wills! Yet again, King has beaten the Thugg! This is outrageous!”

“This is business Comet… pure business… and speaking of business, we have some commercials for you…”

September 9, 2003

BOOM!

The crowd explodes as SWF hits the airwaves, entering the homes of millions of viewers worldwide of the Smarkmarks Television Network. The fans in the arena go nuts with their signs, cheers, and jeers, looking for yet another amazing edition of SWF Smarkdown!

“Welcome to SWF Smarkdown! We’re live here in the Ford Center in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma!” Bobby Riley announces. “I’m Bobby Riley, joined as always by-”

“CYCLOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!”

Riley sighs as Comet turns, giving a heroic thumbs-up and grin to the cameraman.

“Can we go one night without you doing that, Comet?”

“I’m afraid not, Robert,” Comet replies, “for it is a part of my superhero customs.”

“Yeah, along with shoving your head and other things up your BUTT,” Riley retorts. Comet looks puzzled for several seconds before answering.

“No... I believe that is yours, queer quagmire.”

Riley sits there, somehow falling into yet another verbal trap of his own creation. He slaps his forehead, sliding it down his face in exasperation and annoyance.

“Whatever, caped freak. Let’s just get this started.”

The lights cut out, the crowd going silent for a second. Suddenly, strobe lights pulse to the beat of the guitar and drums in the background as Saliva’s “King of My World” kicks in, the crowd beginning to boo as they realize who it is. As the first words kick in, the strobes cut out, a pale blue light covering the arena, illuminating the figure of Michael Craven as he walks out onto the stage, no expression visible on his shadowed face. Continuing his walk down to the ring, he turns around at the top of the ramp, walking backwards as he stretches his arms out wide, soaking in the crowd’s jeers. Halfway down the ramp, though, he abruptly spins back around, swinging his right arm in a straight path across the top of the stage.

“BOOM!”

A huge blast of bright white pyro kicks up, the smoke lingering on stage for quite some time as Craven finishes the spin, continuing his walk to ringside without interruption.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Winner’s Bracket Champion... “THE KING OF NIGHTMARES” MICHAEL CRAVENNNNN!!!” Funyon booms over his microphoone, drawing further boos from the crowd.

Entering casually through the middle and top ropes, Craven quickly scales the turnbuckle closest to him, opening his arms wide and soaking in the crowd’s response, a chorus of heavy boos, as a white spotlight shines down upon him, casting shadows across his face.

“Look at that man, Comet,” Riley declares, beaming with pride. “That man is a future World Champion, and don’t you tell me otherwise!”

Craven hops off the turnbuckle, snatching the mic from Funyon’s hands. The SWF ring announcer then leaves the ring quickly, giving the spotlight over to the King of Nightmares.

“Damn, I’m in a good mood today!” Craven states, smiling from ear to ear. “I can’t believe that after all this time, and all the shit I’ve been through, I’m so close to something I’ve been working my whole career to reach, even back when I was just a lowly MLer and JLer-”

“KET-CHUM~!”

The crowd picks up on it almost instantly, recongnizing the former gimmick and alias of Michael Craven. However, Craven’s known history of despising that part of his career, except for anything that makes him look good, comes into play as well.

“Cut it, you redneck jackasses.”

The crowd boos loudly, but Craven presses on.

“Now, for those of you who can’t remember what they did this morning, much less my tenure in the ML, JL and WF, let me break it down for you.”

Craven twirls the mic in his hand much like one would do with a pencil before he clutches it again, delivering a small lesson on history to the hostile OKC crowd.

“I started wrestling in the ML in March 2001, with one thing on my mind: being bumped so I could win the WF World Championship. I came to the JL in June of that year, with one thing on my mind: being bumped so I could win the WF World Championship. And when I finally got bumped, I still had one thing I wanted to do more than anything else: win the SWF World Championship. And if you haven’t got it by now, I’ll make it real simple: I’ve spent the last two and a half years working my ass off just to get this close...”

“Citizen Craven is just braggi-”

“Shhhh!” Riley covers Comet’s mouth while Craven continues to speak, Bobby keeping the superhero’s comments to an ablsoute minimum.

“Just one match. One match away from the prize at the top of the ladder...” Craven holds up one finger just to make sure the Sooners get it. “... one.”

“Mmmfffhhh, mffh, mmmffh, mmffmmhhff-”

“What’d I tell you, Comet?” Riley snaps, the crowd once again, surprise, booing at Craven as he tries to speak again.

“And that prize is a chance to free my mind from the one thing that runs through it 24/7, 365 days a year, accomplish that one goal on top of my ‘to-do’ list...”

“... winning the SWF World Championship.”

Even at the pure notion of Craven winning the World Title, the crowd goes into a tizzy, booing loudly at The King of Nightmares as he grins.

“Zounds!” Comet reples as he pulls Bobby’s hand off his mouth, “What a nefarious plan! Someone must stop him, young associate!”

But Riley isn’t in the mood for Comet’s crap today.

“That’s it, I’m getting the duct tape.”

As Riley searches for a roll of the one and only universal adhesive, Craven begins to wind down his thoughts and finish his speech.

“Of course to do that, I will have to beat but one more opponent. Danny Williams, Apostle, William Hearford, or Ejiro Fasaki. Now I’ll give you this: any one of them has a shot of beating me, though their chances vary in size. But they won’t.”

The crowd waits for Craven to explain, but a few still jeer him, even as he begins to speak.

“Why? Danny’s injured, Apostle’s a JLer for God’s sake, and Ejiro and Judge haven’t gone anywhere since they lost the tag titles. So face the facts, people... I’m destined to win this torunament and go onto Genesis IV.”

“But Ejiro defeated him for the US Title-” Comet interjects, only to be cut off by Riley.

“No one cares, masked maniac. Just listen to the man speak.”

The crowd hisses at Craven, trying to get him to leave or stop talking, but he defiantly ignores their boos, bringing the mic back up to his lips again.

“And for the poor soul I face in the tournament final, as well as the World Champion, whether it be Strangler or Flesher, this is the message written on the wall in the blood of those who have fallen before me...”

“... prepare yourselves, for your devastation is at hand!!!”

Craven smiles as he throws the mic out of the ring, his lips curling upward into a dastardly smile as “King Of My World” blasts over the speakers, The King of Nightmares exiting the ring. The fans begin to throw garbage at him, but he ignores

“The King of Nightmares has spoken!” Riley yells, strucken with awe like a ten-year old who has just discovered the Playboy Channel. “However, it’s time to pay some bills, so watch this commercial that some morons put together in their mom’s basement!”

And as we fade to commercial, we can still see Craven’s face, a look of pleasure on his face as one word passes through his mind, one word that has been burned into his mind by his boss, one word that can only describe the state Craven knows he’s in right now...

Unstoppable.

September 9, 2003

CIA vs Crow

Double no-show Let's say for storyline's sake that they were eaten by wild boars.

September 9, 2003

*BEEEEEEEEEEP!*

“What is it now…” mumbles King, rubbing his brow as he goes over a stack of papers.

“Mr. Applewhite? Mak Francis is here to see you, sir. He doesn’t have an appoint—hey, you can’t go in there!”

“You got an explanation?” says the Franchise, as he pushes his way past the secretary and into the office. “Why did you call off the tournament match, you son of a—”

“Now you listen to me, you little…” states a scowling King, as he stands, slamming his hands down while he rises out of his chair, glaring. Francis follows suit, looking surprisingly calm, as he stares a hole into King, who backs down with a slight sneer, sliding back into his seat, while waving a dismissive hand, which causes Mak to smirk. “Please, you’re barely worth the trouble, kid. There are many reasons why that match could have been cancelled, beside me doing it on a whim, which is entirely possible.” King chuckles then grins at Francis, motioning for him to take a seat. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we.” He says, while motioning with his hand. “On one hand we have Show, a damn fine tag team specialist that along with his partner Quiz—ha, who beat you in the first round of the tournament, by the way, will have to defend the tag belts at Genesis.”

“So,” responds Mak, sitting down, “that’s definitely not the reason. Yo, are you self-absorbed enough to get rid of a match, for that? On a whim? I could see it, but somehow I doubt that’s it.”

“Right you are.” say King, with a nod. “There are more pertinent reasons. So, we’ve covered Show, correct… and then, there is everybody’s favorite Intercontinental Television champion,” mentions King, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “that’d be you.” He adds pointing at Mak for good measure. “Now, beyond the fact that you’re an overconfident little prick—I don’t think you are worthy of the World title, let alone holding that belt that you have right now.”

“Shocked? Surprised? Not likely.” King asks rhetorically, finally getting his desired emotion from Francis. Anger. “Please. Do you think you deserve that belt? How could you possibly think that you deserve any reward for showing me up? Of course not! Forcing me to walk away, hanging my head in defeat.” He practically spits out. “I took that personally, Mak, I mean, really personally.”

“That’s bullshit, plan and simple.” starts Francis, balling his hands into fists. “I came back from injury, EARLY, and fought the hardest in my entire life, defending the belt against anyone you threw at me. ANYONE DAMNIT! I was a fighting champion. You, the commissioner, of all people, have to know that? And you stripped me of the belt. For no. Fucking. Reason. It was all bullshit, every word you said…” Mak shakes his head in disgust. “I knew you were a bitter, grudge holding, little pansy, but this—”

The King of Hearts quickly butts in. “But, as I was about to say, I’m not a petty man… okay I am, but there’s nothing you could do about it anyway, if that were the case, now could you?”

“Then… that’s not the reason either…?” asks a shocked Franchise.

“Oh, but that made it all the more fulfilling to do, Mak.” King says with a shit eating grin, blazon across his face. “So that brings us to the final match participant, Sacred. Now, Andrew Blackwell is a complicated fellow. When this tournament originally started, all he wanted to do was hurt Strangler. And I commended him for that, go get ‘em attitude, but the more things change, the more they stay the same. Young Andrew is a tad -- I believe the term is, unstable.”

“And he’s a very cryptic fellow, that Sacred. He comes up with some interesting plans, when given some slight direction.” Francis just stares at King quizzically, wondering if he knows something about Blackwell’s tape recording, from last show. “Okay, I can see your attention span is that of a twelve year old at his parents’ computer, so I’ll cut to the chase. But I had some fun with those guys in Nebraska, didn’t I?” The Gambling man laughs, but regains his composure. “In reality, the triple threat didn't happen because Blackwell conceded his chance to kill Strangler at Genesis and asked for the match to be cancelled.”

“…What the…huh…”

“I know, you’re speechless, for once, thank god. I doubt I could’ve taken anymore of your mouth. I’m sure you want to know why, right. It’s as simple as this… he has some…” King stops and ponders on the proper words to use. “…Some different objectives, at this time.”

Francis opens his mouth to speak, but King quickly interrupts. “So, now that I’ve explained that… how’s about you get ready for your match. Think of it as a test. I think, actually, I know, you’ll be defending the title on this up coming Storm, what with you being so close to breaking Flesher’s ICTV title reign. Watch out Mak, Dangerous has been itching for a challenge and since his little exercise session with Thugg in the halls was so funny, I thought he might as well kick your arrogant ass.” Francis stands up in a huff, and walks towards the door, fairly irate. “Now if you’ll please get the hell out…”

“And don’t slam the damn—”

*WHAM!*

“…door…” The Gambling man sighs. “…Why does everyone always displace their anger at me, on my poor door?”

***

*WHAM!*

The secretary gives Mak an evil look as he slams the door, but it suddenly changes to amused, causing Francis to wonder just what changed that situation so quickly. Then she points to his left. “He actually has an appointment.” And Francis can’t help, but laugh at his situation… since Johnny Dangerous, cancer stick lit in his mouth, stands a few steps in front of him.

“I came by to thank King and re-tell the, oh so thrilling tale of Thugg on wheels. Who thought I’d run into you, of all people.”

“It’s just one of those days isn’t it?” he asks the secretary, who rolls her eyes. “This has to be a joke…”

“I’m not a joke you cocky little punk.” says the calm, cool and collected Super spy, who suddenly gets a little less calm and cool, after taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“I never called you a joke, did I Johnny? I don’t underestimate opponents and I don’t like what you’ve been doing to Wildchild, by the way. The kid is cool. Me, CIA and Annie like him. He’s going to be a big time player in this game, but, what really gets me is, I thought you were his friend. He respected you, but you’re a different story. And nothing pisses me off more than a lack of respect.”

“That’s not your concern.” says Dangerous, quickly changing the direction of the conversation. “You’re just lucky that this match is non-title because you’re about to find out just how much I have changed. I’ve got something special in store for you. A little ‘Hidden Agenda’, if you will.” Johnny takes another long drag, preempting his speech, before blowing the smoke into Mak’s face, forcing him to cough. “And when I pin you in the center of the ring, you’ll realize that you shouldn’t talk shit that you can’t back up.” With that Dangerous brushes by Mak, and enters King’s office, rubbing out his cig on the door frame. The Franchise can only stand there, coughing and brushing off his shoulder, acting like the sheer disrespect of the act meant nothing. After a minute he continues on his way, mumbling to himself. “Just one confusing thing after another…”

September 9, 2003

The commercials end and fade back into SWF Smarkdown. The beats and lyrics of "Sinner" by Drowning Pool fill the Ford Center as the sold-out crowd rises to their feet to boo.

Riley: "And we're back on SWF Smarkdown! Bobby Riley alongside...sigh...Cyclone Comet. This next match is between two wrestlers at different stages of their careers!"

Comet: "That's right, Bobby! On one hand, you have the righteous, yet violent Annie Eclectic, the Hardcore Queen herself, and on the other, the evil John Duran, who is still a young one in the ranks of the SWF!"

While Riley and Comet converse, John Duran walks through the curtain and begins his stroll down towards the ring. Duran is toting a trio of light tubes on his left shoulder, carrying them down to the ring with him, ready to use them if need be.

Funyon: "Ladies and gentleman, this match is a No-DQ match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Champaign, Illinois and weighing in at 265 pounds, he is The Sinner...JOHN DURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Comet: "I don't trust John Duran with those light tubes. That can spell nothing but trouble."

Riley: "I think it's time the Hardcore Queen was put in her place. Duran is just the man to do it, of course."

Duran places the light tubes on the corner near the ring steps, and then steps up onto the apron before moving through the ropes and into the ring. "The Sinner" has a few words with one of the fans in the front row, not to mention a few gestures, as he awaits his opponent.

"I Get Wet" by Andrew W.K. cues up, and the fans explode with cheers for the Hardcore Queen as pink and green pyro explode at the top of the ramp. Annie steps through the curtain sporting her Japanese flag trenchcoat, Frost Brand Cigar, and kendo sword. Eclectic takes her time going down to the ring, enjoying the love she's getting from her fans, as Duran watches on from inside the ring.

Funyon: "And his opponent, hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana and weighing in at 175 pounds, she is The Queen...ANNIE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECLECTIC!"

Annie continues down to the ring, going to the opposite side from Duran and climbing up the ring steps, dropping her kendo sword in the corner and climbing to the second rope in the corner and taking a glance at Duran before flicking her cigar at him. Duran is infuriated at this, and seems ready to go as Annie jumps into the ring, removing her trenchcoat and tossing it to the crowd to the delight to some of the guys in Oklahoma. With that, the ref turns towards the timekeeper and calls for the bell.

*DING DING DING*

As the bell rings, Duran steps towards the center of the ring before taunting Annie, telling her to step up to him. Annie walks up with a smile on her face, getting face-to-face with Duran--or as close as she can get.

Riley: "I do hope Annie realizes she is more than a foot smaller than Duran, not to mention 90 pounds lighter."

Comet: "Things do not look good for the heroine in this match."

Riley: "Well, that'll teach Annie to stay off the drugs."

Duran looks down at Annie and then begins to laugh in her face, which sets "Angel" off. Eclectic slams her right hand into the jaw of Duran, catching John off guard and sending him back a step. Duran's hand goes to his jaw, surprised that such a small girl can pack a punch. Before "The Sinner" has time to react to this initial strike from Annie, however, Eclectic brings her leg up and slams it into the side of Duran, hitting a brutal kick.

Comet: "What she lacks in size, she makes up for in downing enemies with her kicks! I respect that!"

Using her speed to her advantage against a guy as big as Duran, Annie grabs the back of John's head and forces him down as Annie leaps up and catches Duran right into the mouth with a hard knee, generating an "Ohhhh!" from the crowd. Duran hits the mat after this rising knee to the face, holding his mouth and checking for blood.

Comet: "What the? It's good to see that the forces of good are prevailing early, but I thought that these so-called hardcore matches featured weapons?"

Riley: "Oh, believe me, Annie will be getting weapons soon enough. Only one way to keep Duran down, right?"

Sure enough, Annie leaves the ring as soon as the knee to the face connects, quickly displacing the timekeeper from his chair and taking the chair for her own, tossing it in the ring before sliding in after it. By this time, Duran has risen to one knee, and the crowd is thinking that Annie is going to go for some chair action. The Queen seems to change her mind, however, as Duran rises to his feet. Annie pushes John towards the ropes, grabbing Duran's right arm and preparing to whip him into the ropes. "The Sinner" easily reverses this, however. Annie goes into the ropes, and on the rebound, is caught with a clothesline from Duran.

Riley: "There you go, Johnny! Now grab that chair and bash her brains in!"

Duran doesn't decide to go for the chair still in the ring, however, bringing Annie back to her feet without much trouble, and then grabbing Annie, putting her over the top rope as she falls to the outside with a small THUMP.

Comet: "Here we go. I think this is what we're supposed to expect, Bobby! Action on the outside! I can barely contain myself!"

Riley: "Not that I care much for what becomes of Annie, but she's in a tough spot right now against Duran."

As the action spills to the outside with Duran stepping through the ropes and down to the outside area, John leans down and brings Annie to her feet, not keeping Eclectic on her feet for long before chucking her towards the ring steps.

CLANK

"OHH!"

Annie takes the brunt of the blow from the ring steps in between her shoulder blades, and winces in pain.

"You suck!"

A fan in the front row says this unfriendly comment to Duran, and Duran responds with seemingly the only response he knows to his fans--the middle finger. The crowd continues to boo him as he crouches down...

Riley: "...What exactly is Duran doing here?"

Comet: "I don't know, Bobby, but I'm not liking it."

As Annie tries to recover near the ring steps, resting against the ring apron and the cold steel, Duran charges before diving at "The Queen," his shoulder coming straight for the ribs of Annie.

CLANK

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Comet: "HE MISSED!"

Annie dives to the left, avoiding the charging "Sinner" as Duran goes head first into the ring steps. The portion of the crowd that do manage to see it right in front of them wince with sympathy for Duran taking a nasty bump to the head, before turning to cheers.

Riley: "My God! He went to spear Annie into the ring steps even further, and Annie moved! Duran's neck might be broken!"

Comet: "It serves him right!"

Annie gets to her feet after dodging the bullet that was Duran coming straight for her abdomen, bending down and bringing Duran up, though he is fast approaching deadweight status. Eclectic rolls "The Sinner" into the ring and then slides in after him. Annie drags Duran into the middle of the ring and then runs towards the ropes, leaping onto the second rope before flipping backwards through the air, connecting with Duran as the Lionsault finds its mark. The SJL commentator stays on top of "The Sinner" as the ref swings around to count the first pinfall off the match.

ONE...

TWO...

NO!

The crowd finds it hard to believe that Duran managed to get a shoulder up, but he did just the same.

Riley: "The resilience of Duran is shining through! Even after almost breaking his neck, he somehow manages to kick out before the count of three. John Duran truly is a fine specimen, Comet, wouldn't you say?"

Comet: "HE'S EVIL! GAHHHHHHH!"

Annie grabs Duran by his jet-black hair and brings the still dazed and confused Duran up to his feet. Annie walks over, grabbing the chair and bringing it closer to Duran before kicking John in the midsection. Annie puts Duran in a front facelock and then drops down.

CLUNK

The DDT connects, sending John's already vulnerable head into some more cold steel in the form of the folding chair. Duran ends up on his back, holding his neck as it appears that is likely screaming in pain. Duran is in the middle of the ring once again, as Annie goes to the nearest corner before scaling to the top rope.

Riley: "Here come a high-risk maneuver from Annie..."

Comet: "Now THIS will be it!"

Annie flips backwards off the top ropes, hurdling towards Duran, who is on the mat.

BOOMCLANK

Duran is the one who dodges this time, rolling away from the flipping Annie as the moonsault misses its mark. Annie also hits the chair that she had placed under Duran to allow for the DDT to work at John's neck some more, truly an unlucky thing to have happen to her as she rolls to her right, holding her side in pain. Duran is on the other side of the ring, closing in on his corner, where the light tubes rest, just waiting to be used. Duran inches towards them as Annie goes to the opposite corner, trying to alleviate her pain from her fall from grace and onto the chair, which has seen plenty of action in recent moments.

Riley: "This just proves that Duran is the smarter wrestler of the two, Comet! He knew where he was in the ring, and Annie just took a big chance and failed to come through with anything to show for it! I love it!"

Comet: "This match is far from over, Bobby!"

Annie gets up to a knee as Duran reaches out and grabs one of the three light tubes in the corner, raising to his feet and slowly walking over to Annie, who has her back turned to "The Sinner." The crowd doesn't like this turn of events, and tries to warn "The Queen" to turn around and face Duran, to catch him in the act. John cocks the light tube back, looking ready to unload a homerun off the side of Annie's head, but as Duran brings the light tube forward, Annie suddenly turns around with her kendo sword in hand, slamming it against the light tube.

CRINKLECRINKLECRINKLE

The light tube explodes with glass shards flying to the right of Duran and Annie, as the crowd explodes with cheers for Annie, who dodged yet another bullet. Duran is taken by surprise when the light tube explodes in his hand without slamming into Annie's flesh, and Eclectic tries to take advantage of this and jab the kendo sword into John's gut. However, "The Sinner" seems to have had enough, capturing the kendo sword in between his hands and removing it from Annie's grasp, tossing it away from "The Queen" to the boos of the crowd.

Riley: "Aha! What is Annie going to do without her kendo sword now?"

Comet: "Get a strapon?"

Riley: "..."

Duran slams a knee into Annie's face, who is still on her knees, staggering her towards the corner. Duran brings Annie upright, but keeps "The Queen" into the corner, before crouching down and beginning to unload left and right hooks into the bare midriff of Annie, attacking her abdomen with body shot after body shot. After a half-dozen blows to Annie's solarplexes, Duran comes back to a vertical base before grabbing the back of Annie's head and shoving Eclectic down to the mat. The crowd boos in response to this showing of disrespect from "The Sinner," as Duran turns Annie over and goes for the pin, with the ref dropping down to the mat to count the three count.

ONE...

TWO...

THR-NO!

The crowd is given another reason to cheer as Annie manages to get a shoulder up herself, slightly frustrating Duran. Duran doesn't seem to be losing any hope by any means, however, as he goes to the middle of the ring, bending down and calmly picking up the chair.

Comet: "Uh-oh..."

Riley: "There's no telling what Duran is going to do with that chair, but I'm sure the last thing he wants to do is sit in that chair."

Duran showboats to the crowd, letting the crowd, especially those in the front row, know that he is about to bash the chair over the "Hardcore Queen"'s skull, as the femme fatale raises to her feet behind "The Sinner." The crowd is already cheering by the time John turns around to face Annie.

CLANK

"OHHH!"

Duran seemed ready to take a big swing and compress Annie's head into her shoulders, but he didn't even get close to accomplishing that.

Comet: "Annie hits the Drop Kiss! That's beautiful!"

Riley: "No! Duran just caught that chair right in the mouth! That's not fair!"

Comet: "What's important is that this battle has turned into a seesaw contest! I can't pick a winner now, Bobby!"

Riley: "Are you insane? Open your eyes, Comet, you're missing a great match, and Duran's winning it!"

Duran hits the mat facedown in pain, contrary to the ramblings of Riley, as Annie scrambles to her feet. The crowd cheers for the "Angel" as she walks over to approach Duran. At least, that's what it appeared to be, before Annie steps over Duran and goes to the outside of the ring, the crowd beginning to build in volume as the sense what Annie is going for.

Riley: "...What is Annie doing?"

As Annie searches under the ring, she comes out with a table as the crowd lets out a roar, Duran still out in the ring, though showing signs of life after being knocked silly from the Drop Kiss into a chair. Annie moves the table into the ring and then enters the ring herself, setting the table up near one of the corners, but seemingly allowing anyone who wanted to get to that corner to be able to access it with a fair amount of ease. Eclectic then turns her attention to "The Sinner," who is up on one knee. Annie gains enough speed to jump up onto the raised knee, leaping through the air and slamming her knee into Duran's face hard, as Duran lands face up, revealing that his lip is busted open and bleeding, likely from the Drop Kiss. The crowd explodes with cheers as the Shining Wizard connects, and Annie, assured that Duran is likely more than out now, picks Duran up and moves him onto the table.

Riley: "Oh no...don't let her do this to you, Duran...fight it, fight it!"

Comet: "What do you think Annie is going to do, Bobby?"

Riley: "I'm not exactly sure, but I don't think it's going to be pretty."

Annie scales to the top rope in the corner closest to the table, looking down at the prone John Duran laying on the table as cameras are already flashing. Finally, Annie flips forward, falling towards Earth as gravity takes control, extending her leg out...

BOOM

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Duran and Annie crash through the table with AUTHORITY, as even Annie feels some of the effects of the move, the table just shattered from the impact, and in at least a dozen pieces.

"HO - LY SHIT!"

Riley: "A somersault legdrop through the table! This can't be happening!"

Comet: "It's all over, Riley! Your boy is going down!"

Annie rearranges herself so her body is draped across Duran's, as the ref drops to the mat again, the crowd counting along with the pinfall...

ONE...!

TWO...!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SHE DID IT!

...

NO, WAIT, IT'S ONLY A TWO COUNT! TWO!

The ref signals to the timekeeper that Duran JUST managed to get his shoulder up before the count of three, and the crowd boos in disgust that the match isn't over.

Riley: "Phew! Close one there, Johnny."

Comet: "You look like you're beside yourself, Bobby. A little nervous?"

Riley: "Well, John Duran is nowhere NEAR Tom Flesher...Flesher's my boy."

Annie seems in shock that Duran got his shoulder up, as she gets to her feet and calls for the Daybreak. The crowd is still buzzing after the somersault legdrop, and this just riles them up further.

Riley: "Hey, she's going to go for a move similar to that of my former colleague!"

Comet: "I know there is no justice in the world, because I replaced Stevens and not you."

Riley: "Nice one, Superman."

Annie then looks over to Duran's corner; where there are still two light tubes remaining...and appears to get an idea. Annie walks over to the corner and brings the two light tubes in the middle of the ring, as the blood-thirsty crowd cheers "The Queen" on.

Riley: "No, she can't do this! A Daybreak onto light tubes? Duran will lose an eye!"

Annie brings Duran to his feet and then puts Duran between her legs in a standing headscissors, hooking both of the arms.

Riley: "No, no, no!"

Comet: "Hit it, Annie!"

Annie goes to take Duran down with the Daybreak Pedigree, but "The Sinner" uses all the power left in him to lift Annie's frame onto his back and then up and over, hitting a back body drop to get out of the Daybreak, much to the crowd's disgust, as they begin booing once again. Annie is running on pure adrenaline now, however, and she pops right back to her feet, coming after Duran...

AND GETTING A HAND AROUND HER NECK.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Riley: "Chokeslam coming up! Yes!"

Duran lifts Annie up with basically one hand, positioning her over the light tubes...and sending her crashing down to the mat.

Annie slamming down over them muffles the sound of the light tubes shattering.

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The crowd is almost in too much shock to boo, as Annie is dropped straight down onto the remaining two glass tubes. Duran seems very proud of what he has done, as a smug smile crawls across his face, as he calls for the Ultimate Sin.

Riley: "That's it, it's over! This Ultimate Sin will be the final nail in the coffin!"

Comet: "It's a shame it had to end this way. Annie had Duran beat plenty of times, too!"

Riley: "Wah wah wah, Comet, go save a cat from a tree. Wuss."

Duran picks up Annie from the mat and goes behind Eclectic. Duran then proceeds to lock Annie in a full nelson...

Riley: "...Is he...?"

Comet: "I think he is, unfortunately."

Duran goes to lift Annie off the ground for a Full Nelson bomb, but Annie defends herself with a mule kick. The men in the crowd wince and the women cheer as Duran doubles over in pain, trying to fight it off the best he can, but being so caught off the guard from the hard kick from Eclectic. Annie escapes the Full Nelson with ease now that Duran's mind is elsewhere, and runs into the ropes. As she bounds of the ropes, she leaps through the air with her forearm extended. However, she never hits the flying forearm, as Duran captures Annie's arm and goes behind Annie quickly, keeping her on her feet and locking in the Full Nelson, quickly bringing Annie up and down with a Full Nelson bomb.

Riley: "He still hit it! You can't stop him, Annie, don't even try, baby!"

Comet: "Argh...evil cannot prevail!"

Duran immediately leans back and locks on the body scissors, and the ref leans in, asking if Annie quits. The pain that Annie has suffered in her back and feeling the powerful legs of Duran wrapped around her body is enough to make her tap a mere five seconds into the hold.

*DING DING DING*

Riley: "Well, that was a disappointing ending..."

Funyon: "Here is your winner, via submission, JOHN DURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Comet: "Why's that, Bobby?"

Riley: "I was expecting to watch Annie suffer! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Comet: "I don't like this, Bobby. Duran didn't go for the Ultimate Sin like we expected him to. He hit the Break Point and made Annie submit. Could this be a message to Wildchild?"

Riley: "He won't be able to handle Duran, and Duran knows that. A little intimidation never hurt. Now be quiet, Comet. We've got bills to pay."

As Annie mulls over her injuries on the mat, Duran leaves the ring, arm raised in victory once again for "The Sinner" as the cameras fade to commercials.

September 9, 2003

“Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, Citizens!” exclaimed Cyclone Comet as the show returned from commercial break. The crowds were absolutely on fire tonight, screaming at the top of their lungs and displaying thousands of signs! “We are live from the Ford Center in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, and what a great city to be in!”

“So long as a yellow Ryder Truck doesn’t zoom into here!” added Bobby, quite bluntly.

SMACK!

“Northstar, er... I mean, Bobby,” said Comet after smacking Bobby in the back of the head. “don’t you dare follow me from the arena to the hotel tonight. I don’t want to get hit by any stray bullets, or a runaway John Deere for that matter.”

“Moving right along,” said Bobby, rubbing the back of his head. “in just a few moments, Mak Francis will be taking on the challenge of Johnny Dangerous!”

“I’m not sure how much of a challenge that will even be.” Comet added, but before he could say another word, darkness crept over the arena like a Palestinian terrorist across the Israeli border. Just as the crowd curiosity began to stir the beginning lyrics to a song not heard since the Regan Administration ended had the nerve to play itself over the speakers, and terrorize the crowds hearing.

“I’M TOO SEXY FOR MY SHIRT!”

“TOO SEXY FOR MY LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE’S GONE AWAY!”

Lights like one would expect to find inside a downtown nightclub not found in Oklahoma City began to flash, flutter, and strobe throughout the arena as the song rolled on, kicking in it’s little beat, and bringing the crowds to their feet!

To boo that is. If the crowd hatred could be transformed into the heat wave that you would see coming off the tail end of a jet engine, Johnny’s skin would have been vaporized the moment he stepped through the curtains! Not too many people would have wanted to see a skeleton wrestling, unless of course your Janus, so it’s a damn good thing the crowds heckling rolled off of Johnny Dangerous like water off a duck’s back! He stepped out just as smug as he ever could be, his nose stuck in cloud nine.

“Entering first in this contest, scheduled for one fall!” bellowed Funyon as Johnny casually strolled down the ramp, paying no mind to his former fans. “He weighs in at two hundred and seventeen pounds, and comes to us from Las Vegas, Nevada! I give you The Barracuda... JOHHHHHNY DANGEROUUSS!!”

“I’ll say,” began Comet, “this Johnny Dangerous character sure has taken a turn for the worse! He used to be such a well defined Citizen. It’s hard to believe were even looking at the same man here!”

“I think it’s an improvement if you ask me.” said Bobby.

“... but we didn’t ask.”

Johnny slid into the ring as the house lights dimmed once more, with the wispy sounds of a digital xylophone echoing throughout the arena, instantly energizing the fans as they all recognized the introduction as that of Mak Francis, and stood to their feet in anticipation of his arrival on stage.

“On that note,” said Comet, cupping his hand around his eye. “It’s time for me to activate my night vision before Bobby here becomes the Violator!”

They could all feel the pulsation of the light dings as a hard beat done by violins suddenly struck up, just before those familiar words blurted out to the crowds.

“So do you wanna’ be a Francise... and living large... a big house... five cars... ”

Cypress Hill’s opening lyrics to “Rock Superstar” blared from the speakers as the Smarktron sparked to life with a blue and white photonegative image of Mak Francis, quickly proceeded by “The Francise” in large green lettering, flashing on the screen in time with the beat! Armed with a hundred dollar pair of shades, and the SWF ICTV Championship belt slung over his shoulder, Mak Francis slid out from behind the curtains to an deafening cheer, and the thunderous sound of pyrotechnics rocketing past him towards the stratosphere!

“ANNNND his opponent!” said Funyon, trying his hardest to grab some of Mak Francis’ spotlight. “Weighing in at two hundred and thirty six pounds, and hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania... THEEE FRANCIIIIISE! MAAAAAK FRANCIIIIIS!!”

“You know,” said Bobby, quite inquisitively. “I never thought about it before, but how did a black man running around with the name Francis ever survive the mean streets of Philly?”

“With that in mind,” replied Comet, “how did a gay man ever survive wrestling school?”

Flash bulbs exploded from all corners of the arena as Mak Francis strolled down the ramp, his eyes focused entirely on his opponent until he stopped to salute his fans before sliding into the ring.

“It’s good to see Mak Francis here tonight after he was unavailable for Lockdown.” said Comet. “I don’t think our Commissioner was too happy about that one though.”

“Are you kidding?” replied Bobby, “I’m sure King was more than happy to have a Mak Francis free night. As far as Mak’s involvement with the Title Tournament, he’s out like Michael J. Fox in a game of Jinga! He’d better look sharp here tonight if he wants to keep that title in his possession.”

Taking a moment to adjust the leg brace he wore over his left knee, Mak Francis then walked towards the center of the ring on Referee Anthony Michael Hall’s beckon. When the two came together, Hall backed off, calling for the bell to start the match.

DING! DING! DING!

“Here we go!”

Both men circled each other, looking for an open opportunity to seize the first strike and gain the upper hand early on as the last ding of the bell rang out. The crowds were ecstatically cheering and shouting, with a chant for Mak Francis that began to spread.

“I bet you thought you were real cute on Lockdown, Johnny.” said Mak Francis as he cranked his neck to the side, still keeping the circle in motion. Johnny flashed that million dollar smile as his only reply, which served as enough fuel to egg Mak on further.

“Picking on a crippled? He continued. “Why don‘t you try some of that crap with me and see just how far you get?”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” said Johnny, leaning in closer to Mak just to make sure he heard him loud and clear. “After all, judging by your knee, you aren’t that far off... let‘s dance!”

WHACK!!

Johnny swung his right fist out, then quickly drew it back, faking Mak Francis out, and nailing him square in the jaw with the other fist!

“... and this match is underway!” said Bobby, eager to see Johnny in action since turning over a new leaf. “It’ll be a hard fight for Mak Francis to pull a win over the NEW and IMPROVED Johnny Dangerous!”

“That comment leaves more to be desired than a pair of Martha Stewart‘s underwear on EBay, Bobby. This is Mak Francis that your talking about here. It’ll take more than a sucker punch to make the stocks plummet on this Franchise!”

Caught off guard by the punch, Mak stumbled back a few steps with his hand to his lip as he growled angrily. Johnny gave chase, determined to keep the heat on his opponent, but unaware that Mak Francis had one balled up fist locked and loaded, ready to put a dent in Johnny‘s skull the second he came in range.

WHOOSH!

Mak’s fist sliced through the air just as he had planned, but the Barracuda was on the up an up again, ducking the blow, then rising up as the fist went past him, and slinging his foot deep into the Franchise’s gut with a quick snap kick! “Oof!” Dropping to one knee, Mak Francis clenched onto his stomach, desperately gasping for air as Johnny leapt up and locked his legs around Mak’s head--

“Johnny Dangerous just might have a huge upset here!”

WHAM!!

Johnny hammered Mak’s forehead into the canvas with a Guillotine Face Driver, instantly causing the crowds to voice their disapproval! It’s not like Johnny cared what they thought though, replying to them by flicking his fingers across the bottom of his chin made THAT fact crystal clear!

“By Odin’s beard!” cried Comet. “This vile version of Johnny Dangerous has dismantled Mak Francis in record time! A win like this could push the Barracuda over the top, while making the Franchise drop quicker than Amy Craven‘s panties!”

“Told you so.”

Johnny turned his attention back to Mak Francis, looking to make him appear about as worthless as a free pass to Gigili, and rolled the Franchise over, taking his chance at an early pin.

ONE!!

TWO!!!

TH- “NOOOO!!! Kick out just before three!”

Mak was able to save his dignity just as the crowds really began to think the Franchise was out of business - powerfully slinging his arm out and forcefully knocking Johnny off of him!

“Damn!” growled Johnny, slamming his fist into the mat. He pushed himself off the canvas, and popped back up to his feet, eager to get another lick in! Mak was starting to regain his composure, pushing himself off the mat under his own power, but not quick enough for the Secret Agent, who grabbed onto Francis by his chin and slapped on a quick face lock! Johnny targeted the back on Mak’s neck, sending several palm strikes into it as the crowd’s feathers really began to get ruffled at the site of their hero being smacked around like a red headed stepchild, and started up the heckling!

“JOHN-NY SUCKS!”

What started as a few minorities verbally bashing Johnny Dangerous quickly spread across the crowds like wildfire, starting from the nose bleeds and spilling all the way down onto the floor! Never before had the Barracuda heard SUCH an aversion towards him! Shocked, he released the Franchise from his hold as he turned towards the crowds and held out his arms in a “What the hell?” motion, causing them to cut loose with a almighty flurry of boos!

“These crowds are all over Johnny Dangerous like Oprah on a ham sandwich!” remarked Comet. “He can’t possibly think they are going to be on his side after how he left the Wildchild hanging on TOP of what he did to the Hville Thugg!”

“Please, Comet.” Riley countered. “Thugg had it coming to him - trying to pull the wool over King’s eyes, and come in here uninvited! He’s lucky he didn’t run into me, cause I would of whopped him one good!”

“I’d like to see that, Bobby.”

With his back turned towards the crowds, Johnny never noticed Mak Francis rising to his feet from behind like the T-1000. Mak sneered towards the Barracuda while massaging the back of his neck, then slowly stepped forward - the crowd’s interest faded on Johnny as the boos dried up, replaced by an overwhelming cheer. “Eh?!” The look of confusion was cleanly written across the Barracuda’s face. “First they boo, now they che... oh, shit.” You could almost see the light bulb go off as Johnny spun around, and--

-- MAK FRANCIS RUSHED FORWARD AND LET OUT A MIGHTY GROWL AS HE RAMMED HIS KNUCKLES DOWN JOHNNY’S THROAT, TAKING THE BARRACUDA RIGHT OFF HIS ALLIGATOR SKIN CLAD FEET!!

WHAM!!!

“THE FRANCHISE! THE FRANCHISE!” Comet shouted, as he had to if he wanted to be heard over the crowds erupting like Mt. Saint Helens! “Mak Francis is taking the fight straight to Johnny Dangerous, and making a grab for control of this match!”

Johnny spun around on his heels the blow was so strong - stammering forward while holding dearly to his jaw as Mak Francis angrily slung blow after blow into the back of his head!

WHACK!

The last blow ended as Mak shoved Johnny forward, and stumbling into the ropes! Stunned, Johnny haphazardly bounced back, stammering towards the Franchise, but that was good enough for Mak Francis! It’s not like he needed Johnny to be totally functional in order to whoop his sorry ass in the first place. The Franchise snagged Johnny into his grip, then hauled him up, and over - neck first into the mat!

WHAM!

“A belly to belly suplex courtesy of Mak Francis.” said Bobby. “A rather desperate attempt by the Franchise to gain the upper hand.”

“What the?” Comet’s eyes blinked in bewilderment. “Have you been replaced with a Skrull, Bobby Riley? How was THAT desperate?”

“Uh... what’s a Skrull?”

“... never mind.”

Johnny scrambled to get back on his feet, making a mad dash for the Franchise while trying to shake the cob webs loose, but Mak Francis was more than ready for a second encounter - throwing out his forearm he slammed it into Johnny’s neck, sending him back down to the mat! Johnny instantly rolled onto his stomach and AGAIN, scrambled off the mat towards Francis, only to be met by a second clothesline with equal consequences!

WHACK!!

Turning towards the dark side seemingly turned Johnny’s brain off as again Johnny scuttled to his feet, and dashed towards Francis. This time however, Mak hooked his arm around Johnny’s and slung him to the canvas with a Fujiwara Armbar, then jumped up and landed the back of his left leg into Johnny’s neck!

WHAM!!

“Mak Francis is making good use of that knee brace.” said Riley as the lower half of Johnny’s body jolted upward from the impact of the leg drop. “Hopefully using it like that will cause a bone spur in his knee.”

“Your terrible, Bobby!” Comet replied. “All though I will admit using that brace could be considered cheating. I think we’ll be willing to overlook that one since Mak Francis is such a model Citizen. Some times even us hero’s have to bend the rules a little in order to stop the spread of the disease called evil!”

“Overlook?!” snapped Bobby. “What are we going to overlook next? Mak pulling out some brass knuckles from that brace?”

Hoping to capitalize on the moment, Mak quickly heaved himself over Johnny’s torso as Anthony Michael Hall dropped to make the count with the crowds eagerly counting along!

ONEEEE!!

T

W

O

!

THREEEEEEE -- “OH MY GOD NO!!!” Bobby shouted as the crowds let out a mighty groan. “Kick out just before three! See, Comet, Mak’s cheating almost cost Johnny the entire match!”

“I doubt it, Bobby.” Comet replied. “One of my enhanced five senses tells me that it wouldn’t have ended there regardless! And like I said, we are overlooking that altercation like we overlook your flamboyancy.”

Johnny rolled onto his stomach to push himself up, but Mak wasn’t about to give him a chance to stand back up, so he grabbed the Barracuda by the ankle, and ripped him halfway off the mat, then DRILLED his knee into the mat!

WHAM!

With his hand still locked around Johnny’s ankle, Mak then hauled it back over his shoulder with a Single Leg Crab! Johnny pounded his fist into the mat as the pain emulating from his leg really begin to set in, but he wasn’t about to fall this easy! Concentrating as much strength as he could into his leg, Johnny had begun to pull back on his leg, relieving some of the pain while pushing himself off the mat with both hands.

“I don’t think Johnny Dangerous is willing to submit to the Franchise just yet!’ said Comet. “Villains never seem to give up when they need to.”

“Pshaw!” Riley snorted. “Johnny has a very similar move called the Barracuda! He ain’t about to give up to his own tactics!”

Realizing Johnny’s fighting spirit was too strong for a simple crab, Mak released his grip - he didn’t have too good of a hold on Johnny to begin with so this was no casualty to him. Johnny rolled onto his back snickering at Mak Francis after forcing his way out of the submission, but the snickering was soon halted when the Franchise slung the toe of his foot into Dangerous’ skull! The kick stunned Johnny for only a second, but a second was all that was needed as Mak grabbed Johnny’s legs and slapped on a Figure Four Leg Lock much to the joy of the audience!!

“I can‘t believe it!” cried Bobby. “Mak Francis has the iron grip of the Figure Four locked on Johnny Dangerous tighter than my lips around Tom Flesher’s ... ”

“HE’S GONNA TAP!! HE‘S GONNA TAP!!” cried Comet, cutting Bobby off. “THERE’S NO ESCAPE FOR JOHNNY DANGEROUS HERE!”

Pain was an evil little son of a bitch. Johnny tried his hardest to suppress it, gritting down on his teeth and barring down on his knuckles until they were nearly white, but the Franchise wasn’t about to loosen his hold, let alone completely let go. He had Johnny exactly where he wanted him, the crowds completely behind him, and with no chance for an escape it was curtains for the Barracuda!

“TAP, VILLAIN, TAP!!”

“Will you shut up?!”

“Do you give?!” Hall shouted to Johnny, but the stubborn Barracuda shook his head no, refusing to give in despite the pain! Johnny frantically bolted upright, holding himself up with one hand as he slung his fist into Mak Francis! Mak’s head jerked back, yet he kept the hold locked even as punch after desperate punch came sailing into his forehead! Growing tired of the Secret Agent’s antics, Francis jerked back hard on Johnny’s legs, causing a searing pain in his veins, which was evident by the blood-curdled cry escaping through the Barracuda’s lips as he bolted upright! No more... Resistance... was futile. No matter how much Johnny wanted to stay in the fight his brain couldn’t restrain his arm no longer. Slowly, he raised his hand out, and--

NO!! JOHNNY BIT DOWN HARD ON HIS LIP TO GAIN ANOTHER SECOND, AND ROCKETED THE PALM OF HIS HAND INTO MAK’S LEFT KNEE!!

WHACK!!

“DEAR ZEUS!” cried Comet, just as the crowds let out a huge Ooh! “That was certainly a cheap shot if I ever did see one!”

Mak released his hold the moment the surprise strike hit, yelping in pain! Grabbing onto his knee he moaned, and groaned, rolling from side to side! He had managed to shield his knee from attack thus far, but the power of a Shotei Palmstrike was enough to inflict some serious damage... and some serious pain!

“Whew!” sighed Riley, wiping the sweat from his brow. “For a second there I almost thought he was a goner, and I’m sure he’s glad to be free of that leg lock! This just proves the technical aspect of Johnny Dangerous as more than a simple brawler. He may throw a lot of punches, but he lands them in some juicy spots! He‘s completely devastated Mak Francis’ leg with one move!”

“The Franchise’s leg is in no worse of a condition than Johnny’s!” Comet was quick to point out. Johnny had pulled himself up by the ropes, but the moment he stepped forward his leg gave out. He would be more careful the next time, making sure to not put as much weight on that leg. “I might even say Johnny’s is worse off, in fact, I know it is! All Johnny has bought here is some time!”

“... and that may be all he needs.”

Mak cringed in pain, finally rolling onto his stomach to try and crawl back to his feet. “Are you alright? the Referee asked. “Do you need me to end the match?”

“NO!” Mak answered, it would be a cold day in hell before he EVER gave up to Johnny Dangerous! With sheer determination Mak reached out and grabbed onto the bottom rope, pulled himself up until he could reach the second, then the third, until finally he was back on his feet, however shakily!

Johnny hobbled in from behind, quickly hooking his arms under Mak’s with a full nelson before the Franchise could even react! Yes indeed, Johnny had him trapped in his claws of DEATH! Forced to bend forward by the pressure, and excruciating pain from his neck as Johnny pressed his palms deep into the back of it all Mak Francis could do was cry out in pain!

“You wanted to know how far I’d get with you, Mak?!” Johnny screamed in his ear with a sadistic grin, still holding onto Mak from behind. He put all his weight on his good leg, then jammed his free foot into the side of Mak’s leg, causing it to half way buckle then ripped him back up on his feet. “Let it be known...”

“ ... This Franchise... ”

“ ... is CLOSED!”

Johnny’s last words barely managed to find their way to Mak, before the Barracuda leapt up and dropped his right knee into the top of Francis’ back, rocketing Mak forward, and driving his skull deep into the canvas!

WHHAAAAAM!!!

Johnny rolled off of Mak the second he hit, allowing his head to ricochet off the canvas, and his body to flop over onto his back!

“What in the heck was that?” a baffled Bobby asked.

“Um... well I guess it was a Full Nelson into a face driver aided by Johnny’s Al Roaker like weight on top! That must have been his Hidden Agenda!”

“Pulease.” scoffed Bobby. “Al Roaker has about a three hundred pound advantage over Johnny. I think you might want to have your “Super Enhanced” eyesight looked at, my dear Comet!”

“Their fine.” replied Comet, shaking his head. “They just saw thirty years too soon.”

“... Oh... ”

Anyway. The crowds gasped in utter horror as their hero looked like he had finally fallen. Fallen to the cheap sucker tactics of the Barracuda. They heckled and jeered hoping to distract Johnny, but the Secret Agent kept to his mission. He hooked his arm under Mak’s leg and reared back on it, firmly planting Francis’ shoulders to the mat as the Referee dropped to make the count... without the audience’s help.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

DING! DING! DING!

“This match is over!” exclaimed Bobby as the painful sound of Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy” began to pump across the arena. “Johnny’s new found philosophy has propelled him to greatness as we have seen here in tonight’s demonstration, to bad it wasn‘t for Mak’s title!”

“Indeed Johnny Dangerous has managed to pull out a win tonight.” Comet added. “Tonight is only one night though. Let’s hope this vile little tirade of his doesn’t continue onto Storm, or the might of the Suicide King’s army could strengthen!”

Hall, the match’s Referee, slid back into the ring with the SWF ICTV title in hand, and draped it across Mak Francis’ chest. Grabbing onto Johnny as he walked towards him, the Referee thrusts his arm into the air in victory, while the crowds spat on him with a tremendous boo!

“Oh no,” cried Comet. “What’s Sacred doing out here, and what’s his interest?”

On the top of the ramp, the “Sacred One”, Andrew Blackwell had emerged. He nodded his head, smiling. He seemed obviously pleased at the outcome of this match, and tonight he needed to add nothing more to this.

“Something tells me Johnny Dangerous is not the reason he’s out here right now.” replied Bobby.

The scene had faded to commercial, showing a last haunting image of Blackwell’s smiling mug before doing so as Bobby Riley called out: “We’ll be right back!”

September 9, 2003

“Sacred!” shouts Mak, as he attempts to run through the corridor, clearly breathing heavily and holding his head, from being knocked loopy by Johnny Dangerous. “Sacred!” yells Francis again, trying to catch up to the slowly walking Andrew Blackwell, hands clasped behind his back, in a perfect, dignified posture. Mak quickens his pace, but suddenly Blackwell stops on his heels. Francis thankfully is able to slow down, and blink away the headache he’s beginning to get, while still shaking the cobwebs off.

“Hey, Sacred, what the hell are you up to. First that weird tape, then I find out that you cancelled the triple threat. That doesn’t make any sense and King’s answers were making less sense than that, if that’s even possible. You care to explain any of this to me?!”

"Well,” says Blackwell, pausing to choose his words. He unclasps his hands and strokes his chin, as he turns around to face the Franchise, “your name came up, Mr. Francis…”

This puzzles Mak even more. “My name came up? Okay, what the hell does that mean? And why did you come out on ramp during my match with Dangerous?”

Andrew simply nods his head and turns, regaining his posture, and preparing to walk away, but then stops. This confuses Francis even more so. “Be aware, young Master Francis, for while nobody expects it,” Blackwell pauses, “the inquisition… IS ON!” finishes Sacred practically snarling the last two words. Blackwell paces away, leaving the Franchise to gape and wonder if he should press the issue. Finally, as ‘the Sacred One’ rounds the corner, Mak can only shake his head.

“I swear this is the most confusing day…”

September 9, 2003

FADE IN

“Coming up next, true believers,” says the inimitable Cyclone Comet, “we shall all be treated to a sensational exhibition of acrobatics, as the Wildchild makes his long-awaited return to the ring, as he defends his Hardcore Championship Belt against Xcalibur!

“Xcalibur has a chance to get his hands on some gold here tonight,” adds Bobby Riley, “but, in order to do that, he’s going to have to get the better of someone who has established himself as a player in the Hardcore Division. Now, that might not be too hard by itself, but since falling under Ejiro’s tutelage, Wildchild appears to have begun to tap into his potential as a wrestler!”

Comet ignores Riley’s last statement. “I don’t know about you, Citizen Riley, but I’ve been looking forward to this match all evening! I’ve heard such wonderful things about Wildchild’s wrestling style, but since making my return to the SWF, I haven’t had a chance to see him in action, aside from that so-called ‘exhibition,’ where that diabolical fiend, Ejiro Fasaki, made him wrestle in a manner unbecoming of his personality!”

“I wouldn’t set my hopes to high for a high-flying affair if I were you, Comet,” replies Riley. “Wildchild works for Ejiro, now, and he has to do whatever Ejiro tells him. Which means, if Ejiro tells him to wrestle on the mat, that’s what he’s going to have to do!”

“Don’t be too sure about that, Citizen Riley,” responds Comet. “After all, Wildchild’s Hardcore Title is on the line here, and if he doesn’t feel that mat wrestling is getting it done, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see Wildchild go back to what he does best.”

“If he tries, he’s going to be in hot water with Ejiro,” warns Riley.

Comet shrugs in response. “Well, as any superhero will tell you, when dealing with the authorities, sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.”

Before Bobby can reply, the Ford Center begins to echo with the sound of “Stupid Girl,” by Cold. A gold pyrotechnic shower descends from the rafters as the Houston Hurricane steps from behind the curtain.

“And here comes the Xcalibur,” states Riley. “He’s certainly looking focused out here tonight, you have to believe he’s serious about coming away from this match with some gold.”

“I’m not too sure how well he’ll adapt to the stipulations, though, Citizen Riley,” replies Comet, as Xcalibur heads down the ramp towards the ring. “Citizen Xcalibur isn’t exactly reputed to excel at the Hardcore style.”

“That definitely works in favor of Wildchild,” agrees Riley, as he turns to face the camera. “Ordinarily, I’d be hoping to see Xcalibur win in this match, but I’m such a big fan of Ejiro, I’m anxious to see just how much influence he’s been able to have on the kid!”

Inside the ring, Funyon raises the microphone to his lips, saying, “The following contest, scheduled for one fall, is for the SWF Hardcore Championship! Making his way to the ring at this time is the Challenger! From Houston, Texas, weighing two hundred thirty-six and two-fifths of a pound, EEEEEEX-CAAAAAAAALIBUUUUUUR!” Xcalibur rolls underneath the bottom rope and scrambles to his feet, barely acknowledging the crowd as he adjusts his trunks.

“Well, Xcalibur certainly looks prepared to walk out of Oklahoma with the Hardcore Title,” says Cyclone Comet, as Xcalibur’s music fades out. “Let’s find out if tonight is his night!”

The crowd in the Ford Center begins to cheer loudly as Smashing Pumpkins’ “The Everlasting Gaze” begins to blast through the speakers, but…

“CUT THAT MUSIC! CUT IT RIGHT NOW!”

Thirteen thousand fans are stunned into silence as the shrill voice of the SWF United States Champion, Ejiro Fasaki, bleats sharply throughout the arena, cutting off Wildchild’s music. Their silence quickly grows into boos as Ejiro steps out onto the stage.

“I say,” roars Comet, “what is that fiend doing out here?”

“I’d say he has a right to be out here,” replies Bobby. “After all, his protégé is about to square off in the ring!”

“Apparently, you fellows in the production truck didn’t get the memo, but Wildchild is no longer authorized to come down to the ring to that song any more.” Ejiro’s features break into a sly grin as he turns to face the audience. “I’m afraid that those of you who may have been hoping for a cheap excuse to jump out of your seats and act like drunken savages from… well, from Oklahoma…”

FU FASAKI!

“… Will just have to get your jollies elsewhere, like in tonight’s main event, where you’re sure to see the finest display of wrestling technique ever to grace this state. Now, without further ado, hit the music!”

With that, Biohazard’s “Sellout” begins to rumble throughout the arena. Ejiro stands off to the side and administers a mock golf clap as Wildchild steps out from behind the curtain, dressed, as has become his recent custom, in a Justice and Rule football jersey, to go along with black jump pants, and a pair of black Tae Kwon Do foot pads. His normally free-flowing braids are tied together in a ponytail, and face, usually painted in the national colors of his native Bahamas, is now adorned by the red, white and blue.

“Look at that,” says Bobby reverently. “Doesn’t that site just fill your mind with visions of mom and apple pie?”

“While I am as patriotic as the next man, Citizen Riley,” replies Comet, “I must protest to this vile treatment of Citizen Wildchild! It is not the policy of our great nation to oppress our neighbors!”

“And, accompanied by the United States Champion, Ejiro Fasaki,” continues Funyon, “Is the his opponent! From the Bahamas, weighing two hundred fourteen pounds, he is the SWF Hardcore Champion! The WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”

Wildchild shuffles down towards the ring reluctantly, with Ejiro in tow. As he makes his way down the ramp, an eager young fan reaches out to touch him. Wildchild reaches towards the fan…

SMACK!

… But Ejiro slaps his hand away! The young fan runs back to his dad in tears as Ejiro orders Wildchild to continue on down to the ring.

“That was unconscionable,” roars Comet, as he rises from his seat. “This cad Ejiro is nothing but a bully, and he should get what’s coming to him!”

Riley places a hand on Comet’s shoulder and eases him back into his seat. “This isn’t the time, Comet; this isn’t the place. And you aren’t the guy…”

Wildchild hands the flag to an attendant as he reaches the ringside area and begins to somersault into the ring, but Ejiro cuts him off, directing him instead to walk up the stairs and step between the ropes.

Cyclone Comet shakes his head. “This is deplorable! Ejiro is trying to deprive Wildchild of his individuality! His very uniqueness!”

“Hey, pal,” retorts Riley. “Face facts: his ‘uniqueness’ wasn’t getting him anywhere! Ejiro’s the best thing that ever happened to him!”

After entering the ring, Wildchild removes the Hardcore Title from his waist and hands it to the referee, but before he can proceed further towards the center of the ring, Ejiro grabs him by the heel. Wheeling around savagely, Wildchild barks out “What do you want?”

Ejiro stares back at his protégé, an expression of mock innocence on his face. “I just wanted to tell you…”

WHACK!

Unwilling to wait any longer, Xcalibur charges from across the ring, attacking Wildchild from behind with a double axe-handle blow to the back!

“… Good luck,” concludes Ejiro with a smirk on his face.

DING! DING! DING!

The referee motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match. Xcalibur pushes Wildchild’s back against the ropes and smashes him repeatedly in the chest with clubbing forearm blows. He grabs Wildchild by the arm and whips him towards the opposite side of the ring, spinning around sharply on his heel and whipping his leg through the air to deliver a roundhouse kick, but the Bahama Bomber ducks underneath and races towards the opposite side, where he bounds off the ropes with alarming speed…

SPLASH!

… And topples Xcalibur with a cross-body press! Wildchild hooks his opponent’s leg as they crash against the canvas, and the referee counts the pinfall attempt.

ONE!

TW—

KICKOUT!

“Xcalibur kicks out with no difficulty at the count of two,” notes Riley. “And both men get back to a vertical base as… hey hey hey!” Riley stops in mid-sentence and rises to his feet as Ejiro makes his way over to the announce table. “Comet, it looks like we’re in for a treat!”

“Well, I don’t know if I would go so far as to call this a treat, Citizen Riley,” replies Comet, “but, it does indeed appear as though we are about to be joined at the announce table by the United States Champion, Ejiro Fasaki!”

“Stand up, Comet,” Riley stage whispers as he tugs on Comet’s shoulder. “We’re in the presence of brilliance!”

“Unhand my cape, you lout,” barks Comet. “Stop salivating, and focus on the match at hand!”

Back in the ring, Wildchild ducks behind Xcalibur as the Houston Hurricane charges towards him, wrapping his arms around his waist in a go-behind waistlock. Xcalibur struggles briefly with Wildchild’s arm, breaking the Bahama Bomber’s grip before reversing the waistlock. Wildchild attempts to free himself from the waistlock, but is unable to loosen Xcalibur’s grip. The Houston Hurricane lifts Wildchild off the ground and begins to pivot on his heel in order to mash his opponent’s face into the canvas via a waistlock takedown, but the Caribbean Cruiser swings his legs behind him and tucks his upper body forward, surprising Xcalibur with a modified Victory Roll!

ONE!

TWO!

THR— KICKOUT!

“I have to tell you, Champ,” says Riley, “you’re a miracle worker! It’s amazing how much it looks like Wildchild has learned from you in just a short amount of weeks!”

“Why, thank you, Bobby,” replies Ejiro, as both combatants get to their feet inside the ring. “God knows I’ve had my hands full with trying to teach Wildchild the subtleties of mat wrestling, but I know that in the end, he’ll thank me for it!”

Xcalibur rushes towards Wildchild, and the Bahama Bomber reacts by leapfrogging over him, bouncing back into the air as soon as his feet touch the canvas, and flipping backwards to deliver a backflip kick, but Xcalibur uses the top rope to bring himself to a stop, leaving Wildchild to crash face-first into the mat…

BAM!

… And follows it up with a running elbow drop to the back of his head! Xcalibur presses his advantage by reaching his arm over and around Wildchild’s head, and underneath his chin, cinching in a side headlock. Wildchild pulls himself to his feet and leads Xcalibur over to the ropes, pushing him off to break the headlock and sending him to the opposite end of the ring, but Xcalibur comes storming back and plows into Wildchild, knocking him flat on his back with a running shoulder tackle.

“Wildchild didn’t exactly utilize solid wrestling fundamentals to free himself from that headlock, Citizen Ejiro,” says Comet. “It would appear that your lessons were incomplete.”

“Patience, my dear deluded friend,” replies Ejiro calmly. “Wildchild has Xcalibur right where he wants him right now.”

Xcalibur races back towards the ropes as Wildchild rolls to his feet, and the Bahama Bomber drops back down towards the mat as Xcalibur rebounds, allowing the challenger to run right over the top of him. Wildchild springs back to his feet as Xcalibur returns from the ropes a second time and swings his arm upwards in a hooking manner, snaring Xcalibur underneath the arm and arching backwards, taking the Houstonian over with a Japanese-style armdrag! Wildchild maintains control of Xcalibur’s arm as he rolls through the maneuver, cinching the challenger into an armbar.

“You see that,” crows Ejiro proudly. “I take full credit for that! I taught him how to do that!”

Xcalibur rolls to his knees and reaches across his body with his free arm, grabbing Wildchild’s face and pulling away sharply, stunning the Caribbean Cruiser with an eye rake!

WHAM!

As Wildchild is bent over, Xcalibur wraps his arms around his waist and jerks him off the canvas, flipping him overhead and driving him back down onto his outstretched knee!

“Egad,” shouts Comet. “That dastardly Xcalibur just lifted Wildchild over head for a powerbomb, only to turn it into a backbreaker!”

Ejiro responds with a shrug. “It happens sometimes, I guess. It’ll be good for Wildchild, though, to take a few lumps in this match; it builds character.”

“Xcalibur is headed outside the ring,” reports Comet, “and it looks as though he is going to be the first competitor to introduce hardcore implements into this match!”

“Speaking of character, Ejiro,” interrupts Riley, “I can’t help but notice that Wildchild continues to give you a hard time about eliminating his high-risk offense.”

“Indeed,” chimes in Comet. “Despite your dastardly attempts to break Citizen Wildchild’s spirit, the plucky young Caribbean continues to defy you! What say thee to that, foul knave?” Meanwhile, Xcalibur tosses a steel chair into the ring, and then reaches back underneath the ring apron to retrieve a folded wooden table, which he also slides into the ring.

“First of all,” replies Ejiro, “he’ll come around; it’s only a matter of time before he realizes that the advice I’m offering him for free is the best advice he’ll ever receive in this business.”

CLANG!

Xcalibur retrieves a garbage can from underneath the ring and prepares to roll it into the ring, but Wildchild bounces back to his feet and races towards the edge of the ring, diving feet-first at the ring apron, and smashing the garbage can into Xcalibur’s face with a running dropkick! The challenger stumbles backwards into the ring barricade and Wildchild rolls to his feet, bouncing up and down excitedly to help get the crowd into his match. Wildchild runs towards the nearby corner and leaps onto the top turnbuckle as Xcalibur attempts to regain his wits outside the ring…

WHAM!

… And leaps off, diving outside of the ring and landing in a seated position on Xcalibur’s shoulders, locking his legs behind the challenger’s neck and arching his back as he spins around, ripping Xcalibur through the air with a spectacular top-rope Dragonrana to the outside of the ring!

HOLY SHIT!

“Holy Death-Defying Leaps,” exclaims Comet. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a hurricanrana variation quite like that!”

“And secondly,” says Ejiro, “getting back to our previous conversation, I don’t necessarily want Wildchild to quit taking advantage of his speed and agility; I just think he’s wasting his life unnecessarily by risking death or serious injury every time he tries something stupid, like he just did!”

Ejiro pats the United States Title belt hanging over his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, even I’ve taken risks before in the past; winning this championship was not without some fairly dangerous risks. But, there’s a time and a place for high-risk attacks. Wildchild’s trouble is that he likes to do high-risk for the sake of doing high risk.”

CLANG!

Wildchild lifts Xcalibur up and whips him across the arena floor, but Xcalibur reverses, sending the Bahama Bomber crashing shoulder-first into the steel stairs! Xcalibur picks Wildchild off the ground and rolls into the ring underneath the bottom rope, and then remains outside the ring for a few seconds to catch his breath, before sliding in himself.

“Could this be the opening that the dastardly Xcalibur needs,” Comet wonders aloud.

Ejiro looks at Riley with an incredulous expression. “Is he always like this?”

Bobby hangs his head in response. “Unfortunately, yes. Yes, he is…”

WHACK!

The second he gets back to his feet inside the ring, Xcalibur grabs the steel chair and walks over to Wildchild, raising it above his head with both hands and bringing it smashing down into his back! Wildchild falls back to the mat, as Xcalibur heads over to the corner, where he picks the table up off the mat.

“What sort of diabolical plot does that fiend have in store for Wildchild,” moans Comet, as Xcalibur leans the table up against the corner.

“He’s trying to take the fight to Wildchild, and I honestly don’t think you can blame him,” replies Riley.

Xcalibur drags Wildchild over to the corner and lifts him up off the ground, leaning him against the table in the corner. He then walks away to the opposite side of the ring, where the fans in the Ford Center boo him as he prepares to charge across the ring.

“Looks like Xcalibur’s going to try and put Wildchild through that table with his running dropkick,” say Riley. “If he hits this, we could be looking at a new champion!”

Xcalibur races towards the corner, leaping into the air as he closes in on his target, but Wildchild dives off the table and out of the way! The challenger manages to stop himself from crashing into the table, spreading his legs apart so that his feet land on the ropes instead, and flips backwards off the ropes back into the ring…

WHAM!

… Where he is caught from behind by the Wildchild with a devastating Bulldog!

“He did it,” exclaims Comet. “He struck down that fiend with a Bulldog of Power~!”

Ejiro looks at Comet, and then at Riley, who only shrugs, as if to say, “what do you want me to do?”

The Oklahoma crowd erupts as Wildchild springs to his feet and spins his hands above his head, the sign for his patented Falling Star Press.

“My Cyclone-senses detect a Falling Star Press coming,” says Comet. “Wildchild shall smite Xcalibur with divine RIGHTEOUSNESS!”

Wildchild races towards the edge of the ring and leaps onto the top rope, springing backwards as he flips forward to crash into his opponent with his aerial finisher…

CRASH!

… But he eats the canvas instead, as Xcalibur rolls out of the way, instead!

“That’s just what I’m talking about,” says Ejiro. “He had Xcalibur dead to rights after that bulldog, but instead of trying to put him away, he just had to try and show off.”

WHAM!

As Wildchild struggles to get to his feet, Xcalibur sneaks up besides him, draping his leg over the Hardcore Champion’s neck and grabbing him by the wrist as he twists his body towards the canvas, wrenching Wildchild’s neck as he drives him into the mat!

“Hurricane,” shouts Riley. “Houston Hurricane! We could be looking at a new champion right here!”

Ejiro shakes his head. “If that happens, Wildchild will have no one to blame but himself. He was doing just fine with the wrestling I taught him, but then he had to screw himself up by being all out of control.”

Xcalibur crawls over to the ropes and pulls himself to his feet. He walks over to the far corner and retrieves the table, which he unfolds and sets up near the corner.

“What could that scoundrel be up to,” ponders Comet, as Xcalibur drags Wildchild over towards the table.

“I’ll tell you what he’s up to,” Bobby replies, as Xcalibur lifts Wildchild off the canvas and lays him flat across the table. “He’s about to be up to planting Wildchild through that table!”

Xcalibur steps out onto the ring apron and walks to the corner, where he climbs onto the top turnbuckle. Looking out to the crowd, he slaps his leg to indicate his imminent attack.

“Oh no,” shouts Comet. “Xcalibur is going to strike down Wildchild with the Shooting Star Legdrop… of DOOOOOOM!”

Xcalibur leaps off the turnbuckle high into the air, tucking his knees to his chest as he flips forward through the air, and then extending his right leg to finish Wildchild with his Shooting Star Legdrop…

CRASH!

… But the Hardcore Champion rolls off the table, leaving Xcalibur to crash into it!

HOLY SHIT!

“He missed,” shouts Comet. “Wildchild managed to evade that dastardly maneuver!”

“Who do you think will manage to pull this match out, Champ,” Bobby asks Ejiro.

“Well, honestly,” replies Ejiro, “this Hardcore Championship is impeding my tutoring of Wildchild. He’s finally starting to show signs of his potential, but as you can see, the savage nature of this style of match has caused him to revert to the reckless style that he’s more familiar with, much to my dismay.”

“Speaking of technical wrestling,” says Bobby as Wildchild struggles to his feet, “can you tell the fans watching around the world what they can look forward to in tonight’s main event?”

“All I can tell you is that everyone in this arena and watching at home will be treated to the finest display of technical wrestling that they have ever had the grace to witness.”

“Any truth to the rumor that there’s been friction between you and Judge Hearford since this match was announced?”

Ejiro stiffened, but otherwise displayed no signs of discomfort. “None whatsoever. William and I each understand where the other is coming from; we both realize that the World Title is our ultimate goal in this business, and he knows that he’s going to get my best, just as I expect to get his best. And, when it’s all over, no matter who comes away victorious, Justice and Rule will be just as strong as it ever was!”

Back inside the ring, Wildchild drags Xcalibur away from the table and pulls him off the canvas, trapping him in a front facelock and lifting him off the mat, spinning around before falling backwards, driving the challenger into the canvas parallel to the ropes with a corkscrew vertical suplex! Rolling onto his knees, Wildchild grabs the nearby chair as he stand up with a flourish, holding it high above his head as the crowd cheers.

“And what, pray tell,” asks Comet, “do you intend to do to about Wildchild’s insistence upon defying you in your attempts to break his spirit?”

Pointing towards the corner, Wildchild, chair in hand, runs toward it, leaping onto the top turnbuckle, where he springs back off without hesitation. Clutching the steel chair close to his chest as he spins around, the Bahama Bomber directs his body towards the ropes, where he lands with his back facing the ring in a seated position on the top rope, and bounces backwards…

WHAM!

… Flipping into the ring as he crashes into Xcalibur’s chest with a chair-assisted springboard moonsault!

“Springboard moonsault of JUSTICE,” exclaims Comet. “That should do it!”

“As far as my influence on Wildchild, the biggest obstacle in Wildchild’s learning process is that Hardcore Title, so let’s just say that I’ve made arrangements to relieve myself of that particular problem.”

Discarding the chair, Wildchild crawls atop Xcalibur and reaches over to hook the leg as the referee drops down to the canvas to deliver the three count:

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEE—

“No,” shouts Riley. “Xcalibur kicks out at the last second! Wildchild’s going to have to do better than that to put the challenger away… wait a second! Comet, do you see what I see?”

The crowd in the Ford Center begins to boo as they suddenly notice “The Sinner” John Duran jogging down to ringside. “Indeed, Citizen Riley,” replies Comet. “It’s that scoundrel John Duran! What business does he have in this match?”

“Well, he obviously is still holding a grudge over Wildchild costing him a chance to advance in the World Title tournament... Wait just a moment! Ejiro, does this have anything to do with what you, Duran and King were talking about in his office earlier today?”

Ejiro nods, a malicious grin on his face. “Consider this a concession granted to Duran in exchange for postponing his match until Storm.” Ejiro begins to remove his headset as he stands up. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have some more preparations to make before my match.” And, with that, Ejiro departs from the ringside area, acknowledging Duran with a curt nod as he head back up the ramp.

Wildchild rolls onto his back, oblivious to what’s going outside the ring, and nips up to his feet, raising his hands above his head and bringing them down in a clutching motion towards his chest as the crowd erupts.

“That’s the sign for the Wild Ride,” notes Comet. “Nobody gets up from this!”

The Bahama Bomber pulls Xcalibur to his feet and stands in front of him, hooking his arms underneath the challengers. Before he can begin to spin around, however, Duran leaps onto the ring apron, grabbing his attention. Distracted, Wildchild releases Xcalibur and walks over towards the edge of the ring, where he confronts Duran. The two exchange words, and The Sinner pushes Wildchild away from him with both hands. The Tropical Tumbler charges towards him in retaliation, swinging his arm wildly, but Duran leans backwards out of his range. Wildchild’s fist whiffs through the air, and his momentum causes him to spin around, allowing Duran to grab him from behind and trap him in a full nelson.

“It’s a setup,” roars Comet. “This must have been Ejiro’s plan; to have Duran cost Wildchild the Hardcore Title!”

“Well,” replies Riley as Xcalibur gets back to his feet, “once Wildchild loses the Hardcore Title, he’ll no longer have any excuse to continue to wrestle using his reckless style, and then Ejiro can completely re-mold him in his image!”

Picking the chair up off the canvas, Xcalibur races towards the edge of the ring, swinging wildly to obliterate the Hardcore Champion…

CRACK!

… But the Bahama Bomber wriggles free of Duran’s grip and dives out of the way at the last possible second, causing Xcalibur to smash The Sinner in the face with the chair, sending him tumbling off the ring apron and to the floor below!

“Backfire,” crows Comet. “The scoundrel missed!”

Dropping the chair on the canvas in alarm, Xcalibur fails to notice Wildchild as he scrambles to his feet and races towards the corner, leaping onto the top turnbuckle…

BANG!

… And springing back off, diving towards Xcalibur’s head and snaring him in a front facelock as he spins around, driving the challenger’s face into the discarded steel chair with a jaw-dropping Jump Swinging DDT!

“Swinging DDT of RIGHTEOUSNESS,” exclaims Comet. “That’s going to do it!”

Wildchild rolls over Xcalibur’s body and hooks the leg as the referee dives into position to assess the pinfall:

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEE!

DING! DING! DING!

“Sellout” begins to blast through the speakers once again, as Wildchild rolls over onto his back. He sits up in discomfort as the referee holds his hand aloft in victory.

“The winner of this match,” proclaims Funyon, “and STILL SWF Hardcore Champion, the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”

“Wildchild successfully defends his title in another spectacular match,” says Comet. “Stay tuned, true believers, for more exciting SWF action, after this!”

As we:

FADE OUT

September 9, 2003

Smarkdown returns to a raucous crowd standing strong and making tons of noise. Backstage, however, the crowd is drowned out by a group of wrestlers standing around having what appears to be a heated conversation.

Let’s take a closer look…

(Francis) – Please tell me he’s joking Thugg…he’s gotta be joking.

(HVT) – Yo…don’t…

(Francis) – Seriously Thugg! There’s no way you’re working with him, right? I mean…you even said…

(HVT) – I know what I…

(Annie) – Come on guys…this is Thugg. He wouldn’t go work for King. Would you Thugg?

(Francis) – He did it before! Do I even need to mention the IGNWO?

(HVT) – Yo…stop trippin’. Damn! Y’all know I ain’t workin’ for no damn King. I got it under control, for real.

(Annie) – But Thugg? What about everything we talked about? What about the coalition? What about the cause?

(HVT) – Damn yo! I know what I’m doin’. I can’t just walk up and beat the shit outta King, ya know. I gotta try to outsmart him…and that’s what I’m doing. I gotta plan…don’t worry about it.

(Annie) – What’s the plan? Need our help?

(HVT) – Don’t worry about all that. I got it all taken care of…y’all just do your thang.

(Francis) – We wanna help Thugg. Tell us what we need to do.

(HVT) – Yo! I said don’t worry about it. I got it covered…I wouldn’t join King if I didn’t have a good ass plan in place.

Francis and Annie look at each other…

(Francis) – Ok then…I guess we’ll go then.

(Annie) – Yeah…you know where to find us if you need us.

(HVT) – No doubt…

Annie and Mak exit, leaving only Thugg and Strangler alone. As they move out of site, Thugg dips his chin and lets his head hang…

(TBS) – Everything alright man?

(HVT) – I got nothing yo. Nothing at all…I just agreed to join King so I could buy some time. I figured I’d come up with something…but I ain’t got shit!

(TBS) – Geez man…I don’t know what to tell ya. We all appreciate that you’re sticking around and willing to put yourself out like this, even though not all of us show it.

(HVT) – I know, I know…but yo. I don’t know how this is gonna turn out…I really don’t brah…I ain’t got shit. I mean…

(TBS) – I know you’ll think of something man…it’ll all work out. And you know I got your back.

(HVT) – True, true…I hope so cuz. I can’t work for King…you know that shit!

(TBS) – I know…we’ll figure out a way to make this work.

(HVT) – Yeah…we will. I just need to go somewhere and think. Clear my head and shit…I know I can figure this out if I can just get away from everyone.

(TBS) – Well…do that…I gotta go get ready for my match.

(HVT) – Aight playa…holla.

(TBS) – Later man.

Strangler exits the screen, leaving Thugg alone with his thoughts. What to do? Has he signed a deal with the devil himself? Is it worth all this? Can he make a difference? Or should he just leave?

Fade to commercial.

September 9, 2003

The cameras fade in to the locker room backstage where The Unholy Trinity‘s impressive and tag team, “The Maori Badass” Va’aiga and Dace “Horrocore” Night. Dace has the distant glazed look of pure focused energy in his eyes, and the confident grin that crosses Va’aiga’s face in those few precious moments the big Maori isn’t pissed off with someone, gleams with confidence.

Dace: Tonight we get revenge! Quiz. Show. They’re going DOWN!

Va’aiga: It’s on like pastrami on rye. OC better know, there’s some VIOLENCE going down tonight.

Into the room walks the unmistakeable, bulked up, ripped, cut, chiselled form of YOUR SWF World Heavyweight Champion, the one, the only Boston Strangler. Strangler turns to the two fellow wrestlers and addresses them.

Strangler: You ready for tonight guys?

Va’aiga: Trinity Style, Strangler, We ALWAYS ready. Are you ready to whup Tom Flesher’s sorry Mag 7 ass?

Streangler: Yeah.

Va’aiga: You don’t get me. Are you ready to bust Tom Flesher’s face up so bad he has to pawn off the Mag 7 limo to pay for getting’ his looks fixed up?

Strangler: Yeah!

Va’aiga: Are you ready to Massacre some shit down so hard they tastin’ their own tailbone…

Strangler: Yeah!!

Va’aiga: Are you ready for…

Va’aiga pushes Strangler in the chest

Va’aiga: … VIOLENCE!

Strangler: YEAH! ARE YOU READY FOR VIOLENCE?

Strangler pushes Va’aiga in the chest

Va’aiga: YEAH!

Dace: Time to do this guys…

Strangler: Come on!

Va’aiga: BOO-YAH!

The troika of SWF superstars leave the dressing room and start the long walk down the corridor to the entranceway.

September 9, 2003

The camera cuts back from commercials to the masked face of Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley, ready for the next match of the evening.

Comet: Well come back citizens across the world, watching this glorious SWF television board cast this fine honourable evening.

Riley: A simple welcome back might work you know Comet. Maybe even pimp the next match, so we keep some viewers.

Comet: In that cause, now we're got a six man tag match on a grand scale, featuring our great World Champion and an honourable tag team against the dastardly team of the number one contender and the Tag Team Champions.

Riley: Something like that, yes.....

Funyon steps into the ring, house mike in hand, read to being the competitors down to the ring.

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be a Six Man Tag Team Match for One Fall...

Funyon: Introducing firstly, from Studio Three Bee, weighing in at four hundred and eighty eight pounds ... DOUBLE JEOPARDY!

QUIZ! SHOW! COME ON DOWN!

BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Come On Down kicks into life, as the Wheel Of Fortune on the Smarktron spins back to revel the words Double Jeopardy and the two studio doors slide back to make way for the badly dressed duo of Quiz and Show, mikes in hand.

Quiz: We're very lucky tonight, to have with us a man of true greatness, someone that is superior to everyone in this building right, so Show will you please welcome him on down to the ring right now, with the correct question.

Show: Who's gonna give the ass kicking?

Quiz: That's the right answer!

The Wheel Of Fortune rolls back once again, to reveal the words "Superior One" Tom Flesher.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Kashmir beats into life, as the blue and white words flash across the Smarktron screen as machine gun pyro fires off all the way down the ramp, as Tom Flesher steps out onto the ramp, golf clapped by Double Jeopardy.

The trio confidently stride down the ramp and slide under the ropes into the ring, taking up a stance and waiting for the opponents as Referee Nick Soapdish circles the ring.

FUCK YOU FLESHER! FUCK YOU FLESHER! FUCK YOU FLESHER!

Funyon: Their opponents, with a combined weight of Eight Hundred and Sixty Pounds, the team of DACE NIGHT, VA'AIGA and the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION ... THE BOSTON STRANGLER!

YYYYYYYYAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

Red strobe lights cover the smoke filled entrance ramp as Godzilla riffs into life. A huge blast of pyro goes up as the three men step out onto the stage. TBS unstraps the Title Belt from around his waist as he moves towards the ring, flanked by Va'aiga and Dace as he climbs into the ring.

Comet: Eight hundred and sixty pounds, my god Double Jeopardy are truly going to be squashed under the heel of justice.

Riley: Please Comet, life doesn't work that like. Flesher has the Superior skills, he'll some them what's right.

DING, DING, DING!

RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHH!

Va'aiga and Quiz take to the middle of the ring first. The Game Show Player streaking towards the Maori Badass, before throwing out his feet into a baseball slide between Va'aiga's legs. Springing back to his feet and bouncing off the ropes with a full head of steam, Quiz throws himself through the air, planting both his feet into Va'aiga's chest the a Dropkick that knocks him to the mat.

Straight back to his feet, Quiz launches himself backwards through the air with a Standing Moonsault, but connects with nothing but the mat as the Maori rolls out of the way and scrambles back to his feet. Grabbing Quiz around the waist, dragging him up from the mat and Gut Wrenching him all the way up onto his shoulders.

OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!

But the Game Show Player throws his body weight backwards, sending the Trinity member overhead with a Hurricanrana. Running backwards into the ropes, the Tag Champ takes a full run up and again throws his body through the air, this time with a Senton, but once again Va'aiga rolls out of the way.

Rolling back to his feet, the big Maori drags the Tag Champ to his feet, shooting him off, still holding his arm, Va'aiga drags him back in onto his shoulders, throwing his body backwards, he sends Quiz sailing up and over, slamming face and chest first into the mat with a Flapjack.

YYYYAAAAAHHHHHH!

Riley: Quiz just completely out pacing that fat lump of a Maori. Come on, if you nail him at that speed, he's gonna stay down like he should do.

Comet: Yes, but Va'aiga big enough to stand there and take it, then just level Quiz with one shot.

Taking hold of Quiz's legs and dragging him across the ring, Va'aiga wrenches him back up onto his feet once again, wrapping an arm around the back of his head and sweeping the Game Show Player's leg, taking him straight back to the made with a Side Russian Leg Sweep.

Reaching into his corner, Va'aiga tags in Dace Night, who climbs into the ring and takes up right where the Maori left off in attacking Quiz...

RRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHH!

...Raising onto his tip toes and dropping forwards, Horrorcore drives his full weight, knee first into Quiz's chest, sending the air shooting out of his lungs. Clamping on a Front Facelock as he brings the Tag Champ back to his feet, Night drops his body backwards to the mat, spiking Quiz with a DDT. Holding onto the Facelock, Dace rolls over back to his feet and lifts Quiz up into the air for a Suplex, slamming him back into the mat once again.

Riley: Damn that Dace, isolating Quiz in his own corner and just beating him down after Va'aiga started the work with a few lucky moves. There's just no honour at all in it.

Rolling over on top of the Game Show Player, Dace hooks his legs, making a quick cover in the middle of the ring.

......ONE!

...OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!

Show breaks out of his corner and charges towards the cover, but Dace is staring right at him, simply sitting up and glares at him before Show can break up the pin fall. Soapdish steps the path of the big man and tries to force him back towards his corner as Dace flips him off with a smile.

Riley: Now that's just plain disgraceful, giving that sort of gesture to a wrestler like Show. Dace is going to pay for it, I can feel it.

Comet: Why, because he showed smart tactics by breaking the cover before it go broken up. I doubt anyone expect that to get the three count.

Turn back to Quiz, Dace is caught off guard with a lightning quick series of right hands to his jaw, as Quiz follows it up with a boot to the midsection and spikes Dace with a DDT of his own.

BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Quiz kips up back to his feet as Dace simply stands up, showing no effect as he rams into Quiz, wrapping his arms around him and carrying him across the ring, slamming into the turnbuckles in his corner, before taking in The Boston Strangler.

Riley: Show, Flesher, get in there and kick this bloody limey's ass, he's gotta go down if he keeps cheating like this.

Comet: Here comes the World Champ into the action!

YYYYYYYAAAAAAHHHH!

Climbing over the top rope, Strangler grabs the Game Show Player by the throat and drags towards the middle of the ring, hauling him up into the air for a big Chokeslam.

Once again Show breaks for his corner to save his partner, but the ref blocks his path as Quiz franticly tries to escape the grasp of the World Champion. Leaping through the ropes, Tom Flesher dives past the distracted Soapdish and catching Strangler by surprises, drives a boot into his chest with a Yakuza Kick.

SMACK! FUCK YOU FLESHER! FUCK YOU FLESHER!

Strangler hits the mat as Quiz scrambles towards his corner as the Superior One slides out under the ropes and heads to his corner on the outside. Show's back in his corner, grasping the tag rope as Quiz reaches man makes the tag to the fellow Game Show Player. Show stalks across the ring towards the fallen World Champ. Dragging TBS to his feet by his hair, the Tag Champ rains in clubbing forearm blows to his back.

OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Riley: This is more like it. The great tactics from Tom Flesher giving this team the control they should have, and allowing them to beat Strangler like the worthless hoss he is.

Comet: How can you say such a thing Citizen Riley: They've used under hand methods to get into control.

Riley: Any type of hand is good to get in control with.

Lacing an arm around TBS' throat and hooking his near leg with his own, Show slams him down into the ring canvas with an STO, as the ring shakes with six hundred pounds thudding into it. Across the ring, Dace and Va'aiga clap on cheer on the World Champ in an effort to get him back on his feet. Staying with TBS on the mat, the Tag Champ flips to his side, scissoring his legs around Strangler's body and locking his near arm under his own arm. With his free arm, Show begins to wail of TBS' face with big stiff right hands.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

SHOW SUCKS! SHOW SUCK! SHOW SUCKS! SHOW SUCKS!

Thrashing from side to side, trying to break free of Show's grip as the right hands continue to hammer into his face. Untangling his legs, Show rolls over, forcing his whole weight across Strangler's chest and shoulders, pinning him to the mat as Soapdish slides in to count the fall.

......ONE!

......TWO!

NO!

YYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The Maori Badass dives across the ring and slams into Show to break up the cover. Ignoring Va'aiga, the Game Show Player charges into the ropes as TBS struggles back to his feet, throwing himself full force at The Boston Strangler, he tries to knock his teeth out with a Yakuza Kick, but Strangler throws his arms up at the last possible second to block it.

SMACK!

The blow ripples through the flesh off his arms, but he doesn't budge and inch but he's to stunted to block Show from lock his arms around his body. Twisting to the side, the Tag Champ Show takes TBS off the mat and slams him back down with a Side Belly to Belly Suplex. Pulling TBS into his corner, Show reaches out and tags Quiz back into the mat. Piling on a few well placed stomps to the head and body to keep the Champ down while Quiz climbs the turnbuckles. Show ducks his between Quiz's legs and stands up, throwing him over head in a Somersault, as he crashes down back first into The Boston Strangler on the mat.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Riley: I Double Dare The Boston Strangler to kick out of that one. He's going down, and not all the cheating back up in the world is going to save him this time.

Comet: Justice will prevail, I will assure you of that much Citizen Riley. The World Champ may have been beaten down and worked over by Show, but he still has fire left in him.

Quiz leans back over TBS to make a cover.

......ONE!

......TWO!

......1/4!

......1/2!

......3/4!

.....KICKOUT!

RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

Riley: No damn it! Stay down you fool. Tom, get in the ring and sort him out in a Superior way.

Springing back to his feet Quiz tags in the Superior One Tom Flesher before Strangler can even start to struggle back to a standing position.

BBBBBBBBOOOOO! FUCK YOU FLESHER! FUCK YOU FLESHER! FUCK YOU FLESHER!

Kneeling in front of Strangler, Flesher winds up and just bitch slaps the teeth out of his mouth.

SSSLLLLAAAAPPPP! OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Riley: Now this is the sort of thing I want to see more off.

Comet: Please, it's not right on prime time tv. You have to care for the morals of our viewers and set a good example!

Grabbing Strangler's arm and shooting him off across the ring, Flesher races after him, extending his leg for a jaw cracking Yakuza Kick, but TBS dodges to the side and barrels across the ring into the opposite ropes. Thunder back across the ring like a charge bull, TBS throws leg out for a Massive Yakuza Kick of his own, but the Superior One ducks, and spinning behind the World Champion, Palm Strikes him square in the back of the head, making a sickening sound on impact.

Dropping to the back, Flesher rolls TBS up with a School Boy, taking as big a handful of tights as he can manage to hold, Soapdish slides in from the other side and can't see as he begins to count, so Flesher hooks his feet on the bottom rope as well.

BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

......ONE!

......TWO!

NO!

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

On the outside, Dace grabs hold of Flesher's legs and pulls it off the ropes and half drags him out of the ring. Tom spins his head around and stares daggers at the Unholy Trinity member, who just taps his right elbow and stares back at Flesher.

Comet: Look at this vile disgrace. Not only did Tom Flesher had the tights, he had his feet on the ropes as well. It's a good thing Dace came to break up that completely illegal pinfall, like a good team mate should.

STRANGLER! STRANGLER! STRANGLER! STRANGLER!

The crowd roars to life as The Boston Strangler stumbles back to his feet, gasping for breath while the Mag Seven leader is distracted for a moment by Dace Night. Flesher turns back towards TBS, only to be hoisted seven and a half feet in the air as Strangler catches him with a Gorilla Press.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Comet: BOSTON MASSACRE! It's over!

Riley: NOOOOOOO!

But desperately kicking his lefts, Flesher shifts his weight and slipping free from the hands of the World Champ, drops to the mat behind him. Clamping his hands around TBS' waist, Tom snaps his body backwards with all the power he can get, digging his heels into the mat and taking the World Champ over head and slamming him into the mat with a huge German Suplex.

BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Riley: YES! The Superior One shows his superior abilities and counters with a German Suplex, it might not be over yet, but the Boston Strangler is struggling and struggling BADLY.

Flesher stands and with a baleful glare down at his arch nemesis and a dramatic crack of his knuckles, Flesher lifts the massive Massacring monster up to his feet and turns the Boston native and forcefully whips him into a neutral corner. Flesher braces his wrist and charges full tilt into the corner, extending his arm and powering his palm into the heart of Strangler’s muscular chest. Strangler exhales forcibly and slumps against the corner as Flesher slowly begins to ascend the turnbuckles…

Riley: The Irish Whip! The running shotei! This means only one thing for The Boston Strangler.

Comet: It’s time for the Ego Trip?

Riley: Strangler has got as much chance of winning as the Red Sox have of winning the World Series this year!

FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS!

Flesher: And you'll say I suck when I'm champion again!

Flesher holds back Stranglers head as he takes his seat on the top turnbuckle. Gritting his teeth and planting a knee solidly in the back of The Boston Strangler’s thickly muscled neck, Flesher leaps off the ropes and drives the SWF World Champion HARD face first into the mat. Strangler rolls over clutching his neck as a trickle of blood is dripping slowly down his face from where his nose has been bust open. Flesher dives for Strangler and hooks a loeg, leaning back with the press to place as much of his weight across Strangler’s ribs as possible.

Riley: EGO TRIP! EGO TRIP! This one is over like Summer in Boston!

…ONE!

…TWO!

…1/4!

…1/2!

…3/4 and Va’aiga has to RACE across the ring to stomp away and save Strangler.

Riley: Va’aiga has to bail out the sorry Ego Tripped ass of the Boston Strangler.

Comet: Solid tag team tactics from the experienced tag wrestler Va’aiga.

Riley: Yeah maybe Va’aiga should tag with Strangler next time he has to face The Superior One. Maybe the pair of them together could beat Tom Flesher.

Soapdish ushers the Maori Badass towards his own corner and the massive Maori back towards the Unholy Trinity team’s corner as the Boston Strangler lies writhing in pain on the mat, trickles of blood forming crimson deltas across his face. Flesher, frustrated by the Maori Badass breaking off his pin slaps his own hand forcefully and drops an elbow into the crotch area of his fallen Bostonian opponent. Show leaps into the ring and the pair fire away a series of rapid stomps into Strangler’s chest and ribs while Soapdish turning back to them puts on a five count. Flesher grins to the crowd as he strolls casually to the outside.

FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS!

Riley: Tom Flesher doesn’t suck, THESE people suck. That was a great show of tag team wrestling by the Superior One.

Comet: But he CHEATED!

Riley: Did he get caught?

Comet: NO.

Riley: That was a great show of tag team wrestling by the Superior One.

Show looks down at TBS and kneels over the suffering Strangler, throwing in a disrespectful slap across the face of his opponent. The erstwhile Charlie Matthews picks up The Strangler by the throat and o-soto-garis him back down HARD to the mat, still clasping the throat and taking a five count for his troubles, using four of them up before breaking.

Riley: There’s a Lovely Parting Gift with some bite to it.

Show rolls over to pin TBS with a lazy looking back press but a call from his corner causes the 300lber to roll off again…

Tom Flesher: Tag me! I wanna pin him!

Show stands and walks purposefully back to his corner, tagging back in his former SJL champion taf partner.

Comet: Why would Tom tag out if he was just going to tag in again?

Riley: You don’t understand the mentality of a TRUE wrestler. He had an chance to cheat, as well as taking a breather to prepare himself for the big finish. That’s not just practical for winning the match, that’s STYLISH with it. Suicide King couldn’t have done better himself.

The Superior one walks across the ring to Strangler and rubs his hands with glee as he stalks his 302lb prey. Grabbing the arm of the bloody nosed Bostonian, Flesher whips the Strangler into the corner again, and in a semi mock of the big Maori, draws his palm back to his mouth and kisses it before charging into the corner again!

FLESHER SUCKS! FLESHER SUCKS!

Comet: This could spell DISASTER for the Boston Strangler.

Riley: It’s time for another Tom Flesher Ego Trip. Hell when you’re this good the whole of life is an Ego Trip

Sneering out at the crowd as he climbs, Flesher again takes a position on the top rope as he sets his knee into the back of Strangler’s neck, takes a deep breath in, composes himself and moves to leap off the turnbuckle, but Strangler slips his head loose briefly. Flesher leans forward to try to drag Strangler back into position, but the Superior one makes a rare mistake, leaving his arms forward of his body and Strangler in an act of PURE desperation slides his arms under Flesher’s armpits.

Comet: I feel the momentum changing!

Strangler summons up every ounce of juice there is left in his adrenaline drained system, and somehow manages to extend out the arms of the Superior One, and with a giant defiant shout, Strangler flips Tom Flesher off the top rope and PLANTS him back first to the mat!

Comet: SOUTHIE SLAM! SOUTHIE SLAM! SOUTHIE SLAM!

Riley: Why the jubilation Comet? I think you’re biased, damnit.

Flesher writhes in pain as Strangler starts another quest cornerwards, inching his way carefully and slowly, breathing hard through his mouth as his bloodied nose heals up, edging ever forwards. Tom Flesher rolls towards Strangler’s leg and attempts to grab hold, but the pain of the Southie Slam wracking his body slows the superior one down and a despairing swipe and the Strangler’s leg misses. Changing direction towards his own corner Flesher takes a slow crawl himself as Quiz leans through the ropes, and the Superior One makes a despairing dive and tags in the high flying crusierweight.

Riley: TAG TO QUIZ!

Quiz leaps over the ropes and rushes across the ring, but Strangler too takes a lunge at the outstretched hand of a certain Pacific gentleman…

Comet: TAG TO VA’AIGA!

..and Quiz stops dead in his tracks and backs off a few asteps, shaking his head and trying in vain to wave off the Maori Badass, but Va’aiga steps through the ropes with a grin the size of New Zealand itself on his face, rushing Quiz and flipping the cruiserweight through 360 degrees with the HURTFUL, VENGEFUL, POWERFUL, YOU JUST TOOK MY TITLE BIYATCH AND THIS IS PAYBACKFUL, CALL CHARLES MANSON YOU’D BE SAFER IN HIS COMPANYFUL LAAAAAAARRRRRRRIIIIIAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH

Riley: Va’aiga with the Lariat! My God! Quiz could be dead!

Comet: That lariat even made ME flinch.

Show leaps over the ropes to try to help his fallen tag team partner, only to be catch Va’aiga’s shoulder full on in the stomach as a running tackle sends Show flying down to the canvas. Va’aiga kips up to his feet with remarkable agaility for a man his size and with a hand sign beckons Quiz to his feet, and as the cruiser stands slowly, still dazed, Va’aiga rushes again and fires off a clip tackle, sending Quiz reeling over the massive Maori’s back!

VA-ING-UH! VA-ING-UH!

Turning back to Show, Va’aiga grabs the larger member of Double Jeopardy and lifts him into a back waistlock, then leaning back Va’aiga LAWN DARTS Show with a German Suplex, RIGHT ONTO HIS TAG TEAM PARTNER!

Comet: Va’aiga using Show as a weapon!

Riley: That’s got to be illegal!

Comet: Why?

Riley: It’s a move by an OBJECTionable FOREIGNer.

Tom Flesher starts to move into the ring in a move designed to break up Va’aiga’s dominance of his two tag team compadres, but as Va’aiga picks the quiz show infatuated opposition off the mat, Tom’s sneak attack attempt is cut off by an onrushing Dace Night as he SPARKS OUT Tom Flesher with a devastating Yakuza Kick!

Riley: Hey! That’s illegal interference from Dace Night!

Comet: And Tom Flesher wasn’t planning the same thing?

Riley: No, he was looking to check on the medical status of his fallen tag team partners.

Dace spins on the spot and turns back to face the center of the ring as Show staggers slowly to his feet. Signalling over to Va’aiga, Dace crouches and prepares himself as Va’aiga backs up into his own corner, and the pair as one charge the standing, staggering Show, nailing him with the SANDWICHING DOUBLE SPEARS! Show drops down to the canvas, leaving chaos, carnage and a fretting Soapdish desperately trying to restore some order in the match, pointing Dace and a recovering Tom Flesher both back to their own corners!

Comet: It’s chaos! It’s disorder! It’s carnage! But it’s a trail of destruction for the power of good, so like the Hulk it’s acceptable.

Riley: I’m sure there’s a double standard in there somewhere. And Va’aiga couldn’t beat the Hulk in a spelling bee, even if you spotted him the first two letters of every word.

VA-ING-UH! VA-ING-UH!

Va’aiga: BOO-YAH!

The crowd explodes in applause for the Maori Badass as he calls out to them before walking over to his corner to tag in Dace, allowing the Brummie to officially join in the fun. Va’aiga nods in acknowledgement as Quiz and Show stagger to their feet, and both Dace and Va’aiga reel an arm back, before firing off an elbow smash and a punch in time with each other and the call of the crowd…

ONE!

Both pull their arms back and fire off their trademark strikes again, sending their opponents back a staggering step…

TWO!

…another punch, andother elbow, another step, another number…

THREE!

…and in perfect time as Va’aiga draws his hand back his lips to give it a kiss for luck, Dace lifts his elbow up and adjusts the shoulder pad to give it maximum protection for his arm…

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

And Va’aiga BLASTS Show with a massive right hook sending the big man reeling and rocking, while Dace FLATTENS quiz, knocking the cruiser flying with a massive elbow smash! Va’aiga screams out to the crowd as he draws his hand back slowly across his throat, and Dace slaps against his thigh signalling that…

Comet: It’s time for the DECAPITATOR!

TRI-NI-TY! TRI-NI-TY!

Tom Flesher AGAIN tries to interpose himself in the match, stepping back into the ring to break up a finishing move attempt by the Unholy Trinity, but looking to save his partner’s big finish, Strangler steps through the ropes and as Flesher rushes at Va’aiga, the Maori Badass takes a step back, and Flesher runs straight into a gorilla press by the Strangler! Va’aiga grabs Quiz by the legs and lifts him into the wheelbarrow suplex position, moving to his right to make sure Quiz is in the right position for what he has planned…

Riley: Oh no! This REALLY doesn’t look good…

And together, acting as a coherent team, Va’aiga lifts Quiz up and takes a step forward, leaving the 180lber parallel to both the mat and hanging precariously over his partner, as Dace takes a step through and fires off an impressive Axe Kick onto the back of Quiz’s neck, as Va’aiga Inverted Powerbombs him down DRIVING QUIZ DIRECTLY ONTO THE FALLEN SHOW! Meanwhile The Boston Strangler lets Tom Flesher drop out of the gorilla press onto his shoulders and falls to a side dropping Flesher down onto his head!

Comet: IN STEREO! BOSTON MASSACRE! DECAPITATOR! IT’S CARNAGE IN THE RING THERE!

Va’aiga and the strangler both strike a pose, drawing an AMAZING round of cheers from the appreciative fans, as Dace rolls Quiz off of Show and hooks a leg, and Soapdish drops to count the cover…

…ONE!

…TWO!

…1/4!

…1/2!

…3/4!

… THREE!

DING DING DING!

The crowd erupts as Dace rolls off of Quiz’s outstretched body and looks out at the cheering crowds. Strangler and Va’aiga grab Dace, pulling him up into a standing position and slapping him on the back, congratulating him on the win. Quiz remains outstretch on his back, knocked loopy by the Decapitator. Strangler, Dace, and Va’aiga are laughing as they look over at Quiz before the three men roll out of the ring to the outside and begin walking towards the ramp. Strangler takes ahold of the SWF Championship belt from the ringside attendant before rejoining the Trinity on the ramp.

Comet: Justice has triumphed once again, Citizen Riley! The bastions of justice have triumphed, as the Trinity and Citizen Strangler have defeated the nefarious Tom Flesher and Double Jeopardy!

Riley: For once, PLEASE speak English!

Comet: Silence, Citizen Riley. Today marks the defeat of Tom Flesher and Double Jeopardy!

Riley: Well, I do know that Strangler’s gonna have to rumble with Tom Flesher next show, and I think it’s high time that the rightful champion got his damn belt back. And when Double Jeopardy faces the Trinity, it’s just gonna be more of the same.

Comet: I do not pretend to know what shall come to pass, Robert, but when the forces of good and evil are juxtaposed, good shall always emerge victorious.

Riley: To quote a good man, Comet, good shall never triumph over evil, because good is dumb!

Tom Flesher and Show slip into the ring and bend over to help pick up Quiz, who is still knocked loopy from the Decapitator. Show roughly jerks him up, and helps to support Quiz, whose eyes are still slightly out of focus. Show checks on Quiz as Tom Flesher stares up to the top of the ramp, where he locks eyes with Strangler. Strangler returns the glare as the two men refuse to break the staring contest. Dace and Va’aiga are involved in a staredown of their own with Double Jeopardy, despite Quiz’s altered state. Show and Quiz look back up at the Trinity as Show takes hold of the two SWF Tag Title belts. Dace pantomimes a belt around his waist, and tosses a few choice words down at the losers of the contest before the winning team disappears behind the curtain.

Comet: Well, Citizen Riley, it has indeed been quite a night, but there is still one more contest left to be decided! Tag team partners shall meet in combat as Judge Mental takes on his formidable foe, Ejiro Fasaki!

Riley: Both of these guys are incredible talents, and it should be a great matchup to see who takes on Craven for that title shot at Genesis. Hopefully Tom Flesher’s gonna be the guy defending the belt at that event too….Strangler main-eventing Genesis makes me sick to my stomach.

Comet: Regardless of that, Robert, either man would make an excellent champion of our company to head into Genesis. But when we return, Justice and Rule collide!

Fade….

September 9, 2003

As Smarkdown returns from commercial, the camera settles in on the dynamic duo of Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley. Comet looks dead into the camera and begins to speak.

"Good citizens, I must warn you that the upcoming segment might have too many evil influences for your children."

"Evil influences? What in the bloody blue heck are you talking about?"

"Citizen Robert, there is absolutely no way that the Suicide King is not going to take this opportunity to humiliate and belittle the great H-Ville Thugg after what he said earlier in the show. I just do not want any of the young children of America..."

"Forget the kids... they'll be fine. It's just a little contract signing. When in the history of wrestling has this gone bad?"

"How long do we have in the next segment? Do you want me to cover just North America..."

"Alright, I get the point."

About that time, the lights dim and a familiar, haunting voice echoes through the arena.

"ALL ABOARD!!!! HA HA HA HA HA!!!"

As Ozzy Osbourne rips through the opening of "Crazy Train", the Suicide King appears from behind the curtain and proceeds to make his way down the ramp to the ring, strutting as if he were the greatest thing since the invention of the stretch sock or the vertical suplex. His smile is nearly ear-to-ear, and it is clear he is reveling in the derision and hate being poured upon him from the crowd. Under his arm he carries a clipboard with several papers clipped to it, the only one visible has the SWF logo prominently displayed. As he reaches ringside, the camera finally catches a good shot of the ring and shows the home viewers the red carpet that has been placed over the traditional canvas mat. In the center, in gold letters, is the SWF logo. King rolls into the ring and walks to the side opposite the entrance, reaching over the top rope for a mike. He is dressed, as always, in a very expensive suit.

"Robert, drooling is not the way to be a professional in this job."

"I can't help it Comet! Those shoes cost more than my entire wardrobe!!"

Finally, after looking around at the fans for a few moments waiting for his music to fade away, King raises the mike and starts to speak.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am sure we all know why I am here tonight. Over the past few weeks, there has been no greater thorn in my side than the H-Ville Thugg. (Good pop for the Hall of Famer) His ill-considered gambit to buy enough stock in this company to intimidate me into following his orders has finally fallen apart. And thank God! Who knows what else he could have done to ruin this Fed?" Huge heat as the crowd starts to really let him have it. Section 203 goes so far as to start the classic "asshole" chant. King continues undaunted though, "That's just fine. You can think of me what you want. I can assure you that everything I have ever done as Commissioner has been in your best interests." The crowd continues to chant and boo, finally getting to the normally unflappable heel. "Do you want Stubby back?" At this the crowd calms down a little, but still makes their feelings known. "But, be that as it may... we have business to attend to here tonight. Thugg! Wheel your sorry ass out here and say goodbye to the fans!"

A long moment of silence follows... quiet... still except for the crowd still chanting derogatory names at King.

"He's not coming!! I know he would flake!! He's nothing but a lowlife... "

"Citizen Robert, I assure you he will be here. Thugg's word is as good as a contract, and if he said he'll sign the papers, he will sign them! I hope he does not however, as that would allow that foul villain the Suicide King to continue to reign supremem here."

King waits another few seconds, then growls into his mike... "Thugg... get out here."

More waiting...

No music...

No pyro...

Nothing...

"Dammit Thugg!! I have had it up to here with you and your crap..."

"MUWHAHAHAHA!"

An electric guitar blares of the speakers, starting the introduction to DMX's "Who We Be", as the entire arena explodes into a frenzy of cheers.

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

"What they don't know is..."

The crowd goes absolutely apeshit as the curtain parts to reveal Thugg in his wheelchair slowly pushing himself out onto the stage. As the music continues, he starts down the ramp and the camera catches a close shot of his face. He is obviously tired, and there seems to be a cast of depression, even defeat, about him. The crowd continues their cheering, oblivious to the mood the big man seems to be in.

Finally, as the Gambling Man waits impatiently in the ring, Thugg makes it to ringside. Two techs come out of nowhere to hold his chair as Thugg pushes himself to his feet. Shrugging off help, the former World Champion drags his uncooperative legs up the ring steps. Behind him, the techs fold up the wheelchair and shove it under the bottom rope. They follow quickly as King retreats to the other side of the ring and leans on the top rope, obviously annoyed by the length of the entrance. As Thugg steps between the top two ropes, the techs pop open the chair and move it to Thugg. It appears as if the giant passes them a bill or two and says something as he sits down in the chair and takes a deep breath. One of the techs hands him a mike under the ropes and then they disappear off to ... well, wherever it is that the techs disappear to.

The music fades and King puts the mike to his lips...

"That took long enough."

"Deal."

"Nice... Well Thugg..."

"Yo!! You ain't startin' this conversation, I am!"

The crowd waits for some scathing remark from King, and he looks like he is about to oblige, but bites back whatever he was about to say. "Fine Thugg. No problem... you start. I'm listening."

"Good. You do that. For the last few weeks, you been sayin' alotta shit about me King. But that aight. It's cool. It's what you do, who you be. I know that, I didn't expect nothin' less."

"Fine... now then..."

"But you still be interruptin' me boy! I thought you learned by now that shit don' work!" The crowd pops for Thugg's verbal beatdown and King glares at him, willing to suffer a little abuse as long as it means getting rid of him. "You ain't never changed man. You always did like the sound of your own voice. But before you always backed it up in the ring like a man. Now you jus' hidin' behind a piece of paper like a little bitch!"

"Dammit Thugg..."

"And you STILL be interruptin'!!" Nice sized pop for that as the crowd is getting into the Thugg's mike work. He looks around at them with a small smile. "See? They know it true! I used to not give a shit about 'em you know. But I learned. When I was hurt, busted down in the hospital, some nurse helping me get to and from the john... man that was a bad time for me. But you know what got me through? Two things. The thought of getting' back on my feet and maybe someday getting' the chance to come back here to the SWF and wreck somebody's shit!" The massive crowd pops for the catchphrase and King, obviously humoring the giant Thugg now, looks at his watch with a bored expression. "The other one... well the other one was these fans! You guys made it worthwhile. I remember... I remember right before Bo took me out... I was getting cheered. Now, I never gave a shit before, but that made me feel better than I had in a long while. And damn... I never seen so many get well cards! You guys," Thugg points out at the crowd, eliciting not a pop but a huge cheer. "You guys gave me that little extra push when I was having my worst times. I'll never forget that."

The crowd as one stands and applauds. King looks around at them and Thugg just flabbergasted.

"Citizen Riley... what is that on Thugg's face? Is that a... a..."

"No Comet... that's not a tear. Thuggs don't cry."

After letting the cheer die away, Thugg focuses his attention back on the Commissioner. "But I'm sittin' at home chillin' and turn on the tube and what do I see? I see my ol' buddy King on some kinda half-assed power trip! And what are you doing with it? Runnin' down the boys and firing announcers... and all in the name of the fans. Well I know bullshit when I see it King and I couldn't let that go down! You ain't never done anything that didn't benefit you first!"

"That's all well and good Thugg, and it's even true depending on how you look at things, but we aren't here to go over our history... we are here for you to sign this." King walks over to Thugg and drops the clipboard in his lap. "Now be a good little gimp and put your John Hancock on that paper and we can all watch the main event."

The crowd just lets King have it, booing him mercilessly. But when Thugg starts to speak, they quiet down, waiting to hear if he has come up with something during the show. "Ya know... I tried everything I could to get more stock. I pulled together all of my money, called in every favor I had but there was no stock to be found. Damn stuff is being held tighter than a virgin on prom night. I only agreed to this to buy time and try to find a way to beat you. There are a lot of guys counting on me in the back, I didn't wanna let 'em down."

A huge cheer from the fans is cut short by the King's voice in full-on evil mode. "Well my thuggish friend, I guess your 'boys' in the back will just have to face the fact that this time they backed the wrong hoss. You should have known you can't beat me. You never could and you never will. And I will always be around to keep you from ever being a part of this place in any real way again. Now pick up the papers and f*cking sign them."

"And what if I said no? What if I told you to take this clipboard and cram it up yo' skinny white ass?"

As the crowd cheers another of Thugg's witty rejoinders, King pauses for a second as if considering his next few words carefully. Then he slowly raises his mike and says, "Oh but you will sign it Thugg. You made a deal, and we had an agreement. Now I know in that pea-sized brain of yours you're thinking that there is a way out of this... that there is a way for you to save face. But I assure you that the second you try to leave the ring without signing those papers, I'll have you arrested for trespassing so fast it will make your head spin. You are trying my patience and I have better things to do than stand out here and be insulted by a broken-down cripple who, when he still had working limbs couldn't pin me. Now sign the damn paper so I can be rid of you."

Thugg looks up at him, rage etched on his face. "Nobody talks to me that way King. Nobody."

"Well Thuggy, we saw what you could do a couple of shows ago didn't we? Now, I feel that I have been more than fair, and I have given you a million more chances to do the right thing than I would have given anyone else. I think the SWF owes you that much. But playtime is over Thugg. Time to be a man and own up to your side of the bargain."

"I shouldn't..."

Now it is King's turn to interrupt. "Godammit Thugg. This is it! You gave me your word. You made a deal. That used to mean something with you... or has your honor atrophied as much as your legs?"

Thugg tries to speak but instead he just throws down the mike. He takes a deep breath and reaches out his right hand. Carefully, wary of his still impressive upper-body strength, King places a gold pen in Thugg's hand. Slowly, Thugg closes his huge fist around it and looks down at the clipboard of papers still sitting in his lap. With a slightly shaky left hand, he picks up the clipboard and starts to read the front page of papers.

"Citizen Riley... he isn't actually going to sign is he? He is going to intentionally and willfully sign a paper that bans him from television? That makes him one of King's employees in the back? He'll have him emptying trash in no time! This is outrageous! This is demeaning!"

"This is great! It looks like King has finally managed to put the kibosh on this little "rebellion" Comet! This will be a day long remembered! It has seen the end of Thugg, and it will soon see the end of the rebellion!!"

"Robert... are you even aware of what you just said?"

"... ... Ummm... no. Why?"

"Forget it my able sidekick, it doesn't matter."

Thugg finishes looking over the papers, but before he signs, he reaches over and picks up the dropped mike. "I'll sign them. You win King. But maybe this was a wake up call. Maybe me being here this long was enough to make some of the boys step up and take a stand! Maybe..."

"yes yes yes... blah blah blah... things will change... yadda yadda yadda... I've heard it all before. Just sign the damn paper Thugg. We are on live television you know."

Thugg drops the mike in the seat next to him and picks up the paper and pen again. Slowly he places pen to paper and starts to write...

Then every light in the arena goes out.

King is heard over the sound system, "What now?"

Comet's voice chimes in, "What's happening? Even my super-senses cannot penetrate this magical darkness!!"

Riley responds with "Shut up! Good Lord, it isn't magic... its just dark!"

Silence reigns...

The crowd is getting restless now, wondering what is happening...

Then...

CRACK!!!!!! - The sound of a baseball hitting bat...

And the crowd, simply put, explodes.

But they quiet quickly as an unfamiliar drum line hits, suddenly speeding up and being joined by guitars...

"Go home!

You're done!

Hit the showers!

Thanks for the runs!

You bum! You got rocked!

So just beat it!

You got the hook - go home!"

As "Go Home" by Blessid Union of Souls settles into a rhythm, the lights suddenly come back up as red and white pyro explodes on either side of the stage! As the crowd focuses their confused and hopeful eyes on the stage again, the see someone they never thought they'd see again...

"Grand Slam" Mark Stevens bursts through the curtain full of energy!! Both Thugg and King are in shock, wondering what the hell is going on! Grand Slam runs back and forth on the stage, pumping up the crowd to cheer even louder than they already are!! As his new music continues to blare, he starts down the ramp pointing at the crowd and smiling!!

King, shockingly, is the first to break up the scene. "Cut that crap! What the hell are you doing back? I fired you! And you," he says, spinning on Thugg, "finish signing the papers!!"

From the back pocket of his jeans, Grand Slam produces a mike. "Don't sign anything Thugg! You made an agreement based on not having enough stock to outvote King and that is no longer the case."

By now the Heavy Hitter has made it to ringside and is climbing in over the top rope. "What are you babbling about Stevens?" Thugg asks.

"I'm saying Thugg, that between my severance package, Lynn's 401K, the profits from Bases Loaded and some prudent investment strategy over the last few years, I had a little extra dough lying around. So, when I heard what you were up to I called my stockbroker. You are looking at a proud owner of 12% of the S... W... F!!"

The crowd lets loose a wild cheer as they do the math.

Now King chimes in, "What? I didn't give you a severance package! Where did you get the money? Who sold you the stock?"

Thugg looks up at Grand Slam, smiles, takes the paper off the clipboard and rips them in half to the cheering approval of the crowd!! "Yo King! You can consider the deal off!"

"This is ridiculous!!" King screams. "There is no goddamn way this can be true."

Mark holds the mike up and takes a step in King's direction. "It's true old buddy. Between Thugg and I we can stall you on anything you try and push through. Its about time this place got back to being about wrestling and about having the best damn wrestlers in the world. The olast few weeks everyone has been cowering in terror of you in fear of their jobs. Well everyone but Thugg's group of brave souls and those sycophants you associate with. But that all ends right now. Face it King, there's new sheriffs in town!"

The crowd is undergoing sensory overload now, popping at everything said!!

"You're lying Mark. All it will take is a phone call," King says, "and I'll know you're lying. You tried to pull this on me once Thugg, and no way it will happen again."

Grand Slam tosses a cell phone to King and says, "Go ahead... make the call. I thought you'd have learned by now King. I don't lie."

King throws the phone down on the mat so hard it shatters into several pieces. "Fine... you know what? You want to be in charge so damn bad, I'll give you your chance." The crowd pops loud for this as King gets right up in Mark's face. "I've waited a long time for this Stevens. You want to be in charge? Prove it to me at Genesis!" The crowd explodes at the thought of a match between King and Grand Slam. "I'd invite you into the match Thugg.. but, well, you know... So what do you say Mark? You and me... one on one for the title of Commissioner of the SWF! I am tried of playing games."

As Thugg looks on the scene with a mixture of happiness and confusion, Grand Slam responds, "Don't worry Thugg, I got your back. If I win, we win." Thugg stares at King and Mark, looking dubious. "Sounds like one hell of a party King," Grand Slam continues. "I'll be there. And that," and the crowd joins in, causing goosebumps to run down the spine of many home viewers, "my friend, is a damn promise!!"

Grand Slam throws his mike in the air and readies himself for a rush by the King, but the Gambling Man has other ideas and rolls out of the ring, pointing at the ring and himself, saying over and over, "I'm unbeatable."

Grand Slam stands on the bottom rope and points out at him, challenging him to come back in the ring. The crowd cheers until they see an ominous sight. Rising slowly up out of the wheelchair behind Grand Slam is the H-VilleThugg. The Heavy Hitter realizes something is wrong and turns around, looking dead into the throat of the huge Thugg!!

The two men stand off for a second, then Grand Slam smiles and puts out his right hand for a handshake. Thugg looks around the arena, and every single fan is telling him to go for it, to shake the man's hand! Slowly, he reaches out his huge paw and grips his former enemy's hand. Grand Slam pulls him into a hug for a fast second (which stuns Thugg a little), then turns around to the fans and raises the big man's hand in the air in victory! Flashbulbs pop all over the arena as the rabid fans record this moment for posterity.

"I can't believe it!!" Comet yells, "Grand Slam is back and he is part owner of the Fed! And it looks like he and Thugg are actually working together!"

"I can't believe what just happened!" Riley says, " No way Grand Slam and Thugg can work together! They can't stand each other! There's too much history there."

"That's been a long time Bobby, and men like Thugg and Stevens know how to forgive and forget! So mark your calendars Ladies and Gentlemen, it is "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens taking on the Suicide King in a match to determine the next Commissioner of the SWF at Genesis IV"

Before the scene fades, the last image is Grand Slam helping Thugg back into the wheelchair, both men in the ring basking in the absolute adulation of the crowd...

Both thinking the same thing...

"Damn. It's good to be back..."

Edited September 9, 2003 by Grand Slam

September 9, 2003

The camera pans in on the Ford Center in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, as we approach the end of a fantastic show. A slow pan reveals a few signs, like “THIS TEAM SUCKS!” with the compliment “WHO IS DOUBLE JEOPARODY?”, “THUGG LOVE!”, and “WILDCHILD, I THINK I LOVE YOU!”. A graphic on screen appears, with two familiar faces wearing very similar black jerseys. One is of a hardened, grayed man, the other a cocky, smiling Asian. Underneath it reads a simple caption:

Justice vs. Rule

“Welcome back to the Main Event of SWF Smarkdown!” says Comet as the camera comes down the announcer’s table, “For any new viewers out there, I am the CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET~!, the resident super-powered savoir of the SWF, back in announcing form! And next to me sits my always-misguided sidekick, Bobbie Ri-OW!”

“How that for a guided kick to the side,” says a slightly irate Riley, “Anyways, tonight’s Main Event is going to be the best in a long time! We have Justice! We have Rule! We have a tourney spot on the line!”

“Very true, Bobbie. These two have been nothing but dirty cheats throughout their respective runs in this tourney, but thankfully fate has intervened to let some JUSTICE~! be served.”

“Whatever. The fact remains that both of these guys fought-“

“-and cheated-“

“-hard to get to their spots right now, and damned if either of them doesn’t deserve that Genesis Main Event spot right now. Anyways,” says Bobbie, moving on, “It should be interesting how the two work against each other since they’ve been partners since February.”

*DING DING DING*

The ring bell silences the crowd for a moment, but it doesn’t last as Funyon gets a mini-pop as he enters the ring. The ring announcer is decked out in his best blue suit as he brings the microphone up to his lips.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the next match up is tonight’s MAAAAAAAAIN EVENT!” he booms as the crowd pops big for the Main Event, “It is for a spot in the Genesis Tournament Loser’s Bracket FINALS and is scheduled for ONE FALL!”

The discordant guitar chords of “Sleep Now in the Fire” by Rage Against the Machine begin to blare through the sound system of the Ford Center while the crowd begins to boo like mad. On the SmarkTron, “JUSTICE” and “RULE” flash on the screen while short clips of their greatest tag moments, before-

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP

-Machine gun pyros go off on either side of the stage as the two men step out, Ejiro wearing his title belt around his waist.

“At the special request of both men, they asked to be introduced together,” booms Funyon as the pair continue to garner more heat, “Now entering the ring, at a combined weight of 430 pounds, they are the greatest tag team ever to grace the canvas of the SWF! They are JUSTICE! AND! RUUUUUUUUUUULE!”

“What a fantastic show of unity by Justice and Rule!” admires Bobbie, “These two aren’t going to let this title get in the way of their friendship.”

“That won’t last, Bobbie,” comments Comet, “In my crime-fighting experience, I’ve found that these criminal pairings inevitably break up because of one thing: Greed. Knowing these two they’ll do anything they want to get to the top, even if it means destroying their friend.”

The two stride down to the ring and Ejiro hands off his title belt to a ringside assistant. Entering the ring, the pair each takes a turnbuckle, gaining even more booing. Leaping down, Ejiro and Hearford meet in the middle of the ring, where they exchange a few words that the ring mics pick up.

“No holding back now,” remarks the Judge, extending his left hand.

“Of course. Whatever happens here, stays in here,” says Ejiro, completing the handshake.

The Judge nods as the crowd watches the display of sportsmanship…

… and the two clock each other with their right hands, knocking themselves backwards. CED quickly points to the timekeeper’s table for the ring bell.

*DING DING DING*

The two barely miss a beat, not surprised at all by their partner’s actions, and almost immediately lock up. Ejiro quickly uses his size and speed to duck under the Judge’s grip, going for a waistlock. But the Judge spins the other way, breaking the lock and grabbing Ejiro’s arm for a Fujiwara Armbar Takedown. Fasaki reacts like a viper, using all his strength to keep him up as he manages to block the hold. Realizing the takedown isn’t working, Hearford quickly rethinks and releases the arm, instead going for a headlock takedown. Quickly wrapping his arms around the head of Fasaki, he slams he down onto his back, but the US Champ quickly bends his legs forwards, scissoring them around the Judge’s neck. This forces the Judge to release the headlock, but he quickly powers himself out of it. The two roll away after the heated exchange, the smiles that were on their faces before now gone; this is all business. Almost immediately the two get back into fray, locking up again.

“Holy Thoth, these two are going at each other like there is no tomorrow!”

“No use in delaying the inevitable, Comet. These two know each other well enough that all their delaying wouldn’t do them any good. They just have to get into the mix and try every trick they have.”

Back in the ring, Hearford immediately maneuvers himself into control of the lockup, grabbing Ejiro’s arm and quickly twisting it into a wristlock. He uses his position to start hammering Fasaki’s knee with a few kicks, trying to take him to the ground. Ejiro bends but doesn’t buckle under the force, and he moves forwards, doing a hand stand to reverse the wristlock on Justice! He gives a few sharp elbows to the Judge’s arm before swinging him down to the ground in a Fujiwara Armbar!

“Fujiwara takedown!” calls Riley as the crowd begins to warm up to the fast paced, balls-to-the-wall technical work by the two, “Ejiro is sticking to his usual game of working the arm tonight.”

Fasaki torques the arm back as hard as he can as the Judge grits his teeth under the strain. While the hold is applied well enough, Hearford is able slowly to inch his body closer towards the ropes. But it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rule, who releases the one arm and tries to float over to the one to block it. Hearford, though, tucks his arm away, allowing him to get free of Fasaki. Hearford tries to get away but it doesn’t work quite well as planned as Ejiro still manages to float over and grab a headlock on him.

“A great reversal, but the Judge still can’t get away from Fasaki. Ejiro really has his mind into this match.”

“Indeed, Bobbie, but JUSTICE~! shall prevail!”

“… I thought you hated him.”

“Indeed I do, but I never miss a chance to say my favorite catchphrase!”

“...*Sigh*…”

The Judge begins to push up off the ground, using his power to force Ejiro to allowing him a foot. Ejiro tries to bring him back down again. The Judge won’t go, and he begins shifting his body to the side, towards the ropes…

*DING*

But instead of actually going for the ropes, he uses his body to shield the low blow against Fasaki from the view of Mr. Ordonez.. Fasaki’s body begins to buckle under it seems, and the Judge takes immediate advantage of it, breaking the hold and sweeping his feet out from under him. He shakes his arm off for a second after that Fujiwara and grabs Ejiro’s leg, pulling it back into a Half Boston Crab!

“I guess there’s no honor among thieves,” spits Comet, “Who would actually cheat against his best friend?”

“A guy who said he was gonna go all out, man,” retorts Riley, “It’s not as though it’s a big secret that these two occasionally stretch the rules. You just have to prepare yourself for that.”

Through the numb pain of the groin shot and the stretching of his leg, Ejiro still has tons of fight in him. As Ordonez asks him if he gives up, he defiantly shakes his head and begins crawling towards the ropes. The crowd gives a small pop as he begins to move despite Justice planting his feet into the ground, getting closer and closer to the ropes. He gets a hand on the ropes, but before CED can even ask, Hearford breaks the hold. Instead he grabs Ejiro’s leg again and begins to pull him out to the center of the ring on his back. Fasaki gives him a sharp kick to the chest, trying to kick him away, but Justice’s hold is iron-clad as he takes the leg and begins to spin around it… But Ejiro puts his arm between his legs, grabbing him in a school boy rollup!

ONE!

TWO!

TNO! Strong kickout, and Ejiro quickly gets back up to his feet, shaking his leg off. The old man begins to get up, but Fasaki is the first to strike with his elbows, nailing him with a vicious one right in the nose!

*CRACK*

The Judge stumbles back, but with an angry frown he returns fire with a forearm to the face! Ejiro is knocked back, and as the Judge winds up a chop, Fasaki quickly grabs his face with both hands and rips them to either side! The crowd boos as Hearford stumbles backwards holding his face, allowing Fasaki to resume his assault with his elbows!

*CRACK*

Hearford stumbles backwards into the ropes, and Ejiro spins clockwise…

*CA-RACK!!*

And Hearford falls to the ground as the reverse elbow nails him right in the temple!

“Screaming Elbow! Fasaki put all power into that blow!” calls Riley as Fasaki makes a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THRNO! Hearford gets a shoulder up!

Not wasting any time, Fasaki gets back up to his feet. He begins pulling Hearford closer to the center of the ring, every step or two making sure to gives a nice kick to the shoulder he’s pulling on. He gets the old man situated right in the middle, and he wraps his legs around the Judge’s arm for a Cross Armbreaker!

“In-JUSTICE~! barely overrules a match-winning submission,” say Comet as crowd begins making noise at the possibility of the match ending.

“He barely locked his hands in time, but he’s not fully covered,” comments Bobbie as Justice struggles to keep his fingers together, “Fasaki is still putting a lot of strain on that arm just by trying to pull it apart.”

Rule pulls hard, trying to pry Justice’s arm away, but he just can’t seem to do it. Meanwhile, Hearford isn’t taking this situation lying down. He begins shifting his body, kicking his legs to get a good footing. He finally gets a knee on the ground and he gets his second one, pushing Ejiro’s shoulders against the ground for a flash pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THRNO! Ejiro lets go of the hold on Hearford’s arm, but the Judge reacts quick enough to get a hold of Fasaki’s leg. Ejiro tries to kick him away, nailing him in his bad arm, but the Judge winces, fighting through the pain and turning it into a standing Half Crab!

“The Judge is really starting to go after that leg there,” notes Bobbie as Ejiro begins to grimace under the pain, “Looks like he’s trying to slow Fasaki down so he can dominate him with his power. A smart move on Hearford’s part there.”

Once again, Fasaki begins to move towards the ropes. Hearford tries to stop him like before, but Rule is still determined to make it. He begins to reach out for the nearby ropes…

*STOMP*

And the Judge plants a foot right in the back of his head! The crowd boos big time at this attempt to stop Fasaki from getting to the ropes. CED goes down and asks him if he wants to submit, and Ejiro says “No, God damn it, NO!” as his hands flail only an inch or so away from the ropes.

“What a dirty tactic! Even if this was for a title I would never resort to such foul means of submission like smashing my friend’s face into the mat.”

“That’s why you never got to the World Title, masked moron,” snipes Riley, “You have to be ruthless when you are fighting for the biggest piece of the pie. When you want the glory, you can’t pander to everyone else’s feelings.”

“I’d rather have friends than titles, Bobbie. It’s better than what happened to you…”

“What?”

“Having no friends and no titles.”

“SHUT UP!”

Ejiro reaches out, the pressure on his head and the pain in his leg horrible, looking for the ropes…

And makes it! The crowd gives a cheer as Hearford is forced to break the hold, and he lets go of Ejiro’s leg and grabs him by the shoulder. He pulls him up, Ejiro showing off a noticeable limp, but Fasaki swings around and nails him with a sharp back elbow. With a ticked off expression on his face, he grabs hold of Hearford’s arm and wrenches it into an wristlock. Moving quick, he wraps his legs around his shoulder and drops to the mat!

”Fasaki Fuser! Great move transition there by Ejiro,” remarks Riley.

Rule stops for a moment because of the pain in his legs, but he regroups and holds onto the arm, shifting his legs around for a Reverse Cross Armbreaker! Hearford screams out in pain as the crowd cheers for the possible match-ending submission! The Judge can’t get his arm away, but he’s still close to the ropes from when he pulled Ejiro away from them. He reaches out as Ejiro puts excruciating pressure on his arm…

“This could be it! The Judge’s court be adjourned from this tournament in only a few seconds!” says Comet as the Judge continues to reach out for the ropes. Fasaki actually lifts one of his feet and slams it back down on the Judge’s head in revenge as he continues to go for the ropes…

And gets it! The crowd gives a mixed reaction, not really siding with either man as Fasaki breaks the hold. Justice clutches his arm on the ground as Ejiro limps back up, and pulls Hearford back up. Looking fed up with the submission work and wanting to end the match here and now, Ejiro drags him towards the middle of the ring before throwing a knee right into the old man’s gut. Hearford doubles over, allowing Fasaki to put him in a head scissors, and Ejiro goes to underhook the old man’s arms…

But Hearford grabs Fasaki’s legs and brings him over the top for a bridging pin!

“A surprise bridge! The Judge might get it here!”

He doesn’t hold the bridge, though, rolling through while holding onto Ejiro’s legs. He comes back up in standing position with both of Ejiro’s legs, and he puts a leg between Rule’s before dropping back into Cross Examination!

“Holy terrible testimonies! The Judge rolled through Ejirocation right into Cross Examination!”

“This could be it! That’s one of the Judge’s most potent submissions!”

Fasaki yells out as the Judge torques Ejiro’s legs, trying to get as much out of the hold as possible. Ejiro is trapped away from the ropes, but Fasaki pushes the pain back down; this is worth way too much to give up this early. To a small pop from the crowd, he begins to crawl towards the ropes, with the Judge in tow! The only thing the Judge can do is maintain the hold, not able to try and slow Fasaki down with his hands. Fasaki grinds his teeth as he stretches his arm out…

And makes it! The crowd applauds his toughness, others boo at him not tapping out, and the Judge releases the hold, pounding his fist at his young protégé escaping another submission hold. Doing the same as Ejiro did only a moment ago, the Judge decides to stop going for a submission and just try to end the match as soon as possible, pulling up the young man and putting him in a ¾ Headlock… but Ejiro pulls his head out, spinning him around and elbowing the Judge in the face! He begins nailing him with elbow after elbow, backing him up into the ropes for a whip. The Sarasota Cobra steps out to the center with a grim look on his face, spinning around to deliver another Screaming Elbow…

But as Ejiro goes high the Judge goes low, ducking under it and bouncing off the ropes again. Fasaki turns around to met Hearford, and he makes an introduction with his outstretched arm!

“Christ, Ejiro just got NAILED with that lariat! Ordonez may have to get a spatula to scrap him off the mat after that one.”

Fasaki is plastered to the mat with the strike as the Judge stumbles over to rest against the ropes. The old veteran is breathing hard and his arm is aching like no other, but he isn’t done yet, not by a long shot. He pushes himself off the ropes towards the downed Fasaki, picking up the tired young man up right into a head scissors. The crowd actually pops now, getting excited for what has turned out to be a far more heated match than they thought. He reaches for Ejiro’s arms, but Ejiro tries to prevent them from being straitjacketed, grabbing his arms behind his back. But Hearford realizes something, and Ejiro sadly realizes it too late as Hearford easily UNDERHOOKS the arms instead!

“Whoa whoa whoa!” says Bobbie, realizing what’s going on now, “He’s not gonna do this to his own partner!”

“Oh yes, Bobbie, yes he is! These two know every one of their partners moves,” says Comet as Justice lifts Rule up into the air in an Underhook, “But they aren’t expecting their own moves!”

The Judge lines him up in the center of the mat, holding him vertical before dropping him down on his head! The crowd goes wild as the Judge falls to the side next to the crumpled body of his tag partner!

“EJIROCATION! EJIROCATION!”

“How could he do that to his own partner?!”

“They’ve cheated against each other already, what’s so sacred about one of them stealing the other’s finisher?”

Back on the mat, Hearford takes a few deep breaths before he flips onto his belly, and he slowly crawls over Ejiro and drapes himself over his fallen comrade, hooking the leg for a pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEENO! NO NO NO! Ejiro kicks out of the double underhook piledriver and some fans cheer while others give an “Ooooooooooo!”

“The villain kicks out!” says Comet with astonishment in his voice, “I’m surprised he’s still alive, let alone still able to go on!”

“You and me both! I thought Ejiro was fricken dead!”

The Judge rolls off top of the man, a disappointed look on his face. He looks at Ordonez, who shows him two fingers, and hits his fist against the mat a few times in frustration before he gets up. Justice pulls Ejiro up as well, and swings his good arm at Fasaki for a sharp chop!

CHOP!

WHOO!

CHOP!

WHOO!

CHOP!

WHOO!

CHOP!

WHOO!

Ejiro is only stumbling on his feet, and the Judge lines up a lariat with his good arm, flattening Ejiro to the ground again! The crowd looks on as the Judge drops down for a count from Ordonez!

ONE!

TWO!

THREENO! Shoulder up, and the crowd cheers again as the match goes on! Hearford locks his arms around Ejiro’s waist, and he pulls him up to his feet, looking for a German Suplex. But Ejiro struggles, trying to break the waistlock. He hits the bad arm of the Judge with a hard back elbow, sending a shooting pain through Justice’s body. Another one, and the Judge lets go, allowing Ejiro to put on a ¾ Headlock and aim himself at the turnbuckle… but the Judge won’t move! He is able to hold Fasaki, back, not letting him attempt Sliced Bread #2. Well, one good turn deserves another…

*CRACK*

… And Ejiro drops straight down to the ground with a Diamond Cutter, to which the crowd explodes!

“SURPRISE WITNESS! The Judge blocked his own finisher, but just Ejiro he left himself vulnerable for his own!”

Ejiro lies on the ground for a moment, catching his breath as Justice doesn’t move an inch. And to a small pop (Which he doesn’t seem to acknowledge) he pushes the Judge over and falls on his chest, pushing down his arm for a pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREENO! NO NO NO! The Judge kicks out of his finisher and the crowd gives a pop and another “Ooooooooooooo!” Ejiro slides back onto the ground, looking surprised that didn’t finish it. He shouts at the Judge to “Just give it up, damn it!” before taking a deep breath and rising shakily to his feet.

“Ejiro asking the Judge to give up? You’d think he’d know it would be this tough with something like the big spot at Genesis on the line.”

“I don’t think it’s that, Bobbie,” Comet says, “I know this will be hard for you because you never had any friends-“

“-Hey, I had Outcast!”

“… As I said before, you never really had any friends, but true friends don’t like to beat each other up. While both of them seemed determined to win, they don’t enjoy having to kill their partner to do so.”

Taking a moment to steady himself on his sore legs, Ejiro goes back to work, pulling Hearford back off the ground. He shoots off a hard elbow right into the forehead of the old man, knocking him back a few feet. He nails the man once, twice, and a third time, leaving him barely standing in the middle of the ring. Taking a page from Danny Williams, Ejiro leans back against the ropes and comes in running as fast as he can with his bad legs for a big running elbow… but the Judge sidesteps it at the last moment! Instead, Ejiro nails CED Ordonez, who has been wandering a bit too close to the action. Ordonez falls to the mat clutching his face as Ejiro looks at him for a moment, mumbling a “Damn it” under his breath. He turns around towards a now-kneeling Judge, and the camera turns to face the old man, revealing him wrapping something around his fist…

“Great Memphis Tomfoolery, the Judge has a chain in his kneepad!” says Comet, “Some cheating can be forgiven, but that just may cross the line with Ejiro!”

“Not likely, Comet. You said these guys weren’t holding back, and the Judge has always had that thing on him. It’s all fair game with these two!

Ejiro begins to come over towards what he expects to be a still stunned Justice, pulling him up, but the old man turns around and clocks in right in the face with a chain-link fist! The crowd is furious at the action, booing as much as they can as Ejiro falls to the mat like a rock and the Judge drops back down, holding his sore arm and kicking his feet in pain. He quickly takes off the chain and slides it to the outside and after the pain in his arm subsides he goes over to Ordonez, pulling him up onto all fours. The still out of it Ordonez crawls up as Justice goes over to Ejiro and makes a pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREENO! The crowd just goes wild as Ejiro thrusts a shoulder up!

“Kickout! Fasaki just refuses to stay down!”

The Judge can’t believe it. “STAY DOWN, DAMN IT!” he yells frustrated, and Ejiro winces as if to say “NO!” The old man pushes off the ground, pulling up Ejiro in a waistlock with him. The younger man struggles, but Justice is resolute as he grabs Fasaki’s arms and pulls them in a straitjacket position. Ejiro doesn’t want to go over, but with a mighty yell Justice puts him over the top, planting him into the ground with a Straitjacket Suplex! He barely bridges it out, his hold on Ejiro a tenuous one because of his arm.

ONE!

TWO!

THRENO! Ejiro kicks out at the last second, and the Judge doesn’t like that call one bit. He pushes up off the ground angrily, looking at CED and holding two fingers up. The Judge argues for a second, suggesting that maybe the elbow knocked something lose in his brain, but suddenly he’s being pulled backwards! Ejiro has recovered, and he pulls his partner to the ground with a Schoolboy Rollup! The crowd cheers, until they see Ejiro grab a handful of tights, instead booing while CED crawls over for a count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREENO! The Judge barely kicks out in time, and he gives a silent “Damn” for nearly getting caught like a fool with a roll-up.

“The Judge got lucky there to kick out of a tights-assisted roll-up,” Riley, “But you really have to be amazed at Ejiro’s stamina. You just can’t keep him down for a second!”

“Yes, but the wicked never rest, Bobbie, and Ejiro is definitely pure evil. Just look how he keeps a free-spirit like Wildchild chained down!”

The Judge begins to get off the ground, but so does Ejiro. The Judge gets up and fires off a forearm… that Fasaki ducks! He lets it pass overhead and nails the Judge in the face with a hard elbow! The Judge stumbles back, and Fasaki keeps going, limping forwards and firing off elbow after elbow into the old man’s visage. He spins around once clockwise…

*CA-RACK!*

And nails him with a Screaming Elbow! His partner goes down in a heap near the side of the ring; the crowd is on the edge of their seats. Ejiro drops down for a cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THRENO! The Judge has his foot on the nearby ropes! Ejiro bangs his head against the mat for not seeing how close he was to the ropes. He stays on the ground for a moment, catching his breath after expending most of his energy in that comeback. Taking a deep breath, Ejiro pushes off the ground with his arms, and goes over to pull up the Judge off the ground. He takes the dazed old man up and tries to pull him down with a Fujiwara takedown, but the Judge instinctively blocks it, using all his might to stop him from being taken to the ground. Instead, he swings Ejiro around right into a knee to the gut, allowing him to pick him up onto his shoulders…

“This could be it!” says Riley, “After an Ejirocation and a chained fist there’s no way he can take the Verdict!”

The Judge readies him, preparing to slide him down into Tombstone Position, but Ejiro slides backwards, grabbing an inverted facelock! He turns the Judge around, shifting to a ¾ Headlock before he begins running towards the turnbuckle with his tired legs, climbing up and pushing off…

… But not with enough power to complete the move! His legs are too worn from the submissions and he himself just can’t seem to get over the hump, allowing Hearford to hold him in the air for a moment. And he makes good use of it, wrapping his own arm around Fasaki’s neck and making a half twist to end Ejirocution with a Surprise Witness! The crowd gives a small “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” chant as both men lie on the ground for a moment. Soon, the Judge begins to move, and he slowly puts himself over top of Ejiro for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

*DING DING DING*

“The winner of the match via pinfall AND the man advancing the Loser’s Bracket FINALS…. THE JUDGE, WILLIAM HEAAAAFOOOOORD!”

The crowd gives a mixed reaction, some of them booing as they still hate the Judge for who he is, others cheering for the fantastic match the two men just put on. The Judge slowly begins to get up to his feet, and he begins to pull up his almost dead partner off the ground. Ejiro, though, isn’t really in the mood to be helped right now: He’s gone so far in this tournament to only be shut down in the end by his best friend. Sliding out of the ring, he goes to the side to pickup his US Title Belt.

“Well, the best man won,” says Bobbie as CED Ordonez goes over and raises Hearford’s hand into the air.

“More like the lesser of two evils, Bobbie. Anyways, for t-“

But suddenly Comet stops himself as the crowd begins to spark up in confusion as a man steps onto the ramp. The man is black, and huge, with an incredibly chiseled physique. His hair is made up into half cornrows and half long and wild, and his face is hardened and unforgiving.

“Is that Bo?!” says Bobbie, not able to really make out who it is through the standing crowd members.

“No, Bo has retired for life…”

Meanwhile in the ring, the Judge has noticed the big man as he stands in the middle of the ring, and raises an eyebrow. The big man looks at the ring for another moment before he begins gallop down, his size becoming more apparent as he approaches the ring: This man is a monster.

“Dear God, he has to be 7 foot!” remarks Bobbie with a pinch of fear in his voice as the big man slides into the ring, getting up to full height. Hearford backs away, but the big man rushes right at him! Before his weary muscles can react, the big man pounds him with a wild punch that literally sends him staggering a yard or two. The old man falls to the ground as the big man takes up a ready stance, waiting for him to get back up. On the outside, Ejiro has gotten his belt but he watches in awe and indecision as the Judge slowly begins to get up…

*WHAM*

And is almost busted in two by a massive spear! He crumples to the ground lifelessly as the Giant begins to get back up.

“SWEET JESUS! COMET, DO SOMETHING! STOP HIM!”

“Thank you, Bobbie! CYCLOOOOOOOOONE COMET into ACTI-“ says the enthusiastic Superhero as he steps onto the table, but Riley immediately grabs him by his cape.

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING?! YOU HAVE TO PROTECT ME!”

“You wanted me to stop him!”

“WELL DO IT FROM HERE, DAMN IT! USE YOUR…. EYE BEAMS OR SOMETHING!”

Standing full height, the towering man begins to pull the Judge up again…

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

But gets a belt shot right to the back of the head from Ejiro! The diminutive man makes him take a step or so forwards, but it has little other effect as he swings around, grabbing his bear-like paws around Ejiro’s neck! Fasaki lifts his body up, putting his legs around the man’s arm and kicking him right in the face, but he’s too weak right now and this man doesn’t seem to feel pain. He shakes Fasaki’s leg off his arm and in one titanic motion he spins around, planting Ejiro right into the canvas with a spinning choke slam!

“No… no no NO NO NO! It couldn’t be that!” says Riley, full of panic.

“Yes it was,” says Comet in a grave voice, “That was Untamed, the Hville Thugg’s old finisher!”

“But that’s not Thugg! Who is this madman?!”

“I don’t know, Bobbie, I don’t know…”

The camera cuts away to the giant in the center of the ring, standing victorious over Justice and Rule. The shot begins to close in on his face, and it’s easy to see his rage filed features and his fiery eyes. A new force has come to the SWF.

And it has made its presence known.

SWF Smarkdown, September 7th, 2003.

“SWF: Raising Workrate By Typing Faster.”

September 9, 2003

Comment time!

First of all, major kudos to Ejiro Fasaki and Flesher/ Double Jeopardy, both of whom came darned close to winning with VERY entertaining matches. Ejiro's in particular was a helluva read.

Second, there was a double no-show. You all know how I feel, so I won't harp on it this time, since it doesn't seem to accomplish anything anyway.

Thirdly, and the reason the sho has put me in a good mood, are promos! Lots of them! Read them all!

Card up shortly.

Smarky McSmarkdown!

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