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Guest Suicide King


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Guest Suicide King

“It’s an exciting day here at Genesis 4, and one of the things that makes it so special is all of our old luminaries, retirees, former champions, all are here in attendance, giving this event an extra special feeling!” shouts Ben Hardy. “I’m going up to one of the luxury boxes to have an interview with former world champion, Thoth, who disappeared very mysteriously from the federation a few months ago. He was invited back here for one night, past issues forgotten.” He knocks on the door. “Mr. Thoth? It’s Ben Hardy, for the interview.”


“Come in,” returns the Balancer’s voice. The inside of the room is sparse; Thoth has no guests, and he doesn’t drink much, either. “Mr. Thoth, what do you think of Genesis so far?”


“I’m pleased. Good to see people from varying backgrounds come together by tearing at each other’s flesh. No better way to see that deep down, we all bleed.” He lets out an uncharacteristic laugh.


“Eh... heh heh. Well, is there any match in particular you’re looking forward to?”


“As a matter of fact, I am just dying to see my brother take on Edwin MacPhisto. That match sould have happened a long time ago.”


“You have a point, in that Edwin MacPhisto disappeared from the federation, somewhat like you did.”


“Hmm... indeed, now that I give it some thought, there is a similarity.”


“Do you have any preference on who wins that match?” asks Hardy, leaning in and pointing the microphone closer to Thoth, who sits back in deep thought. Does he have any preference as to who wins? He looks up at Hardy.


“No... no, I don’t have any preference as to who wins. None at all.”


“Thank you, Mr. Thoth.” He motions to Gus, who leaves in a quick hurry. Never a good idea to linger around the Balancer too long. Thoth sinks back into deep thought. He told the people watching a covenient lie. They wouldn’t understand the truth.


There would be no winner and no loser in that match tonight.


“Now, brother... don’t you disappoint me.”

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Guest Suicide King



Edwin MacPhisto

Age: 31

Height: 6'5"

Weight: 239lbs

Bench: 320lbs

Move List: 21 practiced moves, 5 variables.

Finisher(s): The Union Jack, Spinal Tap.

Accomplishments: IGNML Western United States Champion, SWF Tag Team Champion, SWF United States Champion, SWF ICTV Champion, SWF World Champion.

Last Five: N/A


Nathaniel Kibagami

Age: 31

Height: 6'5"

Weight: 268lbs

Bench: 440lbs

Move List: 22+ practiced moves, 5 variables.

Finisher(s): Flesh Into Gear, Rough Redemption II, The Demonstar Driver.

Accomplishments: IGNML Television Title, IGNML Western United States Title, IGNML World Title.

Last Five: 3-2-1


POWER ADVANTAGE: Nathaniel Kibagami






OVERALL ADVANTAGE: Nathaniel Kibagami

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Guest Suicide King

The sounds of “Rule Britannia” softly begin to play over the speakers as the camera switches to a shot of the cage that now surrounds the ring. Ring technicians scurry away, having completed their task, leaving the cage empty and more than a little ominous.


“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we come to what may be the most anticipated match in the history of the SWF.” Cyclone Comet looks uncommonly serious – there’s not even a conveniently-placed can of Pepsi MAX© nearby. “Edwin MacPhisto and Nathaniel Kibagami. Two men we never expected to see again after Genesis III, and certainly not facing each other. But fate has thrown these two together once again, and the results are going to be nothing short of cataclysmic.”


“Truer words were never spoken, Comet. Edwin MacPhisto is one of the greatest competitors to ever set foot inside a wrestling ring – nobody in their right mind would deny that. But he’s been out of action for almost a year, and Nathaniel Kibagami…well, he’s been making some changes in recent weeks. I don’t think agreeing to this match was a sound idea on MacPhisto’s part, but the Mac Daddy has never been one to deny the fans a show.”


The sound of a record scratching interrupts “Rule Britannia”, and the crowd is suddenly plunged into darkness. For a moment, nothing happens…but the fans know what’s coming.




They know who’s coming.




And they know what he’s here to do.




A familiar drumbeat stutters out of the speakers, and two bright blue (one might say bluer than blue) spotlights swirl out across the crowd, and they can suddenly hear his voice, like the voice of an old friend.


“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages…the Carnival’s in town and it’s winding down, but this loooooooooove rollercoaster has a couple more twists and turns left in it! Some people don’t like it, some people can’t stand it, and one man in particular wants to shut the whole thing down, tonight. But does your Mac Daddy want to see that happen? Oh no, he doesn’t, not quite yet. I am the conductor, and I decide when this train stops…and we haven’t reached the end of the line, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls.”


A familiar silhouette appears behind the curtains, flanked by two others – one smaller, one larger.


“My name is James Canterbury, and it always has been, but you know me as the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache…the Mac Daddy Supreme…the one and only…”




“What you see tonight is what you should remember! What you feel tonight is what you should believe! And if that’s not enough for some of you, then to the rest, step right up, and I humbly say…”






















The pyrotechnics are fantastic – every color, every direction; everything is lit up for the briefest of moments….




The smoke begins to clear…




And through it all…






On his left is Dace Night. On his right is Aecas -- the display of solidarity is admirable. And in between the two…his hair is fiery red, and the vinyl trenchcoat matches it beautifully. The shirt advertises nothing tonight – plain white; the man has dressed with the match in mind. The same acid-washed jeans, the same ladder-laced Docs; the same cocky smile we’ve come to expect from the man who is always on display.


“Ladies and gentlemen, introducing first…” Funyon can’t keep the note of pride out of his voice as Edwin steps into the ring after a handshake from both Dace and Aecas. “He hails from Leeds, England, and weighs in at two hundred and thirty-nine pounds. He is the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache…”




“…the Mac Daddy Supreme…”




“…and the reigning IGNML Dance-Off Champion…..of the WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORLD!”






MacPhisto stands in the center of the ring, both arms raised, simply BASKING in the spotlight for the first time in twelve months.






“They love him, Bobby. They love him like they’ve never loved anyone else. I’ve never seen anything like it.”


Riley raises an eyebrow. “Even you, Spandex Boy?”




“Even me, Bobby. Even me.”


The crowd buzzes with anticipation…and as they begin to settle back down, a video of Nathaniel Kibagami, his back to the crowd, begins to play on the SmarksTron. A haunting guitar echoes out over the crowd – the calm before the storm, in so many ways…










The distortion begins, and the lights flare up, nearly blinding the audience and the cameramen as it glints and shines off the marble-white columns around the entrance. The footage on the SmarksTron is replaced by an ankh – symbol of life and eternal salvation – engulfed in flames; engulfed by rage, by hate, and seven years of single-minded purpose….


Today, the warning came in the floooood…


Through the smoke, through the pyrotechnics, through the amazing amount of white light, Nathaniel Kibagami comes striding out of the curtains. His hair is bleached blond, nearly white, and it trails behind him in an almost ethereal fashion. His trenchcoat is white as well – an eerie variation on a theme best forgotten. There is nothing to see in his eyes except Edwin MacPhisto. The smile on his face betrays no joy, no elation. Simply satisfaction.


“Weighing in at two hundred and sixty-eight pounds, and hailing from Phoenix, Arizona…NATHANIEL “SILENT” KIBAGAAAAAAAAAAAMMIIIIIIII!”


(The three will…) Save…us…from…the bloooooooood…

We…will…droooooown…(…three will fall)


Kibagami wastes no time climbing into the ring – he doesn’t want to waste a moment of this valuable time he and Edwin are about to have. Sexton Hardcastle is outside the ring, in case somebody ends up being thrown from the cage and needs to be helped back in…but a look at the two man standing in the ring paints a very clear picture. This time, neither of them intends to run.


“Here we go, ladies and gentlemen. These two men have waited seven years for a shot at each other. As soon as Ced Ordonez locks that door…”


“Bobby, I’d like to be totally serious for a moment.” Cyclone Comet’s eyes hold no hint of sarcasm or mockery. “I’ve been part of some fantastic matches in my time, and I’ve watched a great deal more. I like to consider myself something of a veteran in this business. But that being said…I’ve never once seen a match with more animosity behind it than this match. What we see tonight is going to be…it’s going to be unique, Bobby.” Comet takes a deep breath. “And I hope I don’t see anything like it ever again.”


Ced Ordonez locks the door without so much as a word to either man – there’s no real need to explain the rules in this match. The only way there can be a disqualification is if one man leaves the cage voluntarily. The rule was made with James Canterbury in mind, but James Canterbury is not the man who stands across the ring from the Slaughterer.


A simple shot of Edwin MacPhisto’s face says everything the Crown Prince himself will not. He will not leave this ring tonight until the score is settled. He will not give in while the specter of Arizona is still present in this arena. He knows the odds are stacked against him, but he knows that the fans expect this performance from the man they have come to love, the man who was introduced to them as Edwin MacPhisto. For him, this is not about the match, nor is it about Nathan. MacPhisto has come here tonight to prove to the world – and to himself – that he is everything he claims and more. He has come here to prove that he has changed.


The camera switches briefly to Kibagami – to Silent. He is focused, he is prepared. His tattoos glisten underneath the spotlights; his bleached-blond hair is more than suggestive of the blood that will be spilled this evening. He knows the man standing across from him will fight until the bitter end. He knows there is a chance that this will be the second time in seven years he will be stretchered out of the ring. Despite this, there is still the slightest suggestion of a smile on his face. Seven years of his life have come down to this match, this opponent.


He still has the option to turn back, to find Angel, to find Yuuichiro, to go back to Aechiba and repair all the damage that has been done. But the last thing left to this man was hope, and when Edwin MacPhisto returned to a standing ovation, the last of that hope was dashed. He is what he is, and he does what he does. There are no longer any other options.


Ordonez signals for the bell.


For James Canterbury and Nathaniel Kibagami, this signals the beginning of the end.
















In the midst of the cheers of the crowd (and the cheers are trulydeafening tonight), Edwin and Silent stand in the center of the ring, simply staring at one another.


“It seems like neither man wants to make the first move, Bobby.”


”Or maybe neither man knows what move to make. This match is unique in SWF history, Comet. How do you approach a match this brutal without any sort of plan, any history to fall back on?”


”Don’t stay down, Bobby.” Comet grimaces. “You don’t stay down.”


The two men approach each other…and pause, neither one wanting to offer a lockup. Each man is unsure what the other can do after seven years apart.




Each man has no idea what the other’s limits are.




Each man can only rely on himself.


But how far is either man willing to go?




Kibagami feints to the left, then throws a high roundhouse with his right foot, and the crowd absolutely explodes in a frenzy of cheers as Edwin throws his forearms up to block it! The Crown Prince dances backwards, barely dodging a hard snap kick aimed at his ribs, before springing forward with a sidekick that misses by the smallest of margins! Kibagami retaliates with a swift kick to his opponent’s right thigh, and Edwin’s right hand shoots down to his leg instinctively. Silent aims a kick at MacPhisto’s head, but the Mac Daddy realizes his error and brings his right hand up to deflect the blow! Edwin tries to catch the Silent One in an unwary moment with a left-footed snap kick, but Silent smoothly catches MacPhisto’s leg! A pair of hard chops to the neck stagger the Mac Daddy, and –




A surprise enziguri knocks Silent flat on his back, and the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache lands on his feet!




“I’ve never seen anybody best the Crown Prince in a striking contest, and it looks like Kibagami won’t be the first!”


No sooner do the words leave Comet’s mouth, however, than the Slaughterer is back on his feet, surging up from the canvas and nearly cracking Edwin’s jaw with a hard elbow shot! Kibagami viciously grabs a handful of Edwin’s fiery red hair and pulls him into a hard knee strike! A flurry of knee strikes to the chest and ribs knocks the wind from the legendary MacPhisto and drives him towards the far wall of the cage…




“What a gamengiri from the Silent One!” Riley’s exclamation can barely be heard over the roar of the fans as Edwin MacPhisto – their hero – collapses to the mat!




“I stand corrected, Bobby. It would seem that Edwin’s time out of the ring has left him somewhat outclassed in the striking department! He’ll have to avoid a direct confrontation with those brain-scrambling kicks as much as he can.”






MacPhisto moves his hands from his face…




…and props them behind his head, a smirk on his face as Kibagami turns to survey his handiwork.






“GET UP!” screams the Silent One, but Edwin seems not to hear him, instead turning his head to Ced Ordonez, who can’t help but smile as he continues his count.






”What the hell is Edwin doing?”




”The smartest thing he can, Bobby.”




”He’s taking whatever breaks he’s offered!”




MacPhisto abruptly kips up to his feet, and he spreads his arms as if to say, “Ah, I had it under control all along!” Comet chuckles to himself, and even Bobby Riley has to smile a little as MacPhisto makes a show of brushing off his shirt and adjusting his hair.


“He’s still got it, Bobby. A year out of the spotlight and he’s still got it.”




Riley sighs. “I’ll give him that much, Comet. If he never wrestles another match, he’ll still know how to work a crowd.”




The crowd ERUPTS at the gesture, very nearly drawing the Crown Prince’s attention away from the oncoming Kibagami! The Silent One lunges forward with arms extended, looking to overpower the lanky MacPhisto in a lockup, but the originator of Logical Impact© will have none of it – Edwin meets Silent with a shotei to the solar plexus! Momentarily stunned, Kibagami staggers back, and MacPhisto tries to capitalize with an Irish whip, but the former Clansman instinctively reverses it and whips the Mac Daddy over his shoulder with an ippon seionage!


“Citizen Nathaniel’s ring instincts will serve him well in a match of this nature. He’s not as fast as MacPhisto, but he’s stronger and he’s tougher. If Edwin gets careless, Silent will – Kibagami will make him pay for it.”


Maintaining his grip on Edwin’s arm, Silent tries to cinch in a triangle choke and force Edwin into unconsciousness, but MacPhisto’s too quick – he slips deftly out of the Silent One’s grasp and catches hold of his right leg as he does so! Edwin pulls Kibagami’s leg up and back, cinching in a half-crab –




A nasty kick from the Slaughterer’s free leg catches the Crown Prince flush in the mouth, and he releases the half-crab as he staggers back!




“Kibagami’s flexibility is nothing short of remarkable, especially given the injuries he’s accumulated over the years.”


”He’s often been underestimated for just that reason, Bobby, but it doesn’t look like those injuries are going to slow him down tonight.”


Silent rises to his feet, shaking his right leg slightly to ensure it doesn’t cramp up on him later, as Edwin approaches the center of the ring, no worse for wear but decidedly more wary of his opponent. As soon as MacPhisto comes within arm’s reach, Kibagami lunges forward looking for a collar-and-elbow tie-up again, and this time the Mac Daddy obliges – and promptly finds himself shoved back into the ropes! Kibagami releases the hold and rears back –




A hard knife-edged chop draws a grunt from MacPhisto, who returns fire with a chop of his own!




Kibagami barely reacts, except to return the favor!






Edwin responds with another chop,




But again it has no effect! Thinking quickly as Silent brings his hand back for another knife-edged chop, Edwin blasts the larger man in the chest with a stiff shotei, sending Kibagami back a step! Silent is just as quick to compensate, however, as he steps back into another shotei and jars MacPhisto with an elbow strike! The Silent One grabs hold of Edwin’s hair and tries to fling him face-first into the steel cage, but the Mac Daddy grabs hold of cage with both hands and braces himself, keeping himself from becoming overly acquainted with the steel mesh that surrounds the ring! A sharp shin scrape forces Silent to release his grip on MacPhisto’s head, and the Crown Prince turns, grabs Silent’s head with both hands, and SLAMS his face into the cage to a roar of approval from the fans!


Edwin’s moment in the spotlight is short-lived, however – the Slaughterer whips back around to face his opponent and dives forward with a lariat, but MacPhisto sees it coming and ducks it! He pops up behind Silent before he can turn around, grabs a hasty facelock, and brings Kibagami crashing to the mat with a beautiful inverted DDT!


“I really think Edwin’s taking a big risk, showboating like that,” mutters Riley.


“They don’t call him the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache for no reason, Bobby! That DDT was perfectly placed and beautifully executed. Can the man help it if he makes it look good?”


Kibagami is only groggy for a brief moment, but a brief moment is all Edwin MacPhisto ever needs – the Mac Daddy goes right back to the half-crab, trying to prevent the Silent One from gaining his feet!


”The Crown Prince wisely attacking the legs of citizen Nathaniel – perhaps the wisest course of action one can undertake in a match being contested under Last Man Standing rules.”


Riley scoffs derisively as Edwin desperately tries to avoid Kibagami’s free leg. “You would think so, Comet, but look how far that strategy got Chris Raynor.” Comet pales slightly and opens his mouth to rebut, then closes it again – the comparison is too accurate for comfort.


Frustrated by Silent’s resolve, MacPhisto simply dodges another wild kick and grabs hold of his opponent’s left leg with his free arm, transitioning to a Boston crab – which Kibagami promptly powers out of, sending MacPhisto to his hands and knees as the Slaughterer pulls his powerful legs out of the Mac Daddy’s grasp.


“THAT’S the problem with trying to take out Kibagami’s legs, Comet. He’s too quick with his feet, and he hits you too hard. Edwin’s got to find a better way to go about this.”


Silent turns to see MacPhisto rising to his feet – he catapults himself into a shoulder tackle from a kneeling position, catching Edwin in the stomach and driving him back into the turnbuckles! MacPhisto doubles over, the wind knocked out of him, as Silent stands up…










…and kicks the taste out of the former champion’s mouth! Ordonez tries to force his way in between the two to check on MacPhisto’s condition. The camera switches to a frontal shot of Edwin’s face…




…just as Kibagami unloads with a vicious snap kick to the Mac Daddy’s jaw! The crowd winces sympathetically as MacPhisto collapses on the bottom rope, his eyes slightly glazed from the sheer impact of the kick.










Edwin shakes his head quickly and rises to his knees, trying to focus himself on the match instead of the stinging pain in his jaw.




MacPhisto rises to his feet – no kip-up, no acknowledgement of the crowd that is so wildly chanting his name. That kick hurt his pride, but not as much as it hurt his jaw.


“Edwin looks a little shaken in there, Comet – it is possible he’s actually underestimated Silent?”


”I doubt he’s underestimated him at all, Bobby, but the man’s been out of active competition for almost a year. It takes some time to get used to things again. It takes time to come to expect the sort of ferocity citizen Nathaniel routinely displays in the ring, and time is not a luxury the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache has at the moment…”


MacPhisto steels himself as the Silent One approaches, intent on capitalizing on the Mac Daddy’s ringing ears and clouded head. That kick hurt his pride, and it hurt his head, but it seems to have woken him up. This is no time for showboating; he needs a plan if he’s going to have a shot at winning.


Time to step it up a notch.










And the Crown Prince sets up for the final swing, shadowboxing and bouncing like Ali on PCP…




But the chant ends on a touch of disappointment as Silent stumbles under a thick right hook! “Cocktail for Kibagami, but Edwin can’t quite deliver the Shame!” calls Riley, and as Edwin swings back to recover, the Silent One counters with an uppercut of his own…only to have the Mac Daddy snare the arm in his own.


“Another counter! Justice is served!” The crowd whoops along with Comet as Edwin plants his feet and re-directs his weight, pulling Kibagami around with a standing arm drag, and dodging a hasty back elbow to secure a tight rear headlock. The Silent One doesn’t even have time to thrash as Edwin points to the mat, nods to an exuberant crowd, takes two running steps forward…




…and cracks his own knees into Silent’s jaw with a voracious swinging bulldog! “Midnight Special!” cries Comet. “It’s been too long!” The crowd starts up another riotous chant as Edwin rolls to his feet and leisurely brushes himself off in Kibagami’s direction. Imaginary dust flutters down as Edwin raises his arms to an ovation…that suddenly turns sour!


“I can’t believe it! The ref didn’t even get down to count!” calls Comet, while Riley gives a derisive snicker. Nathaniel Kibagami rolls to his side and then up to his feet, rushing towards Edwin, who regards him, turns back to the fans, does a bug-eyed double-take, and then breaks for the ropes! “MacPhisto’s not going to take Kibagami’s sudden resurgence lying down!” The Silent One braces himself with a low growl and rushes towards the now-oncoming Edwin, who extends his arm to the right.


“Lariat coming up!” shouts Riley, but as Silent starts to move into a dodge, Edwin pulls the arm back in and leaps! The crowd roars as he extends his leg and broadsides the unprepared Silent with a heavy springing sidekick!


“Look at that, Bobby! Edwin, the innovator supreme, fakes out Kibagami and the Silent One pays. Silent just can’t catch a break here tonight, and I’m beginning to think he’s regretting handing out such a heavy challenge to his Hall of Famer adversary!”


“Just wait, just wait. I’m sure he’s going to sit up again and annihilate Edwin in about 3 seconds.”




And Edwin drops a stiff knee across Kibagami’s right calf!


“…Or not.”


The referee calls “ONE!”, but Edwin waves him off and goes back in with another knee drop, and then another fast one on its heel. The Mac Daddy pulls the right leg up and starts to twist it into the rushed figure of a four, but a frustrated Silent raises a boot towards Edwin’s posterior and simply shoves him away mid-lock. MacPhisto staggers a step away, then turns back and drills a diving elbow right into Silent’s chest. “You don’t kick a man in the bottom,” nods Comet, “unless you’re in the mood for some payback!” A bit miffed, Edwin yanks the stunned Kibagami up off the mat, whipping him towards the ropes. Kibagami hits hard and the cage shakes, giving the fans something to cheer about, and Edwin gives them something else with a dash forward and a basement dropkick right into Kibagami’s knee! It buckles, and Edwin quickly dives in for another. “Edwin slicing and dicing Silent’s leg, a pretty potent distraction in a match like this. Any significant damage has to be thought about long-term; if your options are limited in a last man standing match, you can basically throw in the towel in the late game!”


“Late game?” mutters Riley, as Edwin pulls Kibagami up and pops a swift shotei into his chest. “There won’t be any late game if Kibagami can hit the Demonstar Driver.”


“And if you think Edwin MacPhisto of all people, the first man to use the move in this fed, doesn’t know how to counter that…well, Bobby, you’re nuttier than I thought!” Edwin gives his palm a little kiss and his hips a little swing as he pops another shotei into Silent’s ribs, but this time Silent comes back with a sharp forearm across the jaw! Edwin reels and the crowd groans, but the Crown Prince comes back with a rising shotei…that barely budges Kibagami, who forces forward with a cracking elbow across the jaw. The fans give a bit of a roar as the strikes heat up, and Edwin staggers back, clutching his jaw and looking for one crucial palm strike…only to find himself nearly beheaded in the windup as Silent rushes forward with a tremendous lariat! “WHOA!” hollers Comet, and viewers cringe as Edwin briefly folds up and meets the mat!


“There’s the turnaround!” hollers Riley, and Edwin crumples up on the mat as Silent walks off the shoteis, coming back around to his prey a few seconds later. The referee starts the count…




“He certainly won’t stay down for long…”




“It’s all about setup, Comet!”


THREE—and Edwin pushes up to his knees! The crowd cheers, but Edwin rises right into Kibagami’s grasp, and the former Clansman pauses for a moment, glaring into Edwin’s eyes, down at the relatively unblemished white shirt.


That could use a change.


With utmost force, Silent HURLS Edwin into the cage, and the wiring bends outward as the Mac Daddy collides face first with the mesh! Silent drags Edwin’s jaw across the cage once, and then pounds his elbow into the base of Edwin’s skull, driving his face up against the wire and leaving a patchwork grid of scrapes on those impeccable British cheeks. “This cage has the potential to be a real game breaker tonight,” says Comet…


“…or a facebreaker, in Edwin’s case!” Riley finishes the thought in his own special way, and, tiring a bit of elbow points to the head, Kibagami pulls Edwin off the cage, smoothly, fluently, into a facelock…and down into a picture-perfect DDT! The ring rocks with the impact, and Edwin’s face leaves the faintest trail of crimson behind on the canvas. He pushes himself up to an elbow, dizzily shaking off the impact, but Kibagami wastes no time and jerks Edwin up from the mat, locking on a ¾ facelock. “Something big coming up…” But as Kibagami takes a step forward, the groggy Edwin plants his feet and shoves the Silent One towards the cage. Caught off-guard, Silent tries to tighten his grip, but one hand slips off Edwin and the Mac Daddy plants him into the steel with another defiant shove! The Silent One has a close encounter with the residue of Edwin’s previous expedition to the steel, but he’s suddenly pulled back as the Mac Daddy wraps his arms around Kibagami’s waist!


“And Edwin’s got another counter lined up, and this time…”




“It’s big!” The crowd goes wild as Edwin peels Silent off the cage with a stiff German suplex, planting Kibagami on the back of his neck and stealing the momentum back to his side! Edwin takes a moment to collect himself, pulling up on the 2nd rope, and the ref starts to make the call!
















Kibagami stirs…






And as he starts to get up, Edwin takes him right back down with a quick lunge and a rear choke. Edwin powers down with all his right, snaking his right arm around Kibagami’s throat, batting away the errant hand that flies up to keep him away…and yanks back to lock in the Dragon sleeper! Poised over Kibagami’s back, Edwin tries to shift his weight down and flatten his opponent out even further…


“Crown Prince Clutch from Edwin MacPhisto!” says Comet with glee. “That dragon sleeper is going to put a lot of wear on Kibagami if Edwin can keep it any for any length of time. Between this and those chip shots at the knees, it looks like Edwin’s going for a policy of total weardown – the same sort of varied attack that helped him beat the Hville Thugg in that landmark Last Man Standing for the world title!”


“Oh please, hyperbole much?” snips Riley, as Edwin keeps the pressure on. The crowd pounds and claps for him to crank it up, but Kibagami won’t give, not kicking his feet, not releasing his pain in any fashion beyond clenched jaw, gritted teeth, and a persistent attempt to shift his weight towards his knees. “Edwin won THAT match because of two big black guys beating each other up while he picked up the scraps…” Back in the ring, Kibagami gets his center of gravity in the right place, using his size advantage to rock backwards…and start to elevate himself, even with the 230-pound Brit clinging to his back like an orangutan on PCP! The crowd’s pounding changes direction as an impressed murmur shoots through the Garden, and with a snap back of his head, Kibagami cracks a headbutt into Edwin’s jaw and gets vertical, bucking the Crown Prince entirely! Edwin lands a bit discombobulated but not too out of sorts, and he clambers up to his feet to return the charge. Unfortunately for him, Silent is also up, working out the kinks in his thick neck, and ready to snap Edwin right back down with a hiptoss!


The Mac Daddy rolls through it and comes to his feet just in time to meet a charging Kibagami with a hard shotei right in the face! The Silent One staggers, but does not fall – which works to Edwin’s advantage, for once. He cinches Nathan up for a suplex and manages to lift him without too much trouble…then spins 180 degrees before PLANTING Kibagami’s unprotected skull on the canvas! A collective gasp goes up from the crowd, all of them too aware of the Silent One’s bad neck, as MacPhisto rolls to his feet and turns to survey the damage.




”Edwin quick to capitalize, going right for the jugular, as it were! All it’s going to take is one false move on Kibagami’s part –”




“– he could be out of this match like that!” Comet snaps his fingers underneath Riley’s nose for emphasis.




Kibagami pushes himself up to his hands and knees. He grits his teeth, though whether he’s in pain or simply frustrated with himself is uncertain.






SIIIIII – the Silent One stands, wincing a little at the pain in his neck as he does so.




“And MacPhisto’s not giving him a moment’s respite!”






A volley of snap kicks to the right knee stagger the former Clansman, sending him hobbling towards the ropes in an attempt at avoiding the Mac Daddy’s vicious strikes.




Another snap kick causes the knee to buckle ever so briefly, and Kibagami stumbles to one knee –




– before flooring the Hall of Famer with a hard gamengiri! Edwin topples to the mat, holding his head in his hands, as Silent pulls himself back up using the ropes, trying to shake off the damage done to his leg. Seeing MacPhisto incapacitated, the Slaughterer quickly turns the Crown Prince over onto his stomach and applies a double underhook –




–and pulls MacPhisto to his feet –




Only for the Mac Daddy to backdrop out of the Demonstar Driver!


”I think that’s the first real counter to the Demonstar we’ve seen, isn’t it?”


”It is, Bobby! Nobody knows that move better than MacPhisto – he’s going to avoid it in ways we’ve never thought of!”


”Like a backdrop?”


”I mean later, Bobby.”


Kibagami staggers to his feet – and Edwin MacPhisto is right behind him, trying to lift Nathan up for the Union Jack! The crowd begins to stir, anticipating the move that could potentially end Kibagami’s career, but the Silent One is fighting it, and the Crown Prince doesn’t seem to be making any progress! The two men struggle against one another for a long moment...


…then Edwin smoothly repositions his arms and pulls Nathaniel down…




…right into the Encore Cross!








”Encore Cross, and Silent has to beat the count!”


The Mac Daddy kips up to his feet and raises his arms in a gesture of victory – while on the canvas, Silent lies perfectly still.




”Edwin’s been a step ahead all night, Bobby –“




“–and Kibagami’s going to have trouble catching up after this!”












Silent lies perfectly still.
















Silent sits up.






Stunned by his opponent’s resiliency, Edwin charges in for a seated dropkick, but Kibagami rolls out of the way at the last possible instant, leaving MacPhisto open for a sharp boot to the head!






A hard shot to the ribs lifts MacPhisto a few inches off the canvas and into a standing position. He stumbles back, clutching his ribs, trying to collect himself,




But Kibagami just won’t give him that moment he needs! Edwin throws a high roundhouse of his own, trying to force his opponent back, but the Silent One just steps into the kick and catches the brunt of it on his shoulder! Before the Crown Prince can retract his leg, Kibagami spins him around and hooks his hands around MacPhisto’s body, pinning the Mac Daddy’s right leg against his chest, and SLAMS him shoulders and neck-first into the canvas with a cradle suplex!






Comet winces as Kibagami stands, leaving Edwin in a heap on the mat. “That’s GOT to hurt.”




“Edwin’s staying ahead, all right, but he’s got to hit harder to put down the Silent One!”




FIIII – MacPhisto rolls to his feet, but his expression betrays him – he’s not fully recovered; he’s still dazed and confused, as it were. He wipes the blood from his face and braces himself against the cage with one hand, trying to collect his thoughts.




But whatever he’s thinking is driven forcefully out of his head as the Slaughterer sandwiches the Hall of Famer’s head between the steel cage and a size fourteen boot! Edwin crumples against the ropes, and Kibagami brings his foot back down, actually slipping a little thanks to the blood that now covers his boot. The Slaughterer tries to pull Edwin off the ropes, but the Mac Daddy is dead weight – between the Yakuza kick and the blood loss, he’s barely there. An idea forms in Silent’s mind.


This can end. Now.


Hooking his opponent’s arms, Kibagami heaves and lifts MacPhisto into position for the Demonstar, making the execution seem almost effortless, fluid, natural.




“Silent’s setting up for the Demonstar – it’s OVER if he hits this!”


”I hope not, Bobby.” Comet bites his lip as Kibagami hooks Edwin’s arms. “I hope it’s not the end.”












Silent hesitates, briefly – even he is affected by the palpable energy from the crowd. And in that moment of hesitation, Edwin MacPhisto springs to life.


The Crown Prince of Flash and Panache backflips out of the Demonstar Driver, landing in a three-point stance! Kibagami’s too stunned by MacPhisto’s second wind to dodge the basement dropkick that takes his knee out from under him, and he’s in no position to dodge the enziguri that sends him crashing to the mat! Ignoring the crowd for once, the Mac Daddy hurriedly pulls the groggy Silent One to his feet and whips him into the turnbuckle, following it up with a picture-perfect running dropkick!


“Edwin’s found his second wind, Bobby – and it looks like he’s setting up for something big!”


MacPhisto cinches Silent up and lifts him onto the top rope, but Nathaniel’s not out of it yet – he still has the common sense to shove Edwin off the top rope as he climbs and buy himself some time to clear his head. Not to be denied, MacPhisto springs back to his feet and up onto the second rope. Kibagami tries to knock him down again with an elbow, but the Mac Daddy dodges out of the way, springs onto the second rope…




…and scrambles Silent’s brains with another hard enziguri to the back of the head!


“Nathan’s out of it, Comet! This could be Edwin’s big chance!”


Edwin climbs from the second rope to the top, and the crowd is completely rabid as he does so –




As he cinches Kibagami up and turns to face the ring, everybody knows what’s coming. MacPhisto leaps, Silent in tow, and he pushes his opponent forward…









“AIR MACPHISTO!” screams Comet.


“That’s got to be all!” declares Riley.


Edwin MacPhisto – tired, bloodied, but ultimately pleased with himself – rolls to the ropes and starts to pull himself up.


Ced Ordonez begins to count.






”What a match!”


MacPhisto makes it to his feet, elated to be alive as the crowd continues chanting his name!








”What a culmination of this man’s career! What a stunning way to –“


”Um, Comet?”




”Check your monitor.”


The chants –




–begin to change.




MacPhisto turns back to the ring. Back to Ced Ordonez.


Back to a prone Nathaniel Kibagami….






Kibagami is on one knee.








Two knees.








In the center of the ring. No ropes to pull himself up. No cage to latch onto.


No title. No stable. No tag partner. No friends.


Just one overriding, all-consuming mission.







No matter what happens.


No matter the price.


He will break Edwin MacPhisto.



























”How the hell did he do that??!? Comet, what the hell…?”


”I don’t know, Bobby! All I can think of is that maybe, just maybe, Kibagami has just as much heart as MacPhisto ever has! I don’t think Edwin expected this at all! We’re not done just yet, ladies and gentlemen…!” Comet pauses; something on the monitors catches his eye.


“I can’t believe he’s standing, Comet. I’ve never seen a man get up from the Air MacPhisto; I don’t think anyone’s EVER won a match after taking it, at least! Kibagami should be near-unconscious right now!”


Comet simply stares at the monitor, seemingly lost in thought. He looks at the eyes of Nathaniel Kibagami. Eyes that burn with hatred, not with heart.


“Bobby…it’s not often that I say this, but I think you were right.”


Silent drunkenly stumbles out of the way of a springing sidekick and turns around –




– into a VICIOUS gamengiri from MacPhisto! The SWF legend lands on his feet and gets a tremendous pop from the crowd as he does so, but the cheers don’t register with him immediately; he stands for a moment, staring down at a man who should not still be in this match.


Riley turns to his companion, and his eyes light up as he does so. “I’m sorry, Comet, I don’t think I heard you correctly. What did you just say?”


”I said, I think you were right.” Comet pauses.


“I think Edwin has underestimated Silent.”


The expression on MacPhisto’s face is that of a man hounded and dogged for years – a man that has finally come face to face with his pursuer because he has failed to outrun him. Edwin’s made a mistake by bringing the Air MacPhisto out too early, and he knows it. He can’t take Silent’s kicks away, and he can’t count on his fall-back move – a move that has never failed him before – so he takes the only option left to him as Ced begins to count – he climbs onto the wall of the cage to attempt a high-risk maneuver, and prays that Silent won’t get up.












As soon as Ordonez stops counting, he knows what’s happened. A split-second later, the chants begin:




He tries to scramble back down the cage, tries to keep his feet beneath him, but a massive hand closes around his ankle, and he looks down into the abyss for the first time tonight.


Silent is up.


A harsh tug down pulls Edwin’s hands from the cage, and his legs slip out from under him, in between the ropes and the cage. He manages to catch himself before he lands face-first on the steel, but that instinctive motion leaves him unable to break the waistlock he suddenly finds himself caught in! MacPhisto makes one last lunge for the cage, trying to find purchase, leverage, something, anything, but Kibagami is simply too strong.




Madison Square Garden EXPLODES in a frenzy of “HO-LY SHIT!” chants as the Silent One plants MacPhisto almost squarely on his skull with a slingshot German suplex! The Slaughterer leans against the ropes, still feeling the effects of the Air MacPhisto, as the Crown Prince comes to a stop face-down in the center of the ring!


“My God! That’s it! That’s the match, right there!” exclaims Bobby. “There’s no way Edwin gets up from that!” Comet stares dumbfounded at his monitor – the man who put Neilsen through a table from the wall of the Hell in a Cell is stunned by what he’s just seen.




A harsh tug down pulls Edwin’s hands from the cage, and his legs slip out from under him, in between the ropes and the cage. He manages to catch himself before he lands face-first on the steel, but that instinctive motion leaves him unable to break the waistlock he suddenly finds himself caught in! MacPhisto makes one last lunge for the cage, trying to find purchase, leverage, something, anything, but Kibagami is simply too strong.




Madison Square Garden EXPLODES in a frenzy of “HO-LY SHIT!” chants as the Silent One plants MacPhisto almost squarely on his skull with a slingshot German suplex! The Slaughterer leans against the ropes, still feeling the effects of the Air MacPhisto, as the Crown Prince comes to a stop face-down in the center of the ring!




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Guest Suicide King







MacPhisto is nearly unconscious on the canvas.




If Silent leaves him to stand on his own, there’s a good chance he’ll win the match.




But this is not the way he wants to win.


SIIII – Ordonez stops the count, a puzzled expression on his face as Silent steps over MacPhisto and sits in the middle of the Mac Daddy’s back, seemingly positioning himself for a camel clutch – the New York crowd expects it, and they begin to cheer for what they perceive as Kibagami going after Edwin’s neck…but the cheers die away as, on the SmarksTron, they see Nathan pull MacPhisto’s arms around his throat and pull them back, applying a thoroughly illegal choke hold with the Crown Prince’s own hands!


“…that’s the Grudge!” The realization dawns on Riley just after it becomes apparent to the fans. “Silent is using The Grudge – a hold that nearly cost Edwin his match at Genesis III!”


”Citizen N…Silent won’t be satisfied with a victory here, Bobby.” Comet’s use of the name seems to solidify the situation in the minds of the fans as they begin to show their support for the Crown Prince. “He’s only got one goal in mind, and I’m afraid we all know too well what it is.”




The Mac Daddy’s name rings out through the arena, but the man himself is simply too drained after taking the slingshot German to do anything about his current predicament. There’s no rope break, there’s no disqualification – Ordonez knows the hold is illegal, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. All Edwin can do is ride it out and hope he doesn’t black out.




It seems like an eternity before Silent releases the hold, but eventually, he tires of it and releases MacPhisto’s arms – Edwin’s hands fly to his throat, trying futilely to somehow soothe the coughing jag that follows such abuse of his windpipe. Kibagami stands leisurely, without any appearance of urgency – he has the match in hand now, and he knows it. MacPhisto is at his mercy for the first time in the last seven years.


Payback, as always, is a bitch.
































Having rained kicks down on Edwin’s head, shoulders, ribs, and back, the Slaughterer finally relents, slightly winded from the exertion.






Silent takes a step back, surveying his handiwork with a certain amount of cold satisfaction.




MacPhisto plants his palms on the mat, trying to force himself to his feet – but his body doesn’t want to cooperate.




He gets his knees underneath him, and pushes himself up to one knee.






Tentatively, the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache rises to his feet.




“I don’t know how he’s doing it, Bobby! Edwin can’t be all there after that German. Has he suddenly become a glutton for punishment?”


“Comet, I don’t have an answer for you. The way this match is going, Edwin’s going to need a miracle to pull this one out of the fire – he’s totally at Silent’s mercy right now!”


Amidst the cheers, Silent is furious – how dare he have the audacity to stand?




A snap kick to the ribs doubles the Mac Daddy over, and Silent grabs a hasty headlock – he heaves up and back, the veins in his neck nearly popping out from the strain, as he lifts MacPhisto from the canvas by his neck and takes him over with the Downshifter Suplex! The side of Edwin’s head bounces off the canvas in sickening fashion, and Ordonez begins the count again!












Somehow, MacPhisto pushes himself up to his knees.






Silent leans back against the ropes – he looks almost curious as he watches the Crown Prince struggle to stand.




With a hand on the ropes, MacPhisto pulls himself to his feet – unsteady, but standing…





With a small shake of his head, as if to say, “I didn’t want to do this, but I guess you’re going to force me too, aren’t you?”, Kibagami springs off the ropes and sprints towards the half-dazed MacPhisto, looking to put him down for the count with the Burning Lariat he’s used so many times before…


– but MacPhisto dodges another bullet by sidestepping the lariat!


”Edwin’s not out of it yet! He’s still got a shot –“


The Crown Prince of Flash and Panache stays true to his name, grabbing an inverted facelock before the Slaughterer can turn around! Silent can feel his opponent start to turn to the right, but he’s powerless to stop it –










“I don’t believe it! I honestly don’t believe it!”








Silent shakes his head and rises to one knee – and so does Edwin MacPhisto.




”Believe it, Bobby! Edwin MacPhisto is the best there’s ever been!”




”And Silent is going to have to bring the best he’s got –“




“–if he thinks for one minute—“


Silent rises to his feet –




–turns around –


“–he’s going to keep him this man down!”






– into a HARD snap kick from the Mac Daddy! The crowd cheers – no, roars – no, screams

as MacPhisto drives Silent back towards the ropes with shotei after snap kick after spinning back elbow! Two quick bitchslaps send the crowd into an absolute FRENZY as Silent actually reels backwards from the stinging blows!


”He’s feeling it, Bobby! COCKTAIL O’ SHAME, ON THE ROCKS!”


Edwin pauses slightly – perhaps a second of hesitation – to add the pelvic thrust that has always popped the crowd wherever he’s gone, and tonight is no exception; every man, woman, and child in Madison Square Garden is on their feet for this. Silent on the ropes, the Mac Daddy back in charge, putting on a show for the people before winning in style –


– Silent catches the shotei in one massive, outstretched hand, and the crowd catches its breath. Faster than anyone would think he could move, Nathaniel Kibagami spins Edwin around and grabs hold of his waist, lifts him up, and begins to turn…






The Silent One brings the Crown Prince down hard enough to shake the ring and the cage that surrounds it; the crowd simply deflates as MacPhisto lies prone, unable to defend himself…






”Come on, Edwin!”




“You can do this, damn it!”


“He’s done, Comet!”




“That move was absolutely…”




Riley’s breath catches in his throat.




Edwin MacPhisto is getting up.


“LET’S GO ED-WIN!” *clap clap clapclapclap*




“LET’S GO ED-WIN!” *clap clap clapclapclap*




“LET’S GO ED-WIN!” *clap clap clapclapclap*




MacPhisto stands.






The crowd is electrified, the announcers are in shock, and Nathaniel Kibagami is absolutely BESIDE himself as the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache slowly, carefully makes his way towards him.


“How?” Bobby Riley is finally lost for words. “How is he doing this?” There is no smart remark, no offhanded criticism. “How is Edwin still standing?” For once, there is nothing to criticize.


Comet simply smiles. Perhaps he understands, perhaps he doesn’t. Perhaps there’s no other way for him to respond.


“He’s Edwin MacPhisto, Bobby. What else is he going to do? Lose?”


MacPhisto fires off a kick at Kibagami’s right knee, but it has no effect – the Slaughterer merely shrugs it of and replies with a hard chop to the neck.




The crowd doesn’t respond – how can they? – ; Edwin staggers, but does not fall.




Another snap kick finds its mark, but there’s not much behind it.




Silent retalitates with an elbow to the jaw, and MacPhisto stumbles back. He regains his footing, but he looks shaky – it’s taken everything he has just to get up from the Rough Redemption. The Silent One senses weakness, and he moves in for what he perceives to be the kill.




Another elbow sends Edwin to one knee, and the fans are growing concerned now. The Slaughterer measures his opponent for a roundhouse kick ...


























…and doubles over in pain as Edwin uppercuts him squarely in the groin!


”GALATEA SPECIAL!” roars Cyclone Comet, and the fans are INSANE with joy as MacPhisto pushes himself back to his feet!


“Is that move legal?!?”


”Does it matter?”


The Mac Daddy pulls Silent to his feet and positions himself back-to-back with him, looking for the Union Jack, but the Slaughterer comes to life and tightens his own grip on Edwin’s arms, trying to lift him for his old crucifix powerbomb!


”Kibagami’s still fighting, and he’s looking to counter the Union Jack with the Fall From Grace! Does either man have enough left in the tank to hit a move like this so late in the match?”


Slowly, inexorably, despite Edwin’s kicking and straining, Silent manages to lift the Mac Daddy off his feet and into position. He seems poised to powerbomb MacPhisto directly into the cage…






...but Edwin slips out of his arms and turns around…




…hooking a full nelson on the way down…





…and sweeps a very surprised Silent’s legs out from under him!
























“Is he allowed to do that?”






Edwin MacPhisto pushes himself to his feet and wipes the blood from his forehead, a wry grin on his face as he hears the chants echoing across the arena for the first time in nearly eighteen months…




…and Silent is stirring on the canvas behind him.




The Slaughterer rises to his hands and knees, and his blood-drenched hair hangs ominously over his face.




He’s very, very angry.




Not wanting to give Silent any time to recover, Edwin quickly pulls the larger man to his feet and applies a double underhook! He raises his right arm briefly and waves it over his head – he knows Mark is watching the monitors backstage. No reason not to say hello –




With a tremendous yell, Silent backdrops out of the Walk-Off! MacPhisto is stunned, but he recovers quite well, managing to turn a somersault in midair and land on his feet, but the Silent One is a step ahead of him – grabbing hold of Edwin’s left arm and draping it over his shoulder and grabbing MacPhisto’s left leg with his free hand, he lifts the Crown Prince from his feet and spins back…




“The Stigmata! That’s Spider Nekura’s old finishing move! Silent has stooped to truly criminal methods to win this match!”


“He’s doing what comes naturally, Comet! He’s just…” Riley trails off as he realizes exactly what he’s saying. “…doing what has to be done?”


Not waiting to see if The Stigmata will be enough, Silent stumbles to his feet and pulls a near-lifeless MacPhisto up with him. The Slaughterer picks him up for a scoop slam…and transitions into the setup for a cradle tombstone piledriver!



“Silent’s going for Riot of the Blood! He knows Thoth is watching from the skybox…”


”What if this ends the match…?”


The fans desperately chant MacPhisto’s name, trying in vain to awaken their hero…and something gets through to him – the Mac Daddy kicks his legs, shifts his weight, and puts two hundred and thirty-nine pounds of flash and panache squarely on Kibagami’s shoulders, forcing the ex-Clannite to topple backwards! MacPhisto manages to break the fall with his outstretched feet and, with the last of his strength, pulls Silent into position for a tombstone! Edwin locks his hands together –




–and sits out, compacting Kibagami’s neck in a VERY uncomfortable fashion!






Edwin rolls away from a lifeless Silent One and wearily rises to one knee. The cuts on his forehead have finally stopped bleeding…




“This has got to be the end for Nathan! I don’t care what kind of surgery he had –“




“– he CAN’T get back up from that one!”




”I don’t think I’ve even SEEN somebody take a sit-out Riot of the Blood before, Bobby!”


























Silent pushes himself to his hands and knees.







One knee.
























”There’s no way.”
















Despite everything they’ve seen tonight, Madison Square Garden can’t help but chant his name. Because despite his injuries, despite his opponent, despite the fact that he never should’ve stepped back into a wrestling ring after what happened in Phoenix seven years ago –







Nathaniel Kibagami stands.





A gamengiri from MacPhisto staggers the Silent One…but he does not fall. Undaunted, the Mac Daddy lands on his feet –




– and connects with an enziguri, and THAT is enough to put the Slaughterer down again! Stumbling into the ropes, Edwin takes a breather, knowing that Silent has had enough.






Praying that he cannot get back up.






Hoping as hard as he can –




–that nothing else will be necessary –









Silent sits up.


“No.” Comet’s voice is barely a whisper as Silent slowly, painfully forces himself to stand. “There’s no way he’s doing this on his own. I’ve heard rumors backstage –“




”– painkillers and anabolics and God knows what else—“




”– damage he’s done to himself must be incredible—“


“COMET!” Bobby’s shouting snaps Comet out of his reverie. “Look at the monitor, Comet!”




Against all logic, MacPhisto is struggling to lift Kibagami for the Union Jack, but his body has nothing left to give him. Despite his best efforts, the Crown Prince of Flash and Panache finds himself lifted off the mat and into the crucifix position. He kicks his feet in vain as the Silent One starts his run towards the cage…







The back of MacPhisto’s head bounces sharply off the cage and slams into the mat, the rest of the Mac Daddy’s limp body trailing behind him! Kibagami collapses to a sitting position, exhausted by the effort.


Comet has nothing to say. Bobby has nothing to say. The only thing that needs to be heard…




…is the count.








MacPhisto stirs.


Impossibly, he moves.




He’s close enough to the ropes that he can grab them. And he does.




He pulls himself to one knee.




He stops.




The look of concern on Ced’s face is heartbreaking – but he cannot bring himself to count faster.


Not when MacPhisto’s on two knees.




Edwin grabs hold of the top rope. His hands are slick with his own blood – the Fall From Grace has reopened his wounds. His once-white t-shirt is drenched. Some of the blood is Silent’s. Most of it is his own.




It’s the price he has to pay.


And pay he will.












The chants are overwhelming. The announcers are nearly drowned out. Edwin MacPhisto has cemented his legacy tonight in the most astonishing way possible. The cheers are there because he is standing. The chants continue because he has bled for them. He has nothing left to prove. He just has to finish this match, and all of it will be over at least.


But for his opponent, that’s not enough.


Silent steps into an elbow strike with all the force he can muster, and MacPhisto stumbles back into the turnbuckle – exactly where Kibagami wants him. Brusquely shoving Edwin out of the way, the Silent One climbs onto the top turnbuckle to set himself up for Flesh Into Gear, yanking the Crown Prince back into position –




A surprise shotei from the Mac Daddy nearly knocks the taste out of the Slaughterer’s mouth! The cage keeps him from falling out of the ring altogether, but he’s clearly dazed…


“Now’s your chance, Edwin! TAKE HIM OUT!”


Cyclone Comet looks curiously at Bobby Riley, who is no longer in his seat. “My friend, justice may have a place for you yet.”


Edwin sees Kibagami reeling. He hears the fans ringing in his ears. He knows what he has to do. He climbs onto the second rope, cinches Silent up…but he can’t lift him! Nathan has a death grip on the ropes, preventing MacPhisto from making any progress. Undeterred, the Crown Prince hops onto the second rope and lashes out with a ladder-laced boot –


But Silent catches the kick over his shoulder.


The look that passes between the two men at that moment is significant – MacPhisto knows what’s just happened. He knows how close he is to losing, and worse. He’s got one shot and one shot only at saving his neck, literally.


With a quick prayer on his lips and the fans in mind, James Canterbury leaps into the air above the ring, looking to score a telling blow with the enziguri that has saved him so many times before.












But Silent knows it’s coming.


And he catches that leg, too.



“Oh God, no. Not like this.” Comet winces as Silent pulls Edwin’s legs up over his shoulders, leaving the Crown Prince hanging above the ring. Bobby Riley sits back down, a pale expression on his face – he’s seen this before.






In the back, Mark Stevens stands by a monitor, and as Kibagami places his arms underneath Edwin’s, it’s all he can do to simply turn away.


Brian Applewhite sits at his desk, watching the pay-per-view. He sees Edwin MacPhisto suspended in position for the Demonstar Driver. He remembers a night just a few years ago, playing poker with a couple of good friends.


He turns off the television, and he closes his eyes.





Out in the ring, in front of thousands of people, James Canterbury – Edwin MacPhisto – one of the greatest to ever grace this federation – can do nothing, except to close his eyes, as well.


And he falls.































Silent stands up, and looks down at a man he used to call his friend. He steps over Edwin’s body, and he begins to climb the cage.














Nobody cheers. Nobody moves.









There’s nothing to say.













The medics are already on their way to the ring, and Funyon has already unlocked the door. Funyon raises the microphone to his lips….and he turns away from the ring. He won’t be the one to say it. He refuses. He sits at the timekeeper’s table, his head in his hands.


MacPhisto is carefully, gently, tentatively laid on the stretcher and carried out of the ring. There’s no fanfare, no ceremony – nothing befitting of a man who has done so much for so many. The fans watch in silence as he is carried up the ramp and out of the arena. There’s no way to know exactly what condition he’s in, but everybody knows that it will be a very long time before they see Edwin MacPhisto again.


Cyclone Comet clears his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen…I know that the show must go on. It always does, and it always has. But I would like to take a moment to say…I’d like to say that this sort of thing should never have to happen.” Comet pauses, trying his best to maintain a level of professionalism, but the strain in his voice is all too clear. “This match…this was not the way it should’ve ended. Not for Edwin MacPhisto. Not for anyone. Not with someone like…I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen.” Comet wipes some very genuine tears from his eyes. “I simply don’t know what else to say.”


Bobby Riley does not even attempt to provide closure. He simply stares at the SmarksTron, where Nathaniel Kibagami has finished his climb.



He stands at the height of the cage – hair bloodied, tights smeared with red, the words “No Salvation” shining on his back in the arena’s spotlights. Nathaniel Kibagami has collected his debt of blood, and more. He stands victorious after seven years.


And atop the cage, he raises his arms in a pose that’s all too familiar.


It can be argued that four different men entered the Lockdown match at Genesis IV. James Canterbury and Edwin MacPhisto. Silent and Nathaniel Kibagami. Only one of these men won the match, and only one of them left the ring under his own power.





Standing on the cage, arms outspread, his enemy’s blood still glistening on his chest…


Silent has won his battle, at last.




































And to think…



…that the war hasn’t even begun.

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Guest Suicide King

The camera cuts up to a picture of Ben Hardy, hanging out high above the ring in one of the largest skyboxes at Madison Square Garden. Hardy is in front of a milling crowd of people, most of whom are recognizable former SWF superstars. “Welcome up here to the skybox filled with former SWF legends!” greets Hardy to the camera. “Despite the fact that these men don’t play a role on camera in the SWF anymore, we know that our fans are interested to know what happened to them. Unfortunately, most of the good legends weren’t stupid enough to affiliate themselves with our program. Rane is filming a role in the upcoming Pauly Shore movie, Divefire currently works in a movie theatre in London and did not wish to join us, Chris Wilson was…um….not able to make it, and Pimp Daddy Sarp is currently serving a 20 year jail sentence in a federal correctional facility. However, anyone who was desperate enough to watch our show, collect their $100, and get some free food came to show up! So let’s take you on a trip through memory lane here in the SWF Skybox Hall O’ Fame!”


Riley turns to Comet and smiles. “There is NO WAY that this ends well, Comet.”


Comet turns back to Riley, with a surprising grin on his face. “Cititzen Riley, right now, I am very glad I took this announcing job instead of their appearance fee.”


Ben Hardy starts to walk through the group, and the first person he happens upon is none other than Chris Raynor! The former Carnie tag star, not to mention former US and ICTV champion, is sitting on top of what appears to be an orange crate (god knows how that ended up in a luxury skybox) talking rapidly into his cell phone. His cheap, wrinkled suit is obviously two inches too short, as a good deal of his forearm is visible, and his bony ankles jut out underneath the hem of his pants. “This is big business, Jim! You can’t let me down here! This deal could mean millions for the JL! I worked too hard to let this fall through!” Raynor looks up and sees Ben Hardy standing there with a mic, and gets to his feet, lowering the phone. “Look, Ben, I’d love to talk, but this is a MASSIVE business for the JL! A huge business deal of epic proportions! Now, if you’ll excuse me!”


Raynor starts to walk away, but Hardy places a hand on Raynor’s shoulder, which turns the JL commish around. “Um, Chris, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you talking into your wallet?” Raynor looks sheepish and turns red as he tries to thrust the “phone” back into his jacket pocket, but the cheap stitching tears, and the wallet bounces to the floor and flops open. The camera zooms in and reveals nothing but an expired driver’s license, a solitary one-dollar bill, and a raggedy old business card from a pizza place in Chicago. Raynor quickly snaps up the wallet and storms away, mumbling about “his big break” as Ben Hardy sighs, then starts to walk around the skybox, until he comes up upon Outcast, sitting in the corner, with Annie Eclectic! Outcast doesn’t notice the camera, and neither does Annie, as the conversation continues unabated. Gus leans in with his boom mic, picking up some of the conversation.


“…like I’m saying, you and I would make a GREAT couple, Annie!”


“Tyler, I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I keep telling you, I AM A LESBIAN! I like other women! Not guys!”


“Hey, I saw you and Chris Wilson!”


“I guess I just…well, every now and then I just flip out. But I’m still a lesbian, dammit!”


“But you don’t even know what I’m proposing. We’d fall madly in love, and we’d be inseperable! I’d feud with an ambiguously gay guy over you…”


“HEY!” screams Bobby Riley from the commentary table, obviously insulted.


“You know he’s right, Robert…” retorts Comet as the sound feed from Annie and Outcast resumes.


“…and then you and I would be torn apart by the cruel hand of death itself, and I would brood, and I’d write a 12,000 word piece about it to the lyrics of some Staind song!”


“Um, Outcast, why do you want to date someone just to have them die on you?”


“Hey, I need good reasons to mope. I almost smiled TWICE this month. I’m losing my edge!”


Ben Hardy slowly backs away from the couple and backs straight into Longdogger Pete, who is holding an animated conversation with Mercury. “Get out of here, Hardy” mutters Merc before turning back to his conversation with Pete. “So, continue. You said that they DIDN’T like it?”


“No, they didn’t! I thought it was brilliant! I mean, a World Title match in an empty swimming pool! Nothing but concrete! It was a brilliant idea! But people said it was stupid! I just don’t understand people sometimes! I mean, Wrathapalooza! It’s the best idea ever!”


Mercury nods in silent approval before voicing his opinion. “Dude, I feel your pain! I mean, those are GOOD ideas! Next time, you might want to try booking yourself as the champion. It’s important to establish who’s in charge, you know?”


Pete nods, with a look of confusion on his face. “Well, I tried booking myself against Ejiro Fasaki’s personal ring announcer….can you believe that THAT didn’t go over well either? I swear, some people just don’t know entertainment when they see it!”


Hardy runs away from the two men, before he becomes permanently Russo-ized, and goes running straight across the room, where he comes across former SWF World Champion, ICTV Champion, record-setting US Champion, and half of the tag-champion Benami Cross Wizards, Thoth! He is (of course) playing a game of Dance Dance Revolution SuperMax3rdEdition4thVolume82ndMix (featuring TWO NEW SONGS OMGOMGWWJD?) as he jumps up and down frantically on his dance pad, trying to follow along to the extremely annoying and unpleasant beat. The music is blaring across the room, which forces a true SWF legend, Mr. Galatea himself, to look over from his chair, looking very annoyed. “Hey, Thoth, does that game have any GOOD music in it?”


“Dude, this has COWGIRL! That’s GREAT MUSIC!”


“How about some Primus?”


“Nope. No Primus.”




“None of that either”


“Guy Lombardo Bridge?”




“Never mind” mutters G, before turning back to his beer.


“Hey, Galatea, you wanna play?” asks Thoth, inviting him over. “It’s a great time!”


“No chance in hell” replies G in a deadpan voice. However, Janus, the Hell Machine himself, walks on over and stands next to Thoth on the pad. “I shall accept your challenge, good sir!” decrees Janus as “Cowgirl” starts playing over the TV. “You’re going DOWN, Janus!” screams Thoth as the two of them start leaping up and down, with Janus’ 350+ pounds shaking the rest of the luxury box. Hardy shudders as he watches Janus leaping around to the incredibly crappy song, and looks around, trying to find Stryke, the nice, low-key member of the group. He searches, and finds nothing but a big, velvety chair with a sign posted on it, saying “RESERVED FOR STRYKE”.


“Comet, it looks like Stryke managed to find a way to no-show his promo at Genesis! A new record!”


“Robert, wherever he is, I’m sure he’s very apathetic about it.”


Finally, the camera pans around to reveal the man who created the SWF, Jayson Grant. He looks into the camera, and takes Ben Hardy’s microphone from his hand. “Fans, I’d like to welcome you to SWF Genesis IV! When I started this fed, and when we had the ORIGINAL Genesis, I never thought that the fed would evolve into what it has become today! And now, three years later, I stand here with one question, and one question alone: Mr. Galatea, you wanna go out back and get high?”


G breaks into a grin and hops out of his seat, smiling at Jayson. “I thought you’d never ask! I got the Pink Floyd right here!” As he pulls out the CD, the door goes flying open, and Chris Wilson comes barging through the door, with Dan Marino and Shawn Michaels in tow behind him. “What’s the deal? Hardy, you said that I “couldn’t be here!” That’s because you bastards didn’t invite me! What’s the deal with that?” Galatea cracks up laughing, but Wilson continues. “Well, guess what? Chris Wilson is gonna do what Chris Wilson does best, and he’s gonna do it RIGHT NOW!

























(Except Thoth)




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Guest Suicide King

The last image fades and the screen starts to crackle and pop as if old film was being played. Then music starts… “Fight” by Saliva blasts out of speakers worldwide accompanied by images…



I know your every move

I've heard your every word

I know you well


The Suicide King lounges behind his desk, unconcerned with the momentous events about to transpire…


and I've,

got nothing left to prove

your threats I find absurd

I am your hell


The H-Ville Thugg sits in his wheelchair, a blanket across his nearly useless legs. His face is rage, though, rage and pain…


Every time,

You think that I'm done

I come back stronger (stronger)


“Grand Slam” Mark Stevens strides out from behind the curtain, purpose on his face as he focuses his rage on the man he despises above all others…


Every time,

You think that you've got me

I will fight you


and I will put you in the ground


From years ago… King nails a Joker’s Wild on Grand Slam… Thugg kills King with a huge Untamed Chokeslam… Grand Slam powers King into the mat with the Walk-Off…


I will fight,

till there's nothing left

till my legs are gone


you won't forget me


Bastion stands over a collapsed Grand Slam with the metal mop handle as Lynn Stevens screams on a discarded cell phone…


'cause I will fight,

till my final breath

just to see you fall


I'll make you fear me


Grand Slam stands in the ring with Dace Night, shaking his hand. In the background ghostly images of Dace destroying all comers echoes…


Every time,

You think I'm done

I'll come back stronger (stronger)


Thugg stands up, trying to Chokeslam King but can’t… Grand Slam tries to grab King but the slippery commish spins out of his coat…


and every time,

You think that you've got me

I will fight you


and I will put you in the ground


A camera moves up and over King’s head, revealing Craven, a sadistic and evil look on his face…


During the guitar solo, rapid fire images, in time with the music, flash across the screen…


Craven flattening someone with the Kingdom Come…

Dace obliterating his opponents with a perfect Black Nova…

Bastion manhandling Johnny Dangerous in his only match…

Grand Slam, King and Thugg, ghostlike, behind their representatives in this important match…


'cause I will fight,

till there's nothing left

till my legs are gone


you won't forget me


Craven stands victorious in the ring, the U.S. Title belt over his shoulder…


Every time,

You think I'm done

I'll come back stronger (stronger)


Bastion stands with his hand raised, glowering at the crowd…


and every time,

You think that you've got me

I will fight you


Dace stands with Va’aiga, a Tag Team Title belt over his shoulder accepting the cheers of the fans…


Every time,

You think that I'm done

I'll come back stronger (stronger)


and every time,

You think that you've got me

I will fight you


The music ends with a composite picture of all six men, arranged to show them nose-to-nose… anger and betrayal and hatred etched on their faces… showing the years of build-up to this match…


…and the SWF will never be the same again…

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Guest Suicide King

The Storm Pt 4: The Storm Breaks




The demonic black and white image of Dace Night’s face, covered in corpse paint, is reflected in the mirror. Running one has black line over his scars, he slams shut the trays of make up on the desk top.


“I hope Gus doesn’t mind be borrowing this for a bit, but this needs to be seen. Some how though, I doubt Gus would want to be present to see this himself.”


Standing up, Dace reveals the full extent of his get up, Hug metal capped boots, leather pants with stubs and chains hanging off them, his forearms wrapped in leather, with nails and spikes sticking out. A t shirt with the words Norsyk Arsyk Black Metal print over an Inverted Crucifix, surrounded by Black Angels and Demons.


“The war is raging already, battles have been fought. Lost and won. But now the storm breaks, it will batter us all and decide the future of the SWF. Now I’m almost ready to face the storm and fight for the future.”


Standing in the middle of the floor, he claps his hands, turning off the lights and plunging the room into darkness.


“Am I am afraid, but I will have my power to fight. The body is ready, but this storm will be in the mind also. My mind must be ready to fight as well. Spill the blood, let the power flow….”


A single spec of light from a candle dances across the room, moving closer and closer. As Dace’s outline can just been seen the candle dips and lights another. Moving around, more and more are lit, until the figure of Kayin can be seen, in similar attire to Dace’s, as she lights the final candle.


The floor is covered in a huge pentagram, glowing red in the light of the candles placed at it’s points. Symbols running around the edges and into the centre. Glinting in the candle light, Kayin holds aloft a wicked curved blade. Raising one arm into the air, she slices the blade into the palm of her hand, just deep enough for blood to trickle freely down her arm and spatter onto the floor.


Embracing his lover, Dace kisses and licks at the blood flowing form her arm and hand, swallowing it down as if in a hunger. In the distance the sounds of roars of the fans and the calls for the commissionership match can be heard. Licking away the last of the blood, Dace throws back his head, wiping away the blood from his black covered lips.


Striding to the barely visible door, he slams his foot into it, blasting it open, as light streams into the dressing room.


“The storm breaks, there is nothing else now. Death or glory, there is no way back. Death rips the sky, attack. Attack! ATTACK!”



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Guest Suicide King



Dace Night

Age: 24

Height: 6'4"

Weight: 252

Bench: 500lbs

Move List: 29 practiced moves, 4 variables.

Finisher(s): Black Nova, Defenestration, Dark Star Driver.

Accomplishments: SJL World Champion, SWF Hardcore Champion, SWF Tag Team Champion.

Last Five: 1-4


Michael Craven

Age: 28

Height: 6'6

Weight: 280

Bench: 380lbs

Move List: 30+ practiced moves, 5 variables.

Finisher(s): Kingdom Come, Gulf Coast Crunch, Nightmare Helix

Accomplishments: IGNML Television Champion, IGNJL Tag/Stables Champion, SJL World Champion, SWF Hardcore Champion, SWF United States Champion.

Last Five: 3-2



Age: 18

Height: 7'0"

Weight: 375lbs

Bench: 525lbs

Move List: 18 practiced moves, 2 variables.

Finisher(s): The Third Strike

Accomplishments: N/A

Last Five: N/A


POWER ADVANTAGE: Dace Night/Bastion - Push





HOT/COLD: Dace Night(cold)


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Guest Suicide King

The montage is over…



The fans are amped…



Riley and Comet are juiced…



The stage is set…



It’s time to place your bets, and settle all scores…



It’s on now!





(Funyon) – Ladies and gentlemen…the following No Disqualification Triple Threat Match is scheduled for one fall!! On the line is Smartmarks Federation Commissionership!


“Nailed to the cross while the weak


”Overcome with grief weep and mourn


”To pervert the mind of the following sheep sould


”You scourge was born


”As a shepherd of the inferior rats


”You knew what to do


”But spears and steel of your opponents


”Could hurt your body too”


The area is filled with black smoke as thousands of machine gun like white pyro charges go off from the stage down the ramp in time to the ultra fast drumming. A resounding roar from the crowd shakes the earth just as the High Priest of Horrorcore himself emerges through the smoke.


(Comet) – We are just moments away from the huge main event between Tom Flesher and William Hearford. But, good citizens, now is definitely not the time for that bathroom break or that kitchen run! Because now we prepare for a match of equal, if not more, importance…a match that will change the SWF forever. Words can’t even begin to describe the implications of this match folks. Three of the SWF’s greatest superstars…three hall of famers…all struggling for power here in the federation! And it’s all come down to one match…right now…for all the power in the federation!


(Funyon) – Introducing first…representing SWF Hall of Famer and two-time former world champion “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens…weighing in at 252 pounds…from Birmingham, England…He is the High Priest of Horrorcore…DDAAAAAAAACCEE NIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHT!!!!


As Dace stands tall in the entranceway, Mark Stevens limps out through the fog, using a cane for support, and walks up behind his trusted proxy for the evening. The fans give the Heavy Hitter a standing ovation as he walks up and pats Dace on the shoulder.


(Comet) – And just listen to these fans…they love the Heavy Hitter here in New York City!! By god…I haven’t heard an ovation like this since…since…well, since I was here!


Mark says something in Dace Night’s ear, and the hardcore goth nods. The two begin to head towards the ring, just after Mark bends down to check that his knee brace is on tight enough. Bigger red pyro follow them down the aisle and a wall of flames burst from the ring posts.


(Comet) – Do you understand how huge this is Bobby?


(Riley) – Of course I do! I mean…the future of the federation rests on the shoulders of three men tonight. But what I know more than that is how the Hville Thugg and Mark Stevens have intruded on the serenity of our peaceful federation and attempted to overthrow King has worked to build. I’ll even go as far as to call it a coup de tat, wouldn’t you Comet?


(Comet) – No freaking way! King is a power hungry villain who was running this place into the ground. How can I, the greatest superhero alive, endorse such a man?


(Riley) – But I thought you were supposed to fight for good and justice? Well, two men came in, uninvited, and are attempting to STEAL something that doesn’t belong to them. Doesn’t that fall under some category in the superhero handbook?


(Comet) – Uhhhh…well…but if…I mean…I have to…I’m going to…


As Comet stammers and stutters, Dace climbs into the ring and tosses his horns into the crowd, while Mark Stevens walks around the ring towards the announce table. Dace makes his way to the far ropes and leans over while Mark Stevens whispers to him.


(Comet) – Well, it matters not what I do, because in just a few moments, we’re going to see the most intense fight of all time for power here in the SWF.






(Riley) – Speaking of intense…


(Comet) – You said it…although, intense isn’t really a good word to describe this man.


(Riley) – Insanity?


(Comet) – That’s much better! Freaking crazy…that’s all he is.


(Riley) – He’s huge too…don’t forget freaking huge!



“They don’t know…”

“Who we be.”


“They don’t know…”

“Who we be.”


(Riley) – It’s like waiting for death.



…and as the first verse of “Who We Be” by DMX hits the speakers, the big black beast steps through the entranceway and exposes his enormous frame to the crowd, who can only manage to stand in awe.


(Funyon) – And his opponent…representing SWF Hall of Famer and former two-time SWF World Champion Hville Thugg…weighing in at 375 pounds…hailing from the nation’s capitol, Washington, DC…He is…BAAAAAAAASSSSSSTION!!!!!


Just as Funyon calls the beast by name, the fans explode into cheers as the most recently known as “Wheels”, but more commonly known as the Angry Black Man, Hville Thugg rolls through the entrance behind Bastion.


(Comet) – And boy…the freaking love the Hville Thugg here too! It’s crazy!! Mark and Thugg…bitter enemies from day one of their time here in the SWF, now fighting for one cause…one goal…who’d have thought it?!?


(Riley) – Perhaps…but for how long? We’ve already seen the intense hatred for one another these two have blow up once before…do you honestly think they can hold it together during a heated battle like the one we’re about to see?


A ring attendant pushes Thugg down the ramp, with Bastion following in tow, slowly taking it all in. The fans cheer Thugg like it were the last time they’d ever see him, and Thugg, uncharacteristically gives pounds to some of the fans as he rolls by them. Inside the ring, Dace stands with his eyes fixed on the monster walking towards the ring, his face etched with determination. He’s not scared…he’s never been scared, and if he is, he’s sure as hell doing a good job of hiding it. Behind him, Mark Stevens stands with one hand on his cane and the other on his hip while he watches one of his hated enemies and the monster that re-injured his knee.


(Comet) – That’s something you might be right about Bobby, especially if Thugg can’t control Bastion enough to keep him from attacking Dace, or even worse, Mark himself.


Bastion and Thugg stop at the apron, where Thugg begins talking to Bastion, though it is inaudible to the crowd.


(Comet) – And it looks like Thugg is giving his younger brother some instructions here…and by the way he’s pointing at Dace, he’s probably telling him to work with Night in order to secure a win for either faction.


(Riley) – You think Bastion will listen?


(Comet) – Probably…He seems to listen to Thugg.


Having thoroughly instructed Bastion, Thugg dismisses the ring attendant and begins to wheel himself around the ring towards Mark, while Bastion slides under the bottom rope and into the ring. The music begins to fade as Bastion, wishing he could tear Dace limb from limb right now, remains stationary near the far right corner, and merely stares at Dace with disdain. Dace looks the monster up and down, and merely smirks at him. Bastion looks down at Thugg, who uses nonverbal communication to tell his brother to stay cool…



…until the lights find their way to darkness once again. The fans begin to boo immediately as strobe lights around the arena being to flash to the beat of “King of My World” by Saliva. A pale blue light cuts through the sea of boos and illuminates Michael Craven as he steps through the entranceway. The King of Nightmares merely glances over the crowd with a cocky smirk, meanwhile, in the ring, Dace watches the monster, who is staring at Craven, but then turns his attention to the walkway towards the ring.


(Comet) – And here comes our third faction…and boy what a faction it is. Michael Craven, a man whose over-the-top style has revolutionanized such titles as the hardcore and the US, has looked amazing as of late, and he’s definitely the perfect proxy for King in this situation as he was mere seconds away from being in our next matchup.


(Riley) – I think Michael’s performance in the tournament surprised a lot of people, but it didn’t surprise me one bit. See, I remember when he upset Chris Raynor as a Jler a couple years ago.


If you thought Craven got booed, then the noise that is emmitted from the crowd next should blow you away because the fans erupt into a blood-thirsty, enraged hatred for one man…





(Funyon) – And finally…their opponent…representing SWF Hall of Famer…former SWF World Champion, and the current commissioner of the SWF, Suicide King…he hails from Tampa Bay, Florida…weighing at 280 pounds…He IS the runner up in the SWF World Title Tournament…THE KING OF NIGHTMARES…MIIIIIIIICHAAAAEEEEELLLL CRAAAAAAAAAVVEEEEEN!!!!!


The vocal heat from the crowd shakes Madison Square Garden as King saunters out behind Craven with his traditional confident smirk gracing his face. Inside the ring, both Bastion and Dace lean over the far ropes and begin taking instructions from their respective proxy, leaving them blind to see Michael Craven charge down the aisle towards the ring.


(Comet) – And here comes Michael Craven…boy, is he fired up tonight!


(Riley) – Wouldn’t you be? This is a huge match with huge implications…you gotta be fired up!


(Comet) – Truer words have never been spoken citizen Riley.


However, fired up would be an understatement for Craven tonight, as he dives into the ring and immediately charges at the giant standing near the far right corner. Outside the ring, Thugg sees Craven charging and shouts a warning into Bastion’s ear. Bastion turns around, but it’s too late, as Craven is already launching himself at the monstrosity. Craven’s arm collides with Bastion’s throat, and the collision sends the beast over the top rope! Thugg, realizing that his large brother is on a collision course with him, grabs the wheels of his chair and rolls to the left, allowing Bastion to collide hard on the thinly padded floor below!


(Comet) – WHOA!! Craven is ready to go…getting the early jump on Bastion!!


(Riley) – Now, THAT’S how you gotta come out! Come in swinging!!


The fans boo their heads off while King strolls towards the ring, truly enjoying Craven’s strategy to get Bastion out of the ring here in the early going. As Bastion collides with the floor, Dace breaks off his communication with Mark Stevens and faces Craven, who is already charging towards him. Dace is not quick enough to react, and Craven drives a hard forearm to his chin, sending the Priest back into the far left corner.


(Comet) – There’s a reason Craven made it to the finals of the world title tournament, and this is why! He’s freaking intense! And, from what I’ve heard over the past week, he is the foregone favorite to win this match for King.


(Riley) – And, in my opinion, that would only be right because this is King’s commissionership to begin with.






A hard punch to Dace’s chin keeps him in the corner. While Craven does damage to Dace’s chin and head in the corner, Bastion gets up on the outside. Across the aisle, Mark watches the monster rise and the two lock eyes as Thugg looks on. Thugg starts to check to make sure Bastion is ok, but his brother ignores him and simply stares daggers into Mark Stevens. With no words, a good shot of Bastion’s face shows him glance down at his own knee and smirk. This subtle reference enrages Mark, who starts to storm over, still limping and using his cane for leverage. His words are inaudible, but one could guess that they are far from pleasant, and while Bastion speaks not, he welcomes the idea of Mark Stevens coming over for a fight. As Bastion waves Mark in for another ass-whooping, Thugg jumps between the two and starts to shout at Bastion.


(Comet) – And would you look at this…right here in front of us, Bastion and Mark Stevens look ready to fight!


(Riley) – See…I told you that little alliance wouldn’t last very long.


(Comet) – I don’t know Bobby, it seems as though Thugg is being the voice of reason here, and it looks like he’s ordering Bastion to get back into the ring.


No physicality ensues, but Bastion and Mark spend quite some time staring each other down in closer proximity than before, with Thugg standing between the two. Inside the ring, Craven grabs Dace by the arm and whips Tampa native across the ring to the…NO…reversed by Dace. Craven crashes back first into the near left corner, and Dace waists no time charging the Nightmare. Craven, ready for Dace’s charge, Craven quickly and quietly draws his arm back like a shortstop, and connects with Dace’s head as he charges in with a vicious forearm smash!!


(Comet) – OH!! Craven with that High Power Forearm Smash…right to Dace’s head!! The High Priest of Horrorcore goes down like a sack of potatoes…


(Riley) – That forearm of Craven’s is already vicious to begin with, but if you combine it with the face that Dace was running full steam at Craven…he very well could be out cold!


Dace goes down without inhibition, right at Craven’s feet, and the fans boo as it appears to the naked eye that Dace Night is unconscious. Craven, looking to end this match very quickly, jumps on top of Dace Night, and referee Eddy Long immediately slides in to make the count.


(Comet) – Craven with the cover…this could be it here early!













Long’s count is broken by the scream of Michael Craven, who is lifted off of Dace by the strong hand of Bastion, who has reentered the contest. Outside the ring, Mark gives Thugg a frown, and Thugg responds with a “settle down” hand gesture. Inside, Bastion lifts Craven up by his chin, saving the match, and Michael flails his arms a bit because being lifted by your chin can’t feel very good.


(Comet) – Whew…we almost saw the quickest match in history right there…but Bastion is back in the contest, and Craven might be in big trouble. The giant has a hold of him, and we’ve seen what he can do once he’s gotta hold of you.


(Riley) – Yeah…it might do Michael good just to run if he can.


Once he has Craven to his feet, Bastion throws a hard right hand, but it is as slow as it is powerful, which allows Craven to duck and rise with a nice punch to Bastion’s chin. The punch, however, does not faze the giant, who comes back with a left hand, but Craven ducks that as well and gives Bastion another solid right to the chin.


(Comet) – But, Craven’s got the speed factor against Bastion here, and it seems like he’s done his homework for this match…knowing that Bastion likes to punch in his brawling style, and while he’s not the fastest guy, Craven knows he can use speed to his advantage.


The second punch kind of slows Bastion a bit, giving Craven an opening to deliver several more punches to the monster’s face. But, after a few punches, Bastion just uses his leverage and location to take advantage by simply running forward and smashing Craven in to the near left corner!


(Comet) – But Bastion’s strength is just too much, and now Bastion’s looking for the advantage.


With Craven in the corner, Bastion begins one his favorite combinations, where he simply starts to wail on Craven with closed fist punches.


Right hand to the head…


Left hand to the chin…


Right hand to the gut…


Left hand to the kidney…


…and all Craven can do is cover up as Bastion delivers punch after punch to Craven’s entire upper body. Eddy long tries to intervene, warning Bastion about the closed fist, but Bastion simple shoves the seasoned referee away, sending him stumbling back towards the center of the ring.


(Comet) – And now Bastion definitely has the advantage, nailing Craven from all angles with those wild punches.


(Riley) – My question is, why is Eddy Long warning Bastion about his punches, this is a no-dq match…it’s not like he can do anything.


(Comet) – You’re right Bobby, but he still wants to maintain the integrity of the match, and not let it turn into a boxing brawl.


Once he has rid himself of Eddy Long, Bastion grabs Craven and slings him across the ring. Craven slams hard into the far right corner, but has no time to recover before he feels the 375 pound body of Bastion collide with his, as Bastion runs across the ring and delivers a hard splash into Craven.


(Comet) – Oh! That’s gotta hurt…a huge man like Bastion colliding with you and full speed. Craven’s hurting from that, no doubt about it.


Craven leans on the corner, ailing from the splash, while Bastion turns around to find Dace gathering himself and starting to get to his feet. Bastion starts to head over in that direction…


“Yo B!”


…but he hears his brother’s voice behind him. Bastion turns to his brother, who gestures for Bastion to go after Craven.


(Comet) – Looks like Thugg is telling Bastion not to attack Dace Night, but to continue to punish Michael Craven. So, it looks like the alliance is still intact, at least between Thugg and Mark.


(Riley) – It does seem that way, but how long will it last? How long can Thugg control Bastion’s actions in the ring? And we also know Thugg has a long history of turning on his allies. Need I mention the IGNWO, Xstasy, Magnifico, Wilson…I mean, the list goes on.


(Comet) – We’ll just have to wait and see then…


Bastion turns back to Craven, grabbing him from the corner and bringing him back towards the center of the ring. Once he has Craven in place, he thrusts the former hardcore and US champion into a front face lock. He uses his strength to lift Craven up for a suplex, but instead of falling backwards, he holds Craven upside down in the air.


(Comet) – What strength displayed by Bastion here…holding Craven up like this.


(Riley) – He’s going to let all the blood rush to his head…and now only will that disorient you, but it will make the upcoming slam that much more effective.


After several seconds and a number of Ooos and Ahhs from the crowd, Bastion falls backwards and Craven lands hard back first to the mat!


(Comet) – A very nice stalling suplex from Bastion, and it looks like he has learned a great deal between his short time at Bases Loaded and from his brother.


Bastion floats over and makes a very confident cover on Michael Craven as Long slides in to make the count.


(Comet) – Cover by Bastion!!








(Comet) – NO! Craven gets his right shoulder up!


(Riley) – Michael Craven has been grounded after starting off with that fury. The Beast from the East, as I like to call him, has been all over him, after Craven took Dace Night out of this contest temporarily.


Bastion, not fazed by Craven’s kick out, stands up, lifting the Nightmare with him as he stands, but instead of performing another powerful maneuver on Craven, looks over at Dace, who is now to his feet trying to shake the cobwebs loose. Bastion lets a wavering Craven go, and starts towards Dace…


“B, NO!!”


…but his brother calls to him again, and Bastion looks at Thugg, who ushers the monster to continue with Craven. Bastion, despite an annoyed look, starts back towards Craven, who seems to be dead on his feet, but when he arrives, he is met with a hard right hand to the jaw!


(Comet) – Bastion was going after Dace again, but Thugg still isn’t having any of that.


(Riley) – Yeah, but he distracted Bastion enough to let Michael Craven land that hard right hand.


The shot stings the monster, knocking off balance slightly, and Craven looks to get back on the offensive. He lands another hard right that sends Bastion stumbling backwards, and another that nearly knocks him down. A fourth shot to the head makes Bastion teeter as he nears the near side ropes, and looking to send the beast out once again, Michael Craven charges Bastion…




…but as he arrives, he is floored by a huge kick to the side of the head from Dace Night!!!


(Comet) – OH!! What a kick to the head from Dace Night!! Coming from the side and surprising Craven with that Yakuza Kick, and Craven is down once again!


(Riley) – I would call it a cheap shot, but it’s just good smarts from Dace Night. Personally, I would have waited for him to knock Bastion out of the ring before attacking.


(Comet) – Yeah, but Dace knows that Thugg will keep his brother from attacking him, based on what we’ve seen so far.


Craven falls to the canvas from the huge kick, and Dace immediately goes after him. He goes to lift Craven up, but just as he gets Craven to his feet, he feels a huge paw on his shoulder pulling him away.


(Comet) – But wait…Bastion is pulling Dace Night away from Craven.


Bastion yanks Dace away, and grabs Craven himself. Dace looks to Mark and Thugg, and then pushes Bastion on the shoulder, causing him to release Craven.


(Riley) – Uh oh…it seems to be breaking down here…


Dace starts to yell at Bastion, and judging by hand gestures, he is not happy with Bastion’s actions thus far…




…but the voices of both Mark and Thugg cause the two to break their non-physical altercation and look back at them. The two hall of famers gesture to their proxies to tell them to take out Craven first, and the two give each other a hard look before obliging their bosses for the evening. However, when they turn back to Craven, they both receive pokes to their eyes for their trouble, causing them both to turn around and hold their faces.


(Comet) – And that little incident has not caused Bastion and Dace to lose the advantage, and now, here comes the very tough Michael Craven.


Leaving Bastion to tend to his face, Craven immediately looks to Dace Night, and when Dace turns to face him, Craven drops him with a solid lariat.


(Riley) – And see, that’s the thing. They might not even go to blows tonight, but you see that even the slightest non-physical altercation between these two men who should be working together can turn the tide here in this match.


Craven jumps back to his feet, and seeing Bastion turning towards him, grabs Bastion by the top of his head and drops to his BUTT, slamming Bastion’s chin onto the top of his head with a sit-out jawbreaker!


(Comet) – And now Craven is rolling!! He’s working both men now, but it might be a good strategy for him to rid himself of one and focus on the other.


(Riley) – But what do you do? Do you send Dace out of the ring and try to wear down the giant for later, or do you get rid of Bastion and try to score a pin early on Dace Night.


(Comet) – I don’t know, but I think you underestimate things. You know the momentum in a match can change on a dime, so there’s no way to know if Dace is going to come back and kick his ass if he gets rid of Bastion. Also, as long as Bastion and Dace are in the ring at the same time, Craven can play them off of one another, since it’s obvious that they probably won’t play wall together.


A shot of King shows a very relaxed Gambling Man, as he watches Craven turn back to Dace Night. However, when he turns back to meet Dace, he instead meets Dace Night’s elbow…right to the jaw!! The fans begin to cheer as Dace connects with another elbow smash to Craven’s face, sending the over-the-top superstar back towards the center of the ring. Dace grabs Craven and whips him to the left side ropes, and when Craven returns, Dace grabs him up, and throws him hard to the ground with a Farooq style Spinebuster!!


(Comet) – And now Dace Night is starting roll!! What a hard Spinebuster that was from the King of Horrorcore, and now he looks to take control of the matchup.


Intense and ready for severe violence, Dace jumps on Craven’s chest and starts to deliver still elbows to the face and head of the former US champion, much to the fans delight. However, their joy is short-lived as Dace is quickly knocked off of Craven by Bastion, who glares at Dace for a second before grabbing Craven and lifting him back to his feet.


(Comet) – And AGAIN, Bastion prevents Dace Night from going to town on Craven, seemingly wanting to do the job himself!


(Riley) – Dace has been nice about it up until now, but I don’t know how much more of this Dace will accept. We’ve all seen what kind of man he is and what he can do…I’m surprised he’s contained himself thus far.


(Comet) – I assure you that is the doing of Mark Stevens in his preparation for this match.


Before Bastion can makes a move on the ailing Craven, Dace is already back to his feet and immediately jumps in Bastion’s face. Never one to even entertain the idea of listening to what anyone has to say, Bastion rears back his right hand and brings it…




…but pulls it back down when he hears Thugg’s call from ringside.


(Riley) – And of course, Thugg prevents yet another fight between these two, who are supposed to be working for the same cause.


Thugg’s voice forces both Dace and Bastion to look in his direction, and then they turn around…




…they both receive blows to their crotches from Michael Craven!


(Comet) – Holy nutbags Bobby…a double low blow from Michael Craven, and while it’s normally illegal, that move is very legal in this match.


(Riley) – And, not to mention a smart move.


Both Dace and Bastion double over from the blow, and Dace beings to hop around holding his nuts. Craven, with Dace’s back to him, grabs him by the neck, and drops him with a solid neckbreaker! Dace rolls out of the ring to gather himself, leaving Craven to go after Bastion, who is still tending to his genitals. Feeling that Bastion has had too long to recover, Craven looks to keep him at bay, as he starts to deliver punches to the big man’s head and face. As the punches mount up, Bastion starts to stumble back towards the left side ropes.


(Comet) – Craven looking to take the big man down for the first time tonight, and with Dace on the outside, he very well might do it.


Dace walks over towards the far side of the ring, while Craven takes a step back, looking for the final blow to take Bastion down. Craven runs to the right side ropes, and heads back full steam towards a very vulnerable looking Bastion near the left side ropes. However, his forward momentum is significantly altered by 90 degrees as he is tackled to the mat by a charging Dace Night!


(Riley) – WHOA!!


(Comet) – What a tackle by Dace!! It didn’t take him long to recover…he saw an opportunity…and he took advantage!


The spear/tackle sends both men skidding along the canvas, under the near bottom rope, and to the floor outside. The camera switches angles and shows that Dace doesn’t even take time to recover himself, but immediately jumps on Craven and starts to give him elbow after elbow!


(Comet) – Dace Night is fired up now!! I think he might be a bit frustrated with the Bastion situation, but he’s taking it out on Michael Craven!


Dace begins to slam Craven’s head on the floor and giving him more still elbows. He starts to lift Craven to his feet, with Craven closest to the ring, but he is perplexed as Craven continues to rise once he’s released him. He looks up and sees Bastion leaning over the near side ropes and pulling Craven up by his chin. Not wanting to give up his pummeling just yet, Dace grabs Craven by the feet and starts to pull away from Bastion.


(Comet) – And now there’s a full fledged argument for who gets to kick the crap out of Michael Craven!


(Riley) – But Craven’s getting the worse of it…he’s being stretched like back in the old days when they used to tie you to horses and stretch you. It’s gotta be torture!


Dace and Bastion fight over Craven, stretching him to capacity, while Craven screams out in pain. The fans cheer, but Mark and Thugg scream at their respective proxies, but the struggle continues.


(Comet) – And neither of them looks like they will let go here! Craven very well could be stretched to DEATH!


(Riley) – Who ever heard of such a thing? Stretched to death?


(Comet) – Hey…we just might see the first every right here tonight!


After a few more moments of stretching Craven, Bastion and Dace drop him. Craven falls to the ground near the apron while Dace mouths off to Bastion, daring him to exit the ring. Bastion, never one to back down, steps over the top rope and hopes down to the ground, looking to meet Dace with many violent acts. However, just as he hits the floor, Thugg is in front of him, and Mark in front of Dace, to prevent the two from fighting.


(Comet) – Boy! Dace Night and Bastion really want a piece of each other right now! But, Thugg and Mark are preventing that altercation, hoping the two will get rid of Michael Craven before fighting each other. That way…King cannot win!


(Riley) – But the thing is…this is a triple threat match. The need to just let them fight, and have confidence that your man will win out in the end. All of this forced teamwork is just hurting their chances to defeat King here.


Dace tries to push past Mark to get to Bastion, but Bastion stands there, enraged but calm, and listens to Thugg. Across the ring, King stands with his arms folded across his chest, simply watching this unfold. Dace, finally listening to Mark, tears away from the Heavy Hitter just as Thugg releases Bastion back into the wild. Both go towards the down Craven, who lies near the foot of the apron. They both go to grab him…







(Riley) – You see? Mark and Thugg are distracting Bastion and Dace, and they keep letting Craven get back in this thing. You gotta admit, in this no disqualification atmosphere, that was a damn smart move by Michael Craven.


(Comet) – Evil, but smart…yes.


As the white smoke sprays, Mark jumps back carefully while Thugg wheels backwards, and Bastion and Dace take the brunt of the mist. Both men duck away and start to rub there eyes, and while they are temporarily blinded, Craven gets to his feet. He quickly grabs Dace by the back of the head, and rams that same head into the ring post with a ding!


(Comet) – And here comes Michael Craven. He’s got both men on the ropes, and…Look at King. He’s loving this! Look at that smirk on his mug.


(Riley) – Of course he loves it…his guy is winning. But it’s not like’s done anything…Mark and Thugg have interfered more than King has, you gotta admit that.


(Comet) – You’re right, you’re right…but the night is young.


Dace night falls to the side, as if all the life had left his body while Craven turns his attention to Bastion. Bastion has his back to Craven, standing near the far left corner, and Craven approaches without caution while Bastion continues to wipe his eyes. Craven starts to jog a bit towards Bastion, looking for the…






(Comet) – Bastion lured him in!! He’s got him set up…and he’s gonna hit that vicious Untamed Chokeslam on Craven right out here on the floor!


Craven waves is arms while the crowd screams, and Bastion raises Craven with one hand…






…but Craven wriggles loose of Bastion’s grip as the big man began his turn. He lands behind Bastion, so that they are both facing towards the ring steps, and without hesitation…








…he pushes Bastion into the steel step! Bastion’s right knee clips the stairs and he flips over the unforgiving contraption, landing on his back!


(Riley) – Bastion’s knee!!


(Comet) – Craven just sent Bastion into those steel steps, but even worse, Bastion’s knee collides with the steel, and that could hobble the giant!


(Riley) – Seems a bit ironic to me.


Bastion lays on his back holding his knee, and a quick shot over to Mark reveals the Heavy Hitter with a very slight smirk on his face. Craven, tired but confident, turns back to take care of Dace Night…













(Comet) – Dace Night…with that horrific chair shot to Michael Craven!!! Did you hear that? What a shot! Craven has to be out cold!!!


Michael Craven falls like a sack of bricks, and Dace slams the chair down with authority. The fans cheer like crazy, while across the ring, King starts to get a worried look on his face. Mark and Thugg watch as Dace grabs Craven up by the head, revealing a slight cut on his forehead, and starts to drag him in the direction of the far left corner. The fans cheer like hell as Dace Night takes Craven’s head and slams it hard onto the announce table!


(Riley) – Hey! HEY! Take it in the ring!!


(Comet) – Dace Night is really going for it now, and that intense, violent style of Dace Night is starting to come out.


Craven crumples to the ground from the blow, and Dace Night sees an opportunity. He pulls the protective covering off the table…


(Comet) – Oh no! What is Dace doing?? What is he thinking of here?


…followed by the TV monitors!


(Riley) – Hey! We need those!


(Comet) – Oh dear…not again.


Dace reaches down and grabs Craven up, slamming his head on the table once more for good measure. Dace climbs on top of the table as the fans cheer their heads off, and then drags Craven up with him.


(Comet) – He’s gonna put him through this table!!


(Riley) – Might be about time to flee Comet!


(Comet) – I think you’re right!


Mark and Thugg both check King as he tries to sneak over to their side of the ring, but backs off when he sees his adversaries watching him. Dace pulls Craven to his feet, noticing that Comet and Riley have fled their posts at the table, and then yanks Craven into a standing head scissors. He flips Craven up in Powerbomb position…



…but Michael Craven alertly wraps his arm around Dace’s head and neck, causing Dace to release his light hold on Craven’s legs and waist. Craven swings his legs around behind Dace, adjusting his hands in the process to grab Dace’s head from behind. His swing turns Dace so that he faces away from the ring, and when Craven falls, he falls to the floor, pulling Dace Night down with a Neckbreaker! The manner in which Craven swung his legs, forced him off the table, which in turn, scored the neck breaker which pulled Dace off the table as well.


(Comet) – What a counter by Michael Craven!! He counted that Powerbomb into a Neckbreaker!!! What an athletic maneuver!!


(Riley) – And our table is saved!


(Comet) – Indeed it is…but by gawd…what a move by Craven! I thought he was done for and he was going through the table for sure!


Craven rests on the floor while Dace lies there relatively motionless, both at the foot of the announce table. Meanwhile, Bastion is on his feet, testing his leg while Thugg checks on him. After concluding that his leg is fine, he sees both men down, and rage fills his face. Thugg tries to grab him to talk to him, but Bastion snatches his arm from Thugg’s grasp, and then he reaches down and grabs the top half of the steps, with which he previously collided. He sees Craven getting to his knees, using the apron for assistance and starts to head in that direction.


(Comet) – WAIT!! Bastion!! He’s got those steps!! This can’t be good! What on earth does he plan to do with those steel steps!!


(Riley) – This is gonna get a lot worse before it gets any better, I can tell you that.


Bastion walks over as Craven gets to his feet, holding the steps out in front. Looking to take Craven out for good when he steps out into the aisle, Bastion starts to charge. Craven steps into the aisle, and…






(Comet) – OH!!! Bastion just got a face full of steel!! Craven just kicked those steps right back into Bastion’s face!!


(Riley) – Michael Freaking Craven!!! What a kick…right into those steps…right back in Bastion’s face!!


(Comet) – I mean, did you hear that?? Steel on bone!! Bastion has gotta be out cold…no man gets up from that!


Craven puts his hands on his knees to rest a little bit while Bastion lies on his back, with the steel steps over his head. Figuring there is no way Bastion will get up after having that steel come into direct contact with his face, he stands up and turns back to Dace, who is on his knees. He starts to head over in that direction…




…but he whips back and sees Bastion sitting up!!!


(Comet) – He sat up!!! What the hell?!? How did he sit up after that?!? He just got those unforgiving steel steps right in his face, and just sat up!!!


Craven’s eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, seeing the steps cast aside and Bastion sitting up. However bring the seasoned veteran that he is, Craven doesn’t stand there like a deer in the headlights, but instead, runs at the seated Bastion, jumps feet first at him and drives his feet into Bastion’s face with a Sit-Out Dropkick!!!


(Comet) – But back down he goes again!!! Now that’s a veteran move from Craven there! He was surprised by Bastion being unfazed by the steel steps, but didn’t just stand there in awed shock…he went after the big man! That’s a heads up move!


(Riley) – And that’s why I’ve been a huge fan of Michael Craven since his JL days. You know I used to announce down there, right?


Bastion lies on his back, seeming out for the count, while Craven, full of himself right now, turns around…




…right into a hard elbow smash to the nose!


(Comet) – But he forgot about Dace Night…and the High Priest of Horrorcore is back to serve up an ass kicking…Trinity style!


The fans erupt as Dace delivers another stiff elbow that sends Craven reeling. Craven backs towards the right side, while Dace slams his face with numerous elbow smashes, until a final one knocks the King of Nightmares off his feet.


(Riley) – Dace Night is really coming back with a vengeance here…it’s almost like he didn’t get his ass kicked earlier by Craven.


(Comet) – I think part of that was that the whole thing with Bastion and Thugg…but now Bastion is down, and Dace is opening it all up!


Thugg goes to his brother’s aid, while Dace grabs Craven by the head, slams his head on the ring apron, and then rolls him back into the ring. Dace slides in behind him while Craven checks his nose on all fours. Dace gets to his feet and gives Craven a stiff kick to the stomach which causes him to roll over towards the left side ropes. Craven holds his stomach in pain while Dace pursues. Dace raises Craven up again, and wasting no time, he lifts Craven up on his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry, with Michael’s head over his left shoulder. He spins in place while the fans cheer, and then flips Craven off towards the right, pulling his legs in so that Craven lands hard on his back with a Reverse DVD!


(Comet) – Dace night is in a zone now!! And look at King…he’s looking real worried now.


(Riley) – He hasn’t been a factor in his match thus far…


(Comet) – But, we all know his history…he will DEFINITELY get involved at some point.


Dace immediately floats over for the cover…


(Comet) – Night for the win!!!














(Comet) – No, not quite. Craven gets his shoulder up.


Outside the ring, Mark watches intently as his proxy starts to roll while Thugg motions for Bastion to stay down for a little while longer. Dace, undeterred, gets to his feet and lifts Craven up as well. He gives the Nightmare another elbow smash for good measure, and then whips him to the far ropes. Craven returns, but when Dace tries to grab him, Michael dives feet first between Dace’s legs. Craven jumps up behind Dace and immediately locks in a waistlock. Dace, however, swiftly performs a standing switch, getting a waistlock on Craven from behind, and then pulls back, and drops Craven on his back and head with a nicely executed German Suplex!


(Comet) – Craven dives underneath, but Dace with the standing switch and a nice German Suplex.


However, Dace holds on to Craven’s waist, and arches his back to keep Michaels shoulders on the mat.


(Riley) – And the bridge!!
















(Comet) – NO! Craven turns out of it, but that was very close!


Across the ring, King was nearly up on the apron, but when Craven kicked out he jumped back down. Near the announce table, Mark was ready to stop whatever interference King had planned, but when Craven kicked out, he too returns to his position of mere spectator. Meanwhile, Bastion stands to his feet, but he is preoccupied listening to his brother, who looks like he has a plan of some kind.


(Riley) – Hey. Look over there…seems like Thugg is holding Bastion out for a minute.


(Comet) – You think he’s hurt from that shot with the steps?


(Riley) – Please…Bastion could take a semi head on and get up…I think Thugg is saving him…letting him keep some gas and letting Dace and Craven fight it out.


Craven turns and gets to all fours while Dace stands to his feet. Dace walks over to Craven and drops a huge elbow on the back of his head, sending Mike back down to the canvas. He follows that up with another elbow drop on the former US champion. Dace gets Craven to his feet one last time, and Craven looks hurt. Dace, ready for the kill, looks around at the fans screaming, and then spins behind Craven. He grabs underneath Craven’s outstretched arms, and takes a moment to pause for the cause.


(Comet) – OH! Here it comes! The death blow by Dace Night…I don’t know what Thugg is doing, but he’s about to lose the commissionership!


Dace bends his knees and lifts Craven up Crucifix style, but the craft Michael Craven takes his legs and wraps them backwards around the waist of Dace Night. He wriggles his arms free, falls forward, and uses his legs to pull Dace over. Craven slides under Dace as he falls backwards, and when Dace’s legs are in the air, he puts all his weight down on Dace’s legs, keeping the Priest’s shoulders pinned to the mat!!


(Comet) – NO!! Craven with the counter and the rollup!! For the win!


















(Comet) – NO!! Dace kicks out at the absolute last second!! What a counter by Michael Craven, and he was less than a second away from winning the commissionership for King!


King nearly jumps out of his shoes with how close the pinfall was, as both men jump to their feet. Craven is up a hair before Dace, and take the advantage by quickly getting Dace up in a Fireman’s Carry. Without hesitation, Craven brings Dace down hard on his neck and head with…







(Riley) – Could?? It’s definitely over! Dace will not get up from this…not after the punishment he’s taken so far!!


King slaps the mat in anticipation of the win while Craven quickly covers the goth…


(Comet) – That’s it! It’s all over!


























(Comet) – NOOOOO!!!! IT’S BASTION!


Outside the ring, Thugg had released Bastion, and the big man reached inside the ring, and pulled Craven out before the referee could execute the full three count!


(Riley) – I guess Thugg’s plan worked after all! Bastion just saved the match there, and he looks like he’s refreshed and wants to inflict some punishment!


Craven, surprised by Bastion’s actions, lands on his feet but doesn’t remain on them for long because…




…Bastion quickly slaps on a one-handed choke hold!!


(Comet) – Oh no! Not out here on the floor! He’s gonna break Craven’s back!!


The fans go nuts as Bastion raises Craven off his feet with one hand and little effort. He holds Craven in the air while the fans take thousands of pictures, spins in a circle, and brings Craven down…




…with a devastating Spinning Choke Slam!!!




(Comet) - BASTION JUST HIT MICHAEL CRAVEN WITH THAT UNTAMED CHOKESLAM…made famous by his brother!! Craven is out, and King is going nuts!!


On the other side of the ring, King turns away from the ring in disgust as he sees his hopes of keeping his commissionership crushed with one slam! Bastion lets out a primal scream as he stares at the lifeless Michael Craven. Mark gives the big man a golf clap, but Bastion hears him and gives him a hard stare. Mark ceases his appreciative gesture and stares back at the monster. Thugg looks between both men, but doesn’t have time to make a move as Bastion looks into the ring and then smiles.


(Comet) – And now he’s gonna go after Dace Night!!!


(Riley) – And Thugg’s not stopping him!!


(Comet) – Well, Craven’s out of it, so…


Mark gives Thugg a serious look, wondering why he isn’t stopping his brother, but Thugg simply shrugs and smiles while Bastion slides into the ring. Dace Night is still down, but Bastion quickly gets him up to his rubber-like feet. He holds Dace up by the chin, points at Mark, and then absolutely decks Dace Night with a Tyson-like right hand!!


(Comet) – And it looks like the alliance is over now! Bastion is looking to destroy Dace Night here!


(Riley) – But that’s good strategy. Craven won’t be doing much anytime soon, so that leaves Bastion to win this match by getting the pin on Dace.


Dace falls relatively easily from the punch, but Bastion reaches down and grabs Dace by the throat, lifting him back to his feet. He grabs Dace by the arm and whips him to the near right corner, where Night slams hard into the turnbuckle. Bastion, without even taking the time to blink, runs in behind Dace, and just after Dace hits the buckle, Bastion slams him into the corner with a splash!


(Comet) – Who is going to slow down Bastion now? Craven’s out, and Dace is in trouble!


Dace drops to a seated position in the corner, while King out of desperation, jumps up to the apron. Thugg and Mark see him, and both start in that direction.


(Comet) – You called it Bobby! King’s up on the apron!


More important than Thugg or Mark is that Bastion sees the SWF Commissioner, and doesn’t even think twice about taking a swing at the former world champion. King, however, jumps down off the apron just as quickly as he jumped up, causing Bastion to miss with the right hand. He points angrily at King, who simply puts his hands up, and when he notices Mark and Thugg coming over, he backs away from the ring and puts his hands up in submission. Mark and Thugg stop and back towards their original positions.


(Comet) – Looks like King wants to win, but he doesn’t want any part of Bastion.


(Riley) – Would you?


(Comet) – Well, I AM a super hero, so…and I still don’t want any of Bastion!


Bastion turns back to finish off Dace, but…




…but has his nose rocked by a stiff elbow smash!


(Riley) – But that gave Dace enough time to gather himself!


Another elbow smash sends the monster reeling, and near the far left corner, Mark begins to smile again. Another elbow sends Bastion back to the left side ropes, and Dace follows that up by grabbing Bastion by the arm and whipping him to the…NO…Bastion reverses and sends Dace to the right side ropes! Dace rebounds off the ropes and heads back to a waiting Bastion, who has stepped forward closer to the center of the ring. Bastion goes for the huge clothesline, but Dace ducks under Bastion’s arm, and comes up behind the beast. Bastion doesn’t even have time to spin around before Dace locks on a waist lock…


(Riley) – No way…


…and pulls back as hard as he can. Dace’s muscles bulge and twitch as he pulls Bastion up, and…




…drops him head and neck first on the canvas with a very labored German Suplex!!


(Comet) – What strength by Dace Night!!! Three hundred and seventy-five pounds, and Dace just lands that huge German Suplex!!


(Riley) – He need that one too, and he’s turning the momentum in the match to favor him.


Dace, ailing and totally exhausted, lays on his back for just a second before he turns over and crawls on top of Bastion. Eddy Long slides in for the cover while Mark slams the mat from the outside in anticipation.


(Comet) – Dace with the cover…and there’s nothing Thugg can do! He’ll never make it in the ring in time.








(Comet) – WHOA!!


Unfortunately for Dace, Bastion throws him off before the ref can say two, and Dace sails several feet away from Bastion as the beast sits up. Dace’s eyes get huge as he stares at the giant, but something inside of him snaps, and he jumps back to his feet.


(Comet) – Oh shoot! Look at Dace’s face! He’s got that look. He can’t believe Bastion just threw him off like that, but that doesn’t look like fear on his face!


(Riley) – It looks like determination…like he just snapped and now he’s gonna do everything he can to snap Bastion in half!


Dace and Bastion make it to their feet at the same time, and Dace immediately comes in with Elbow Smashes to the beast’s dome. He starts firing them at will and in rapid repetition, and there’s nothing Bastion can do by take them all on his head and chin. The fans are losing their minds as Dace Night just wails on Bastion, his face red with rage and his proxy happy to see him back in the match. In fact, he lands so many with such force, Bastion’s nose begins to bleed as he backs up against the far left turnbuckle!


(Comet) – Dace Night is rolling now, and Bastion is truly in trouble! You know what they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall…and Bastion’s is near falling if you ask me.


Dace night dips down and drives a shoulder into Bastion’s stomach in the corner. Bastion’s face contorts from the force of the blow, but he has little time to take it in as Dace delivers another shoulder to his abdomen.


(Riley) – I think Dace is hurting the big man…didn’t know that was possible.


(Comet) – I didn’t either, but Dace has great strength…and if there’s anyone that could take the big man down, it’s him.


Dace, satisfied that Bastion is stunned, dips his shoulder one last time, but uses the strength in his legs to lift Bastion up to the top turnbuckle. Once Bastion is seated atop the turnbuckle, Dace gets to the second turnbuckle and places Bastion in a front face lock. He then stands up to the top turnbuckle, forcing Bastion up as well, and when they both rise, the crowd jumps to their feet as well.


(Comet) – No way he does this! No way in hell!


The fans cheer like crazy as Dace Night pulls with all his might, bringing Bastion’s legs over his head. Dace falls backwards, relieved to have that weight off his body, and…




…Bastion lands hard on the canvas with a huge Superplex!!!


(Comet) – He did it!! Dace Night did it! What strength!! He just landed a superplex on Bastion!!


(Riley) – Now THAT’S strength!! I don ‘t know how he did it…that’s almost 400 pounds, but he got him up and over…and I think that just might be it for the big man!


Mark cheers along with the crowd, while Thugg curses and King tries to figure a way to save the match a little while longer. Dace lays on his back, his chest raising and lowering quickly with every breath. After just a moment, he rolls onto his stomach, crawls on top of Bastion, and hooks his leg, Dace rolling onto his back for more leverage.


(Comet) – This could be it!!! He’s got the big man covered! Leg hooked…

















































(Riley) – JESUS! These guys continue to amaze me! First Dace scores with the Superplex, but then Bastion kicks out…I don’t understand how these guys keep going.


Dace Night rolls off of Bastion and puts his hands on his head in disbelief! He looks to Eddy Long for answers, but all Eddy can give is a shrug and two fingers. King, relieved that the match continues, claps for Bastion’s kick out, while Thugg breathes heavy. Mark can’t believe it either, but the fans, while in disbelief, continue to cheer.


(Comet) – I don’t know how much more any of these men have left in their tank. Craven is still down here on the outside, and Dace just gave everything he had…


Dace uses the ropes to help him to his feet, and as he goes towards the still down Bastion, the monster sits straight up!


(Riley) – Oh no! We’ve seen this before…and suddenly Bastion doesn’t look as hurt.


Dace, totally spent, tries to rest a bit more, and when Bastion gets to his feet, he gives the beast a very stiff elbow to the face, causing some blood to fly from Bastion’s nose. Dace delivers several more elbows, backing Bastion up against the far side ropes, before grabbing him by the wrist, and whipping him…NO…Bastion reverses sending Dace Night to the near side ropes. Dace runs top speed back at Bastion, but can’t get down quick enough to avoid the huge boot to the face that drops him instantly.


(Comet) – Bastion counters the whip and delivers a devastating Big Boot to the face of Dace Night.


Bastion wipes the blood from his nose and lets out a scream. He reaches down and grabs Dace Night up from the canvas, and then the flash bulbs start to flash as Bastion lifts the goth high over his head with a Military Press!


(Comet) – And now Bastion displaying some strength of his own, and Dace Night is in a bad position now! He’s at the whim of a madman, and there’s no telling what he’ll do.


Bastion walks, with Dace in the air, near the far ropes, while Mark tries to reason with him…as does his brother Thugg.


(Riley) – This is not going to be good! Dace Night is about to get…CLEAR OUT!!!


Riley and Comet dive clear of the table as they see Dace Night sailing straight for them…




…and the High Priest of Horrorcore is thrown from the ring to the announce table, and he goes through the table!!!


While Riley and Comet scramble to get back to their headsets, Bastion admires his work as he stares menacingly at Dace Night lying in the rubble that used to be the announce table. He looks to his brother for approval but instead finds Thugg shaking his head at him. However in looking at Thugg, he sees Michael Craven getting to his feet with his back to the ring. Craven stumbles close to the ring, and notices Dace Night laying amongst the announce table. He turns around to find Bastion upon him, reaching over the top rope and pulling Craven up by the head and chin! Craven waves his arms considerable, but when he gets his foot on the apron, he immediately grabs Bastion by the top of the head and falls back to the floor, bouncing Bastion’s neck off the top rope!




(Riley) – But back comes Michael Craven, but how much does HE have left in the tank to stop his giant.


Bastion stumbles backwards after the Hangman, turning away from Craven. The Nightmare immediately climbs to the top of the far right turnbuckle, and when Bastion turns back to face him, he leaps to the air. Craven soars, and when he comes into contact with Bastion just as he faces the former hardcore champ, Craven drives his feet into Bastion’s face with a Missile Dropkick!


(Comet) – Missile Dropkick from Michael Craven, and Bastion’s down! I think some of the beating he’s taken might be catching up to him.


Craven is slow to his feet, but when he sees Bastion down near the far right corner, he is quick to jump back up to the top turnbuckle in that same corner. He looks out at the crowd for a moment, and then to King, who urges him on. Meanwhile, Mark appears to be arguing with Thugg about what Bastion did to Dace Night, who still lays motionless at the feet of Comet and Riley.


(Riley) – Looks like the Thugg/Mark alliance is breaking down here in front of us…


(Comet) – Yes, but it looks like Michael Craven is going for the kill.


The fans, unhappily, are on their feet as Craven takes to the air. He jumps very high, allowing many to take photographs while he tucks his knees and arms, and then brings them back out as he comes down…










…but his downward direction is instantly changed as Bastion sticks his foot straight up in the air and Craven slams into his boot with his face!






Craven ends up flipping backwards and landing beside Bastion, where he immediately grabs his face and starts to roll around in intense pain. King’s spirits drop suddenly, while Thugg tries to divert Mark’s attention towards the happenings in the ring. Mark, however, is intent of arguing with Thugg about Dace.


(Riley) – Goddammit!! I’m sure that Craven will need a face lift after that! He collided full force with Bastion’s boot!


Bastion gets to his feet and tracks down Michael Craven close to the near right corner, while the fans cheer like crazy. Bastion breathes fire as he grabs Craven and gets him to his knees. He then thrusts Craven into a standing head scissors, and has to get him up to his feet after Craven falls back down to his knees. King, unsure of what to do, just watches in shock as Bastion lets out a scream!


(Comet) – Is he? Is he going for it?


Bastion grunts as he flips Craven up, keeping his hands in position near Craven’s waist. Then, with the force of a semi…






…Bastion slams Michael Craven hard down to the canvas with a vicious Powerbomb!!


(Riley) – HE IS!!


But, instead of letting Craven go, he uses all his strength to pull Craven back up into the same position, and then…






…he plants him with a SECOND POWERBOMB!!!


(Comet) – And there’s powebomb number two!!


And, just like before, Bastion does not release Craven, but pulls him back up in position. The fans are blowing the roof off Madison Square Garden when Bastion holds Craven a bit higher and then throws him as hard as he can…










(Riley) – Third Strike…how about death bomb!! Bastion has just folded Craven in half, and if I didn’t know any better, Michael Craven is freaking dead!!


Both Thugg and Mark hear the sound of the devastating finisher, and look to find Bastion standing over a near dead Michael Craven. Bastion smiles as he sees his work, and then drops down for the cover…


(Comet) – There’s no saving Michael Craven now! Bastion’s got the cover, and…



























































(Riley) – I told you he’d get involved!!!


Sure enough, from the outside, King has pulled referee Eddy Long out of the ring, stopping the three count. The fans scream for the Gambling Man’s blood as he starts to berate the referee. Mark and Thugg look at one another, nod, and start around opposite sides of the ring, Thugg standing from his chair to do so. They both walk over as quickly as they can with their canes, while King and Long argue.


(Comet) – How does he always know the right time to get involved!! That bastard!


(King) – He’s a smart man Comet…you’ll just have to accept that.


The fans start to cheer, and Bastion gets to all fours, but when he sees what has happened, he finds Thugg and Mark coming at King from both sides.


(Comet) – But wait!!! Here comes Hville Thugg and Mark Stevens…putting their differences behind them…and they’re converging on Suicide King now!


The fans start to go nuts as Mark and Thugg get closer and closer, meanwhile, King puts his hands to try and keep his two adversaries from kicking his ass. Mark and Thugg look at each other again…nod again…AND DROP KING WITH SIMULTANEOUS PUNCHES!!!


(Comet) – OH!! They both just dropped him!! That’s what he gets for interfering…


(Riley) – You’re probably right, but King’s purpose has been accomplished. He stopped the count and stalled time.


Inside the ring, Bastion stands up and stares angrily at the referee who slides back into the ring. Mark and Thugg go to King, who flew several feet back from the punch, while…







(Riley) – LOOK!! Bastion’s got the ref!


Mark and Thugg roll King under the ropes into the ring where he holds his face in pain. Thugg slides in first just as Bastion lifts the referee high into the air. The fans are making all kinds of noise as Thugg is the first to slide into the ring and as soon as he gets to his feet…




…he slaps a similar one handed choke on the Suicide King!!




However, Mark Stevens slides into the ring after Thugg, and Bastion drops the referee who goes down to his knees and grabs at his own throat. Bastion slides out of the ring, while Mark yells something to Thugg and then makes hand motions towards himself.


(Comet) – NO! I think Mark wants him! Mark wants Thugg to give King to him! The Suicide King is in HUGE trouble!!


The fans are cheering their fucking heads of

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Guest Suicide King

, while Thugg looks around at them. The fans give him affirmation, and Thugg throws the frightened Suicide King over to Mark, who immediately gives King a kick to the stomach with his good leg. King doubles from the blow, and the fans lose their fucking minds as Mark thrusts King in a standing head scissors.


(Comet) – Oh yes…oh hell yeah!!!


Mark looks around at all the screaming fans, while his eyes begin to water as the fans look like they’ve been waiting for this moment all their lives. Mark takes his right hand, raises it to the sky, and twirls his finger to the chorus of thousands of flashbulbs.


(Comet) – They love it!!! I love it!! Nail ‘em Mark!!


Mark reaches down and grabs King’s right arm and hooks it. Then he grabs King’s left arm and hooks it.


There’s nothing King can do…







There’s nothing Craven can do…





There’s nothing anyone can do…















Except him.


(Comet) – SON OF A BITCH!!!


(Riley) – COMET!


Mark lets out a high pitched scream of intense pain as he crumples to the ground clutching at his left knee. Thugg, totally stunned, looks up behind where Mark used to stand, and sees the gigantic form of Bastion standing tall clutching a steel chair in his right hand.




(Riley) – I can’t say Mark and I have seen eye to eye much, but that was probably the most despicable act I’ve ever seen in my many years.


(Comet) – That goddamn evil son of a bitch just creamed Mark right in his bad knee…from behind no less! Why on earth would he save King?


Thugg’s jaw is on the floor as he stares at his brother. Bastion, foaming at the mouth, throws the chair down with authority, and then sees his brother staring at him with disbelief, which quickly turns to anger. The fans boo like they’ve never booed before, and many of them begin to throw garbage to ringside. Bastion’s face softens when he sees his brother’s face, and when Thugg walks up to him, the big man starts to shake a bit as he stares at his big brother. Perhaps it’s remorse, or maybe sadness at disappointing his brother, but whatever it is, it’s something we’ve never seen before from Bastion.


“What the fuck you doing?”


(Comet) – Get him Thugg! Get him, and get him outta here! There’s no place I the SWF for people like that!!


Thugg’s voice can be heard slightly over the crowd and Mark’s screams. King, deciding now is a good time to exit, slides out of the ring on the left side and watches Thugg confront Bastion. Outside the ring, Dace Night is on his knees at the feet of Comet and Riley, but no one pays him any attention as their full focus is on the ring. Thugg starts to yell at Bastion, who just stands there like a deer in the headlights, watching his brother scream at him.


(Riley) – I don’t think I’ve ever seen Thugg this mad. That’s his family…his flesh and blood…and he just cost them the chance to embarrass and injure King, and could have changed this match entirely. I don’t know what Thugg is going to do here, but by the look on his face, this could be the last we see of Bastion.




Bastion looks like he’s about to cry, and the fans hope to god that someone stabs the monster in the neck.




Thugg’s orders to his brother are very much audible, but the reaction is not anything close to what anyone expected. Bastion turns and takes a step away from Thugg…


(Comet) – He told him to leave!! Thugg told Bastion to leave…and he’s leaving!!












No he’s not.




Sure enough, Bastion’s face fills with rage as he turns around and slaps the one handed choke on his own brother. The fans gasp…Mark’s jaw drops…King’s face lights up…Comet jumps to his feet…Riley nearly shits himself…as Bastion raises Thugg up in the air…










…and sends him crashing to the mat with a huge spinning chokeslam!!




(Riley) – Monster?




(Riley) – That takes the cake right there.


Bastion stands tall over his brother as he lies on the mat, and a close-up of his face shows his lips reading, “I have no brother.” King, on the outside, unlike the fans, loves every minute of it. He slides back in the ring while Bastion continues to stand fuming over Thugg and Mark is just devastated.


(Comet) – Look at King that sick bastard! He’s laughing…he’s happy about! Why is Bastion helping him? Are they in cahoots? Was this a freaking set up?!?


King strolls over confidently and pats Bastion on the back, and then all of Comet’s questions are answered…









Bastion raises King high into the air, King’s limbs flailing about comically, and then brings him down…




…with another spinning chokeslam!!!




(Riley) – First the chairshot to Mark’s knee…then the Untamed on his own brother…and now an Untamed on the Suicide King! What’s next?!?


Mark leans against the left side ropes, his head hung low as he clutches his knee. Bastion stands over all that have fallen in the ring by his hands, admiring his work…but he senses something…but what? He can feel it over his shoulder…


(Comet) – WAIT A SECOND!!


Bastion turns to see, and…



















…his entire head is rocked by a steel chair…HELD BY DACE FREAKING NIGHT!!!


(Riley) – DACE NIGHT!! HE’S BACK!!


Half of Dace’s face is covered in blood from going through the announce table earlier, and Bastion’s nose begins to bleed once again. The fans are going ballistic as Dace’s face is red with fury, but Bastion only stumbles back from the chair shot.







But that doesn’t stop Dace Night from delivering another tremendous chairshot to Bastion’s face and head. This time, Bastion stumbles backwards a bit farther, and the fans are going apeshit!




Bastion, standing but unable to do much, wavers slightly, and then…









One more vicious chairshot warps the chair as it collides with Bastion’s face. The fans scream, hoot, and holler with delight as the big man falls backwards like a tree to the canvas.


(Comet) – He did it!! He took down the monster!!


(Riley) – Never liked Dace either, but thank god for him! Somebody HAD to stop Bastion!!


Dace Night, in a complete fury now, throws the chair down hard, and it lands, mangled, next to the chair that Bastion had brought into the ring. Totally enraged, Dace night walks over and grabs up the chair that Bastion used to assault Mark’s knee, and proceeds back over to Bastion, who appears to be dead. He raises the chair high into the air, and slams it hard down on Bastion’s face…not once…but twice!!!


(Comet) – Good! Make sure he’s good and dead!!


Dace casts the chair to the side, and turns to find that Michael Craven is on his knees and very close. Unfortunately, Dace didn’t turn around in time and he is completely doubled over by a blatant blow right to his genitals!




(Riley) – Wow. Talk about good timing from Michael Craven!


Dace Night hops about the ring holding his balls, while the fans boo and Craven tracks him. Michael follows Dace to the center of the ring. Once upon him, Craven hoists Dace up in a Fireman’s Carry, and the fans start again with the throwing of objects.


(Comet) – He’s setting him up for that vicious Gulf Coast Crunch! If he hits this, this match is over!


(Riley) – And it will conclude a remarkable comeback for Craven, who I thought was out of this match.


Craven smiles, and then begins his rotation of Dace Night…







…but as Dace whips around towards the rear of Michael Craven, Dace grabs Craven’s head to prevent him from connecting with the Neckbreaker to complete his secondary finisher. Instead, he drops behind Craven, landing with his back to the Nightmare, and reaches back to grab Craven’s arms. With Craven’s arms in grasp, Dace lifts him up in Crucifix Powerbomb position.


(Comet) – YES! YES!


Craven shakes his head no, but it’s too late. Dace releases him backwards, grabs his head, and drops down to a seated position, causing the back of Craven’s head to connect hard with his shoulder, sending the fans into a fevered frenzy.




(Riley) – OH NO!! King! Do something!!


(Comet) – King is out! He can’t do squat!


Seated against the ropes, Mark screams a shout of glee as Craven hits the canvas and lies there. The fans have totally lost it and are overwhelming security with their actions of happiness. Dace Night stands up and lets out a roar, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mark Stevens clutching at his knee! Mark gives him the thumbs up, and Dace gets an idea. He reaches down and grabs Craven by the head, lifting him up to all fours.


(Comet) – What is he doing?? Pin him!! Win the match!


(Riley) – Are you kidding me? What’s he doing? He’s gotta get the pin, and he’s gotta get it now!


Raising Craven to his knees proves difficult, but Dace manages, and then he thrusts Craven into a standing head scissors! If you think the fans had lost it before, then what the fans are doing now is something never before seen! Dace looks at Mark and says,


“This is for you.”


The flash bulbs sparkle as Dace Night twirls his right index finger in the air…




…then hooks both of Craven’s arms and drops to his knees, jamming his head hard on the canvas with a pedigree!!


(Riley) – WALK OFF!!




The fans can’t get any louder as Dace rolls Craven over onto his back. He then lies on top of Michael, hooks his leg, and rolls onto his back for leverage. Eddy Long dives in, and the fans help out with the count…








































































Dace Night rolls off of Craven and lies on his back for a long while just soaking in the cheers of the thousands of fans at Madison Square Garden. Mark throws back his head in celebration, since he can’t exactly stand right now.




(Comet) – Perfect!! Absolutely perfect!!! Dace Night!! What heart!! What determination!! And he did it…


(Riley) – He sure did!! But what about Bastion?? He destroyed Mark’s knee…destroyed his own brother…and destroyed the Suicide King!!






“Christraping” by Black Metal hits the speakers as Dace finally gets to his feet and throws his hands in the air in celebration. He looks at Mark, but instead of seeing an elated new commissioner, he sees a wide-eyed Mark Stevens who is trying to gasp for the warning to Dace. Dace Night turns around…









…and gets a boot to the gut!


(Comet) – OH COME ON!!!


Bastion grabs the doubled Dace Night, and thrusts him into a standing head scissors. The fans begin to boo like mad as Bastion grabs him up by the waist, flips him up, and then…




…brings him down with a powerbomb…




…followed by a second powerbomb…




…followed by a huge Jacknife Powerbomb that folds Dace up like an accordion!!


(Riley) – This is freaking ridiculous!!! That animal!! That monster!!


(Comet) – How did he even get up? He got killed by those chairshots! How is he even up?!?


The fans scream for Bastion’s blood as he stands over the fallen winner of the match. He looks around the ring and sees everyone laid out and smiles. He notices that Mark is sitting up against the ropes, but doesn’t attack him. Instead, Bastion grabs his own knee and starts to laugh!


(Comet) – What a sick human being!!! What a despicable, vile monster!! He has caused more damage here tonight than anyone I can remember!!


Bastion walks to the near side ropes as “Who We Be” hits the speakers, replacing Dace’s music, and he drops down, rolls under the bottom rope, and heads back towards the backstage area.




Bastion smiles as the fans boo him, and he soon disappears to the back. The camera pans the carnage in the ring, and finally lands on a teary-eyed, but happy “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens.


(Comet) – It’s time for a new era! No more beatings! No more random firings! The SWF has returned to the people, and it couldn’t be a better time!


(Riley) – But at what cost? Mark’s knee could be destroyed forever, and we have no idea if Dace Night will ever be ok again.


(Comet) – That’s right Bobby…but let’s savor tonight! For we can finally be happy again to be employed by the S…W…F!!!


A final shot of Mark Stevens is shown, and Genesis fades off to the next segment.

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Guest Suicide King



Tom Flesher

Age: 22

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 213lbs

Bench: 305lbs

Move List: 22+ practiced moves, 4+ variables.

Finisher(s): Boilermaker, The Ego Trip.

Accomplishments: SJL European Champion, SJL World Champion, SWF United States Champion, SWF ICTV Champion, SWF Tag Team Champion, SWF World Champion(curent).

Last Five: 4-1


Judge Mental

Age: 45

Height: 6'3

Weight: 242lbs

Bench: 350lbs

Move List: 25+ practiced moves, 5+ variables.

Finisher(s): The Surprise Witness, Capital Punishment, Held Without Bail

Accomplishments: SJL World Champion, SWF Hardcore Champion, SWF Tag Team Champion.

Last Five: 5-0







HOT/COLD: Tom Flesher(hot), Judge Mental(hot)


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Guest Suicide King

O Fortuna

velut luna

statu variabilis,

semper crescis

aut decrescis;

vita detestabilis

nunc obdurate

et tunc curat

ludo mentis aciem,



dissolvit ut glaciem.


“O Fortuna” echoes through the legendary Madison Square Garden as the tension in the crowd reaches a fever pitch. The camera pans across the arena, showing the gleaming-white marble pillars adoring the Garden as well as the numerous fans crammed in like Sardines to see the premier wrestling event of the year. Genesis IV is upon us. Like a child counting the days until Christmas, wrestling fans spend the year looking forward to the SWF’s annual Genesis pay-per-view. The difference is that, for a child, the anticipation is better than the actual event, but Genesis IV is blowing the anticipation away. Only one match remains to be decided. The SWF World Title is on the line, and the New York City fans know that this is going to be an exhibition of the highest order.


“How can someone hear that song and not be inspired?” muses Cyclone Comet as the last few strains of “O Fortuna” ring through the Garden. “Fans, welcome back to the SWF’s flagship pay-per-view, Genesis! About to get underway is the final match of the night, the main event, the SWF World Championship Title bout!”


“Yes sir,” agrees Bobby Riley, “this is going to be the match of the year, let me tell you. You have two of the best wrestlers ever to step onto the mat. You have ‘the Judge’ William Hearford and ‘the Superior One’ Tom Flesher, two members of the Magnificent Seven. They’ve trained together for over a year now. Their styles are so similar that they throw each other’s moves around like their own. Flesher started his second SWF World Title reign by making the Boston Strangler quit with the Held Without Bail stretch plum, for Christ’s sake. These two are going to take it to each other on the mat, and we’re going to see a five-star affair. I guarantee it.”


“Of course,” adds Comet, “that assumes that these two knaves can conduct themselves civilly.” Comet snickers to himself. “A judge… conducting himself civilly… oh my. In any case, the two combatants have been tense lately, and it seems that His Honor is insulted that Citizen Flesher is using his technique to win matches, as we saw at the last television show.”


“Oh, stop trying to manufacture animosity. What we’re going to see is a punch-for-punch, grinding, catch-as-catch-can wrestling match between two of the most talented workers we’ve ever seen. Now, let’s go to Funyon.”

Funyon steps into the ring, his purple-trimmed toga looking absolutely brilliant. He subtly adjusts the laurel wreath over his ears, then announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is the final match of the night, it is your main event with a sixty-minute time limit, and it is for the S…W…F… WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!” The fans go absolutely crazy at the announcement. “Introducing first, the challenger…”


The lights dim to a harsh shade of red, and the crowd goes quiet. The drumbeats of Rage Against The Machine’s “Testify” begin softly, but crescendo steadily and slowly. As it gets louder and louder, the fans begin to boo loudly, until the cymbal strike, and a moment of silence…






The song picks up at its hot point. Three sets of red pyrotechnics shoot up all across the stage, and “the Judge” William Hearford steps through the velvet curtain. With a focused gaze, he pauses on the stage, looking out at the crowd with his dignified but dismissive expression. As “Testify” continues blaring through Madison Square Garden, the Judge begins a slow, purposeful stride to the ring.


“Making his way to the ring,” says the SWF’s favorite heavily salted snack treat, “weighing in at 242 pounds, and hailing from Royal Oak, Michigan, he is the challenger tonight… representing the Magnificent Seven, this is ‘Judge Mental,’ William Hearford!!!!!!”


Hearford enters the ring to a showering of boos, taking a second to acknowledge the crowd as the music fades out.


“William Hearford is looking focused tonight,” says Bobby Riley. “It might come as a surprise to you, but I’m a bit of a fan of Tom Flesher…”


Comet coughs.


“But I have to say, looking at William Hearford, he’s got to have the advantage coming in. He’s in excellent shape, and he’s been working in the wrestling business much longer than Flesher has.”


“He’s spent some time in the tag team scene,” agrees Comet, “but William Hearford is definitely a ring general. This will be a hell of a fight.”


He paces around the ring for a moment as the red lights fade out and the arena goes dark.


“And his opponent…”


With the house lights down, the SmarkTron goes blank, then lights up a gleaming white. In thin blue lettering, the words “SUPERIORITY COMPLEX,” “MAGNIFICENT SEVEN” and “WORLD CHAMPION” appear on it, holding for a moment. Then…






With an explosion of blue pyro, the arena lights up and Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” blares out across MSG’s sound system. After a moment, Tom Flesher steps through the cloud of smoke, wearing his blue warm-up suit and his SWF World Title belt wrapped around his waist. He stops on the stage, looking out to the crowd with a cocky sneer. He dusts his hands off, as if to say “Let’s get this over with,” then begins his walk to the ring.


“Look at the look on Flesher’s face,” says Riley. “Hearford and Flesher take each other seriously. They’re going to have a fair fight, a hard-hitting fight, but it’s not going to be easy and they know it.”


“Citizen Hearford will have an easy time of winning the match if Citizen Flesher shows his standard lack of ethics,” replies Comet. “He can get himself disqualified and end the match early on.”


“Tom would never!”


“Oh, how could I be so foolish?” yawns Comet.


Flesher pauses midway down the ramp as “Kashmir” nears the 50-second mark and strikes a careful pose, turning his head slightly and folding his arms across his chest as the symphonic hook rings through the arena. The pyro explodes behind him, catching him in silhouette and highlighting his broad-shouldered, neckless frame. Finally, as the music resumes, he enters the ring and takes his place in the center. The music fades, and Funyon takes the Index Card of Superiority out of his pocket. He clears his throat and begins reading.


“Tom Flesher,” he says, “is having the time of his life here in New York City, in the legendary Madison Square Garden. Main-eventing Genesis in Madison Square Garden, Tom says, is the second-best thing that could happen to a wrestler. The only thing better is to retain the World Title in the main event of Genesis at Madison Square Garden, and as tonight is already the highlight of his career, he expects to go all the way tonight and pin his stablemate’s shoulders to the mat for the one, two, three… because not only is he the SWF World Champion, he is ‘the Superior One,’ TOM FLESHER!!!!!!!”


Flesher nods, golf-clapping for himself. As the fans’ booing dies down, he hands the SWF World Championship to referee Mark Hebner after kissing it. He then strips his warmup suit off, stretching out briefly before returning to the center. Flesher and Hearford lock eyes in the center, and each offers a wooden handshake for the cameras. Then, as they release their holds, Hebner calls for the bell.






Flesher and Judge circle slowly around, neither man wanting to take the risk of making the first move. Slowly, Flesher extends one arm, offering a Greco-Roman knuckle lock. Hearford obliges, locking his hand on and offering the other. They step in, slamming their chests together as they begin the match in the classical style.


“This one is underway,” says Bobby Riley, “and it’s starting just as we knew it would. Flesher and Hearford are locking up in a pure wrestling position, neither one with the advantage, and they’re going to wrestle clean from here on out. Comet, I tell ya, this is going to be incredible.”


“Ah ha, my friend, but these gentlemen’s agreements have a tendency to break down when one man starts to lose ground,” replies Comet.


“Tom Flesher and William Hearford are too intelligent and upstanding for that,” Riley says with derision. “This match is going to be wrestled to its logical conclusion, no interference or chicanery whatsoever. Not that either of them would stoop to that level anyway.”


The two members of the Magnificent Seven struggle back and forth, each man trying to gain a positional advantage in the knuckle lock position. Their chests BUTT into each other, with Flesher trying to use his compact, fireplug build to force Hearford into bad position and Hearford taking advantage of his inherent lankiness to constantly readjust his stance and try to put Flesher off-balance. They fight back and forth, the advantage being thrown around as it often is early in such an even contest.


“What you’re seeing here,” notes Riley, “is what so often decides a close, technical match like this. One man knows how to use his body style to his advantage more than the other, and he’s able to capitalize more on the moves he knows he can execute.”


“Also,” says Comet with mock seriousness, “a man with a fireplug build like Tom Flesher is often able to hide a foreign object somewhere in his ring attire. For example, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was to take advantage of the height disparity to quickly bend down and retrieve brass knuckles from his boot.”


“You’re a dirty gossip, you know that?”


“Why, Citizen Riley, I just showered this afternoon.”


Flesher backs up a few inches, then stutter-steps and drops to his knees to attack a single-leg takedown. The Judge holds on to the knuckle lock, spreading Flesher’s arms and keeping him from gripping the leg, and then quickly sprawls backwards to keep Flesher from butting the leg with his body. Flesher, caught on his knees, tries to backpedal, and Hearford steps into him to achieve a better angle of attack. As Flesher comes back up to his feet, Hearford fights in, struggling to get his arms near Flesher’s trunk in order to grab a body lock. Flesher, using his arm strength, forcibly spreads Hearford’s hands to keep him from getting into prime throwing position. They strain back and forth, knowing that a match between two suplex artists who can work on the mat can end early on with a flash pin or go an hour.


Once again, they bump chests, trying to tighten their grips and jockey for position. Flesher slams into Hearford, throwing him off-balance for an instant and then releasing his hand. He doubles up his grip on Hearford’s left arm, quickly stepping in and locking on a double wristlock. Hearford, caught by surprise, tries to bail out, but Flesher steps back to the center of the ring and holds the standing wristlock tight. He keeps the pressure on, avoiding expending any real energy while still forcing his opponent to fight his way out of a painful hold. Hearford pushes and pulls, trying to loosen the hold but failing. He steps around Flesher’s left side, loosening the pressure slightly. Flesher realizes that Hearford is catching on and adjusting himself to the hold, and so he changes his grip slightly, then ducks under and comes up behind the Judge with a chicken wing! The fans applaud, pleased by the scientific exhibition.


“See, Comet, this is just what I was talking about. Tom Flesher and William Hearford are putting on a clinic for these New York City fans. Man, even when the freestyle World Championships were here last week, the wrestling wasn’t this good.”


Flesher tightens the chicken wing, bringing it slightly off the back to turn it into a hammerlock and tweak the left shoulder in addition to the elbow and wrist joints. Hearford tries to escape, but caught in a classic amateur hook, there isn’t much for him to do. Flesher, meanwhile, is able to control the pace. Seemingly able to change his position at will, he ducks down and drives his head under Hearford’s free arm. He wraps the free arm around the Judge’s waist, looking for a hammerlock backdrop suplex. The Judge immediately begins fighting, twinging his shoulder slightly to avoid the inevitable muscle injury that comes with being suplexed onto a cocked arm. He manages to shake Flesher up by clamping his right arm over his head, distracting him long enough to use a limp arm counter and break the hammerlock. A few fans applaud as Hearford shakes his arm out, then locks on a tight side headlock.


“And the tides of Justice turn back to… Justice!” says Cyclone Comet. “Citizen Hearford shows that when it comes to wrestling ability, he’s on the same level as Flesher. He can go with him, counter for counter, until one of them tires out. And the man who tires out shall be taunted and booed like no other, made to feel like a shamed and scalded dog until my throat is sore!”


Flesher, caught in the side headlock, is in familiar position. He reaches around Hearford’s waist and locks his hands once again, then brings his hips in to initiate a backdrop suplex. Hearford knows Flesher’s intent, though, and sags his hips down to avoid getting thrown. This breaks Flesher’s grip, but also loosens the side headlock. Flesher steps around, changing the angle at which he faces the Judge’s body and moving almost directly perpendicular. With a lightning-fast leg shot, he dives in and wraps his arms around Hearford’s right thigh. He drives in, putting all of Hearford’s weight on his left foot. The Judge sprawls backwards, freeing his right arm from the loosened headlock and throwing it under Flesher’s chin, forcing it with an uppercut motion under Flesher’s face. He wrenches Flesher’s neck away from his body with the crossface counter to the high-crotch takedown, then sprawls again. Hearford powerfully kicks the right leg back, breaking Flesher’s grip on it and readjusting his position so that he faces Flesher. As Flesher comes up to his standing position, Hearford throws a stiff lariat and hooks him by the head, slamming him to the mat like a pancake! Mark Hebner sees Flesher’s shoulders hit the mat and drops down to count







But Flesher kicks out! He bellies down, assuming the defensive position and gluing his chest and hips to the mat to avoid giving Hearford any opening to turn him to his back.


“We see this often from Tom,” Bobby Riley reminds the fans. “It hasn’t come into play lately, when Flesher was wrestling stiffs like the Boston Strangler and The Finger –”


“I believe that’s Va’aiga…”


“Whatever. But when Flesher’s wrestled guys like Mak Francis, Michael Craven… he’s always been willing to go to the mat and fight. The thing is, most of the smart guys know they can’t beat him on the mat, especially when he’s fresh, and so they just stand up and cut him loose to try to keep things where they have an advantage. I expect Hearford will do the same.”


Hearford starts to stand up, and Riley nods with a smug “Mm-hmm.” Before he gets to his feet, though, the Judge drops back down and nails Flesher in the ribcage with a diving elbow smash! Flesher cries out in pain, and Hearford stays on him. He grinds the elbow into Flesher’s ribs, even as Flesher curls his body around his ribcage to try to protect it. Hearford continues the assault, throwing a few forearms in for good measure. Some of the fans boo, indicating that Hearford is taking cheap shots.


“The fans don’t like this, Robert,” says Comet.


“Well, it’s not like they have anything to do with what goes on in the ring. What William Hearford is doing is perfectly legal, and in a hard-hitting match like this, it’s almost to be expected.”


“Don’t you think it’s almost a violation of the agreement about the way the match was being wrestled?”


“Comet, that’s a stupid idea, and you’re a stupid person for saying it. Flesher and Hearford both knew coming in what they were in for. Flesher will get the edge back, throw a few stiff strikes of his own, and everything will be even, so if you’d shut up and stop trying to create animosity, I’d appreciate it.”


As Hearford continues to work on Flesher’s ribs, the World Champion slides his hips far out to the side. Quickly, he rolls his hips over, sitting up and extending his arm behind him. With Hearford trying to keep up, Flesher hits a picture-perfect switch, and comes up on top of his opponent! He slides his left foot under Hearford’s hip, throwing on an amateur-style leg ride to keep him on the mat. With his stablemate neutralized on the mat, Flesher casually throws his forearm against the back of Hearford’s neck and starts grinding it slowly back and forth. Hearford winces, his expression showing a mixture of pain and anger as Flesher continues working his neck. The champion forces his forearm down with all his strength. Instinctively, the Judge forces his head back up, trying to minimize the pain. As soon as Hearford’s head pops up, the Superior One throws a stiff left forearm across his face, keeping the neck turned and grabbing the Judge by the tricep in order to keep the hold. In clearly dominant position, Flesher hops to the side, perpendicular to the Judge. He throws his right arm between Hearford’s legs, cocking the right leg and trapping it in the crook of his elbow. He maneuvers the head to the knee and locks his hands in the classic crossface cradle, throwing the Judge to his back for







But no more, as Hearford powerfully kicks his legs apart and rolls to his stomach to break the hold.


“That was incredible,” says Bobby Riley. “When’s the last time you saw a move like that being used here in the SWF?”


“Mak Francis uses them all the time,” replies Comet.


“No, I mean by someone good.”


As the challenger bellies down, Flesher slides to the side once again, this time attacking the head from above rather than below. He headbutts the Judge in the ribs, and as Hearford instinctively curls up to protect his ribs, Flesher hooks the head and the near leg. He brings the head and the knee together and locks his hands as the Judge falls to his far side. Flesher drives forward, moving him from his hip onto his back. He holds the inside cradle and Mark Hebner counts







But once again, the Judge is able to kick out powerfully, breaking Flesher’s grip and bellying down to avoid a further count.


“You have to wonder,” says Comet, “why Tom Flesher is expending so much energy on holds that aren’t getting him any closer to the win.”


“Au contraire, Vomit. Flesher is not only forcing William Hearford to carry his 213 pounds in addition to his own weight, he’s also gaining a significant mental edge every time the referee makes a count. They say that back points don’t count in the SWF, but Hearford knows he’s being cradled over and over. Flesher’s simply showing superior skill right now.”


Hearford bellies down again, and Flesher dives onto him. He grabs his opponent, locking on a waistlock for a German suplex. He stands up, trying to throw the Judge directly from the defensive position to his back in a broad arc, but Hearford is still too fresh to be tossed like that. He swings his hips under, balancing on his feet and forcing Flesher to restart the throw. As he does, though, the challenger drops his hips and hits a lightning-fast standing switch, going behind Flesher and locking his hands in a back waistlock of his own! Flesher arches forward, moving to hug the mat to avoid the deadly German suplex that all the Magnificent Seven members seem to know inside out. Hearford, however, seems to see that coming, and executes a quick leg reap to take Flesher’s leg out from under him! He keeps the leg under Flesher’s, falling to the mat in a position similar to Flesher’s leg ride a few moments ago. Once he hits the mat, he forces his right leg under Flesher’s hip as well, locking on a tight body scissors grip. Flesher panics, lunging for the ropes, and in doing so exposes his neck! Comet mutters, “Fool!” as the Judge leans forward, pleased that Flesher essentially gave him the second half of the hold. He throws his arms around Flesher’s head, locking on a sleeper hold!


“The Judge locks on the doushime sleeper,” says Bobby Riley, “and the plot thickens! This is one of Hearford’s tightest submission holds, and whether Flesher grabs the ropes or not, this is going to hurt the World Champion later in the match.”


Sure enough, Flesher reaches out and grabs the ropes, clinging desperately to them to avoid an untimely end to the match. Mark Hebner begins his count, and William simply keeps the hold on.










Hearford finally releases the hold, taking his time in breaking the body scissors, and backs away. Flesher takes a second to catch his breath, and starts to stand up. Hearford doesn’t give him a chance, though, as he quickly throws a stiff kick into Flesher’s ribs. Flesher doubles over to protect them, but Hearford strikes them again with a knee. With Flesher bent over, Hearford simply throws him to the mat, mounting his back and pulling Flesher’s arms over his legs to lock on a camel clutch!


“Excellent strategy from His Honor,” says Riley. “He’s continuing to focus on the ribs and try to outwrestle Flesher. As I’ve been saying the whole time, at some point one of these guys will break from the meatgrinder of a beating they’re taking, and the best part is that it’s all clean! This is old-school wrestling all the way, skill versus skill, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.”


As Riley finishes saying that, Hearford moves his hands up from below Flesher’s chin and onto his face. “Uh oh,” murmurs Comet as Hearford cocks his two index fingers into J shapes and slides them into Flesher’s mouth. With a look of focus and intensity, Judge begins pulling the two fish hooks out to each side, seemingly trying to ream Flesher’s mouth open! The fans begin to boo the blatant cheating, and Mark Hebner orders Hearford to break the hold! Once again, Hearford holds on as long as he possibly can.










He breaks the hold, standing up and looking down at Flesher as he grabs his mouth in pain. Flesher looks to his stablemate, his forehead knotted up in anger, and glares.




“This match just rose to another level!” beams Bobby Riley. “William Hearford is taking charge of this one, throwing down the gauntlet for Tom Flesher! How’s the World Champion going to respond?”


Flesher stares, sitting up and scooting backwards. The look in his eyes seems to say, “How could you do that?” He quickly gets to his feet, backing away more out of shock than anything else. Hearford shrugs as if to say, “It’s the World Title.” He steps in, attacking Flesher’s body with a bear hug. Flesher tries to fight his way out of it, but mentally doesn’t have everything straight. As a result, the Judge is able to easily hook Flesher in a body lock and lift him into the air, swinging him through and slamming him across one knee with a pendulum backbreaker! Flesher slumps to the mat, and Hearford covers him for







Flesher gets a shoulder up, though, and manages to slide out of the pin. He starts to get to his feet, but Hearford kicks him back to the mat and continues battering his ribs with stiff kicks! Flesher tries to avoid the blows, but Hearford holds on to the ropes and continues kicking him over and over again! Flesher tries to slide out of the ring, but the Judge grabs him by the head and yanks him back into the ring. Flesher throws a weak palm strike, still stunned from the kicks to his sore ribcage. Hearford absorbs the blow, shrugging it off due to its lack of force. He then spins Flesher around so that his head is facing the center of the ring and bends him over to the side, slapping on a standing abdominal stretch! Immediately, the fans begin booing!


“These fans are idiots,” sighs Riley. “They have an excellent technical match in front of them, at the top pay-per-view of the year. The buyrates, incidentally, are incredible… and they’re booing Judge Hearford. What the hell is wrong with them?


“Clearly,” says Comet, “they just don’t like him. Let’s face it, he’s not exactly Mr. Charisma.”


“What are you talking about? Have you ever read one of his briefs? It’s incredible stuff!”


“Yes, that one-way ratchet theory is definitely riveting entertainment… although I shouldn’t at all be surprised that you’re interested in Hearford’s briefs.”


Riley says nothing.


“And since you enjoy the combative sports,” continues Comet, “I’m fairly certain you like boxers as well.”


All over the country, people in TV Land groan.


The challenger twists the World Champion over to one side, tightening the abdominal stretch. Flesher winces and grimaces in pain as the Judge grapevines one leg and forces Flesher’s head the other way. Flesher, in fact, looks to be on the verge of submitting, so referee Mark Hebner drops down to ask him if he wants to give up. As soon as the official’s back is turned, William Hearford reaches up and grabs the top rope, pulling it for leverage! Tom Flesher screams out in pain, and some of the fans begin screaming that Hearford is holding the ropes. Hebner leerily looks up, but before he sees anything, the crafty veteran releases the top rope. Hebner shakes his head and returns his attention to Flesher.


“William Hearford is making excellent use of his surroundings,” says Bobby Riley. “His significant advantage in experience is showing through here, as he’s simply finding more opportunities he can take advantage of than Flesher is.”


“By that logic,” says Comet, “Citizen Flesher hasn’t been able to see any opportunities to cheat. Would you have us believe that the World Champion is BLIND, Robert?”


“When did I say they were cheating, Comet? Neither one of them has cheated in this match, and neither one of them will. You just wait and see.”


“If it’s that bad, Robert, I can have them get you a new monitor.”


Hearford holds the abdominal stretch on legally for a few seconds after Mark Hebner turns his back again, just to make sure that the official isn’t going to quickly turn back and catch him in the act. Once he’s safely established that Hebner isn’t quite intelligent enough to do that, Hearford reaches over and grabs the top rope again. He wrenches the abdominal stretch, and Flesher cries out in pain. Hearford pulls hard on the top rope, increasing the pressure even further as Flesher’s face twists up into a mask of agony! Hebner asks him again and again if he wants to submit, but each time, Flesher shakes his head!


“But look at the resilience that Tom Flesher is showing,” says Bobby Riley. “William Hearford is taking this hold to the limit, and Flesher is still refusing to submit. That’s just incredible. He’s a man worth admiring.”


“True,” says Comet grudgingly. “Citizen Flesher is certainly showing a well-developed sense of self-discipline and a high threshold of pain… undoubtedly characteristics that put him in position to cheat his way to the World Title.”


The Judge increases the pressure even further, leaning to the side and using the top rope to help him balance. Flesher screams in pain again, and this time when Hebner asks if he wants to submit, Flesher simply doesn’t answer. Hearford releases some of the pressure by standing back up, regaining his balance and focusing again on simply using the rope for leverage. A moment later, he releases the rope a fraction of a second before Hebner looks up to make sure the hold is still legal. The referee, concerned about the legality of the hold, notices the top rope shaking, and asks Hearford outright if he’d been using the ropes. Hearford shakes his head, looking offended and saying “NO!” The fans, of course, boo the ridiculous display loudly.


“Mark Hebner should be ashamed of himself!” says Bobby Riley. “Why does he insist on constantly harassing a man as talented and skilled in the art of professional wrestling as William Hearford? He wouldn’t break the rules! He’s a judge, for god’s sake! There are ethical implications or something!”


“Well, since you’re obviously well-informed…”


“Are you saying I don’t do my homework?”


“Not in so many words, no. I’m simply saying you’re stupid, Friend Robert.”


Hebner leerily drops back down to the mat, looking Flesher in the face. Hearford grabs the top rope again, leaning all the way out. This time, though, the official DOES turn his head back immediately, and catches Hearford in the act! The Judge shrugs, readjusts his position, and keeps a firm grip on the rope. Hebner shouts for him to break the hold, but Hearford simply says, “Count it.” Grudgingly, Hebner counts










Finally, Hearford breaks the hold and shoves Flesher to the mat. He cockily lays across Flesher, and Hebner counts













NO! Flesher kicks out!


“That’s just unbelievable,” Riley says. “I mean, he’s so tough! It’s just too bad that he’s breaking down already at the hands of the more experienced Judge William Hearford.”


“Of course he is, Robert… William Hearford is breaking the rules right and left!”


“You can’t prove that!”


“Look at the instant replay!”


“Sorry, Comet, but the SWF doesn’t allow the use of instant reply in match decisions. I know, I’m as disappointed as you are, but you simply can’t prove that William Hearford hasn’t been following the rules to the letter.”


After kicking out, Flesher rolls to the side and starts back up to his feet. Hearford follows him over and ducks down into a tight bodylock, looking for a Northern Lights suplex. Flesher sprawls backwards, though, and clamps on a tight front headlock! The Judge, caught off-guard, panics and tries to back out of it. Flesher rolls with the motion, hooking him by the shoulder and wrenching the chin out to the side. He drives forward, forcing Hearford to his BUTT on the mat, and then élans forward to sandwich the Judge between him and the mat! As Hearford tries to fight his way out of the chin wrench, the fans pop for the down-and-dirty catch-style Cement Job, and Mark Hebner counts







But Hearford gets a shoulder up! He rolls toward the way Flesher is wrenching his neck, and Flesher obligingly slides out of the way. He rolls out in front of Hearford, reasserting his neck wrench and hooking the front headlock back up once the Judge rolls to his stomach!


“Now, I’m starting to wonder about this technique,” says Riley. “Flesher has Hearford’s neck tied up, but he’s not using the headlock to its full potential. What he needs to do is arch his hips in and force Hearford’s chin into his chest, to cut off the windpipe ever so slightly.”


“Of course, that would be illegal,” sighs Comet.


“It’s only illegal if the referee catches you.”


Flesher tightens the headlock, clasping his hands under Hearford’s chin to keep the grip secure, rather than focus on the neck wrench. He stands up, pulling the challenger to his feet, and fluidly arches backwards to throw Hearford overhead and to the mat with a front headlock suplex! He floats over and switches back off to the chin wrench, pinning Hearford down for
















NO!!!!!!!! Hearford gets a shoulder up!


“Citizen Flesher hits the Cement Mixer,” says Cyclone Comet, “and uses a PERFECTLY LEGAL hold to gain a near-fall on Judge William Hearford. He’s using pure wrestling to gain the edge back, whereas Citizen Hearford is using pure bullshit.”


“You’re lucky this is pay-per-view,” says Riley. “If you said that on cable, your wallet would be a little lighter.”


“As light as your loafers?”


Riley sighs. “Comet, I’m wearing wingtips.”


“And I don’t carry a wallet. What’s your point?”


Once again, Hearford rolls toward the chin wrench, and Flesher obligingly allows him to belly out while tightening the front headlock once again. This time, Hearford stays on the mat and tries to back out of the hold, avoiding the Cement Job that caught him earlier. Flesher sees the challenger extending himself and comes up to his feet, pulling Hearford even further out of good position. He fakes another Cement Mixer, but Hearford pulls away! Flesher follows him back, nailing him in the head with a vicious knee strike! The crowd applauds as Hearford gets his due.


“Now, you’re going to tell me this is any fairer than a perfectly good camel clutch? Don’t get me wrong, Comet, but if you’re going to whine about Judge Mental using something as innocent as a camel clutch, you have to object to this.”


“And why would that be, Citizen Riley? Because it’s a legitimate, fair striking attack?”


“Bullshit it is!”


“Watch it. If you say that on cable, your loafers will get a little lighter,” he says mockingly. “… theoretically, anyway.”


Flesher moves in to throw another knee strike, but Hearford circles out a bit to avoid it. With Flesher’s body overextended, Hearford throws his free arm hard into Flesher’s crotch, hitting him with the low blow to end all low blows! Flesher falls backwards, curling up around his groin, but Mark Hebner simply shrugs and asks Hearford if he used a low blow. Hearford callously shakes his head, and Hebner has no other course of action than to let the match continue.


“Beautiful Greco-Roman-style escape!” beams Bobby Riley. “This is really turning into a battle.”


“Robert, you’re being ludicrous. And with that in mind, I’d like to remind everyone that this SWF pay-per-view is sponsored by Dell Computers, and the commentary is brought to you by PepsiMAX!”


Hearford stands up in the center of the ring, lifting Flesher to his feet in a loose front facelock. He tightens the grip and arches backward quickly, hitting Flesher with a snap suplex that sends him almost to the edge of the ring! Flesher lands hard, the wind obviously knocked out of him. Hearford rolls over, covering him for

















NO!!!!!!! Flesher gets a shoulder up and rolls away from the Judge, toward the ropes. Hearford, obviously seeing that coming, kicks his leg up and hooks it over Flesher’s left hip as he rolls away. Once again, he mounts Flesher and locks on the body scissors! The fans begin booing at the inevitable reapplication of Hearford’s deadly doushime sleeper! Flesher bends his body over, accepting that he’s given up the body scissors but fighting to keep Hearford from locking on the sleeper! Hearford follows him for a few seconds, but quickly realizes it’s a lost cause. He settles for simply tightening his vise grip on Flesher’s torso while reaching out and grabbing the bottom rope. Knowing that Hearford grabbed the ropes earlier on the abdominal stretch, Hebner immediately looks to Hearford and sees that he has the ropes. Hearford shouts, “Count it!” and so Hebner obligingly counts.











Hearford takes his time releasing the hold, and Flesher rolls away holding his ribs. He crawls to the nearest corner, using the turnbuckles to pull himself to his feet. Hearford, still fresh, follows him over. Flesher throws a stiff elbow backwards, though, catching him by surprise! He feels Hearford reeling backward and, acting mostly on instinct, spins around and nails him in the jaw with a shotei! With the Judge sufficiently stunned, Flesher drops to the mat and snags his knee for a single-leg takedown! Hearford sprawls backwards, breaking Flesher’s grip on the hold and locking on a front headlock just like the one Flesher used for a series of near-falls earlier in the match!


“Now this is smart wrestling,” says Bobby Riley as Hearford arches his hips, constricting Flesher’s airway. “He’s got a nice, tight headlock, and he’s no doubt going to get the pin with it… something Flesher didn’t have the killer instinct to do. I love Taamo…”




Riley glares. “I love him, but he’s just not fighting the way he needs to in this match. Hearford’s making him his little bitch.”


Flesher pulls back, relieving some of the pressure on his neck by creating space between himself and Hearford. The Judge tries to follow him back, but gets caught by surprise when Flesher pushes forward at the same time and ducks under one arm, standing up with Hearford’s tricep pinned between his neck and shoulder! He reaches up, throwing his hand around Hearford’s head and locking up a head and arm hold! From there, he arches backwards with a loud grunt and tosses Hearford onto the top of his head with a head and arm suplex! Hearford rolls over, flat on his back… but Flesher can’t make the cover! He screams as he lands on the mat, holding his ribs!


“Tough break for Citizen Flesher,” sighs Comet. “All the patently, flagrantly, blatantly and otherwisely illegal moves performed by William Hearford are catching up to the World Champion, and when he executes a technically perfect maneuver like that head and arm suplex, he is left unable to capitalize.”


“He’s just not well-conditioned,” says Riley disappointedly. “Hearford’s an old man and is in much better shape than Flesher. How sad is that? My Tommy’s letting me down today.”


After a moment, Flesher rolls over, wincing and still holding his ribs. He covers Hearford for






But the long recovery time he allowed the jurist to take, combined with Flesher’s neglecting to hook the leg, keep him from even getting two.


“See, Hearford’s able to kick out of a sickening move like that,” adds Riley. “Flesher just isn’t doing what it takes to keep him down.”


Flesher gets to his knees, looking at Hearford. His eyes are blank, his gaze at the mat.


“Look at this,” says Comet. “Flesher knows that he’s the better man out there, but William Hearford’s constant breaches of ethics aren’t letting him get the win. Robert, this is wrong! I hereby decree that we strip Hearford of his Justice moniker. From here on out, we shall refer to him only as Hamsteak!”


"I'd tend to envision him more as a Polish sausage, myself," Riley retorts, a bit too quickly.


Flesher starts back up to his feet. Sighing, he seems to feel defeated already. He grabs Hearford by the head and pulls him back to his feet. Halfheartedly, he drops to his knees and goes for a single-leg takedown, and the fans boo the lack of effort. Hearford effortlessly yanks him to his feet, and…



















THR- NO!!!!!!!!! HEARFORD BARELY KICKS OUT! Flesher hops to his feet with a smirk and watches the confused Hearford try to figure out what just happened! The fans applaud Flesher’s intelligent setup as he drops down and attacks Hearford’s leg again, this time spinning all the way around and grabbing him with a schoolboy rollup!

















THR- NO!!!!!!!!!


Hearford rolls through to his stomach, but the fans continue their applause! Flesher stays on Hearford, rotating around and jumping onto his back before he can find his bearings to counter anything! Flesher mounts his back, looking for a camel clutch. Hearford lunges forward, trying to avoid getting caught in a submission hold… and walking right into Flesher’s plan! Flesher shoves the Judge’s head down and rolls forward, executing a perfect Gedo clutch for

















THRE- KICKOUT!!!!!!!!! Hearford, obviously disoriented, kicks out and stands up, but Flesher dives in behind him and locks his hands around the challenger’s waist! He pushes Hearford forward, bouncing his chest off the ropes, and uses the momentum to roll backwards in a reverse rollup! Hearford tries to grab the top rope, but can’t keep his grip on it long enough to avoid being rolled up!





















THREE- NO!!!! Hearford grabs a handful of Flesher’s singlet and rolls backwards, coming up on top of Flesher in a continuation of the hold!





















THREE- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Flesher rolls out just in time, and Hearford gets away with yet another breach of the rules!


“Citizen Flesher fakes a leg shot and draws William Hearford into a series of near-fall attempts,” says Comet, “only to have the Judge break the rules once again! Flesher, it seems, is trying to win this match on his own, without any bending of the rules.”


“That’s ridiculous. Why let someone who’s more gifted win the match? Cheating is a gift man gives himself!”


“And Flesher is showing technique so superior that he doesn’t have to rely on that gift,” replies Comet. “He’s showing true skill and, dare I say, Justice!”


“Oh, get off it.”


Flesher, obviously disappointed, drops onto Hearford and locks a tight overhook grip on his left shoulder. Hearford winces, remembering the wristlock and hammerlock that Flesher started the match with, but throws his other arm under the hook as well and forces the arm up to open up space for a duck under! Flesher tries to counter, but Hearford is behind him in the blink of an eye! Hearford locks his hands around Flesher’s waist, then quickly arched back with a German suplex! The Judge lowers his grip while the Champion is in the air, letting him slide out and take more of the impact on his sore ribs. Flesher lands hard, screaming out in pain as he does. Hearford opts not to hold him for the pin, though, and rolls through. He waits for Flesher to start to his feet. Once Tom gets up, Hearford is ready and waiting to throw his arms around the World Champion and arch back, throwing him hard to the mat with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex! Once again, Flesher hits the mat hard. This time, though, Hearford covers him, and Mark Hebner counts






















THR- NO!!!!!!! Flesher gets a shoulder off the mat just in time to keep the World Title around his waist, at least for a few more minutes. Flesher rolls to his stomach, not sure where he wants to be but knowing it isn’t on his back. The Judge, however, does know where he wants Flesher. He grabs the Champion and pulls him into a standing head scissors. Then, with Flesher trapped, he reaches under his chest and crosses his arms across his stomach, setting up his deadly straitjacket powerbomb.


“This is it, friends,” says Bobby Riley, sounding more excited than he should. “Judge Mental is about to impose the harshest sentence he has. He’s about to subject Tom Flesher to Capital Punishment! The Superior One’s ribs just can’t take that kind of impact. I think tonight is the night we see the passing of the torch!”


Hearford jerks upward, but can’t get Flesher off the mat! Flesher takes a knee, trying to make himself heavier. As Hearford struggles to lift him, Flesher sags and sandbags to keep himself on the mat, all the while straining to break the straitjacket grip on his torso! He finally succeeds in freeing his hands, only to have Hearford stiffly elbow him in the ribs and send him down to the mat!


“Well, he didn’t hit the move,” says Riley with disappointment, “but at least he hurt Flesher pretty badly.”


“What a great attitude,” says Comet dryly. “You’re a role model for all of us.”


Flesher starts crawling toward the ropes, but Hearford heads him off by jumping onto him, stopping his progress as well as slamming into his ribs and back once again. Flesher cries out, clearly not taking the pain well. Hearford, closer to the ropes than he’d like but still relatively safe, lifts Flesher’s head up and snakes an arm around his neck, locking on a sleeper hold! The fans boo, and some, in spite of their attitudes about Flesher, begin cheering and chanting for him to break the hold! Judge Mental simply snickers and rolls to the side, locking on the body scissors that make his doushime sleeper the deadly hold it is! Flesher squirms, fights, and tries desperately to break out!


“Hearford’s such a ring general!” says Riley. “He never goes anywhere without a plan and a backup! He’s been grinding on Flesher the whole night, and even though he couldn’t hit the move he planned on, he’s got another hold in his bag of tricks! This is just incredible!”


“And yet, Flesher isn’t submitting!” says Comet. “He’s showing true resilience and fortitude, just as you said!”


“I wouldn’t have said that,” sneers Riley. “That’s just dumb.”


Flesher continues struggling, refusing to give up despite the danger he’s in! He fights, rolling toward the ropes! He slides to the side, pulling Hearford’s 242 pounds with him, exhausting himself… but each second, he gets closer to the ropes! After a few moments, he’s within inches! Hearford pulls him to the side, trying to drag him back! He tightens the body scissors, squeezing the life out of Flesher… but Flesher still reaches out and locks his hands firmly around the bottom rope! Mark Hebner immediately orders Hearford to break the hold, and Flesher hangs on for dear life!










The Judge grudgingly breaks the hold, standing up and waiting for Flesher to get up. Flesher does stand for a moment, but quickly falls back to the mat as he tries to walk to the center!


“Dear god, it looks like he fainted!” says Cyclone Comet.


“Yeah,” snickers Riley, “a sleeper like that’ll do that to you.”


Mark Hebner drops to one knee to check on Flesher, and the Judge, smirking, follows him down. He starts shouting trash talk at Flesher, but before he knows what hit him….






















THREE – NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hearford just BARELY kicks out of the flash small package that Flesher caught him with!


“He was playing possum!” shouts Riley. “That dirty son of a bitch was playing possum! And you call William Hearford a cheater!”


“There’s nothing illegal about that,” says Cyclone Comet. “In fact, it’s smart wrestling. Why show your opponent a real injury when you can fake one and bait him into a pin? Flesher’s a pure wrestler through and through! He’s using his wrestling tactics to put William Hearford on his back, and he’s doing a damn good job of it! Soon, his method will find favor with the Tides of JUSTICE~!”


“Yeah, well, Justice is about to kick his ass into next week!”


“I believe you’re referring to Hamsteak?”


Flesher dives onto Hearford, locking on the front headlock on which he’s been relying throughout the match.


“Jesus,” mutters Riley, “doesn’t he know any other moves?”


“And what’s wrong with dancing with the girl you brought?” says Comet. “Of course, not that you know anything about that.”


“And what are you implying?”


“Well, you’re not a very good dancer.”


Flesher tightens the headlock, grabbing Hearford by the sore left shoulder and throwing in a powerful underhook. The Judge’s shoulder twinges as Flesher lets the adrenaline course through his veins and tightens the underhook, then wrenches Hearford’s chin to the side. He steps in, cocking his hip and quickly falling away! Hearford soars through the air and over Flesher’s hip, until he hits the mat hard on his back and Flesher lands on top of him! Flesher wrenches the chin even harder, and as the pressure starts to fatigue the Judge’s muscles, Mark Hebner counts






















KICKOUT!!!!!!! Hearford just barely manages to get a shoulder up and avoid being pinned with the flying Cement Drop. Flesher slides away and stands up, carefully positioning himself behind the Judge. He seems excited, almost to the point of sloppiness, but still holds himself carefully until Hearford sits up. Flesher takes a quick step forward and swings his trail foot in hard, slamming it into Hearford’s spine! William screams out loud as Flesher continues throwing a series of stiff kicks to his spine, kicking over and over and over! Hearford continues bracing, until Flesher finally stops kicking for a few seconds. When Hearford loosens up, Flesher grabs his left arm and yanks it out, then steps between his splayed legs! The crowd, simply put, explodes!


“HELD WITHOUT BAIL!” shouts Cyclone Comet! “All he has to do is lock on the reverse facelock, and we will truly see Justice In Action~!”

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Flesher, as if he was reading Comet’s mind, throws a stiff right arm to the side of Hearford’s face, to try to lock on the dragon sleeper and finish the deadly hold borrowed from its victim. Hearford, however, slips the blow by sliding his head out of the way. He spins out to the right, rolling away from the leg Flesher is using to brace his thigh and using the left armbar as his pivot point. Flesher steps back, expecting the Judge to shoot a low single-leg takedown. Hearford, however, has other ideas, and he stands up before yanking Flesher’s arm toward him and nailing him with an absolutely sickening lariat! Flesher hits the mat hard, and Hearford looks down on him. Rather than cover him, though, the Judge decides there’s a better way to end the match.


He grabs Flesher by the legs, hooks them under his arms and starts to roll him to his stomach.


“And here’s what we’ve been waiting for,” says Bobby Riley, obviously forgetting that up until an hour ago, he was actively rooting for Flesher. “Judge William Hearford is going to lock on one of his Boston crabs, and this match is going to be over! Flesher doesn’t submit, but he’s going to HAVE to tonight! He can’t take a crab from the master of the hold!”


“Yes, Citizen Hearford may be the master of crabs, but Tom Flesher has shown such tremendous ability tonight!” says Cyclone Comet. “I can’t help but expect him to break this one!”


“You also expected your martial arts series to go over well,” sneers Riley, “and then you invited Ray Jay Johnson to play the supervillain. I don’t think your book holds much water.”


Flesher fights, refusing to roll over into the Boston crab. He scoots along the mat, trying to get to the side of the ring and grab the ropes. Hearford, however, simply shakes his neck out and takes advantage of his relatively unharmed upper body. He forces all of Flesher’s weight onto his upper back and ribs, then turns him hard! Flesher tries with all his strength to fight the turn, relying on his iron will even when his body fails him.


Unfortunately, will isn’t enough.


Judge William Hearford turns Tom Flesher over onto his stomach and steps back as far as he can, folding Flesher in half with a sickeningly high-angle Boston crab!


“That’s right,” says Riley smugly. “Just step back, bend Flesher the wrong way and take the World Title home with you.”


“He’s going to have a hard time doing that, Robert, if Flesher can make it to the ropes!”


Sure enough, Flesher is trying to crawl to the side of the ring and reach for the ropes. Hearford tries to walk back to the center of the ring, but Flesher holds on tight to the mat! He forces his chest and hips to the mat, and even as Hearford fights valiantly to get him away from the ropes, Flesher is able to make progress! He moves a few inches at a time, getting closer and closer to the ropes. Hearford manages to take him a few steps back toward the center, but Flesher’s fighting spirit helps him dig down and use his superior upper body strength to pull himself toward the ropes again! He lunges the last few inches, and finally…



GRABS THE BOTTOM ROPE! The fans go wild!


Mark Hebner administers the five-count yet again, and once again Hearford holds on to the submission as long as he possibly can.










He breaks the hold, looking very annoyed. Flesher, for his part, stays on the mat to try to catch his breath. The Judge takes a deep breath, regaining his composure, and stomps Flesher stiffly in the back. Flesher yelps, and Hearford pulls him to his feet. Showing the great courtesy known to be common among jurists, Hearford pleasantly introduces Flesher to the nearest turnbuckle face-first! He throws a stiff kick into Flesher’s spine, and then turns the World Champion around so that his back is to the buckles. He throws a lariat into Flesher’s neck, stunning him for a few seconds, and then lifts him off the mat. The fans begin to boo as he sets Flesher on the top turnbuckle, then slowly begins to climb.


“This can’t be good,” murmurs Comet. “Hearford is much fresher than Citizen Flesher, and if he hits this superplex…”


“If he hits this superplex, he gets the World Title he’s worked so hard for, and Flesher gets taught a lesson in ring tactics. I don’t see what’s so bad about that.”


Hearford locks a front facelock on Flesher as he balances on the middle rope, using the significant height difference to his advantage. He starts to arch back, trying to pull Flesher off the top rope and slam him to the mat. Flesher, however, hooks his legs under the top rope and holds on tight! Hearford, frustrated, tries to pull him off again for the superplex, but once again, Flesher stays firmly planted on the top rope! Disgusted, the Judge releases the front facelock… but Flesher quickly grabs him by the head and leg and throws him to the mat with a sickening body slam! Hearford hits the mat hard, the wind knocked out of him. Flesher looks down on him… then stands up on the top rope.


“We don’t see Citizen Flesher go to the top rope often,” says Cyclone Comet, “but tonight is one of those nights where you have to pull out all the stops to win! With Hearford laid out on the mat, Flesher needs to take every risk he can to win the match and go home with the World Title!”


Flesher raises his arms into the air, his chest heaving as the adrenaline courses through his body. He knows that he can win this one now... vanquish his stablemate, put him to shame for trying to win by cheating him. No one cheats Tom Flesher. Tom Flesher is better than everyone else in the SWF, and he can outwrestle anyone, even someone who’s cheating the whole match.


He takes a deep breath, then leaps off the top rope. The world seems to move in slow motion as he kicks his legs out, tightening his body into a cannonball position. He falls, his back flat and ready to land hard on the flat body of Judge Mental. He’s ready to nail his diving senton, knock the wind out of the Judge, and pick up the pin.



Unfortunately, Hearford moves.





Comet sighs, disappointed. Flesher lays on the mat, trying to alternately hold his back and ribs. He writhes on the mat, in obvious pain, unable to do anything except convulse. Hearford, still stunned from the bodyslam, sits up and tries to make the cover. It takes him an extra second, however, as he has to sit up and shake off the cobwebs before he can pick up the pin. Flesher, of course, can’t object too much, as he lays on the mat unable to do anything but show the pain he’s in. Finally, Hearford rolls on top of him, covering him for

























NO! Flesher kicks out weakly, barely getting one shoulder off the mat, but getting it off nonetheless! The fans applaud their newfound hero, knowing that an hour ago they hated him… but knowing also that the courage and resilience he’s shown tonight is more than enough to earn their backing.


Flesher sits up, trying to fight his way to his feet. Hearford backs away, still too shaky to dominate Flesher. The two athletes slowly get to their feet. Covered in sweat, the gladiators stare each other down. They’ve been in the ring together for nearly an hour. They’ve pushed each other to their limits… but each man is still standing. Neither one will give up his shot at wrestling’s greatest prize, the SWF World Championship.


Flesher, ready to collapse, pushes into Hearford. The Judge is exhausted, but somehow manages to find the energy to nail Flesher with a lariat! Flesher staggers backward, but Hearford catches him before he gets too far away. He pulls Flesher in, driving a knee to his stomach, and then another into his face! Flesher shoots back up, grabbing his face, and Hearford drives into him for a bear hug!


“Hearford is making the smart move,” says Riley. “He knows that he can beat Flesher on his feet, and he knows he can throw him to his back enough times to crack Flesher’s ribs if he has to! Hearford’s so much better off than Flesher right now, it’s not even funny!”


“And you think the SWF World Champion is going to lay down to a cracked rib after all he’s gone through tonight?” says Comet incredulously. “If Hearford wants to win this match, he’s practically going to have to murder Flesher! And clearly, he wouldn’t do that. It would violate the judges’ code of ethics.”


“See? You argued earlier, and now you’re agreeing with me that he wouldn’t break the rules. Make up your mind, you hypocrite.”


Hearford tightens his body lock, but Flesher tries to back away. As the Judge fights to tighten the hold, Flesher focuses on the sore left shoulder. He throws both his arms under the joint and throws Hearford’s left arm into the air, capitalizing on the injury to duck under! Once again, he stands up, locking on a head and arm hold, and the fans go absolutely crazy!


“He executed this once,” says Comet, “and it nearly spelled the end for Hearford! Now that Flesher has his second wind, this move can end the match for him!”


Tom Flesher locks his hands around Hearford’s head and shoulder, tightening the grip. He starts to arch back, ready to dump the Judge on his head… but Hearford backs away, planting his feet and lowering his hips! Flesher, ordinarily strong as an ox, just can’t fight through his injured ribs hard enough to throw Hearford! The Judge grabs Flesher, threads one arm under his far arm, and slaps on his inverted full-nelson. Palming the World Champion’s face, the challenger sweeps his leg out from under him and slams him to the mat with his reverse-half-nelson STO!


“And there’s your Closing Argument!” says Riley. “Hearford’s made the final statement in this match, and now it’s up to Mark Hebner to render the obvious verdict.”


Hebner drops down to the mat and counts



























- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Flesher’s shoulder comes off the mat as Hebner’s hand is just a hair’s breadth from the canvas! The fans burst into cheers as William Hearford looks like he wants to scream!


“I believe that Citizen Flesher just moved for a rebuttal,” says Comet, sounding absolutely deadpan. “And remember, Robert, the burden of proof is on the challenger.”


“That’s stretching the analogy a bit, don’t you think?”


“Ask me later when I’m in chambers.”


Flesher, barely there mentally, slides away from Hearford. The angry challenger follows him, taking advantage of Flesher’s stunned state by slamming a boot into his face. Flesher falls back to the mat, but Hearford yanks him back to his feet. Once again, he bends the World Champion over and locks him in a standing head scissors. This time, a hush falls over the crowd, as they know Flesher can’t have enough left in him to counter the Capital Punishment power bomb again.


Hearford reaches down, attempting to cross Flesher’s arms over his stomach. Flesher, however, fights with all his strength to keep him from getting the straitjacket tight. He spreads his arms out, emulating the Greco-Roman knuckle lock that started the match. Then, once again calling back the strategy he started the match with, Flesher shakes his head loose and doubles his hands up on Hearford’s left wrist! The fans cheer him on, and he stands up, applying a makeshift double wristlock. Hearford tries to back away, but before he knows what hit him, Flesher executes a perfect arm drag and twist! He jerks the shoulder, making the challenger grimace in pain, and then quickly spins through. He nails Hearford in the pit of the knee with a stiff boot, and the Judge drops to one knee! Flesher tries to force him to the mat, tightening the armbar and stepping between the Judge’s legs!


“Tom Flesher is about to tie William Hearford up in the stretch plum!” bellows Cyclone Comet. “The hold that William Hearford is so jealous of Flesher using is about to end this match!”


“Calm down there, Comet!” says Riley, obviously jittery himself. “Hearford countered it once before! He can do it again! It’s HIS hold, after all!”


Hearford slides away from Flesher once again, gripping Flesher’s left arm with both of his hands. He spins out, just as he did earlier, and comes up to his feet. Once again, Hearford pulls Flesher toward him, looking for a short-arm lariat… but Flesher’s ready for it! He comes at Hearford with his arms extended, grabs him around the chest and bridges back in a perfect arch! He throws William Hearford to the mat with a belly to belly suplex, sending him through the air in a curve so perfect it could be used to calibrate a protractor! Hearford lands hard… and so does Flesher.


“It looks as if Citizen Flesher may have injured his ribs on that suplex,” says Comet. “Of course, a throw that technically excellent would have to take a lot out of both the thrower and the throwing dummy.”


“Are you calling Hearford a dummy?”


“All I’ll say is that if he was sitting on my knee, he would be singing ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt’ while I drank a glass of water.”


“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Comet?!”


“Friend Robert, I fear you don’t catch on very quickly.”


As Flesher catches his breath and starts getting to his feet, he sees his opponent rolling out of the ring. Hearford, apparently needing to catch his breath after the Railgun suplex, lands on the concrete and tries to take a quick time-out. Flesher, of course, doesn’t want him to be able to regain his wind, and besides, the World Champion has the momentum. He stands up, holding his ribs and wincing slightly. He waits for Hearford to stand back up. When the Judge does get back to his feet, Flesher grabs the middle rope and swings out, hitting a baseball slide on Hearford! Instead of dropkicking him, though, Flesher catches him in a head scissors grip! While still laying on the mat, with only his legs extending over the side of the mat Flesher rolls to the side! Hearford, his body following his head, gets thrown head over heels onto the hard concrete, and the fans go wild!


“I love that move,” says Cyclone Comet. “It’s such an interesting juxtaposition… Flesher does practically no work, and the opponent takes a fall as if he’d been thrown harder than any suplex a mortal could execute.”


“Oh, but I’m sure you could suplex harder than that.”


“Of course not, Friend Robert. That sort of impact is reserved for my FALLING STAAAAAAAAAR BOMMMMMMMMB~!”




Flesher slides out of the ring, taking a sizeable breather as he walks on the outside. He lifts the Judge off the concrete and ushers him back into the ring, following him in. Flesher looks at the ring positioning, then decides to spend yet another precious second dragging Hearford to the center to avoid a foot on the ropes. He covers the Judge, hooking the leg for



























NO!!!!!!!! Hearford digs down, somehow finding the strength to kick out!


“He wasted too much time,” says Riley dismissively. “You can’t be the SWF World Champion when you’re that lazy. Flesher obviously doesn’t care about keeping the title. He should just turn his toes up now. He’s a disgrace. He’s disappointed millions of fans tonight.”


“You’re the only one he’s disappointed! Flesher has shown character tonight that I never would have dreamed I’d see from him!”


“Shame he’s going to lose because of it,” snickers Bobby.


Hearford rolls to the side, once again bellying down. Not knowing what else to do, Flesher goes back for one more dance with the girl he brought. He locks on the front headlock one more time, standing up and locking his hands under Hearford’s chin, obviously looking for the Cement Mixer. He tries to tighten the headlock, but before he can arch backwards, Hearford drives shoulder-first into his ribs! Flesher screams, and as the crowd winces collectively, the Judge tightens his arms around his ribcage! With his head still positioned under Flesher’s arm, he arches back, hitting a Northern Lights suplex! The fans cringe, and Hearford rolls over onto his knees. He uses every ounce of strength in his body to pull Flesher up to his feet, then arches back again with a second Northern Lights suplex! Flesher hits the mat hard, wincing. Even as Hearford is almost entirely sapped of energy, he finds the strength to yank Flesher back up to his feet and arch his back once again. He throws Flesher to the mat with a third rolling Northern Lights suplex, prompting the crowd to applaud despite the fact that he’s been nothing short of an asshole through the whole match. He holds his bridge, and Mark Hebner counts




























THREE – NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Flesher gets one shoulder barely off the mat, and Hearford rolls over. He looks at Hebner with disbelief, holding up three fingers. Hebner holds up two, and even as Hearford slaps his hands together three times, Hebner refuses to award him the match!


“SLOW COUNT!” bellows Bobby Riley.


“Oh, come on!” spits Comet. “That count was no slower than any of the other ones we’ve seen through the whole match. Mark Hebner is the SWF’s senior official. Why would you expect him to be anything less than impartial?”


“Because Tom Flesher’s nothing but a snake in the grass! He charms you, and then he turns his back on you! What a son of a bitch!”


Comet rolls his eyes. “Feeling betrayed?”


“YES, and I’ll thank you not to make fun of me!”


Hearford, obviously frustrated, angry, and off his game, stands up. He grabs Flesher by the arm and lifts him to his feet, then whips him hard to the corner! Flesher yelps as he hits the corner at what seems like a hundred miles an hour. He slumps against the buckles, holding himself up using only the ropes. Hearford, in the center of the ring, digs into his tights… and produces the chain!


“NO!” screams Riley. “NO, don’t get yourself disqualified! Jesus Christ, Judge, you’ve come so far!”


With his back turned to the official, who’s more concerned with making sure Flesher can stand, Hearford wraps the chain around his fist. Once he’s prepared, he turns and charges into the corner! As he runs, Flesher opens his eyes and glares at him with a clarity that no one expected from the World Champion. He kicks his boot up, and Hearford runs right into a Yakuza kick! He staggers backwards, and Flesher notices the strange object wrapped around his right hand.


“Oh, no,” sighs Riley. “If Flesher gets disqualified, he keeps the title! That bastard!”


“But… he’s not…” Comet sounds stunned, almost disappointed at the thought that Flesher would turn back after working so hard to earn the fans’ approval.


Flesher grabs Hearford by the arm and tears the chain off his hand. He slaps Hearford, hard, across the face to keep him in one place, and then lifts the chain up to his eye level. The crowd goes quiet. With an evil glint in his eye, Flesher looks up and down, from the top of the chain to the bottom.






Hebner stands at the side, silent, ready to disqualify Flesher.


And then Flesher throws the chain away, to the outside of the ring. The fans go wild.


“I knew it!” beams Comet. “I knew Citizen Flesher wanted more than anything to simply outwrestle Hearford! He won’t stoop to the Judge’s level!”


Riley, for his part, simply seethes.


Flesher throws a shotei at Judge Mental, but the challenger is ready for it and catches him before it hits with a hard forearm smash! The fans immediately quiet down, but begin cheering again as Flesher answers with another stiff shotei to the jaw! He follows it up with another, and then another! The World Champion’s face lights up as he hears the fans cheering, as he knows that he’s about to get the win over his stablemate through nothing but pure wrestling tactics. He truly is superior.


He whips Hearford to the corner and follows him in, nailing a running avalanche that knocks the wind out of him. The fans begin to buzz, knowing what’s coming up. Flesher grabs Hearford by the hips, trying to lift him off the mat… but quickly backs off. He grabs his ribs for a moment, wincing, but moves back in. He knows he can’t let anything stop him, and so he grabs the Judge by the hips again and lifts him off the mat. With a look of pain on his face, he sets his challenger on the top rope, and then begins his ascent to the top rope. The fans’ buzzing reaches a fever pitch.


Comet is silent.


Riley is silent.


Flesher stands on the top rope like George Washington crossing the Delaware. He takes a deep breath, savoring the significance of the moment, and then locks on a front facelock. Looking out at the crowd, the smallest smile starts to spread across his face. He tightens the front facelock, and starts to lift Hearford off the ropes.



Unfortunately, his ribs aren’t quite as happy as he is.



Flesher bends over, wincing, as Bobby Riley smirks, “I knew it. He’s a choker, Comet, plain and simple.”


Hearford, digging down, throws a forearm into Flesher’s ribs, then stands up! Just as Flesher did earlier in the match, the Judge grabs Flesher around the head and thigh, then scoops him up and body slams him from the top rope to the mat! The fans cringe, uttering a collective “ooooooh.” Hearford, rather than take a risk, climbs down off the ropes and grabs Flesher by the head. He lifts Flesher to his feet, and Flesher turns around to face him. He throws a shotei, but Hearford deflects it and nails him with a hard right hand! Flesher staggers away, leaning on the ropes. Hearford follows him over, clobbering him in the back of the head with a forearm! Flesher slumps over, and Hearford grabs him by the singlet. He pulls Flesher toward the center, and steps in, locking one arm around his neck and the other around his head! As he sinks the sleeper hold in, the crowd groans disappointedly. In his one crowning moment, Flesher has been defeated.


“Sleeperhold!” says Bobby Riley! “Judge has been working for the doushime sleeper all night, and now he finally got the sleeper on! Get it to the mat! Come on!”


Flesher staggers toward the ropes as Hearford tries to force him to the mat. He realizes that simply pushing Flesher down won’t work, and so he tries to fall backwards onto the mat to lock on his body scissors. Flesher, however, grabs the top rope and holds himself up! Hearford tries to yank him back down to the mat, but Flesher hooks his elbows under the top rope and holds on as tightly as he can! Finally, Hearford gets back to his feet, opting for a different course of action.


He backs away… but Flesher sprints toward the turnbuckle! The fans gasp as he runs up the cornerpost. He hits the bottom buckle, then the middle one, and then vaults off the top with a picture-perfect backflip! The arena explodes with flashbulbs as Flesher floats through the air, with a dumbfounded Hearford still holding on to the sleeper! The Superior One lands in a tripod bridge, and uses Hearford’s own sleeper hold to pin him to the mat! Hebner counts





































Flesher rolls off Hearford and lays on the mat, smiling. He hears the fans cheering. He hears Funyon making an announcement…


“Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match… and STILL SWF World Champion… TOOOOOOOOOOM FLESHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!”


As the frustrated Hearford rolls out of the ring, his head hanging out of anger and disappointment, Flesher stands up. Mark Hebner hands Flesher the SWF World Championship belt, and Flesher slings it over his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to know how to handle the crowd’s reaction, but he can’t stop it from coming. Hebner raises his arm, and the fans begin to stand. They applaud Flesher, and Flesher just stands in the ring absorbing it.


“Tom Flesher has retained the SWF World Championship tonight,” says Cyclone Comet. “He outwrestled Judge William Hearford even when Hearford insisted on cheating his way to an advantage, over and over.”


“He’s nothing but a bastard,” grumbles Bobby Riley. “Fucking manwhore, willing to sell himself for whatever lets him keep that damn belt.”


“No matter what Citizen Riley thinks, Tom Flesher showed true character and determination tonight, and for it he was rewarded with the SWF’s highest honor. He retained the World Championship on this, the night of the premier show in this business.”


Flesher stands in the ring, holding the SWF World Title belt over his shoulder.


“Your SWF World Champion,” says Comet. “‘The Superior One,’ Tom Flesher.”



SWF Genesis IV - September 28, 2003

© 2003, White Apple Productions. All Rights Reserved.

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation: “Raising Workrate By Typing Faster.”

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Guest Suicide King

Allow me and the rest of CC to give everyone who made this show the EPIC that it is a standing ovation. I have never been prouder of you all than I am right now. This is unquestionably our best show ever. Ever.


Fantastic job everyone. I of course will not ruin anyone's surprises by giving away results right now.


Our next show will be our first ever promo show of my reign. The exact specifics will be up after Raw, but for now you all deserve a break. Great job... just great. I am speechless.

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