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Thoth

SWF Storm January 20th

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With the SWF’s Storm ready to hit the airwaves, the spinning SWF logo flies onto the black screen. However, instead of being followed by the Storm theme, the fans watching the Smarktron and those watching world-wide, are taken backstage to the talent entrance of the arena. Pacing from one end of the loading area to the other, Mark Stevens shouts out orders to a group of Indianapolis’s finest.

 

(Stevens) – I am absolutely serious!! You all have seen the tape from last week, and you know he’s gonna show up here! You know it…I know it. DO NOT…under any circumstances…let Thugg into this arena tonight. HE MAY NOT ENTER!! He is not an employee of this company any more, and only employees of the SWF can enter the building. And please…if you have to use force…please do…in fact, I insist.

 

(Cop 1) – What if he tries…

 

(Stevens) – STOP! I don’t even want to hear that. He’s 7’2”…he’s 400 pounds for crying out loud…it’s not like he can sneak anywhere! Just don’t let him in! Got it?

 

(All Cops) – Yes Sir!

 

(Stevens) – Good.

 

As commissioner Stevens walks out of the frame, leaving the officers to wait for Thugg’s potential arrival, the scene cuts to the arena bowl and the sold-out Conseco Field House crowd. A commotion commences in the upper left area of the crowd, and the camera hurries to it, where it finds HVT walking down the stairs to a huge chorus of boos. He smirks for the camera when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, and then takes his seat in the front row.

 

Fade to commercial.

Edited by Thoth

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SWF Storm is coming on the air in three.

 

Two.

 

One.

 

*PIIISHHHHHHHEW! BOOM!*

 

"This is..."

 

*PIIISHHHHHHHEW! BOOM!*

 

"S..W..F..."

 

*PIPIPIPISHSHSHSHEWEWEW! BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOOOOM!*

 

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOORM!"

 

As the pyrotechnics explode around the entranceway and the arena as a whole, the generic rock music that is SWF Storm's theme rips from the speakers! It's soon drowned out by the roars of the fans, who pack the arena from ringside to rafters, as pumped up as anything else! As the cameras scan the crowd, they pick up the usual plethora of signs, from generic "Smark!" signs to ones portraying several superstars. From "Watch Va'aiga Explode!" to "The SWF Needs A Superior One!" to "Todd Praise the Unnamed!", the signs are out in force. As the cameras begin their usual spiralling pirouette down to the announce table, one thoughtful fan has the sign to end all signs - a huge banner portraying The Unholy Trinity, The Unnamed, Charlie "Grappler" Matthews and the House of Todd. And then we're at the announce table with everyone's favourite pair of announcers!

 

"Hail, citizens and fans! I'm CYCLOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!" roars the superhero.

 

"And I'm the guy making sure you all know Comet is as biased as Mark Stevens, Bobby Riley!" calls his co-announcer.

 

"Our Commissioner is not biased at all, Robert."

 

"Oh please. If his recent activities are anything to go by..."

 

"He's been completely fair to everyone, and it's only by others' notorious dealings our beloved Commissioner is made to look bad..."

 

"NO!

NO!

NOTORIOUS!"

 

"Speaking of Notorious dealings..." Riley snickers.

 

"This is just what we need." Comet groans.

 

"Synthetic solution

Synthetic, I'll become

Synthetic, if it makes this go away..."

 

As the sound of Duran Duran's "Notorious" fades away into the heavier riffs of Spineshank's "Synthetic", the curtain is swept aside to reveal none other than John Duran! The fans let the Notorious One have it with a round of boos as he strides down the ramp. The Hardcore Gamers Championship is slung over his shoulder, and he sneers at the fans, pointing and yelling at those who lean over the barricade to try and get him. In the ring, Funyon lifts his microphone.

 

"Representing The Unnamed, please welcome John Duraaaaaaaaaaan!"

 

The crowd continues throwing boos down at the ring as the Notorious One slides under the bottom rope before rising to his full height. Lifting his arms to mock the crowd for a moment, Duran then snatches Funyon's microphone and shoos the announcer out of the ring. Looking at the fans, John sneers again before bringing the microphone to his lips.

 

"Now all of you, SHUT UP!" he roars. This of course has about as much effect as a mosquito biting an elephant, so the Notorious One is forced to raise his voice to be heard.

 

"Before I get to my main point, I wanted to send a message to Charlie Matthews, just in case he doesn't get it: Charlie, I don't care what match you have at what PPV. If you ever lay a hand on Matheson again, I will make sure to finally finish what I started in the SJL once and for all."

 

The crowd doesn't like Duran's threatening of the #1 contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Title, but the look on Duran's face speaks "deal with it," as the crowd continues to boo.

 

"Now, you see this title on my shoulder? You see it!? I won this title from a complete fucking nutjob! A nutjob that none of you will ever see challenge me again! And do you know why? Because..."

 

But before the Notorious One can continue, the crowd cuts him off.

 

"DUR-AN'S A PUSSY!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"DUR-AN'S A PUSSY!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"DUR-AN'S A PUSSY!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

 

"Well, the fans certainly seem to hold firm to their beliefs, Robert." Comet chuckles.

 

"They're mocking one of the most nasty men in the federation, Comet. Those poor peons won't know what hit them if they make John Duran mad..."

 

In the ring, the Notorious One almost literally has a vein bulging in his forehead as he glares at the fans, but he takes a breath and keeps himself from simply yelling at the fans. Narrowing his eyes, he speaks with a cold and ominous tone.

 

"Because I refuse to wrestle someone who is quite clearly a LUNATIC! A lunatic who's not coming back to the SWF ever again! I even have his goddamn letter from Mark to prove it! So just to piss me off, our dear Commissioner books me in a match not against the nutjob, but against someone almost as insane! The so-called 'Black Angel' Aecas!"

 

The crowd lets out a cheer for one of their favourite wrestlers, but their cheering turns to boos as in the ring, John Duran continues his tirade.

 

"I don't care if he's nearly as bad as the fucking nutcase who I beat fair and square, I don't care if he talks to pot plants! He may think he's nasty stuff, but from what I've seen, Aecas is going to be a cakewalk! And after this, never again! I will never again wrestle anyone who is clearly a motherfucking luna..."

 

And then, all the lights dim. Duran hesitates, eyes scanning the arena. There's no preamble, no soft and dramatic build up. The low buzzing sound of an alarm begins to go off, coupled with the bright red word - [RELEASED] flashing on the Smarktron.

 

I stand firm in my solidarity!

The path I walk (the path I walk)

I walk in with my own resolve...

 

And the lights come up, and Killswitch Engage's "When Darkness Falls" rips into the chorus as black and white pyrotechnics explode from the ramp!

 

When darkness falls! (When darkness falls)

We are reborn!

A dream since the fall of man!

We are reborn...

 

The fans go absolutely ballistic, and the surprised expression on the face of the Notorious One is clearly something to be remembered. As the haze of black and white pyrotechnics clears from the ramp, a figure steps into view, one that's seven foot two. With his white trenchcoat trailing behind him and a microphone in his hand, Terrence "Janus" Bailey tosses perfectly split black-and-white hair from his face. And then he lifts the microphone to his lips.

 

"I don't suppose you were talking about me, were you John?" the Australian-accented, softly ominous voice of the Anti-Heel Machine rumbles.

 

"Who else would I talk about?" Duran sneers. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway? You're suspended!"

 

"I've been cleared to wrestle." the Anti-Heel Machine replies, and as the crowd bursts into cheers, the sneer drops from the face of the Notorious One. In fact, he looks downright pissed.

 

"Now who in the hell authorises that a clearly certifable MANIAC like yourself can come and wrestle? You nearly killed me in this ring! You nearly murdered Va'aiga back at the Fight Before Christmas! And don't get me started on Mark's officiating stuff, you psychotic asshole!"

 

Duran isn't the only one who looks infuriated. The fans begin booing the Notorious One as the calm smile drops from Terrence's face as if it were slapped off. That former smile is soon replaced with a scowl as, hand tightening around the microphone, the Anti-Heel Machine begins to stalk down the ramp.

 

"And it seems we may not have to wait longer for Citizen Bailey to get his title back from Citizen Duran, Robert!"

 

"I can't believe this!" the ambigiously gay one sputters. "Why the hell would such a psycho be cleared to wrestle!"

 

"Maybe he's sane again, Robert."

 

"Hah! As if!" Riley sneers.

 

"Yeah! That's it! Come on, big guy! Come and try and kill me again!" Duran taunts from the ring.

 

Pausing on the ramp however, the Anti-Heel Machine stops in his tracks and tilts his head slightly to the side, as if thinking. Hands on his trenchcoat, prepared to toss it aside and charge into the ring, Terrence "Janus" Bailey stands silently for a moment. And then, taking a deep breath, he shakes his head and takes a step back, standing on the ramp and lifting his microphone.

 

"Nice try, John. But you can't blind me like Ejiro once did. I'm not naieve, I'm not stupid, and I'm not about to fall for your goads to try and get me suspended again."

 

"Who says you need to be stupid?" the Notorious One shoots back. "You know it's in there, Terrence. You know you have the capability to be a psychopath. So why not let it out? I know you want revenge for losing your title belt. I know your goddamn split personality wants to tear me apart, so let him out!"

 

Shuddering and taking a deep breath, Terrence narrows his eyes and stares up at the ring, where the mocking form of John Duran stands. As he opens his mouth to speak, however...

 

**CRACK!!**

 

The crowd quite simply EXPLODES!

 

Go home! You’re done!

Hit the showers! Thanks for the runs, you bum!

You got rocked! So just beat it!

You got the hook, GO HOME!

 

As Blessid Union of Souls' "Go Home" rips out of the speakers, the fans rise to their feet and let out a resounding cheer! The expression on John Duran's face is something akin a bored surprise, while Terrence turns around on the ramp with a slightly raised eyebrow at the figure who strides out from behind the curtain.

 

"And here, once again, is Mark Stevens to completely bias things towards the nutjob," Riley sighs.

 

"Will you stop with that, Robert?" Comet mutters annoyedly.

 

Standing on the stage, the baseball-cap wearing Commissioner of the SWF, "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens, regards the two superstars with a completely level face. But he doesn't address Terrence, oh no, his words are for the Notorious One in the ring.

 

"I don't appreciate your very clear goading of a just-returned superstar, John. Terrence has worked through his problems, and he's wrestling whether you like it or not."

 

The Notorious One's signature smirk slides back onto his face as he lifts the microphone, voice dripping venom as he address not just the Commissioner, but the Anti-Heel Machine as well.

 

"It's not 'Terrence' I'm thinking about, Mark. It's that fucking psychopath Janus. You know, the psychopath who damn near killed your entire staff of referees?"

 

"Well, he apologised for that an..." Mark begins.

 

"APOLOGISED!?" Duran almost explodes on the spot. "He can just apologise for that and get away with it, but if I or anyone else in the Unnamed had done what he did, we'd be suspended for MONTHS!"

 

The crowd boos Duran's statement, and all eyes in the arena almost literally swivel to look at the Commissioner of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation. Mark Stevens frowns as he looks towards the ring again, then after a pause, lifts his own microphone again.

 

"He would have been suspended for months, John. But I got a call from his psychiatrist, one Doctor Frood, who faxed me several pages of information regarding Terrence."

 

This brings a surprised look to the Anti-Heel Machine's face. He turns around and steps up the ramp at a fast trot, and the crowd holds its breath as he stops and looks down at Stevens. The Commissioner looks up at Terrence impassively, and the big man leans down and asks Mark something. Lowering his microphone, Mark answers the seven footer's question, and the Anti-Heel Machine nods before murmuring something else. Mark contemplates and nods his head - and the seven footer smiles.

 

"Well isn't that pretty." Duran sneers. "Mark got 'information' from Terrence's so called 'psychiatrist', and now I bet he's just telling the big guy that it's all a ruse to get him wrestling again. This is why Matheson and the Unnamed are so easily discriminated against, when the real dangers are..."

 

"Duran...SHUT UP!" Stevens yells at the ring, and the volume of his voice stuns the Notorious One into silence. Clearly having being waiting for this moment, the SWF Commissioner continues his tirade.

 

"I'm sick and tired of hearing you run your mouth about that! All you need to know is that thanks to his psychiatrist, Terrence is once more cleared to wrestle, and there's not a thing you can do about it! And he's made it clear to me, that Hardcore Gamers Championship or not..."

 

Mark takes a breath.

 

"...he wants YOUR ASS in the ring at FROM THE FIRE! And I for one am inclined to give it to him, and THAT my friend..."

 

The crowd takes up Steven's catchphrase, the arena raining it down on Duran from all angles.

 

"...Is a damn promise!"

 

As Blessid Union of Souls' "Go Home" hits the speakers again and Mark makes his exit, the Anti-Heel Machine stands alone on the ramp, staring down at the ring. The Notorious One glowers back at him, and the camera watches both men before panning back towards Terrence and the growing smile on his face. And then the cameras slowly fade out to commercial...

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“We’re back!” Riley shouts out as the cameras switch back to the buzzing arena, fresh from the surprises already tonight. “And we’ve got a special guest commentator with us as well, ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins!” Comet adds in. “It’s great to be here with the both of you.” Spike responds. “Quiet, Juniah.” Riley snaps at him. “The first match of the night on this exiting Edition of Storm will feature Insane Luchador, who is coming off of a depressing loss at the hands of Sacred for the SWF USJL Title on Smarkdown, and Jacob Helmsley, who teamed with Spike on Smarkdown, lost the number one contendership match to the Tag Team titles.” Comet reports. “Meh… minor setback. Jake and I will get back into that picture very soon… I can promise you that.” Spike responds. “Well, it seemed like your ‘Partner’ didn’t want anything to do with you.” Riley points out. “It seemed like that after the match, but I know Jake… and Gold is the only thing keeping him going in this federation.” Spike answers. “Can’t argue with that I guess.” Riley replies.

 

From the PA system, “Meaning of Life” by Disturbed starts up, brining a loud and quite ovasive round of boos from the fans. From the back of the stage emerges Jacob Helmsley, with the same emotionless glare on his face as always. Traveling down the ramp Jacob absolutely ignores the taunts and fingers directed at him from the fans at ringside. One such fan though, displaying a sign reading “JACOB FEARS HHH” grabs the attention of Helmsley. With a vengeful glare Jacob forcefully snatches the sign from the man’s grip and in one swift motion, tears the sign lengthwise and tosses both pieces onto the entranceway. The sign’s former owner absolutely explodes, desperately trying to jump the barrier to attack Jacob, but the combined force of the fans around him and the SWF Security keeps the man on his side of the barrier. Meanwhile Jacob just continues to walk on, with the slight hint of a grin in his otherwise emotionless expression.

 

“Ladies and Gentleman… the following match is scheduled for one fall… Introducing first, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada he is Jacob HELMSLEY!” Funyon bellows out as the crowds react negatively to the loner as he merely slides into the ring and brandishes the lead pipe that has made him famous. “What a guy.” Riley states. “Taking after the Suicide King himself… this boy has some real talent.” Riley continues. “He’s a jerk is what he is.” Comet replies. “Both of you are right.” Spike states, taking the low road. “Coward.” Riley sneers.

 

“The Gauntlet” kicks up over the PA system, replacing Jacob’s theme causing the boos and jeers of the crowd to quickly change into cheers, but after about thirty seconds though, there is no sign on Insane Luchador. “Well? Where is this dude?” Riley asks. “Beats me, Riley.” Comet simply states. After about a minute an SWF official appears from the back and quickly bolts down to the ring, handing Funyon a piece of paper, and whispering something into his ear. “Uh… Ladies and Gentleman… due to complications beyond our control, Insane Luchador has been unavoidably detained and will not be able to participate in this following match.” Funyon reads. “So as a result of a count out, the winner of this match… Jacob Helmsley.” He plainly states. Jacob though starts to pace around the ring, visibly pissed off at the result of the match, while the crouds around the arena begin to echo out in boos at the fact that they’re not going to see a match.

 

“What the hell? That’s it?” Spike asks. “Yep… now leave.” Riley replies coldly. “Citizen Helmsley looks very angry at the fact that he won’t be able to fight someone tonight…” Comet points out as Spike drops the headset and begins to leave the announcer’s table. Passing by the ring, Jacob stops short just in front of Spike and begins to verbally bash Hollywood, telling him to leave him the hell alone and things of that nature. Spike Jenkins merely ignores the rants of his former Partner and walks up the ramp to the back. “Well folks, stick around, because we know for a fact that we’re going to have a great match for you next on Storm.” Riley states as the cameras go black.

Edited by Thoth

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“CRACK!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

RAAAAA!!

 

 

The crowd roars to life as “Go Home” by Blessed Union Souls hits the arena speakers. Without so much as a hesitation, the SWF Commissioner, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens steps through the curtain and onto the stage.

 

(Comet) – Welcome back good citizens…SWF Storm…coming to you live from Indianapolis! It looks like we’re gonna be joined by none other than the Commissioner himself…”Grand Slam” Mark Stevens!

 

(Riley) – What’s he coming down here for?

 

(Funyon) – Ladies and gentlement…please welcome the Commissioner of the SWF…”GRAND SLAM” MARK STEEEEEEVEEEENNNNNNSS!

 

(Comet) – I bet dollars to doughnuts that he’s here to get rid of Thugg, who’s been sitting at ringside since we started the show.

 

Complete with tie and baseball cap, Stevens climbs the metal stairs and enters the ring, all the while looking to his left and staring a hole into HVT sitting in the first row. As he steps through the ropes, his music fades out and he is handed a microphone.

 

(Stevens) – What in the sam hell do you think you’re doing here?!?

 

Stevens is standing against the left side ropes, staring directly out at Thugg, who sits there, with his large frame barely comfortable in the tiny folding chair. Thugg simply smirks at Mark, happy with his cleverness.

 

(Stevens) – I bet you think you’re smart don’t you? You think you’re hot shit? Well, I got news for you…you’re not!

 

Thugg stands up and leans over the railing to a ring attendant, saying something inaudible to her. She immediately looks up at the Heavy Hitter for some sort of approval…

 

(Stevens) – Yeah…give him a mic. What do you have to say for yourself?

 

After being handed the microphone, Thugg sits back down in his chair and leans back.

 

(HVT) – Yo!! What up Mark?!?

 

(Stevens) – Don’t “What up Mark” me…what the hell are you doing here?!? I fired your ass two weeks ago!

 

(HVT) – I told you that you couldn’t get rid of me that easily, didn’t I?

 

(Stevens) – You know what…that’s fine. I’ve got 10 officers from the Indianapolis police department ready to escort you out of the building…

 

RAAAAA!!

 

(HVT) – Yo…slow down dogg. No need to get dap poe-poe in dis. All I’m sayin’ is…can’t a brotha watch some good, ol’ fashioned wrestlin’ without getting’ hassled by da man?!?

 

(Stevens) – Don’t give me that crap Thugg! I know you…I know you too well. You’re not here to watch wrestling…you’re here to cause chaos! You’re always here to cause chaos…that’s why I fired you. I’m not letting it happen on my watch…not as long as I’m commissioner of this federation.

 

(HVT) – Yeah…well…what ya gonna do big commish?!? You can’t do a mutha fuckin’ thing…cause I bought a fuckin’ ticket! And that means that I can sit my ass right here in this chair, and there ain’t a fuckin’ thing you can do about it cuz.

 

There’s a long silence as Mark realizes that Thugg is right…this time. As the silence draws uncomfortably on, the fans let out a resounding “Booo,” as they, too, realize that Mark is beat.

 

(HVT) – Yeah…just like I thought. Now take your ass to the back…sit at your desk…and enjoy the show…like I am.

 

(Stevens) – Thugg…I swear to god…if you try anything…and I mean anything…I’ll be all over your ass so fast that…

 

(HVT) – What? What you gonna do Mark?? Huh? You gonna fire me? Oh…wait…you already did that? You gonna take away the one thing I actually care about in this world? Oh…that’s right…I don’t give a fuck ‘bout nothin’. I don’t give a fuck ‘bout you…I don’t give a fuck ‘bout this fed…and I sure as hell don’t give a fuck ‘bout any of these goddamn people. So…what exactly is you gonna do to me, huh?

 

Another long pause…

 

(HVT) – Yeah…whateva yo. You ain’t got shit, and you know it. So, why don’t you put your fuckin’ tail between your legs and take yo ass to the back.

 

(Stevens) – Alright Thugg…alright. I’m leaving. But remember…I’m watching tonight. I’ll be watching very closely. Don’t you even think about stepping out of line…

 

(HVT) – Yeah…whateva.

 

(Stevens) – You can shrug me off all you want…but if you even think about doing anything, I’ll be the all over you. And that…my large black friend…is a damn promise!

 

 

With the fans rather confused and annoyed that Thugg gets to stay, they all kind of just talk over the recent events with one another as Storm fades to commercial.

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“Welcome back to SWF STOOOOORRRRMMMMMM!” cries Cyclone Comet as the live feed returns to the Conseco Fieldhouse. “On the last edition of this show we saw a new face appear in the shape of Toxxic, and now that very same British cruiserweight faces an even more recent addition to the SWF roster! Aidan Redmond came out during the break, and-”

“Yes Comet, it seems that Storm... is... debuts!” Bobby Riley interrupts, mugging hideously. “However, I can only pray to Todd that this guy is better than the uptight tee-total spot-monkey we’ve had to watch for the last three shows.”

 

Before Riley can continue the heavy guitars of Lostprophets’ “We Still Kill The Old Way” kick in, and the jagged white words “Prepare To Be Proved Wrong” flash up on the blacked-out Smarktron. Someone has made a change to the video package, however, and a replay of the Falls Count Anywhere match on Smarkdown appears with Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off the balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the...

 

GO!

 

... eruption of red pyro that heralds the arrival of the straight-edger from the UK! Cracking his neck from side to side Toxxic makes his way down the entrance ramp, eyes fixed on the ring and the opponent it contains. Finally rushing in he slides across the canvas and then scales a ringpost, sweeping his arms wide to acknowledge a fan base slightly increased by his crazy match-winning move on the last show.

 

“And his opponent,” Funyon booms, “from Nottingham in the United Kingdom, he weighs in at 218lbs, this... is... TOXXXIIIIC!”. Grinning his trademark lopsided smile Toxxic flips off a casual salute and hops back down to the canvas, turning to look at his opponent as he shrugs off his shirt. For his part Redmond doesn’t take his eyes from those of the spiky-haired cruiserweight standing in front of him.

 

*DING! DING!*

 

“Well fans, it’s time to see what both these men have!” Comet enthuses as Toxxic and Redmond circle, looking for an opening. “Toxxic got an upset victory over Jacob Helmsley on his debut in a match that was over quickly to a surprise small package, then lost to Alan Clark in a superb cruiserweight outing, and just last show beat both Mike Van Siclen and the now-departed Manson in a Falls Count Anywhere that was high on impact, but low in mat wrestling.”

“I think Redmond might throw some surprises Toxxic’s way,” Riley opines as Toxxic dashes in looking for a leg sweep which Redmond dodges easily. “So far Toxxic’s game-plan has been based on his knowledge of his opponents whilst they know virtually nothing about him, but now it’s his turn to start from square one. In my opinion that tips the balance in favour of Redmond.”

 

The two men in the ring close with each other, locking arms in a classic collar-and-elbow tie-up. Redmond appears to have the strength advantage and backs Toxxic into a corner causing referee Ced Ordonez to insert himself, calling for a clean break - which he gets. Nodding his head thoughtfully Toxxic advances cautiously out of the corner, and moments later the two lock up again. This time Toxxic drops and spins, taking his opponent over with a textbook armdrag. Redmond rolls through and pops back up to his feet again, nodding slightly in his turn as he looks at the now-grinning Brit. The pair lock up for a third time but this time Redmond breaks the grip and slips behind his opponent, clamping on a rear waistlock. He hoists Toxxic off the mat before twisting and dropping him in a classic takedown, wasting no time in floating around and clamping on a front facelock, frustrating Toxxic’s efforts to rise.

 

“It looks like your assumption has been borne out, Robert,” Comet notes as Redmond clamps down on the hold. “Aidan Redmond appears to have some mat skills, and I can’t help but wonder if they will give him the edge over the flashy but unscientific Toxxic.”

“It’s all down to dictating the pace,” Riley replies, watching Toxxic trying unsuccessfully to reach the ropes with his feet. “If you keep him where you can see him then pretty much any cruiserweight who relies on speed just becomes a small guy you can hit. If he’s got you off-balance and looking for him then he’s got the edge. It’s almost as simple as Mark Steven’s spelling mistakes.”

“Perhaps Robert, but if Commissioner Stevens is still playing you full salary then he must have some problems with numbers too.”

 

Having effectively immobilised his opponent in the middle of the ring Redmond changes position slightly, turning so that he lies almost at right angles to the prostrate Toxxic. He slips his free arm underneath one of Toxxic’s, attempting to trap it at an angle away from the body whilst position his own hand on the back of the Brit’s neck, but as he does the grip of his other arm slips. With his head free again Toxxic rolls away before Redmond can reposition his other arm and lock in the hold, and both men come to their feet simultaneously.

 

“It looked like Aidan Redmond was trying for a Kataha Jamai there,” Comet muses, “but Toxxic managed to slip out.”

“And having nearly been caught in that dangerous submission he’s going in close again!” Riley observes. “Almost as bad a decision as the outfit I saw Johnny Dangerous in backstage earlier.”

 

Sure enough Toxxic and Redmond are closing into each other again, but this time the moment his opponent gets within reach Toxxic snags a wrist in one black-nailed hand and wrenches it over his head, twisting Redmond’s limb with an arm-wringer. Grabbing at his shoulder Redmond tries to twist away, but Toxxic holds tightly. Seeing that isn’t working Redmond circles towards the ropes, attempting to build enough momentum to be able to grab one and force the break, but as the centrifugal force starts to swing them around Toxxic finds himself heading towards a turnbuckle. Quickly the British rookie vaults to the top turnbuckle and then drops straight DOWN to the outside, causing Redmond’s trapped arm to be slammed into the top rope. The whiplash effect of the move sends Redmond sprawling inside the ring, face contorted with sudden pain as he cradles the wounded limb close to his chest and he rises back to his feet just as Toxxic gains the apron. In one fluid motion the straight-edger vaults to the centre of the top rope before coming off with a springboard spinning wheelkick that floors his adversary, but the moment the two wrestlers regain their feet again Toxxic grabs the same wrist and twist in another armwringer.

 

“Sensible strategy from Toxxic here as he maintains the pressure on the arm,” Comet declares as Toxxic manages to force Redmond to one knee momentarily. “That springboard kick could have opened up a much faster-flowing match for him to work with, but he’s staying on his advantage.”

“Stupid strategy,” Riley argues back. “A cruiserweight, if he wants to have any hope of being effective, needs to be flopping around and hoping he doesn’t get hit. If Toxxic keeps this up he’ll get caught out.”

 

With Redmond momentarily tied up Toxxic looks around for inspiration, and finds it in the turnbuckle again. Bringing the stumbling Redmond over he braces himself against the trapped limb of his opponent and quickly climbs to the top once more. Anticipating another drop to the outside Redmond tries to pull away, but he only succeeds in giving Toxxic more impact on the move he was trying for - a jumping legdrop that sandwiches Redmond’s arm against the canvas!

 

WHAM!

 

A sympathetic “Ooh!” emerges from the throats of the Indy crowd as Redmond writhes in pain in the ring. His predicament is not improved by Toxxic maintaining his hold on the same arm, rising to his feet and then basically spinning his own body 360 degrees, crashing down to the mat and inflicting more damage as he does so. Redmond whips over onto his back to remove the injured limb from danger - and Toxxic follows him to cover!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW-

kickout!

 

“Citizen Toxxic continuing to work the arm, Robert,” Comet says “I believe to set up his submission finisher, the Repeat To Fade. I’ve seen footage of this from the British circuit and believe me, the combination of a hammerlock, dragon sleeper and full bodyscissors is most unpleasant!”

“Gee, a submission finisher that’s unpleasant, what a novelty,” Riley sneers. “I suppose next you’re going to say that his impact finisher is painful!”

“I’d ask you not to be snide, Robert, if I thought you’d recognise the word.”

 

With a raging pain in his right arm Aidan Redmond is pulled upright by Toxxic, but the British rookie’s confidence is his downfall - literally. Redmond, hurt arm and all, reaches forward, grips his adversary behind the knees and hauls, sending Toxxic sprawling onto his back. In a moment Redmond has both of Toxxic’s feet beneath his armpits and twists over, locking in a Boston Crab. Toxxic’s struggles jar Redmond’s hurt right arm and the straight-edger’s left leg beaks free, but Redmond redoubles his grip on the other appendage and the single leg crab holds against all of Toxxic’s struggles!

 

“There you go, Comet!” Riley shouts. “Redmond’s got him locked in another submission move! I told you, Toxxic needs to keep moving if he’s going to win this thing!”

“Certainly the single leg crab will reduce Toxxic’s agility if maintained, but I think this will serve more as an opportunity for Citizen Redmond to regain his breath and bearings, Robert,” Comet argues. “Although saying that, he HAS got it locked in rather well...”

 

Leaning back into the move, Redmond grits his teeth as he struggles to maintain his position in the middle of the ring. Beneath him, inch by inch, Toxxic attempts to claw his way to the ropes, utilising every bit of friction he can muster from the canvas. With his free leg desperately scraping and flailing to give added thrust the Brit starts to get closer to his goal, but Redmond is not unaware of the movement. Leaning forward the debutant attempts to haul Toxxic back towards the centre of the ring, but this serves only to loosen his hold. Now able to use his other leg Toxxic starts to push himself up, attempting to use the extra leverage to drag his opponent from his back, but Redmond is too wily. Feeling his grip going he releases for one second - only to immediately twist, jump backwards and land applying a picture-perfect headlock to the rising Toxxic.

 

“This is beautiful mat wrestling from Redmond,” Comet states. “I can certainly see why Commissioner Stevens brought him in to swell the ranks of the SWF.”

“But? I hear a ‘but’ in your voice, Comet.”

“Well... he does remind me a little of Charlie Matthews...”

 

Now trapped again, Toxxic starts to push with both his legs and the arm that is not sandwiched between himself and Redmond. As the cruiserweight starts to circle on the mat with Redmond as the axis the debutant again realises the danger and twists the hold. With no alternative other than to have his neck broken Toxxic follows the lead of his head and ends up on his back, his pushing feet now doing little more than raising his crotch into the air. However, with his newly freed arm Toxxic claws at Redmond’s face, attempting to force an opening. Ordonez reprimands Toxxic, but as Redmond instinctively leans away from the questing fingers Toxxic’s legs shoot up and trap him in a headscissors. Seeking to pull his opponent away from his head Toxxic is unprepared for Redmond to roll with the momentum, ending up head down between Toxxic’s legs. Before the Brit can react to this situation Redmond seizes one of the legs trapping his head in either arm and vaults forward, landing on Toxxic and pinning his shoulders to the mat!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

kickout at two!

 

Both men rise to their feet again, but it is Redmond who strikes first, this time with a stinging right hand to the jaw! Staggering back a step Toxxic then comes back in and replies with his own, but it is answered in like fashion. The crowd, already murmuring as Toxxic sought a way to break out of the various predicaments he found himself in, now starts to roar as a good old-fashioned slugfest erupts in the middle of the ring! It is Redmond who gains the advantage, and as his adversary’s offence weakens he drives Toxxic back onto the ropes. Seizing the Brit’s right wrist he hauls Toxxic into an Irish whip, wincing at the momentary pain in his own arm, but by then Toxxic is already hitting the far ropes and rebounding back. For a second Redmond sees his opponent’s eyes widen, but the sudden realisation doesn’t save Toxxic from being hit by a brutal running kneelift!

 

OOOMPH!

 

Trying to shake the ache out of his right arm Redmond advances on his opponent who is now clutching his ribs and rolling on the mat in pain. Bending down to grip Toxxic and haul him up for more punishment no-one is more surprised than Redmond when two hands come up and grip his head, dropping him down into a sitout jawbreaker! The force of the impact sends the newcomer staggering backwards, but even as Redmond clutches his jaw he sees Toxxic back on his feet and charging him. Extending an arm Redmond swings but Toxxic ducks and rolls under the clothesline, smoothly rising to his feet behind the debutant. Redmond turns quickly but this time it is the Brit who strikes first...

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

 

Windup...

 

 

 

DISCUS CLOTHESLINE!!!

 

 

“Toxxic finally hits the Discus Clothesline!” Comet cries as the rookie slams both himself and Aidan Redmond to the mat with his momentum, the culmination of the move causing the crowd to cheer louder. “He’s tried that punch combo for the last three matches and it’s been ducked or blocked each time, but it’s finally found a victim in Aidan Redmond!”

“Which just tells you it’s a stupid move if it misses that often,” Riley comments. “How many other people do you see repeatedly going for moves that rarely hit?”

“Well... you know I HATE to prove you wrong Bobbo, but Jimmy Liston’s Demon Headbutt does spring to mind...”

 

Rising to his feet again Toxxic roars “Come on!” at the crowd who respond by starting to chant the rookie’s name:

 

“TOX-XIC!”

“TOX-XIC!”

“TOX-XIC!”

 

Saluting the crowd, Toxxic turns back to his opponent... only to be lifted up and unceremoniously spinebustered back down again! Redmond slides forward into the cover, hooking the far leg for added security...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

kickout at two!

 

“That weakened right arm of Aidan Redmond was the one he used to hook the leg,” Comet observes as Toxxic’s shoulder clears the mat, the left leg breaking his opponent’s grip, “and it may be that it was unable to keep enough pressure on Toxxic to get the three-count.”

“I don’t think Redmond seriously expected to get the win there,” Riley argues, “but if you can make your opponent expend energy by kicking out then it’s always worth a pop.”

 

Firing off a right hand to his opponent’s temple Redmond has a lot more on his mind than just making Toxxic expend energy. Whipping him once again into the ropes the debutant bends over in preparation to launch the Brit high into the air with a back bodydrop - but he goes down too early, and Toxxic manages to hit back with a facebuster that segues seamlessly into a DDT!

 

“Sobering Thought!” Comet calls as the two men hit the canvas once more, one clutching his head and the other his ribs. “But more than just a counter, that move has started to work on the head of Aidan Redmond, and it is the head that all of Toxxic’s big moves target.”

 

It is Toxxic who regains his feet first this time and the rookie seeks to press his advantage by firing off European uppercuts into the jaw of his dazed opponent. The onslaught backs Redmond up against the turnbuckles, and with one more shot for luck Toxxic whips Redmond viciously across the ring - but the debutant holds on and reverses the momentum, sending Toxxic flying for the far turnbuckles in his turn. At the last second Toxxic vaults to the top and then comes flying back at his opponent with a clothesline, but is blasted out of mid-air by a gorgeous standing dropkick!

 

“A FANTASTIC counter from Redmond!” Comet gasps as Toxxic hits the mat hard. “Either Aidan Redmond did some serious research before entering this match and knew about Toxxic’s tendency to hit the Role Reversal, or he has lightning-fast reactions!”

“Probably both, Comet,” Riley decides. “Anticipation is all well and good, but if you can’t react in time it’s less use than Charlie Matthews at a narcolepsy clinic!”

 

With a shout of “That’s it!” Redmond grabs Toxxic and pulls him into a standing headscissors. Redmond quickly locks both hands under his opponent’s stomach and wrenches upwards, lifting Toxxic high in order to spike him down with a vicious powerbomb, but the Brit has other ideas. Quickly regaining his bearings he starts to rain down right hands on the head beneath him, and as Redmond raises a hand in an attempt to shield his face he breaks the waistlock and Toxxic sees his opening. Throwing all his weight forward he slips out of the newcomer’s grip and rolls down his back to the mat, landing hard but pulling Redmond over with a sunset flip!

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

kickout!

 

Breaking the pin by the simple expedient of slamming his legs simultaneously into the sides of Toxxic’s head Redmond rolls out, but the moment he approaches a vertical base he is taken down again, this time with a small package!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-

kickout!

 

Again Redmond breaks the pin and comes to his feet, but this time as he extends an arm to grab his opponent Toxxic merely grips his wrist and spins, taking Redmond over with an armdrag that hearkens back to the beginning of their match. Redmond rolls up to his feet and lunges for the British punk, but at last Toxxic sees a real opening in his opponent’s rush and deftly slips behind him, using his right arm to slap on a reverse headlock. Toxxic holds Redmond there for a second before dropping down to one knee and driving the other into his adversary’s neck, but he isn’t finished there. Even as pain jars the vertebrae of his neck Redmond is brought back up and twisted over, to be brought crashing down to the mat with a Diamond Cutter!

 

“Detox!” Comet shouts as Toxxic rolls Redmond onto his back and hooks the leg. “Toxxic’s speed finally gives him a real edge in the match, and that could prove decisive!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-

kickout!

 

“NO!” Comet and Riley shout together as Redmond’s shoulder jerks off the mat at the last moment. “It was close, but not close enough for Toxxic!” Comet continues as the Brit looks at referee Ordonez, seemingly questioning the speed of the count.

“And too close by far for Redmond!” Riley shoots back.

 

Cracking his neck from side to side Toxxic brings Redmond up into a standing headscissors. The crowd starts to pop, knowing what comes next as Toxxic hooks one arm up behind Redmond’s back... hooks the other... but digging into his reserves of strength and ignoring the persistent pain in his right arm, Redmond breaks the double underhook and seizes Toxxic’s legs, toppling him onto his back. Without wasting a second the debutant flips forward into a cover, mirroring the one he attempted earlier on...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

kickout!

 

...but it’s doomed to the same fate as Toxxic manages to wriggle out, dumping Redmond onto the mat. Seeking to gain the advantage Redmond attempts to grab Toxxic before both men have risen, but the speedy straight-edger slips out of his grip and behind his opponent, then hooks his left arm around Redmond’s neck in what starts out as a rear headlock, but ends up as a...

 

“Dragon sleeper!” Comet calls, the excitement palpable in his voice. “Toxxic’s attempting to set up the Repeat To Fade!”

“And Redmond’s fading fast!” Riley observes.

 

Sure enough Redmond quickly sinks to one knee, and anxious to increase his leverage Toxxic leans forward for a moment in an effort to lock the sleeper in tighter. But as the Brit’s weight shifts Redmond reveals he has been playing possum, rising up to his feet again with Toxxic draped precariously over his right shoulder. Toxxic struggles, but Redmond’s right arm anchors him firmly in place and the damage done earlier in the match is not enough to loosen his grip. With a quick three-step run-up Aidan Redmond drives his body towards the mat, slamming Toxxic down with a thunderous running powerslam!

 

“Could this be the turning point?” Comet cries as Redmond drapes an arm over for the cover. “Could this be where Aidan Redmond announces his arrival to the SWF?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-

kickout!

 

“TOX-XIC!”

“TOX-XIC!”

“TOX-XIC!”

 

The chants drive the straight-edger to his feet, desperate to regain the advantage over his opponent, but he’s met by a right hand to the jaw. Staggering backwards Toxxic is unable to prevent himself being seized by the wrist once more and launched across the ring towards the unforgiving turnbuckles, but as he reaches them he once more vaults upwards. Following him in Redmond spots the movement and, anticipating the Role Reversal to come, hits the deck, but instead of the “thump” as Toxxic hits the mat following a missed flying clothesline there is... nothing. Rising to his feet Redmond looks around uncertainly only to spot Toxxic, having held on, perched atop the ringpost moments before the straight-edger dives off with a hurricanrana!

 

Determined not to let his opponent get any more offence in, Toxxic springs on the disorientated Redmond and seizes his right arm in a vice-like grip. Twisting in another arm-wringer the rookie proceeds to unload blow after blow to the limb, clubbing at it with fist and forearm and even a few kicks. Finally Toxxic grips Redmond’s arm across his chest and just falls straight backwards, the impact jarring both arm and shoulder still further and causing the debutant to cry out in pain.

 

“Citizen Toxxic really showing his determination now as he assaults the right arm of Aidan Redmond!” Comet calls. “But Citizen Redmond has shown his resilience several times in this match already, and it could still go either-”

“Repeat To Fade, Comet!” Riley interrupts. “Toxxic’s going for it again!”

 

Sure enough, Toxxic grabs Redmond’s right arm again and twists it behind his back into a hammerlock position, then steps on the back of his right knee to force his opponent down. Redmond fights it, but the pain in his arm is too great to twist out of the hold. Toxxic reaches forward in order to lock in the Dragon Sleeper and Redmond attempts to muscle up again and take the Brit onto his shoulder... but this time Toxxic has his weight too far back, and with Toxxic over his right shoulder and his right arm hammerlocked behind his back Redmond can’t grab his opponent in any case. As Toxxic struggles to clamp the hand applying the Dragon Sleeper onto the hammerlocked right hand of Redmond, locking the hold in, Aidan Redmond looks around for something, anything to save the match... and sees, not two foot away, the ring ropes. With a last desperate lunge Redmond reaches for them with his free hand, straining despite the screaming pain in his right arm... the distance closes to one foot...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...eight inches...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...six inches...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“He’s got them, Comet!” Bobby Riley shouts. “Redmond’s got the ropes!”

“True Robert, but Citizen Toxxic seems loath to break the hold..”

 

With Ced Ordonez’ count fast approaching the dreaded “5” Toxxic desperately tries to haul Redmond away, so close to locking in what would be the match-winning hold... but it is not to be, and half a second away from being disqualified the man from Nottingham breaks and pulls back, leaving Aidan Redmond hanging onto the ring ropes. Most men would take the opportunity to grab a quick breath and regroup, but Redmond knows what he needs to do now; attack, and attack quickly before his weak and throbbing right arm is targeted further. With a roar the debutant charges...

 

...only to have his legs scythed from under him as Toxxic goes to ground with a vicious soccer tackle. Redmond rolls desperately to his feet once more, his left ankle blazing in pain and barely able to support his weight, but he can no longer move quickly enough to avoid the boot that thumps into his midsection, driving the air from his heaving lungs and doubling him over. Toxxic places his opponent into the standing headscissors and reaches down to hook both arms up prior to driving Redmond facefirst into the canvas with the spinning Pedigree, but the fight has not gone out of Redmond yet. With one last burst of effort he frees his left arm, reaching forward to topple Toxxic’s legs as he did once before.

 

But this time, the right arm is too weak to break free. The assault that set it up for the Repeat To Fade now makes it too painful for even Redmond’s determined efforts to free. The muscles just don’t respond, and Toxxic fires off a clubbing forearm to his opponent’s back, driving him to his knees. Another, and another, and now there is no breath left in Aidan Redmond’s body to muster any resistance to his left arm being rehooked. With victory finally in his grasp Toxxic looks round at the standing crowd inside the Conseco Fieldhouse, and with a grunt of effort brings Aidan Redmond up...

 

 

 

 

...around...

 

 

 

 

...and...

 

 

 

 

...DOWN!

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING! DING!*

 

“Ladies and gentlmen,” Funyon booms, “Here is your winner... TOXXXXIIIIIC!!!”

 

“A mammoth bout between these two rising stars tonight Robert,” Cyclone Comet proclaims as the guitars of Lostprophets kick in and the straight-edger wearily climbs a ringpost to salute his fans. “Citizen Redmond gave it his all, gave it everything he had, but this time it is the man from the UK who emerges victorious.”

“Personally, I can’t wait to see Toxxic’s little run halted by someone,” Bobby Riley responds, “but I have to admit this Redmond guy looks useful. Given the right sort of attitude and training, he might be fit to clean my Todd’s shoes.”

“Thanks for those words of wisdom Robert, and we’ll see all you viewers at home after this brief commercial break!”

 

FADE OUT

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Indianapolis, Indiana is alive and rocking as Storm’s theme booms across the Conseco Fieldhouse, bringing the SOLD OUT crowd to their feet as we return from commercial break! After the cameras make their sweep of the crowd, it stops on the overbearing figure of Thugg seated in the front row – his arms crossed and a smug look etched upon his face.

 

“I can’t believe they actually made him purchase a ticket.” remarks Bobby Riley, as the cameras shift to the commentators table. “I mean… employed or not, you’d think he would have a life time pass to any SWF event.”

 

“That’s how the cookie crumbles, Citizen Robert.” says Cyclone Comet, the normally exuberant masked commentator. “Besides, If HVT can afford plane tickets, car rentals, and hotels to follow us around the nation; I would think the price of admission to one of our shows wouldn’t put much of a dent into his wallet.”

 

“Well… that statement just shows how much you know, Comet.” quips Bobby, with a goofy grin. “Homies like Thugg carry money clips not wallets.”

 

“Judas Priest…” says Comet, shaking his head in pity. “Folks, we are just about ready for our match pitting Alan Clark against Johnny Dangerous! As some of you may already know, prior to Storm, Alan Clark and Johnny Dangerous exchanged some heated words between one another with each man pledging to make an example out of the other! Alan wanting to show Thugg just how intense he can be, while Johnny swearing not to let Alan make a mockery out of him! With all that said, this match is sure to be a barn burner that would rival Chicago!”

 

“I don’t know about all that,” says Bobby, “more like a match stick burning; this is Johnny’s first singles match in ages, plus if Alan Clark gets so distracted by HVT’s music that he looses a match, how’s he going to handle Thugg sitting in the first row?”

 

“I don’t think HVT sitting out here watching should cause too much of a problem,” Comet replies, “so long as he stays seated in his well… seat. Furthermore, if Thugg were to even try and get involved in this match, he’d receive the same treatment any other paying fan would – tossed out on his ear by security.”

 

“Yeah, right,” scoffs Riley, “I’d like to see a Security Guard toss Thugg out of the arena.”

 

As the lights begin to slowly fade the low rumbling sounds of a storm in the distance can be heard inside the Conseco Fieldhouse. The storm draws closer and closer until finally the crackling sound of thunder booms throughout the arena, jarring everyone loose from their seat! Added sounds of raindrops begin echoing out, and after finally realizing just who is about to come down, the crowd cheers with splendor! The opening acoustic chords of Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” begin to play, and the Smarktron™ slowly fades to black and white images of Alan Clark. Clark himself finally swipes aside the curtains and steps out onto the stage with his guitar slung over his shoulder and wearing a smile a mile wide.

 

“Entering first in this match scheduled for one fall,” begins Funyon, “weighing two hundred twenty-five pounds, and coming from Long Beach, California, ALAAAAAN CLAAAAARRK!!”

 

He stops at the top of the ramp as his eyeballs become fixed onto Thugg seated in the audience – his overbearing presence making him stick out like a sore thumb! For a moment he just stares… then finally shakes his head to snap back to reality and begins his usual stroll down the ramp.

 

“Alan Clark – after a well fought match against Wildchild on Smarkdown was unable to come up with the victory and claim the Cruiserweight Championship.” notes Comet, “A win here tonight against the Bahama Bomber’s partner, could put him back in contention for the Cruiserweight Title.”

 

“I don’t think the Cruiserweight Championship matters to him one bit right now,” counters Bobby, “all Alan Clark wants is Thugg’s head in a hand basket! As much of a fool as I think Alan is to try and challenge HVT, you have to admit… that takes some guts! And what Alan needs here tonight is a leg to stand on against HVT; right now his chances of surviving an encounter with Thugg are slim and none!”

 

“I’ll agree with you on that one, Bobby, and if Alan can eventually defeat Thugg he will be on top of his game.”

 

“Pfft. Alan Clark has NO chance in hell against Thugg,” spits Riley, “I just want to see him reach HVT so Thugg can absolutely crucify that damn Tree Hugging Hippie!”

 

Walking alongside the outside of the ring, Alan stops just in front of where HVT is sitting shooting a vicious snarl towards him.

 

“You’d be well advised to watch what happens in this ring,” growls Alan, “it’s just a taste... of what’s waiting for you!”

 

“Whoa,” says Comet, rather surprised as Alan sets his guitar down and slides into the ring. “BIG talk by Alan Clark - we were just lucky enough to have our camera crew close enough to hear all of that!”

 

Alan pumps his fist to the crowd for a decent pop while his music slowly begins to drift into obscurity and as the lights begin to dim a soft spoken yet sultry voice breathes the name of the SWF’s resident Secret Agent, rejuvenating the fans!

 

JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!”

 

“After the Flesh” immediately comes thundering across the arena, while the stage begins to fill with the haze of white smoke swirling out from the sides. Dozens of strobes light up the set, piercing through the smoke and partially illuminating the Barracuda as he steps out from backstage dressed in his sleek-black casual attire with a pair of high-tech shades!

 

“And his opponent, weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds, and hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, he is one half of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation’s Tag Team Champions, I give you ‘The Barracuda’, JOHNNNNY DAAAANGEROUUSS!!”

 

Slinging the Tag Team Title over his shoulder, Johnny begins to walk in stride down the ramp, flashing that million dollar smile and winking at those luscious ladies that adorn the first row. He steps up each step of the steel staircase, and then glides across the length of the apron, stopping about midway and turning to the fans before pumping his fist out to them as thousands of flash bulbs explode!

 

“You know,” says Bobby, “if Inspector Gadget here was as good in the ring as he is at kissing ass and show-boating he could actually be a serious threat in this federation.”

 

“Oddly enough, that’s … probably about the nicest thing I have ever heard you say about Johnny Dangerous, Citizen Robert.”

 

“Well,” Riley continues, “as it stands now I rank him just a step above Xero.”

 

Comet simply nods his disapproval, opting out of an endless debate with Bobby as Johnny steps into the ring and hands off his title belt to Referee Anthony Michael Hall before shedding his coat and flinging his shades off his face and into the crowds, and to a massive pop no less! But … the second the shades leave his face is the same instant that his smile is replaced with a frightening scowl as he snaps his head to attention, staring directly into Alan Clark’s beady little eyes. Johnny steps towards the center, and Alan steps into the middle of the ring, and that … is close enough-

 

KA-RACK!!

 

Catching Alan completely off guard, Johnny swings his foot out with a lighting-quick Spinning Heel Kick that slams directly into the side of Clark’s skull! The crowd explodes as Alan drops to the mat, and Hall darts to the edge of the ring frantically signaling to the timekeeper to ring the bell!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“What in the hell was that?!” cries Riley, “Cheap shot if I ever did see one!”

 

Completely shell-shocked, Alan rolls to his feet and falls into the ropes, his hand clenched to the side of his head. He glances across the ring, spotting Johnny standing in middle, striking a Martial Art’s stance, and beckoning Alan to come in for the fight.

 

“I think that was a warning shot by Johnny Dangerous,” notes Comet, “He’s letting Alan Clark know right from the start that he will not let anyone make an example out of him! I also find it rather chivalrous of the Barracuda to stand back and give Citizen Clark some room to regroup before continuing with this match.”

 

“Chivalrous my ass,” counters Bobby, “All Johnny is going to do is try and goad Alan into a knock-down brawl. We all know that Johnny can kick out some serious moves, but he can’t wrestle his way out of a wet paper bag! If Alan can get in there and wrestle Johnny, he’ll win hands down.”

 

But the words of Riley pay no heed to Alan Clark – he rockets out of the ropes with a vicious snarl and-

 

WOOSH!

 

-Just barely ducks under a second Spinning Heel Kick from Johnny then rushes in with a series of fierce right hands to the Secret Agent’s face!

 

Whap!

Whap!

Whap!

 

Johnny is caught completely off guard by the shots - never fully regaining his balance after his missed kick, and stumbles backward just barley able to keep from falling flat on his ass. Alan inadvertently saves some of Johnny’s grace as he grabs the Barracuda by the wrist and attempts to whip him across the ring, but Johnny slams on the breaks and reverses … only instead of whipping Clark across the ring, Johnny swings his knee up and forcefully yanks Alan across it!

 

Oof!”

 

And Alan takes one slow step back as he doubles over clenching his gut, stunned just long enough for Johnny to rear his fist back and absolutely ROCK Clark’s skull with a ferocious punch!

 

WHAM!

 

“By the Last Son of Krypton,” shouts Comet, as Alan flops to the mat back first. “those two aren’t pulling any of their punches!”

 

“I hope you weren’t expecting them too,” Bobby replies, snidely. “cause these two have a point to prove remember, and there is no way somebody isn’t going home in a body bag tonight!”

 

Johnny drops over Alan for a pin…

 

ONEEE!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW-Kick Out!

 

“And just before two,” notes Comet, “not much hope went into that one though.”

 

Alan staggers to his feet as Johnny rolls off him, then springs to his feet and heads across the ring without a single delay. Johnny sinks into the ropes, and rockets himself off them – tearing back across the ring towards Alan with a blaze of fire! But at the last moment Clark ducks under an attempted lariat, the reaches around from behind him to catch the Barracuda by his head, and drops him to the mat with a quick… yet effective neck breaker!

 

“Alan fighting back with whatever he can!” reports Comet, “and it looks like he’s going to go for the pin… and he may have it!”

 

ONEEEE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOO!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-NOOOOO!!

 

 

“Johnny just barely manages to gets the shoulder up just before three!” details Comet, “It seems awful early in this match for those counts to be so close!”

 

“That would be the case on a normal basis where two competitors are actually wrestling one another.” Bobby explains, “but these two have been going at it like it’s a bar fight, and those types of fights are usually over in ten seconds or less!”

 

“I’ll actually agree to that this time,” concedes Comet, “these two are more concerned with leaving a permanent dent in the others skull than anything.”

 

Alan bounces back to his feet, and sticks his elbow out! He raises one leg up as he prepares to fall to the side and drive his elbow into Johnny’s sternum but… as quick as lighting strikes the Barracuda whips his leg out and sweeps Alan’s leg out from under him, dropping the Rookie like a bad habit! Johnny jumps up to his feet, then reaches down and grabs Alan by his ankle. With a bit of pressure in just the right spot, Johnny is able to bend Clark’s will into his own, forcing Alan to roll onto his stomach. He steps forward, straddling over the Rookie then drops to his knees, still holding Alan’s ankle in his grasp. A quick readjustment of his grip on Alan’s foot, and Johnny is then able to crank it back over his shoulder into a Half Crab!

 

“The Barracuda!” shouts Comet, “It looks Johnny is going to try for the submission, and what stinging effect this would leave on Alan Clark were he to give up?”

 

“Don’t count on him giving up to that crappy move, Comet.” says Bobby, “I don’t think anyone has ever fallen to the Barracuda and Alan’s not about to be the first… I don’t think anyway.”

 

Pain surges through Clark’s leg at an astounding rate and he howls in sheer agony as he pushes himself off the mat with both arms!

 

Hall drops down and asks Alan if he yields, but Clark stubbornly shakes his head no as he clenches down hard on his teeth! Slowly, he reaches out in front of him, digging his nails deep into the canvas… and DRAGS himself forward with all of Johnny’s weight directly on top of him!

 

“By Odin’s Beard!” shouts Comet. “The relentless drive inside this young superstar is simply inspiring! I don‘t know how he could possibly keep fighting - the pain has got to be absolutely horrendous!”

 

“He keeps fighting because he isn’t about to let Johnny punk him out like this!” snaps Riley, “Besides, imagine how much of a fool he’d look like if Johnny beat him after running his mouth the way he did!”

 

After a few good-yet-tearful tugs, the ropes are so close Alan could almost taste them on the tip of his tongue, yet still… they seem so, so far away. He begins to reach out… closer… closer… he knows he is almost home when he can feel the fibers of the ropes grazing across his fingertips.

 

“He’s almost there,” reports Bobby, “One good stretch and he’s home!”

 

But…

 

“ARGGGGHHHH!!!!” Alan cries out as Johnny tightens his grip around Clark’s ankle and cranks back even harder, trying his hardest to get a submission from this thick-headed Rookie! The pain is simply unbearable and it’s all Alan can do to close his eyes as he sluggishly brings out his arm-

 

“I think Alan Clark has taken all he can possible take for the night… already,” observes Comet, “because he is on the verge of submitting!”

 

Alan open’s his eyes and finds himself looking dead on with the H-Ville Thugg in the first row as for him… all time ceases to exist for the moment. The Angry Black Man just glares back with a smug look, eagerly anticipating Alan’s impending loss at the hands of Johnny Dangerous.

 

“It can’t end this way,” Alan tells himself, “I must… ”

 

“… Give?”

 

“NO!” he mentally screams at himself and snaps back to reality! His head jerks back up, and he thrusts his arm out just as hard and as equally fast as he possibly can-

 

“-HE’S GOT IT!” cries Comet just as Clark grabs tightly to the ropes, and the fans rejoice with a tremendous cheer! “I didn’t think he had the strength in him, but he has just proven me dead wrong!”

 

“If only... ”

 

Johnny damns himself for letting Alan make it so close to the ropes, and not trying to pull him back towards the middle of the ring - a fatal mistake, but a mistake that won’t be repeated… that’s for damn sure!

 

Clark’s head slumps into the mat as a sigh of relief comes over him from the releasing of the nagging pain. But that relief only comes for a second as Johnny grabs back onto Alan’s leg and drags him back into the middle of the ring! Alan’s head jerks back up, startled from the sudden grasping of his leg, and he desperately tries to reach out for the ropes, but they escape his fingers before he can get a firm grasp on them.

 

“Johnny’s going for the Barracuda again!” says Comet. “This isn’t going to be good for Alan at all, he barely survived the first one!”

 

“This is goes back to my original statement about Johnny not being able to wrestle.” says Bobby, “Knowing one single move and repeating it over and over does nothing more than prove me correct!”

 

Johnny tries to straddle back over Clark, but Alan isn’t about to just hand over his leg without a fight! Oh-no! He quickly rolls over onto his back before the Barracuda has a good handle on him, and kicks his good foot into Johnny’s gut, catching the Secret Agent by complete surprise! Stunned for the instant, Johnny leaves himself open – slumping over like someone hanging off a meat hook as Alan Clark lets out a mighty growl and sends his foot into Johnny’s gut for the second time, knocking the Barracuda right off his feet!

 

“Citizen Clark is refusing to let Dangerous lock in that Barracuda for a second time!” reports Comet. “Even HE knows he couldn’t take another dose of that!”

 

“Your forgetting to mention that Alan just put Johnny flat on his ass, Comet!” adds Riley, “Alan is on the horizon of making good on his word to Johnny… an example he shall be made of!”

 

Johnny’s down, but it will only be for a few seconds and Alan knows this all to well. He climbs back up to his feet, however shakily… and as he steps one foot forward his leg nearly gives out on him-

 

“- that Half Crab Barracuda by Johnny seems to have left it’s sting in Alan Clark’s leg,” Riley observes, “and I am not one bit surprised as Johnny was cranking back on it something fierce… damn French Cunt.”

 

As Alan saunters forward, Johnny crawls towards the ropes while holding to his midsection and grimacing accordingly. Using the ropes, he pulls himself back up to his feet, spins around…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

“AND CITIZEN CLARK PLOWS HIS FIST STRAIGHT INTO JOHNNY’S MOUTH!” roars Comet, “I think that had to be the hardest hit of the night!”

 

The sudden ferocity of the strike snaps Johnny’s head back and causes him to go FLYING~ back into the ropes! Johnny sinks in and is instantly propelled off of them… straight into a reckless swing of Clark’s fist!

 

WHACK!!

 

Once more Johnny is knocked back, but this time Clark gives chase! He hobbles after the Barracuda, landing several more strikes into his head, followed by several knees to his stomach! With each hit the crowds become louder and louder - standing to their feet and cheering loudly… all except for HVT of course, who still sits just as calmly as ever.

 

“Alan is fighting for his life in there!” says Cyclone Comet. “Though broken down, bruised, and battered, Clark is determined to finish this match victorious!”

 

“That’s quite a bit of an exaggeration there, Comet,” says Riley, “Alan is hardly broken down… he could use a good lube though,” *wink* *wink* “and he’d be all good to go.”

 

With a firm grip on Johnny’s wrist, Alan whips the Barracuda across the ring! Johnny hits the ropes, and comes rocketing back, and in a last ditch effort Johnny weakly swings out for the Rookie’s mug, but Alan easily dodges, spins around, and grabs onto Dangerous from behind!

 

“GERMAN!” calls Comet as Clark begins to haul Johnny off his feet, but as Alan raises one leg up – his good leg – and thoughtlessly takes all of the weight on his sore leg… he simply buckles, keeping this flight grounded!

 

“Looks like that leg may have more damage than originally thought.” says Comet, “It doesn’t seem to want to let Alan go on with this match!”

 

Alan is dropped to one knee, yet he still keeps his hands firmly clasped around Johnny’s waist. He shakily stands back up, hoping to make a quick correction and keep this one going, but Johnny takes the chance he has to turn this one around! He recklessly swings his elbow behind him, which connects with Clark’s forehead and stuns him… however briefly!

 

CRACK!

 

A second elbow loosens the Rookie’s grip from the Barracuda’s waistline and a third completely jars Alan loose, sending him stammering backwards while holding to his head! Grabbing onto Clark’s wrist, he jerks the Rookie’s hand away from his face, and SLAMS his knuckles straight into Alan’s jaw with enough force to knock a hole through a brick wall!

 

 

WHAM!!

 

 

“Alan Clark is sent spinning into the ropes!” reports Comet, “You wouldn’t believe how much power Johnny Dangerous packs into those punches!”

 

“Yeah, but not as much as Alan packs in his lunch sack.” counters Bobby, “you already said it was Alan with the hardest punch all night.”

 

Johnny rears back for a second punch and swings forward, but the Fighting Disney Loving Cruiser throws up his forearm for a block… then swings his fist out-

 

WOOSH!

 

-Johnny side steps Alan Clark and the only thing to get hit is a single strand of Johnny’s jet-black mane… which is quickly put back into place with a swipe of his hand. Acting on reflexes, and being able to pull out all the stops in tight situations, Johnny hooks one arm around Clark’s leg and catches onto his arm with the other, draping it over his shoulder! Alan tries to squirm free, but it’s much too late as Johnny tears him off his feet, hauls him up… over…

 

“MIIIIIIIIIIII… ”

 

… AND ABSOLUTELY DRILLS ALAN’S NECK AND SHOULDERS INTO THE MAT!!

 

SAAAAA-LAAAAAM!!

 

“What the,” spits Riley, as the ring quivers with impact and Clark’s body bounces away!! “that was an MI Slam! Don’t tell me Alan is two steps away from looking like the fool of the night!”

 

“Correct you are, Citizen Robert.” replies Comet, “and with the brutal beating these two laid into each other already that might just be all Johnny needs to finish this match with!”

 

Johnny drops down and hooks the leg, firmly pinning Alan to the mat as Hall drops for the count…

 

 

 

ONEEE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Hall pops to his feet and calls for the match, which is met with a massive pop as the sound of the bell rings out!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“After the Flesh” kicks up, and the Referee helps Johnny to his feet then raises his hand up in victory as Funyon hops up from his seat and makes the announcement.

 

“THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH, BY PINFALL… JOHNNNNNNNY DAAANGEROUUUUUS!!”

 

“What a splendid effort by Operative Dangerous!” cheers Comet, “I’m surprised this match didn’t go longer than it did, but Johnny was able to catch Alan Clark - who is still learning the ropes in the SWF by surprise and capitalize on it as well.”

 

“I am sure this is exactly what HVT wanted to see, but this just… ugh.” cringes Bobby, “This match just had to end on a sour note for me. Now Alan has nothing to stand on when trying to get Thugg reinstated so he can have a match against him!”

 

“Why would he want to do that?” questions Comet, “What… so you can see Thugg destroy another innocent man? Can you not see how much HVT has already affected poor Alan Clark?”

 

“And he’ll affect him a lot more, if there ever is a match.” Bobby answers, “Plus after the match is done with, Alan won’t be able to use HVT as his scapegoat for his looses. As far as Johnny Dangerous goes, he may have won but his time with that little Tag Team Championship will end when the House of Todd get a hold of Wild and Dangerous!”

 

Johnny grabs his coat and Title Belt, and rolls from the ring. Satisfied after securing his victory, he makes his way towards backstage as he slings the Tag Team Championship over his shoulder and slaps all the hands he can reach on his way up the ramp.

 

Inside the ring the Referee reaches out for Alan Clark’s hand to help him to his feet, but Clark refuses the offer, dismissing Hall with a light shove. Alan drags himself to his feet by aide of the ropes, and drapes himself over the ropes - looking out to the crowds… and then to HVT. Both men’s eyeballs meet. Thugg lets a smirk come across him, which only serves to agitate Alan further!

 

“See… I knew Alan would be too distracted by Thugg,” says Riley as Clark drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring. “A simple smile by HVT gets Alan’s skin crawling!”

 

“Maybe,” agrees Comet, “but if that’s the case then Alan Clark has a lot to learn about keeping his focus; in this business there are going to be a LOT of distractions!”

 

Alan grabs his guitar and slings it over his shoulder with one hand, while holding onto his ribcage with the other. He staggers forward… then stops… and turns, standing just in front of Thugg.

 

“I hope you got your God damn money’s worth,” growls Alan.

 

He turns his head and spits, and all around him the crowds begin to cheer, hoping to see some kind of a showdown! Thugg chuckles slightly then slowly leans forward, beckoning Alan nearer with his finger.

 

“Not yet,” Thugg replies as he suddenly lashes out, snatching Alan’s pencil neck with his hand and jerking him off his feet like a rag doll! Alan’s guitar drops to the floor and his face is that of pure shock as the crowd explodes into cheers! Thugg holds Alan suspended in the air for about three seconds before viciously SLAMING him back-first into the mat with a mighty growl!

 

WHAAAM!!

 

“UNTAMED! UNTAMED!” shouts Bobby, “HVT just Untamed Alan Clark’s Disney loving ass straight to hell, I love it!”

 

“Oh my,” Comet can’t do much more than wince at the impact. “This… this just is not Alan Clark’s night.”

 

Thugg exhales a heavy breath as he towers over the guard rail looking down at Alan’s carcass. Out of the corner of his eye he can see two Security Guards headed his way, but all he has to do is snap his head to the side and shoot them his ever-so-menacing look to stop them dead in their tracks, forcing them to rethink their options. Thugg nods his head as if to say “That’s right bitch, you better think again” then drops back down in his seat, smiling widely as he raises his arms back, and rest his head into the palms of his hands. The cameras take one final shot of Alan Clark’s body crumpled on the floor…

 

As we:

 

FADE OUT.

Edited by Suicide King

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Somewhere in the back of thee Conseco Fieldhouse, Ben Hardy and the trusty Gus pace through the corridors.

 

“I really don’t want to do this interview. You know how pissed off he can get. Especially after what happened on the last show.” Ben grumbles nervously as he approaches a locker room door.

 

Banging on the door sharply, Ben steps back winces as the door slowly creeps back. The camera pans back to look through the door, showing a scene of devastation. Couches turned over, things spilled across the floor, a shattered mirror on the wall. The door opens some more and Dace Night steps through it, readjusting his jeans as he goes.

 

“Yes Ben, can I help you with something?” He intones slowly..

 

“Errmm, it’s nothing really Mr. Night, I can see you’re not in the mood to be interviewed right now. I’ll just leave and come back when you’re not so busy..” Hardy stammers, backing away from the violent mess in Dace’s locker room and Dace himself.

 

Looking back over his shoulder, Dace smiles for a moment, but it fades quickly.

 

“That’s jus the aftermath of a good shag Ben. But if you interrupt snuggle time again, you will be even more dickless then you already are.” Notes Dace, a growl rising in his voice as he goes.

 

Nodding slowly, Ben takes an extra step back and holds the mic out slowly, looking as if he’d bolt if a pin dropped anywhere near him.

 

“But if you want an interview, I’ve got something to say. And you can all guess that it’s about that asshole Va’aiga. Are you afraid to come and take on me one on one anymore Maori? Are you afraid of what I might end up doing to you if I get the chance for revenge? I’d be far more worried about what else could happen. I just want revenge on you. For what you’ve done to me, for what do did to Danny. But what if a hero comes along Va’aiga. I’m not a hero, but what if Grappler is? What if Charlie Matthews turns out to be that dragon killing knight in shining armour? You screwed then, because you can’t stop a hero Va’aiga, not again. Now, it’s all a matter of who faces you first. You can’t run forever Va’aiga. Sooner or later, I’ll have my revenge. Or someone that wants to be a hero will challenge or. Or even worse, you’ll have to fight a hero and you’ll be done for.” Dace growls, staring straight past Ben and into the brink of psychotic revenge.

 

Backing away even further, Ben tries to stay away from Dace’s line of sight.

 

“Do you have anything else to say Dace?” Ben asks, almost shaking in his boots.

 

“No, now get out of here.” Dace yells as he slams the door.

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Inside his offices, Mark Stevens is milling over some papers as a female assistant stands next to him, waiting for orders as she clutches a clipboard tightly to her chest. There is a knock at the door.

 

“I’m busy,” Mark responds, but the door opens anyway and Stevens looks up from his desk as John Duran and James Matheson enter. Stevens is more than a little annoyed at the legal presence. “Oh, what is it this time?”

 

“Mr. Stevens,” Matheson clears his throat before continuing, “my client, Mr. Duran, is in no way, shape, or form prepared for his match against Mr. Bailey at the upcoming event on March the 7th of 2004.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“You must understand,” Matheson continues, much calmer than he was just a few days ago, “my client has many things to deal with in the weeks leading up to this event. Mr. Duran will be defending the Hardcore Championship in mere days. As a member of the Unnamed, he will be protecting his partner Mr. Tu’ipolotu from being attacked further by the Unholy Trinity or any outside force such as Mr. Matthews or Ms. Onita, so that the fight between Mr. Matthews and Mr. Tu’ipolotu on March the 7th of 2004 can go on as scheduled.” Matheson takes a breath. “Mind if I sit down?”

 

“Actually,” Mark responds, “I’d rather you not.”

 

However, both John and James take seats in front of the commissioner’s desk. Mark sighs as Matheson continues. “Furthermore, Mr. Stevens, my client now has to deal with a certain Mr. Bailey, a man who almost murdered my client on national television--“

 

“Now, Terrence wasn’t going to kill hi--“

 

“Mr. Stevens!” Matheson strikes back in a rather forceful tone. “Can I finish?” No response from Grand Slam. “Thank you. How can you expect Mr. Duran to compete in regular matches leading up to the From The Fire event when there are so many things that he has to deal with, especially the fact that you have just signed a match between my client and a certified LUNATIC! It is true that one Mr. Bailey has been under heavy psychological evaluation for quite some time, correct?”

 

Stevens’ response is delayed. “…Well, yes.”

 

“Mr. Stevens,” Matheson replies with confidence, “may I remind you that you have a contractual obligation as commissioner of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation to maintain the health and well-being of the wrestlers on this roster! Lawsuits may be brought upon you if such infringements continue!”

 

“Listen, James--“ Grand Slam begins, but Matheson cuts him off.

 

“Mr. Matheson, please, I’d appreciate it if you would at least give me the respect you refuse my clients.

 

“Fine, Mr. Matheson. The fact is, Va’aiga did not sue over his broken cheekbone at the hands of Danny Williams. Thugg did not sue over his twice-broken neck. Mr. Matheson, I think I should remind you that Terrence is not going to KILL John…”

 

“BUT HE’S *BEEP*ING NUTS!” Duran finally blurts out, and the crowd boos the Notorious One’s words.

 

Matheson tries to calm down the Illinois man. “Please, Mr. Duran, I can handle this--“

 

“Terrence isn’t the psychopath, John. Janus is. And you’re going to be facing -Terrence- at From The Fire. I even have it here in writing--“ Mark searches for the papers he received from Dr. Frood but Duran slams his hand down on the desk and stands upright.

 

“Screw your PAPERS, Mark!” Duran roars, and Matheson doesn’t bother to interject. “What about at the Fight Before Christmas? Who was that that drove Va’aiga’s skull into the concrete, Mark? Was that Janus who nearly paralyzed Va’aiga? Or was that just TERRENCE?”

 

Mark’s silence satisfies Duran’s anger as John remains standing. “That’s right. Terrence didn’t win that damn match. Janus did. And he’s going to have the chance to do the same thing to me. You think about that when you’re going over your papers, Mark.”

 

“No matter what, it doesn’t change that you’ve got a match against him at From The Fire,” Stevens says defiantly.

 

“And you might just have a problem on your hands when one of your wrestlers ends up paralyzed,” Matheson responds in a biting tone.

 

“That’s right,” Duran adds, “because if Terrence, or if Janus, or if both of the personalities that belong to that big bastard come after me and try to do what they did to Va’aiga? I’ll get them first. To quote you, Mark? That is a DAMN promise.”

 

“Good day, Mr. Stevens,” Matheson ends the conversation as both men turn their back on the commissioner and his assistant, slamming the door behind them as Mark moves back to the work on his desk, sighing with frustration.

 

“I hate lawyers.”

Edited by Thoth

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The Cyclone Comet welcomes us back to the Conseco Fieldhouse with what some of us might call… song, “Folks just sit right back and you’ll here a tale.”

 

Bobby Riley plays along, “A tale of a fateful match.”

 

“That started from this Indy Town.”

 

“Where heads were surely bashed.”

 

“Two of them were mighty nuts.”

 

“The other just a hick.”

 

“But what the hell do you want?”

 

“A hotdog on a stick.”

 

“Two falls this match shall have.”

 

“The US strap up first.”

 

“You’d think that would be enough.”

 

“But there’s more and it’s not worse.”

 

“A fight against Grappler for his belt.”

 

“You think they’ll make him sweat?”

 

“He is as hairy as a mule.”

 

“But he kind of makes me wet.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Comet stops, “I think that’s enough singing… forever. Funyon, please end this horrible awkward silence.”

 

Funyon has no trouble with that plan, “Ladies and gentlemen, this match is to be contested under Triple Threat rules and is scheduled for two falls. The first fall will be for the SWF USJL Championship and the second will be determine the number one contender to the SWF ICTV Title to be contested at a later date. Introducing first!”

 

With the sounds of Sara Evan’s ‘Perfect’ playing through the arena, the Indiana crowd starts to rise up a bit as they hear a dull buzz coming through the arena. It does not take long to reveal just who the culprit of this noise pollution is though. Driving through the curtain comes the happy and smiling face of ‘The Coyote’ Coy West riding along in what a working man might call one heck of a John Dear Tractor! Wearing a baseball cap with that very same logo across his head, Coy drives and waves as the Indiana crowd laughs in appreciation for the moonshine-drinking warrior. Stopping at the base of the ring, Coy stands up tall on top of his seat and pulls the cap off his mullet as the crowd continues to have a good old happy time of the Jeff Foxworthy routine come to life. Tossing the hat into the crowd; West finally slides underneath the bottom rope and into the ring as Funyon calls out to the crowd once again.

 

“Introducing first, he weighs in tonight at 241 pounds. Hailing from the beautiful S. S. General Lee Jr. this is ‘The Coyote’ COYYYYYYYYYY WESSSSSSSSSSST! And his opponent…”

 

As the lights in the arena fade, the crowd responds positively once again to the sounds of boots rising and falling against a hard concrete floor. With the lights sliding into a pale green, a few choice statistics start to move across the SmarkTron.

 

[HEIGHT: 7'2]

 

[WEIGHT: 320lbs]

 

The camera pulls back from the site of rising and falling feet to see a particularly tall man standing even taller with a white trench coat pulled over his shoulders. Walking towards the screen, the site of this man is quickly illuminated in a bright bloody red as two words no one wants to see are sent across the screen.

 

[sTATUS: RELEASED]

 

I stand firm in my solidarity...

The path I walk...

(The path I walk)...

I walk in with my own resolve...

 

When darkness falls...

(When darkness falls)...

We are reborn...

A dream since the fall of man...

We are reborn...

 

Walking out through the apron stomps the living form of the man we just saw on the screen. Twice as big in real life, the man called Janus stalks down the aisle and to the side of the ring. Pulling off his trench coat and putting it on the steps, Bailey rolls underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Seeing the man he rendered unconscious a few short weeks ago in a hardcore match, Janus gives Coy and the crowd a high thumbs up. Walking to one side, Janus folds his arms together and settles into a corner as receives his introduction…

 

“Weighing in at 320 pounds and hailing from Sydney, Australia… This is ‘The ANTI-HEEL MACHINE’ JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANUS!”

 

Cracking his neck from one side to the other like a guy out of one of those martial arts films, Terrence Bailey looks on at his own reflection in the SmarkTron for a moment as…

 

- Crackle… Crackle -

 

The screen starts to move in a way that is commonly associated with someone kicking his or her satellite dish, fluttering up and down in a way that nature and Direct TV did not intend. But all is going according to the plans of The Experiment. The Experiment created and controlled by the voice of Andrew Blackwell. The voice we hear now…

 

"There is nothing wrong with your television set.“

 

“Do not attempt to adjust the picture."

 

“I will control the horizontal.”

 

“I will control the vertical.”

 

“I am controlling transmission."

 

The SmarkTron reception returning to normal, Sacred walks out through the curtains much tot he dismay of the Indianapolis crowd. Not exactly being able to pick a favorite between West and Bailey, the crowd has absolutely no problem deciding that they do not want Andrew Blackwell to come out of this match ahead. But it is clear, just by the way he walks, that Sacred does not give two shakes of a lamb tail about the crowd’s feelings. Walking through the spotlights, Sacred moves into the ring with the grace of a jungle cat. Slinking through the middle ropes, Sacred goes eye-to-eye-to-eye with his two opponents. Passing his USJL Title over to referee Eddy Long, Sacred leans backward into the ropes. Stretching his back out by rocking back and forth against the strand, Blackwell looks as calm as the grave as Funyon finishes his announcements.

 

“And finally, weighing in at 215 pounds and hailing from Adelaide, Australia. He is the reigning SWF USJL Champion… ‘THE SACRED’ ANDREW BLACKWELL!”

 

“Now there might just be some people out there that think that Blackwell is going into this match up a bit of a underdog against two men of similar dispositions,” notes The Cyclone Comet. “But I would be remiss if I did not mention that both Janus and Sacred did not hail from the same country. I also have to note that Bailey recently managed to render Coy unconscious with the bear hug. So you might just see one really even up battle between three very even men.”

 

Riley returns the save, “This will be a battle of convenience more than anything. If any two of these men decide to jump the other one, the alliance will only last until it is no longer worth having. None of these guys wouldn’t turn on you in a minute depending on their mood, their personality, or the brand of chewing tobacco they had for brunch.”

 

DING! DING!

 

Signaling for the bell, Eddy Long steps out of the way and allows the three men in the match the proper room to get to their business. This first fall being for Sacred’s SJUS championship, he is the first to actually make a move as tries to meet the eyes of Coy West. Pointing to Coy and then to himself, Sacred suggests that the two of them start off working against the 7’2” monster that is still just standing in his corner with his arms folded up across his chest. Not really waiting for the two men to come up with a meeting of the minds, Janus bounds out of the corner and knocks Sacred down to the canvas with a hard boot across the chest. Getting his hands up to block the majority of the impact, Sacred is still sent down to a canvas and goes rolling into the far corner. Quickly grabbing Sacred by the head, Bailey shoves the USJL Champion back into the corner and readies a clubbing forearm for the head of his opponent. But as Janus’ hand is still coming back, he finds his arm hooked from behind!

 

BAM!

 

Turning around from the force of the pull, Janus turns head on into the right hand of ‘The Coyote’. Battering Janus back on his heels with punches of plenty, Coy actually manages to knock the big man backward and pin Sacred in the corner underneath the 320 pounds of the member of The Unholy Trinity. Grabbing Janus by the wrist, Coy begins to whip Bailey across the ring with an Irish whip but reverses the move in midstream in order to plunge Janus right back into the body of the struggling Blackwell!

 

“Oh squishy!” remarks The Cyclone Comet as Andrew is seemingly engulfed by the bulk of the Anti-Heel Machine. “Coy West is doing his best to fight both men at the same time. I just have to wonder just how long that sort of strategy can work. Janus and Sacred may not like each other, but they are going to like West a whole lot less the more he uses them against each other this way.”

 

Stumbling out of the corner with his wits still a bit scattered, the mammoth man finds himself a bit out of sorts as Coy sends his 240 pounds into the ropes and comes crashing into Janus with a clothesline high across the shoulders. Only knocked back a few inches, Bailey is still knocked a bit loopy by the blow. So much in fact that it gives Coy the opening he needs to deliver a rounding kick to the back of Janus’ calf and send the big man down to a knee. Once again skipping into the ropes for momentum, Coy strikes hard again with a clothesline hard enough to send the big man down flat to the canvas! But that victory aside, West still has problems as he barely feels the footfalls of the Sacred One stalking him from behind. Turning just in time to feel a forearm to the side of the head, West is stunned for a moment as Blackwell pushes him back against the ropes and starts to whip Coy across the ring. But West still has the senses about him to stand firm and send Blackwell into the ropes instead. Then using the momentum of the whip to his advantage, Coy elevates Andrew over his head with a military press. Not one to show off for long, Coy instead dumps Blackwell … on his face… right on top of Janus!

 

BOOOOOOM!

 

“What a move!” calls out The Comet. “Coy just used Sacred as an unwilling partner to hit Bailey with a swan dive headbutt! This could be all!”

 

With Sacred rolling to the mat with a hand on his face, West immediately drops on his knees and tries to grab as big a piece of Janus as he can to keep the big man down for a USJL Championship win.”

 

ONNNNNNNNNNNNE!

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

TNOOONOTTHATFAST!

 

Kicking out with plenty of time to spare, Bailey shucks off West in order to stop Long’s count. Rolling off his larger opponent, West starts to pull Janus up to his rather ample feet all the while striking away with two rather heavy right hands to the side of the head. Now all the way up to his feet, Janus is sent into the ropes as West looks to add a little more aggression to his already impressive start to this contest. But as West sees the huge body of Janus coming right back at him, he does not have the time to react as Janus lowers a shoulder and simply plows right through West with a…

 

“GORE! GORE! GORE!”

 

Hitting the lanky Coy right in the midsection, Janus folds West into the neatest little pile that the wily Coyote has ever been in his entire life. Quickly moving up to his feet after making him a nice little pile of redneck, Bailey takes a moment to collect himself. But that proves to be a moment long enough for Sacred to take advantage and drive a knee right into the kidney area of the big man. Dropping down to a knee for a moment, Janus cannot provide an adequate defense as Sacred moves around to the front and lays a chop across the chest of the big man.

 

CHOP!

 

CHOP!

 

Rising up to his full height, Janus still wobbles a bit as Sacred rips another layer of flesh off his scarred chest with another knife-edge from way down town.

 

CHOP!

 

But Janus just knocks his freaking block off with the knuckle bomb!

 

BOOOM!

 

Knocked flat on his ass by the almighty strike, Sacred finds that his face is very nearly numb from the raw force behind the blow that just took his head clean off. Shaking out his own knuckle from the impact, Janus looks down at the SJUS Champion with a little bit of disdain as he wonders where he should next attack. Grabbing his fellow Australian off the canvas, Janus grabs Andrew Blackwell around the waist and sets him up for what might just be a powerbomb. But as he hauls Blackwell up to his shoulders, it is quite obvious that Bailey is instead setting his foe up for the spinal division variation of the train wreck backbreaker. But before Janus can even fall down to his knees and complete the move, he feels his prey pulled loose from his grip as West pulls Sacred out of his clutches by the leg. Turning around to see just what has happened, Janus is struck in the face with a right hand. Quickly helping out in this sudden cause, Sacred leans into Bailey as well and jams a forearm into Bailey’s craw as well. Back and forth West and Sacred take turns battering the big man with as much force as they can muster.

 

“This is just what these two should be doing,” rants The Cyclone Comet. “Faced with a superior foe, Sacred and West need to pool their forces if they want to take Janus down here in this two fall contest.”

 

Finally working together as well as a makeshift team can, West and Sacred gather a plan between them and immediately hook Bailey around the head with a double front facelock. And with both men working together, they manage to force Janus up and over with a huge double vertical suplex! Crashing into the mat with all of his 320 pounds behind him, Bailey feels his spine bend in shock from the throw. Rising up to their feet together, West and Sacred share a look that betrays the fact that these men are always but a hair away from turning on each other. But the unit holds together a might bit longer as they silently resolve to give a repeat performance of the suplex they just performed. Again battering Janus the entire way up to his feet, the erstwhile compatriots hooks Terrence Bailey around the head once again in what is sure to be bad news for the ‘Anti-Heel Machine.’

 

 

 

As though he didn’t already get that message.

 

 

 

Flexing his huge muscles in response to feeling his two opponents on his head again, Janus squeezes his men down in response. Showing off all the power in the world, Janus works both men into the air with an unbelievable double suplex that sends both men flopping to the canvas with a resounding crash!

 

“SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS AND MARY!” squirts The Comet. “Janus just threw 460 pounds over his head like it was nothing!”

 

With all three men on the canvas, the referee looks for any sign of life only to see Bailey rise up to his feet as though an electric shock was just sent through his system. Virtually shaking from the adrenaline rush of the situation, Janus explodes on the rising West by grabbing him by the mullet and crushing him in the face with a huge headbutt. Snatching Sacred as the SJUS Champion gets moving, Janus provides a second performance as he mangles Sacred with another headbutt that comes in right on the bridge of his nose. Collecting Coy as he gets up to his feet, Terrance flicks him across the ring to a corner with an Irish whip as the crowd really starts to get behind the power displays of the monster Janus. Quickly grabbing Sacred underneath the armpit, Bailey heaves the smaller grappler into the corner opposite of West in order to set up a little something special for the entire audience not only in attendance but watching at home as well.

 

“Oh man… The Janus Train is getting steamed up now!”

 

Chugging in place for a moment, Janus get a full head of fire going and he goes rushing across the ring and smashes into West with a charging corner lariat! Moving the entire ring a few inches in the process, Bailey looks back across the ring towards Blackwell before going across the ring to meet him with another hard corner lariat that knocks Sacred all the way off his feet and to his seat in the corner. Snatching his head back to his original target, Janus once again starts across the ring for another lariat only to get met halfway with a knee to the head! Wandering out to the middle of the ring in a minor haze, Janus keeps a big eye on West as the ‘Coyote’ pops into the ropes for some momentum. But as he runs right back into the clutches of the big man, Coy realizes it might have been a better idea just to get the hell out of the ring.

 

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

 

“SPINEBUSTAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

 

Snapped into the canvas with all the force of a rhino, West feels his insides breaking into pieces as Janus pops right back up to his feet with a mighty roar. Immediately pulling Coy off the canvas by the back of the head, Janus scoops the smaller man up into his arms and starts to put on the squeeze.

 

“BEAR HUG! BEAR HUG! This was enough to knock West plum out last time!”

 

Unable to capture both of Coy’s arms, Janus nonetheless yanks his opponent from side to side with a ruthless efficiency. Squeezing the life out of West in the process, Bailey keeps wrenching his prey for a moment more before snatching West up and off the canvas. Holding Coy there finally Janus seeks to just add more and more pressure now and put his opponent away as Coy visibly leans into him trying to find some manner of escape. Using his free arms, Coy tries to batter Janus about the head only to have the mammoth continue to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. Feeling his back and ribs starting to give way though, West decides that he simply doesn’t have time to be nice about this anymore.

 

“He’s biting him! He’s giving Bailey rabies!”

 

“Will you stop!”

 

Sinking his teeth into the eye socket of even the mighty Anti-Heel Machine proves to be an effective way of escape. Letting West loose rather than risk the eye, Janus lets the wily Coyote back down on the canvas as falls blindly backward into the ropes and tumbles out in between them to the apron! Back on terra firma however, West tries to find his wind again after having so much of it ripped away from him by the power of the monster. Arching in residual pain, West tries to pull his battered body together as he stumbles around.

 

 

AND RIGHT INTO SACRED!

 

 

“SPANISH INQUISITION!”

 

 

Clutching West around the shoulder, Blackwell pulls West off the canvas and jams him into the mat with the rock bottom! Immediately floating over the top, Sacred hooks up West every which way he can as Eddy Long slides into position and makes the…

 

 

 

ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE!

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

DING! DING!

 

“The winner of the first fall and STILL USJL CHAMPION… SAAAAAAACRED ANDREW BLACKWELLLLLLL!”

 

“Beautiful,” says Bobby Riley as the crowd groans at the sudden pin. “Now with that out of the way, Andrew Blackwell has already retained the USJL Title and now has the chance to go for the bonus. One more win and Sacred will get another shot at Charlie Matthews who defeated Blackwell not all that long ago.”

 

“That is sadly true,” laments The Cyclone Comet. “But Sacred was only really able to keep Coy down due to the fact that Janus squeezed the life out of him prior. And while the big man was blinded, Blackwell took advantage.”

 

“That’s what you have to do in a match like this… WOAH match is back on!”

 

The ten second-rest period now over, Eddy Long once again calls for the bell to get the second fall underway.

 

DING! DING!

 

And Sacred immediately tries to cover West up again to sweep the match!

 

ONNNNNNNNNNNNE!

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

THNOOJANUSSAVES!

 

 

Still half blinded by the Coyote, Janus still has enough sense about him to get into the ring and kick Sacred across the face and break up the pin. Rolling off his intended prey, Blackwell slides all the way out of the ring secure in the knowledge that he has already managed to protect his precious USJL Title strap. Coy West however has a really large problem on his hands. He has a partially blinded and completely pissed off Anti-Heel Machine that does not take kindly to getting bit around the eye. Wiping the pain out of the socket, Janus looks with his healthy eye at the scampering Sacred until turning it back onto the prone and exhausted Coyote. Reaching down with one powerful paw, Bailey clamps down across the windpipe of his adversary and plucks him right off the canvas by the neck! Holding Coy by the throat, Janus grimaces in complete fury as he completely hauls all 240 pounds of Coy West off the canvas and spikes him right back down to the mat with a massive chokeslam!

 

“Christ on a cracker,” mumbles The Cyclone Comet. “If Coy wasn’t knocked loopy before that he sure as hell is now. Janus and Sacred are going to end up playing a pretty damn series game of picking the bones. Even with the USJL title secure, I am sure Sacred won’t just le Bailey get that shot at The Grappler without a fight.”

 

And Blackwell proves The Comet to be quite prophetic as Sacred jumps into the ring and immediately strikes Janus from behind with a forearm before the big man can even apply a cover to the now nearly unconscious Coy West. Pulling his body along with him, Coy only barely manages to get his way out of the path of the two far more able wrestlers that are now battling it out for the ICTV contender’s spot. Turning the big man into him, Sacred jams his forearm right into the sore spot around Janus’ eye. Effected far more by the surgical strike than anything else that has hit him in this match thus far, Janus turns his back to Blackwell as he stumbles into the ropes in the hope that he can clear his vision from this attack. But Sacred allows no such respite as he reaches around the big man’s head and starts to rip at his eyes in order to further blind his much larger opponent. Turning into his aggressive opponent, Bailey swings at Blackwell only to find the quicker man easily duck underneath the clumsy knuckle bomb. Rising up and into the big man yet again, Sacred jams a thumb into the wounded eye yet again and causes the giant to only be further wounded.

 

Bobby talks, “Andrew Blackwell needs to keep on that eye. He might not be a physical match for the big guy. But with Janus’ eye all screwed up, Sacred has the edge he needs to take this match away from everyone who ever doubted him.”

 

Grabbing the blinded Janus around the head, Sacred uses his leverage to shuck the big man up and over his shoulder with a snap mare into the center of the ring. Easily bounding into the ropes, Blackwell comes back at Bailey before jamming a knee right into the eye of his giant foe. Screaming out in pain, Janus explodes to his feet swinging away at any shape that looks like it might belong to Blackwell only to have the wily veteran stay well out of the range of the big man. Dropping down to a knee in a corner, Janus paws at his eye yet again in a attempt to clear his vision only to have Sacred pounce on him with a headlock. Holding onto Bailey with that arm, Sacred uses the other t pound away at the eye with a number of incredibly hard and short punches to the socket. But while Blackwell is latched onto his head, Janus is finally close enough to get his hands on his opponent. Using that to his advantage, Bailey simply tosses Sacred away and across the ring with scary power. Immediately rising up to his feet despite that, Sacred charges right back at Janus and right back into the boot of his huge rival!

 

BOOM!

 

Driven backward to the mat from the shot to the head, Sacred immediately tries to roll out of the range of the blind and very angry man only to find out that Janus still has one good eye that he can use to spot his foe. Rapping his big arms around Blackwell, Janus buts the squeeze on his opponent for a moment with a bear hug before arching backward and toss Blackwell overhead with a belly-to-belly suplex! Turning his fresh eye about the ring, Bailey catches view of an exhausted Coy West only now pulling himself up to the apron after the beating he took in the minutes prior to this moment. Now normally, Bailey might have a bit of sympathy but with a bloody eye, Janus isn’t really isn’t in the mood to be generous. Moving over to his prey, Janus bashes in Coy’s face with a hard right hand to the head that knocks Coy right off the apron and to the arena floor!

 

“Damn that redneck bastard just can’t just catch a break here tonight can he,” laughs Bobby Riley. “Coy West might as well stay down and let this match come down to Blackwell and Janus. He won’t be beating anyone here tonight.”

 

Moving back over to Sacred, Janus drives his boot into the chest of his opponent and knocks the USJL champion off the mat with the force of the blow. Grabbing Andrew by the head, Janus doubles him over at the waist before kicking him in the chest once again before knocking the smaller opponent down to the canvas. Still keeping a hand on his eye, Janus still continues to move about taking Blackwell all the way out of this match with another display of awesome power. Easily just muscling Blackwell up and over his head, Janus shows off all of his ability as he shows Sacred off to the Indiana crowd with a military press. But as Janus holds Sacred over his head, the resourceful grappler reaches around Janus’ head and once again jams his fingers into the eye of the big man causing Bailey to drop to the canvas with Blackwell right on top!

 

ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE!

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

THREENOOOOOOOJANUSKICKSOUT!

 

Still able to use his arms, Janus presses all 220 pounds of his opponent into the air and to the canvas in order to keep this match underway. But the advantage now rests with Blackwell as he immediately gets right back on Janus and again begins to gouge the eyes much to the dismay of the crowd and the admonishment of the official. Grabbing Janus off the mat, Sacred stands the big man up before springing into the air and cracking Janus right in the face with an astounding dropkick. The force of the blow ends up flipping Sacred all the way over and neatly onto his knees as Janus falls back down to the mat in a rather large pile. Jaunting up to his feet, Sacred hops from one foot to the other in a rapture knowing that Charlie Matthews is only a few moments away from having a new top contender. Stepping behind Janus and to the left, Sacred looks at Janus with a smile as the big man slowly starts to pull himself up to his knees. Running up from the blind side, Blackwell snatches Janus around the head and jams him into the canvas yet again with a RKO!

 

“Oh damn!” remarks Bobby Riley as Sacred spikes Terrence Bailey into the mat face first. “This match is all but over, I can smell it!”

 

And Riley is not the only one! Immediately straddling Janus from behind, Sacred pulls his arms behind his body and into a double chicken wing. Cinching the arms up as tightly as he can, Blackwell hurdles forward and finally locks down on the big man with the feared submission hold taught to him by his brother… The Narcosynthesis! Bridging up on his toes, Sacred pulls Bailey’s arms apart as the big man screams out in pain as he feels even his mammoth shoulders start to pull apart! And knowing that Janus is simply in no condition to counter out of the hold, Andrew Blackwell simply begins to visibly laugh at the thought of making the big man tap out!

 

“Give it up you pituitary freak!” laughs Bobby Riley as Sacred continues to hold the big man down on the canvas with a perfectly executed Cattle Mutilation. “You aren’t getting out of this! You can’t!”

 

“He might not have too!” emotes the Comet, “Look! Coy West is up!”

 

In fact Coy seems to be heading way up, all the way up to the top turnbuckle! Shakily moving his way up, West looks down into the middle of the ring. And while Janus holds on despite all the pain, Sacred has no idea that West now has a completely open shot at him! Virtually plunging off the top to the roar of the crowd, West slams into Sacred’s already arched ribs with a perfectly square elbow drop to the ribs! Obviously breaking up the Narcosynthesis, Coy pulls Andrew away from Janus and makes the cover for...

 

 

ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

Funyon calls into his stick as West “The winner of the second fall and the NEW number one contender to the SWF ICTV title… THE COYOTE … COYYYYYYYYYY WESSSSSSSSST!”

 

“I … I … simply can’t believe that!” roars Bobby Riley, “Coy was done! Finished! Out of it completely!”

 

“He didn’t suspect the blow,” calls out The Comet, “Sacred had no opportunity to brace for the impact of that elbow. Both he and Janus forgot all about Coy and he sneaked one in on both of them.”

 

Pulling his body up to his feet, Coy allows the referee to raise his arm up to the air much to the delight of the crowd. Dropping his hands down onto his knees, West takes a moment to collect his wind once again after suffering such a beating from Janus in this match.

 

WHAM!

 

I guess it was Sacred’s turn! Cracking West from behind with a running forearm, Blackwell knocks Coy down to the mat. Immediately putting the boots to the victor of the second fall, Blackwell lets loose with all the rage put there by the rampaging redneck. Relatively uninjured from that elbow drop despite it causing his defeat in this contest, Sacred almost easily pulls Coy up to his feet before sending him into the ropes. Immediately exploding backward into the ropes himself, Blackwell crashes into West at the waist with the Kamikaze spear! Folding up at the waist yet again, West is virtually cut in half as Sacred drives his nasty ass into the canvas with all of his 216 pounds behind it.

 

“Come on referee,” shouts The Comet as Sacred grabs a hold of the top rope and starts to stomp away at West once again, “Sacred has gone all the way off his damn rocker!”

 

“Well here comes the poster boy for that!”

 

Grabbing Sacred from behind, the monster Janus shoves him right over the top rope and to the arena floor. Despite all the pain in both of Janus’ shoulders, the big man still stands tall in the center of the ring as Sacred lands in a heap on the outside of the ring. Almost immediately finding his feet, Blackwell starts to stumble away from his two opponents as Janus wanders about the ring for a moment while Coy pulls himself up with the use of the ropes.

 

“Now… This is interesting. I hope Janus kills that bastard too!”

 

Locking eyes with West, Janus points at his eye with a snarl across his lips. Looking one way and then the other, West joins eyes with his opponent and shrugs as if to apologize for having to stoop so low. Mouthing the words ‘sorry’, Coy just sort of shakes his head at Janus. But Janus… seems to be over it. Shrugging back at West, Janus looks at Coy as if to say ‘hey, I have a cricket bat with barbed wire on it, how can I hold a grudge?’ Shaking hands with the winner of the second fall, Bailey leaves Coy alone in the center of the ring as he steps over the top rope as the camera begins to fade to black…

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The screen returns to life and we are back at the Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis, Indiana. The roaring crowd acknowledges their presence on camera and try hard to bring their signs out for the fans to see. One kid has a sign that says… hey look music is playing! The melodical opening notes to Andrew W.K.'s "Ready to Die" play over the speakers.

 

Comet: “Welcome back to SWF Storm! It looks like our very own Mike Van Siclen is coming out!”

 

Riley: “MVS maybe a little shaken up… but he is here to play!”

 

The commentators are cut off by the drums drop in...

 

BOOM BOOM

 

BOOOOOOOM!

 

After three bursts of white pyro, Mike Van Siclen emerges through the third curtains and smoke, wearing a half hearted grin as the music continues to blast. Van Siclen walks down to the ring, coldly ignoring the fans reaching out to slap his hands. His eyes are focused on the ring, and he keeps his pace as Funyon announces him.

 

Funyon: “Introducing first! He hails from Harrison, Illinois. He stands at Six feet and weighs in at 231 pounds… he is ‘the Spectacle,’ MIKE… VAN… SICLEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

MVS slides into the ring, and as the crowd boos, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle. He throws his arms into the air, but instead of getting the pop he wants, he just hears more booing. Frustrated by the lack of fan empathy, he hops off the turnbuckle and paces around the ring.

 

Comet: “MVS has been having some ups and downs as of late. While he pulled one of the upsets of all upsets, with a win against Tom Flesher.”

 

Riley: “A clean win… so good not even you can find fault you mask wearing freak.”

 

Comet: “Right you are, Hummers. Mike was unable to out perform Charlie Matthews at the Clusterfuck. Also just last week despite a hard fought battle, he went onto lose to newcomer Toxxic.”

 

Riley: “He not only lost… he got the Toxxic Shock Syndrome thrugh a table! Now he has to face the infamous question mark man! Nine times out of ten, this guy turns out to be one lethal master. I can’t wait to see who Commissioner Stevens has assigned this match to!” 

 

Comet: “So Mike has the disadvantage of recently falling victim to a table plunge, and the painful mystery of not knowing who your opponent is.”

 

The lights fall to pure darkness, but recovers some of its shades as the crowd flicks out their lighters and anything capable of glowing in the dark. The crowd applauds out of the intrigue and knowledge that the mystery man shall soon be revealed.

 

Comet: “I’ve checked all my sources, and it seems this man’s identity is one tightly sealed secret.”

 

Riley: “I know, it’s like he just popped up out of nowhere.”

 

Comet: “Due to the fact of all the recent signings, the fact this is a question mark man at least gives us the benefit of knowing he is a returning superstar.”

 

The rocking sounds of 311’s “Creatures for a While kicks up over the speakers and the crowd continues to roar in anticipation as to who he/she is. Two hands appear barely visible through the curtains, and they spread them apart with a clean sweep. The one responsible steps forward, and to some’s disappointment remains unidentified. The figure stands completely covered in a black, hooded robe. The bottom of his lower lip and chin is all that’s visible as he walks forward with his head down.

 

Funyon: “And his opponent! He stands at Six feet Four inches… weighing in at 240 pounds! And that’s all the information I’ve been given!”

 

Comet: “It looks like Funyon knows about as much as we do!”

 

The crowd begins to cheer a bit for the mystery fellow, as he walks down the isle. Taking slow, purposeful strides in flowing rhythm with the catchy music.

 

Riley: “That robe is so baggy, we know his total measurements, but how is it proportioned out?”

 

The hooded question mark man walks to his left of the entrance, and uses the steps to help him up onto the ring apron. He enters through the middle ropes, his hands being the only other part of the article that reveals anything as they grab the middle rope.

 

Comet: “This guy might not even want to reveal himself today!”

 

Riley: “Believe me… if he doesn’t reveal himself, Siclen will get that robe off him!”

 

The two men stand apart in the ring. Siclen giving the man in a robe a bit of space. The figure guides his hood in Funyon’s direction and extends his right arm out. It doesn’t take Funyon much to figure out he wants the microphone.

 

Comet: “It looks like we’ll all get an answer at the sametime.” 

 

Siclen looks on in curiosity as the mystery man stands in the center of the ring; his head is down but barely noticed as the hood covers his face. Funyon hands the man the microphone and slides out of the ring. Bringing the mic to his mouth, he opens his barely visible mouth and speaks to the crowd at hand.

 

???: “I’ve asked myself deep down inside… if this is where I want to be! I looked out at the people running this fed and wondered if it was right… WAIT UNTIL THEY GET A LOAD OF ME!!

 

The skills that come across… my ability to go hardcore all the way… I watch this fed and I’ve beat the best… and I’ll beat the so called best you have to offer! In the SWF… the more things change… the more they stay the same.”

 

Comet: “I recognize that voice… but it can’t be!”

 

The man in the robe lets his fists and wrists pop out, clenching them tightly…

 

???: “One thing that will never change! I STILL HAIL FROM VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA!! I’M STILL YOUR FUCKING HARDCORE MANIAC!!!”

 

Comet: “It is him!”

 

Riley: “No <BEEP>ing way!”

 

“AND!!- ”

 

-SMACK!!

 

However Siclen has heard enough and cuts the man off with a hard right hand, amplified deeply with the assistance of the microphone. Dropping the mic, the man in the robe takes a step back.  Siclen pushes him into the ropes and looks for a quick launch to the otherside. However at the end of the whip, no separation occurs, instead the man twists the arm of Siclen with an arm wringer, and pulls him into a reverse elbow. Siclen stays standing but a little dummied. The right arm of the hooded figure extends outward, it’s fingers even making a point to flex as the palm thrusts forward…

 

-Driven right into the solar plexus of MVS! The victim’s eyes bulge out after absorbing the winding blow and he staggers backwards into the corner. The man picks up the microphone and rips off his robe so the crowd can shout with him.

 

“AND

 

THIS

 

IS

 

MAH

 

HOUSE!!!”

 

The crowd cheers in approval as in the center of the ring; decked in a pair of baggy, black wrestling pants albeit a shorter haircut; is the Hardcore Maniac himself, Jamie Drazon.

 

Comet: “Jamie Drazon has returned to the SWF!”

 

Riley: “Bah… who says we need a change!?”

 

Drazon charges into the corner as the crowd continues it’s nostalgia pop. Siclen regains his breath and senses in time to see Drazon charging for him. It doesn’t take Mike long to figure he’ll be in the worst of this situation and sidesteps to safety…

 

CRASH

 

Drazon crushes the top half of his chest into the turnbuckles, sending reverberating shakes across his whole body. JD grits his teeth and clenches the top ropes with both hands, absorbing the blow before snapping his head in Siclen’s direction and flashing a demonic grin. 

 

Siclen uses the smile as target practice and connects with a palm thrust to Drazon’s jaw. Siclen pulls Drazon out of the corner and fires him off the near ropes. JD with a bounce back and MVS knocks him down with a clothesline. Upon hitting the mat, Drazon sits right back up to the crowd’s delight.

 

Comet: “MVS is going to take it to Jamie Drazon! Normally the best thing to do, but while taking punishment, Drazon might still have his machinelike tendencies!”

 

Riley: “Well, Siclen gives up about ten pounds to JD, but these men are physically matched.”

 

Drazon is quick enough to get to his feet before Siclen arrives, and blocks two punches to his mid-section. However MVS is able to squeak a shot into his head. The physical distraction is enough for MVS as he gingerly steps around to Drazon’s back and applies a rear waistlock. Struggling slightly, MVS can’t decide what to do.

 

Drazon grapevines his right leg into Siclen’s right, preventing himself from going for a ride. He clenches his hands onto the wrists of Siclen’s and squeezes tightly before prying them apart. Drazon pries the arms about a half a foot apart before Siclen shows some power of his own, pushing towards relocking the waistlock. Not wanting to waste his energy or time powering out, Drazon fires back with a headbutt-

 

CRACK

 

Catching Siclen in the forehead. Stunned, Siclen takes a moment to uncross his eyes only to receive a back elbow to the jaw. Drazon shifts his hip inward and locks Siclen into a ¾ nelson facelock, and flips him forward with a snapmare. 

 

Comet: “Shortcut by JD there, but legal and effective!”

 

Riley: “Whatever, Siclen was clearly overpowering him, so JD hit him with a cheapshot!”

 

Siclen rolls through after hitting the mat, returning to his feet. However before extending to his full vertical, Drazon pulls the doubled over Siclen into a headscissors. MVS lifts straight up, allowing some fans to gasp as JD goes for a ride, but JD rolls sideways along Siclen’s back and gently falls to his feet. The crowd cheers while Siclen pivots around, already knowing that Drazon hasn’t suffered the effects he planned. JD jabs MVS in the jaw with a left, and pulls back for a haymaking right, mouthing out inaudibly what he plans to do. Except MVS returns with a heavy knee into Drazon’s mid-section, catching him by surprise and leaving him standing prone for Siclen’s mercy.

 

Comet: “Quicker reactions by MVS. Drazon although prepared, is showing some signs of ring rust.”

 

Riley: “MVS was just a hair quicker and smarter. That’s all.”

 

Siclen pulls JD in for a front facelock, extending his free arm out to wave to the crowd. He gets a negatively mixed reaction but shrugs it off, allowing himself to grab the waist of Drazon’s pants. Drazon hooks his left arm into the right arm of Siclen, loosening the facelock. JD pulls the wrist down before slipping out of the facelock and sidesteps behind Siclen, pulling his arm behind him and into a four, with a belly to back waistlock/hammerlock combo. Giving the arm a tug, JD sends the jolt of pain into Siclen’s shoulder before releasing the hammerlock and lifting him straight into the air-

 

-and slamming Siclen into the mat hard with a backdrop suplex. The crowd cheers at the first actual impact move and continue to applaud as Drazon makes a cover, pressing his hands on Siclen’s chest.

 

One…

 

 

Tw… Siclen pulls his shoulder up. Drazon straightens out to his knees and cracks his neck while Siclen rolls the otherway.

 

Comet: “Drazon with the first cover of the evening, and wasn’t able to keep MVS down for two!”

 

Returning to his feet, JD saunters towards the ropes, getting a bit of momentum as he rebounds toward a crawling MVS. Drazon extends his right foot forward with the running Yakuza kick-

 

Crack!

 

Connecting hard enough to flip Mike down to his back, but not nearly with full power. Drazon stands over the lying still version of MVS and raises his right foot. Knowing full well this fight isn’t over, Drazon places his foot down over Mike Van Siclen’s chest anyway.

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

Siclen kicks out.

 

Comet: “Drazon has to be testing Siclen here. There’s no way that Yakuza kick had it’s full power, otherwise Mike wouldn’t be in this contest anymore!”

 

Riley: “If that kick was coming full power, there’s no way Mike would have let it hit him!”

 

Not surprised at the kickout, JD still shows a bit more aggression then before. Reaching down and digging his fingers into the head and face of Siclen with an Eagle’s claw, and pulls the man up, keeping him in a limited grip. The crowd begins to cheer as Drazon begins to harness his energy and concentration into one soul purpose. That purpose is the mechanical destruction of Mike Van Siclen. Holding him away about a foot and a half, his grip digging in further and further.

 

However Siclen doesn’t like this plan. In fact, Siclen has a plan of his own. Mustering up all his strength, he unleashes it with a powerful kick to Drazon’s mid-section. Drazon’s face turns bright red as he exhales in pain, shock and anger. Looking up with the intentions of murder, Drazon only spots Siclen heading down, grabbing the back of his head in the process. Unable to overbattle gravity, JD tries to soften the blow, but MVS is to quick, connecting with a sitout jawbreaker. Drazon’s jaw is crushed inward before the rest of his upperbody snaps upward, gagging at the sudden soft spot. Siclen rubs the top of his head for a second before somersaulting in reverse and returning to his feet.

 

Comet: “And Siclen is back in this battle!”

 

Riley: “As if he was ever out, even if it Jamie Drazon!”

 

Siclen swivels forward and spins before extending his leg out and kicking JD in the face with a wheel kick! Drazon staggers backward some more as Siclen rushes forward. Thinking quick, Drazon fires his knee out for a kitchen sink… however Siclen reacts even quicker, leaping over the knee and latching onto it as he rolls forward, grabbing the back of Drazon’s pants in the process and rolls him up. Siclen leans his entire body weight onto the back of Drazon’s thighs with a tightly sealed roll up.

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

 

Thr… Drazon gets the shoulder up! Free of the roll up, the camera catches the shock that goes through Drazon’s face.

 

Comet: “And just like that, Siclen almost walked away with the victory!”

 

Riley: “Drazon can’t believe he was able to pull that off!”

 

Not wanting to let that rollup get the better of him, Drazon returns to his feet to block Siclen’s on coming assault of punches. His barrier holds for the first three, but the determined Siclen connects with the face on the fourth. Siclen pulls his right hand back and shoots it forward. Sidestepping the blow, Drazon grabs Siclen’s wrist and guides him to the ropes. MVS lets his spine cross with the cables, JD thrusts forward with a clothesline, but Van Siclen ducks down and launches JD over the top rope in the process with a back body drop! 

 

Comet: “Drazon is dumped right in front of us!”

 

Drazon lies flat on the mat in between announce tables and the ring. Drazon remains lying, in frustration more then pain and bashes his fists into the floor. Drazon sits straight up to the surprising delight of the crowd and leaps onto the ring apron. Not quite noticing Siclen dashing to his adjacent side and leaping into the ropes…

 

SMACK

 

Siclen connects with his springboard dropkick and sends JD sailing a little faster this time…

 

SMACK

 

-into the announce table. The reinforcement of the table sends a shock across Drazon’s face and he curses out for many to hear his pain with him.

 

Comet: “Citizens at home, close your ears as Drazon’s verbal assault finishes!”

 

Riley: “Agreed! No need for language like that, he should be shot!”

 

Drazon coughs once, allowing a bloody spit to leave his mouth and right on the announce screen of Bobby Riley.

 

Riley: “You maniac! Look what you did to my screen!”

 

Comet: “That looked unintentional to me, Riley!”

 

Drazon shakes off the sting of the table, returning to his vertical base and shifts his attention back toward the ring. Siclen stands on the apron, waiting for the ring moment, and leaps off, connecting with an axe handle smash to Drazon’s forehead. Siclen rotates his shoulders in a flex as Drazon’s knees buckle out, dropping him down a foot. Siclen chuckles down at Drazon and pulls the man up off his knees and into a front facelock.

 

Comet: “Citizen Siclen looks a lot more confidant now!”

 

Riley: “Well duh! Drazon had the element of surprise going for him and is already a crazy motherf***er! However Siclen can deal with it!”

 

Drazon slips out of the facelock and pushes Siclen backward into the ringpost. Before impact, Siclen braces his fall by gently blocking with the back of his foot. Upset that he didn’t hear a loud ding, Drazon rushes forward with intent to assault. However Siclen is a hair quicker, dropping down and using simple gravity for JD’s enemy, trips him up with a drop toehold…

 

CLANG

 

-and Drazon smacks face/headfirst into the steps.

 

Riley: “OW!!”

 

Comet: “Drazon’s biggest enemy this whole match has been getting ahead of himself! It’s now starting to show some effects!”

 

As Drazon’s jaw swells up a bit, some more blood dribbles out of his mouth. Delighted with his crimson creation, MVS grabs JD by the rear of the waist and back of the cranium and rolls JD into the ring. Drazon gets tangled up in the bottom and middle rope as he tries to get in. Siclen ignores this as he steps through the middle ropes himself. Noticing the prone positioning of Drazon’s, being his top half inside and the bottom half out, the medium being the bottom rope. Not fully content with Drazon’s predicament, Siclen takes the opportunity to drop the leg onto the back of Drazon’s neck.

 

Comet: “The ring general MVS, taking advantage of each situation provided.”

 

Riley: “A good move one might say!”

 

Mike pulls Jamie away from the ropes and far enough away so Drazon can’t grab a hold. MVS then drops to his knees and makes a casual cover.

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

 

Th… but Drazon get his shoulder up, and spit a crimson loogey while he’s at it.

 

Comet: “MVS remains in control, but it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more then that to put Drazon down.”

 

Riley: “That was the Drazon of the old! I bet you he doesn’t have the resiliency he once had! MVS will put him away just like he did Tom Flesher!”

 

A little aggravated that JD kicked out, Siclen smacks his hand to the ref, letting him know he’d like a faster count. The ref shakes his head in response. Siclen pulls Drazon up and pops him with a shot to the jaw! A loud growl is his response, and Siclen realizes he’s suddenly in shit. Drazon fires back with a hard right hand, making solid connection with Siclen’s forehead and send him staggering back a step. Drazon reaches out with both hands, grabs a hold of Siclen’s hair and yanks MVS forward as he propels his own cranium forward…

 

CRAAAAAAACK!!!

 

The crowd roars and winces as Siclen immediately drops to the mat via result of a nasty headbutt. Drazon’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he growls louder for the crowd to cheer.

 

Comet: “What’s that you were saying about Drazon not being what he was!”

 

Riley: “Sure! He’s not that pissed, his pupils are gone, he’s merely showing off!”

 

The referee gives Drazon a warning about his tactics but the damage is already done. Drazon lets his eyelids shut again and reach down and pull Siclen back up by his hair. When Siclen reaches his feet, Drazon releases his grip on the locks and pulls MVS into a belly to belly waistlock. Letting his head slide under Van Siclen’s arm and cradles his left leg. Drazon proceeds to launch Siclen with a T-Bone suplex! Drazon suddenly kips up to his feet and receives applause. Looking towards the corner, Drazon looks to the Indianapolis fans and points towards, requesting their approval. The crowd roars in approval, which only prompts JD to shout.

 

“I WASN’T ASKING!! I WAS TELLING!!”

 

The crowd actually cheers Drazon’s arrogant response as he walks to the turnbuckles. 

 

Comet: “Drazon might be developing a following! He has been truly missed!”

 

Riley: “Don’t act like that! That is one of the nastiest, vicious, rowdiest S.O.B. in this joint!”

 

Grabbing the top rope on each side, Drazon leaps up, placing his feet onto it. He takes one more look down at the cataleptic MVS, measuring the distance, before taking the time to fly!

 

Comet: “We may see the Diving headbutt here!”

 

Drazon soars through the air, extending his arms out.

 

Riley: “MOVE MIKE!!”

 

Siclen suddenly snaps to life, spotting Drazon with his peripheral vision, Siclen rolls away to safety!

 

CRASH

 

“FUCK!!”

 

Landing with a loud smack on his face, Drazon explodes out with the loud curse while in mid-air from the bounce. MVS sucks up his strength and courage and pulls himself to his feet. He stumbles towards Drazon but wastes no time pulling him up and into a front facelock! Siclen throws his spare arm over the top of Drazon’s head and drives his elbow into it, then drives Drazon face first into the mat with a Code Red! Siclen goes to rolls Drazon over for the cover, but an idea pops into his head. He pushes off of JD and sprints to the corner, climbing the turnbuckles with a quick pace.

 

Comet: “What is Siclen doing!”

 

Riley: “Putting on the finishing touch!”

 

Comet: “He should have tried and pin JD, he may have had him!”

 

Riley: “Well this will definitely do it!”

 

MVS flashes a cocky grin to the crowd, getting a loud mixed reaction. With little hesitation, Van Siclen launches off the top rope, extending his legs…

 

Cyclone: “There he goes!”

 

BOOM

 

Connecting with a big time Guillotine leg drop!

 

Riley: “The Van Siclen Guillotine! That will be all my friend!”

 

Siclen lies with his back to the mat, feeling tensions in his back from impact. He rolls over and makes the cover, although sore, he remembers to hook the leg.

 

Comet: “That move took a bit out of Siclen, but it looks to be worth it!”

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE---NO!! Drazon forces his shoulder up. He growls lowly but still audible enough for the crowd to cheer. Siclen has his hands out clenched, his veins bulging as the blood is flowing through him. He glares with vicious intent at the referee, but receives only notice that this contest will continue.

 

Comet: “MVS is getting visibly upset here!”

 

Riley: “Well you would to! Despite all the disadvantages he’s been fed in this match, he’s still coming out on top only for Mr. Zebra to bloody well screw him!”

 

Drazon rolls onto his chest, pushing up with his hands for a second. Anger fueling him a little more, Siclen kicks Drazon right in the face. He looks down at his boot and spots some blood on it, so he decides to kick JD in the face again. Pulling his foot away, Siclen wipes the blood into the mat and pulls Drazon to his feet.

 

Comet: “Mike is getting a little nasty now!”

 

Riley: “He’s pissed that a hack like Drazon is still in this match! He’s going to make an example!”

 

Siclen makes an Irish whip off the ropes and ducks down as Drazon returns. Telegraphing the move light years in advance, Drazon stops short and instantly applies a front facelock to MVS. He takes a moment top pop his hips and flex his arms, choking a bit of life out of Siclen before sending him plummeting into the mat with an Evenflow DDT!

 

Comet: “The JD DDT!!”

 

The two men lie there as the crowd begins to cheer. The camera takes a look at the two men resting on the mat, taking their breaths. Siclen rolls onto his chest, trying to regain some of his wits. Eventually the camera closes in on Jamie’s face as he breaths some life back into himself and does the one thing they’ve been waiting to see. Drazon’s eyes snap open…

 

Comet: “Uh oh! I know that look!”

 

-and sits straight up! The audience roar with approval as they once more sees the menacing stare only possessed by JD. Returning to his feet, Drazon reaches down and grabs the hair of Van Siclen. Not one to go lightly, Siclen retaliates by socking JD in the jaw. A bit of blood flies out, but JD merely smiles as he fires back with a vicious elbow…

 

CRACK

 

MVS goes cross-eyed as Drazon grabs him by the throat and elevates him into the air with the Hangman’s choke. He hurls MVS into the corner, letting the ring shake as he crashes with the turnbuckles. Drazon claws his left hand out, digging it into the face of Siclen, and smashes him in the face with his right elbow!

 

CRACK!!

 

Comet: “I think Siclen stepped over the line with the kicks to the face! Drazon looks possessed!”

 

Riley: “He is possessed! He’s not going to stop now! That’s why the ref should have counted three earlier dammit! Oh shit… Mike…. Get out of there!”

 

Drazon digs his thumbs and fingers into the pressure points under Siclen’s jaw. Holding him in a painful brace as he thrusts his forehead forward, smashing it right between the eyes of MVS. The crack is not the exclamation point though, as Drazon decides to whip MVS off the ropes immediately afterward. Siclen flies off as Drazon extends his right leg with powerful yet elegant force…

 

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK

 

MVS spins a full 360 before crashing into the mat. Drazon stands with a little more ease, as he wipes the blood away from his mouth. He reaches down, grabbing the hair of Siclen.

 

“We ain’t finished yet!”

 

The crowd pops as Drazon pulls MVS promptly into a standing headscissors. As soon as Siclen’s body straightens out, JD leaps into the air, Siclen’s legs dangling over his back. Drazon goes the whole way down with Siclen, hammering his head into the mat with a nasty spike piledriver! Siclen bounces off the mat from impact and lies still on the mat. Drazon walks over and places his foot on his chest. Allowing the ref to drop to his knees.

 

Comet: “Oh my goodness! With the deadly execution like that, I don’t care if you are the Memphis Eel or the Hville Thugg, you ain’t kicking out!”

 

Riley: “Still one cocky cover!”

 

The ref goes to slam his hand into the mat, when JD shakes his head and pulls his foot off of Siclen’s chest. The crowd cheers shortly for it as Drazon looks at the area around him, nothing really specific, just enjoying the feeling of his eyes looking out in blind rage. He reaches down and pulls MVS off of the mat then hangs his arm over his head. Drazon hooks his leg and lifts MVS off the mat. Shifting his weight and throwing MVS over at the same time. JD takes a moment to pause with MVS on his shoulders.

 

“GANJA FILES!!!”

 

He shouts out loud to the crowd before flipping the final part of MVS forward, and crushes him into the mat with a vicious brainbuster ending!

 

Comet: “Oh my god! What was that!”

 

Riley: “That’s one warped looking move!”

 

Comet: “I guess it’s the exclamation point for JD!”

 

Drazon sits on the mat for a second, placing his wrists on his knees as he takes a deep breath. Finally he turns over and makes the cover on Siclen, casually hooking the leg.

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE!!!!

 

311’s “Creatures” hits the speakers to a loud ovation as the bell rings and the match is done.

 

Comet: “Jamie Drazon is back in the SWF, and looks to be in top form!”

 

Riley: “Whatever! Siclen was garbage, he should have finished him when he had the chance! Let’s see Drazon try those stunts with some of our other stars! You can guarantee he won’t get to the Unnamed like that! Why they’d send his ass straight back to Canada!”

 

Drazon returns to his feet as the ref helps Siclen roll out of the ring. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and the blood away from his mouth. A little bit touching his tongue, allowing him to grin slightly for some to see.

 

Funyon: “The winner of this match via pinfall! Welcome back to the SWF JAMIE DRAZON!!”

 

Drazon walks to the ropes, gripping onto the top rope, his eyes still wide open as he scans the crowd and opens one sadistic grin for them all to see. Finally he exits the ring and heads up the ramp.

 

Comet: “A competitive battle until the end! Drazon returned to his side that was missed shortly before he left! Good stuff here tonight!”

 

Riley: “Good stuff indeed! But stay tuned for the hardcore title match that is coming out next!”

 

Comet: “We’ll see John Duran vs. Aecas, we can guarantee that it will be great!”

 

Riley: “And maybe JD might learn a thing or to from the hardcore champ. How to be the truly hardcore!”

 

Comet: “Heh! We’ll see!” 

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SWF Storm returns from commercial, the cameras once again panning around the sold out Conseco Fieldhouse, the fans are on their feet and hyped as Storm marches ever on the arena practically buzzing. The cameras zoom over the fans for a few moments, drinking in the atmosphere of people who’ve seen a lot of action already and just keep wanting more, signs and cheers being raised as the camera view pans over the sea of faces. Eventually the camera view switches back to the announcer’s table as Cyclone Comet and his partner Bobby Riley get ready to continue calling the action.

 

“Hello everyone and welcome back to SWF Storm! We’ve already had a heck of a night so far folks and its only going to get better! As our Maine Event for tonight draws ever closer! A Six Person Tag team match up as Citizen Night, Citizen Onita and Citizen Matthews put aside their differences to take on the Unnamed here tonight!” says Comet enthusiastically, practically yelling into his headset as he’s as hyped up as the fans.

 

“Very true Comet, but the Unnamed sent a clear message to Dace Night on Smarckdown when they beat him down. And they had it all scoped out as neither Aecas nor Janus were in the building that night and there was nobody to back Dace Night up.”

 

“And the Trinity and the Unnamed are going to collide once again tonight Robert! Not just in tonight’s Main Event but in the next match as well as Citizen Duran defends his Hardcore Title against the Black Angel himself!”

 

“And this is where the problems continue Comet. Duran has already made his views publicly known about how he feels about getting into the ring against psychopaths like Janus and now he has to deal with Aecas tonight! A man who is arguably just as bad as Janus!”

 

“But citizen Aecas won this title shot fair and square Robert. He had to go through Citizen’s Manson and Rickmen to do it. Not an easy feat!”

 

“That’s not the point Comet this is unfair on Duran! We’ve seen what Aecas likes to do to people in and out of the ring during his time in the SJL!”

 

“Which suggests that he would be an ideal challenge for the Hardcore Title Robert.” Comet replies clearly nonplussed about Riley’s objections.

 

Before Riley can reply the tense atmosphere is broken as the arena lights go down and three words boom out from the speakers.

 

NO,

 

NO,

 

NOTORIOUS!

 

The words echo through the arena before Spineshank’s “Synthetic” hits the speakers, vying for domination with the massed boos of the fans as John Duran makes his entrance, The Notorious One stands on the stage for a moment a bundle of light tubes in each hand and the SWF hardcore title strapped securely around his waist. Duran smirks slightly at the boos and hatred of the fans before beginning to walk down the aisle as Funyon lifts his mic to his lips once again.

 

“The following contest is a hardcore match for the SWF HARDCORE TITLE! Introducing first! From Champaign, Illinois! Weighing 268lbs, he is the SWF HARDCORE CHAMPION! “THE NOTORIOUS” JOHN DURAN!!!!!”

 

The boos of the fans raise ever higher as Funyon makes his announcement but Duran shrugs off the abuse being hurled at him merely sneering at those fans flanking the aisle as he finally arrives at the ring. Duran jumps up onto the apron, stepping through the ropes and walking to the center of the ring, raising his arms into the air, the light tube bundles he carries crossing in an X above his head as his hate filled eyes stare into the nearest camera and the eyes of the viewers at home.

 

“And Citizen Duran is looking ready as always. And one thing we know for sure Robert is that he will not let that title go willingly. Citizen’s Aecas and Duran met more than a few times in the SJL so it should be interesting to see what these two old adversaries make of one another.”

 

John Duran lays one of the light tube bundles down in a corner before unstrapping his Hardcore Title with one hand and tossing it at referee Eddy Long his eyes locking onto the entranceway, his right hand still loosely holding the second bundle of light tubes as he awaits his opponent.

 

"Are you scared?"

 

"He's here..........."

 

Dark Funeral's “Dead Skin Mask” blasts out from the arena speakers as red lights begin to strobe around the arena, like an alarm system gone wrong - or a system that is warning of imminent carnage. Thick smoke boils up from the entranceway, filling the air and carpeting the floor, a blood red spotlight picks out Aecas as he stands deep in the depths of the smoke, an eerie silhouette that slowly begins to walk through the smoke as the boos of the fans turn to cheers as the Black Angel makes his entrance. Aecas slowly starts to walk down the aisle pushing a shopping trolley stuffed with various weapons with a damnable grin already on his face.

 

“And his opponent! From Shrewsbury, England! Weighing 315lbs! THE BLACK ANGEL! AECAS!!!”

 

The fans erupt once again as Funyon quickly makes his way out of the ring, Duran’s eyes following the huge form of his opponent as he casually makes his way down to the ring the light tubes in his hand coming up into a ready position as Aecas comes to a halt outside the ring. The Black Angel looks up at his opponent his dead white eyes taking in the raised light tubes and grins a little wider, reaching into the shopping cart and pulling out a bundle of tubes of his own to a pop from the fans.

 

“And Citizen Aecas is once again bringing the toys of the trade with him to the match!”

 

“Where the hell does he get all this stuff?!”

 

“Not from Wal-Mart Robert I can assure you!”

 

Duran continues to stare down at Aecas who simply grins back up at him from outside the ring, the stare down continues until Duran raises one hand and beckons Aecas into the ring. Not one to refuse an invitation the Black Angel quickly slides under the bottom rope and getting to his feet, ignoring Eddy Long both men charge at one another light tubes raised. Aecas ducks under a swing that would have taken his head off and whirls around as Duran twists about, desperate to correct his miss, the Black Angel doesn’t give him the chance as he smashes the light tubes into the stomach of the Notorious One.

 

Duran doubles over from the impact as glass explodes across the ring, dropping his own light tubes to the canvas as his hands go to his stomach. Unfortunately for Duran Aecas is far from finished tossing away the stubs of the light tubes he wraps his right arm around the head of The Notorious One DDT’ing his opponent face first onto the light tubes!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“And Citizen’s Duran and Aecas aren’t even waiting for the bell to be rung Robert! They are going right at it and Citizen Duran caught the worst of that first exchange!”

 

Duran’s head jerks back from the canvas and the Notorious One quickly rolls out of the ring, one hand clutching at his forehead as the other brushes away class from his t-shirt clad stomach, the fans erupting as Aecas gets back up to his feet, grins still in place and if anything getting nastier by the minute. Eddy Long quickly passes the Hardcore Title out of the ring and signals to the Timekeeper to start the match.

 

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

 

“And now we’re officially underway Robert!”

 

“Yes we are after that sneak attack by Aecas! This is exactly the sort of thing that Duran was complaining about! These guys aren’t only psychos but they cheat as well!”

 

“But Citizen Duran openly invited Citizen Aecas into the ring! He brought it on his own head and now he’s on the floor on the outside!”

 

Duran is indeed on the floor outside the ring, on his knees to be exact and glaring at his giant opponent with pure murder in his eyes his forehead sporting a myriad of small cuts from the glass as he surges back up to his feet. Throwing aside the ring cover The Notorious One drags several chairs out from underneath the ring, hurling them into the squared circle before he turns to the shopping cart of weaponry. A barbed wire 2x4 emerges, quickly followed by a pair of heavy metal baking sheets and a succession of light tube bundles as Aecas begins to climb out of the ring after his opponent.

 

Duran throws himself at the Black Angel armed with a Kendo Stick dragged from the shopping cart and sending it cracking across the side of Aecas’ face as the giant’s feet hit the protective mats.

 

SMACK!

 

Aecas’ head jerks back from the impact and he lunges at Duran to be met with another hard shot from the cane, the Notorious One pressing forwards as he hammers the cane into the giant’s head again and again.

 

SMACK!

 

SMACK!

 

SMACK!

 

SMACK!

 

Duran beats Aecas down to his knees with vicious repeated shots from the cane, breaking the wood over his opponent’s head and still smashing it down before finally tossing away the splintered wreckage.

 

“And Citizen Duran is already mounting a comeback in the early stages of the match!”

 

“And he’s also looking for more things to hit that Grim Reaper wannabe with!”

 

With his opponent temporarily dealt with Duran reaches into the ring, grabbing a pair of light tubes one in each hand and advancing on Aecas who is rising up to his feet once more. The Black Angel looks up just in time to see Duran swinging his right arm forwards, shattering the glass against the Aecas’ head and spreading glass shards all over the mats as the giant slumps backwards.

 

The Notorious One advances on his downed opponent and holds the remaining light tube in both hands, breaking the center of it on the Black Angels head and leaving him with two shattered halves. Aecas looks up slowly, his dead white eyes staring into Duran’s and his hands come up urging his opponent on as blood begins to steadily run down his face from several deep cuts where the ragged glass dragged through his flesh.

 

“And Citizen Aecas is urging Citizen Duran on! He wants more punishment!”

 

“Now this is where being insane doesn’t work very well for you Comet, its all very well wanting more, but when your opponent gives you more than you can handle the bottom falls out for you.”

 

“Well we know that Citizen Aecas can take a lot of punishment, and equally we know Citizen Duran is more than capable of handing it out. The question is can Citizen Duran dish out more punishment that Citizen Aecas can take.”

 

“If Aecas keeps asking Duran to hit him I’d say that’s a definite yes Comet.”

 

Duran looks down at Aecas for a long moment before smashing the two glass halves into the Black Angel’s temples opening yet more cuts on the giant’s face. Tossing away the broken stubs of the light tube Duran quickly rolls back into the ring as Aecas starts to get back up to his feet, grinning as the blood begins to flow more freely down his face as he follows his opponent. The Notorious One is already back on his feet stamping down hard on Aecas’ head to goad him on before quickly backing away into the center of the ring as his opponent rises back up to his feet.

 

As soon as Aecas gets back up to his feet he charges his opponent, running straight into a boot to the gut as Duran snaps his feet up at the last moment doubling the giant over as Duran quickly kicks the three chairs he threw into the ring into a rough pile. Reacting quickly Duran steps in close to his large opponent pulling Aecas’ arms back up behind him with a Double Underhook. The Notorious One pauses for a moment before jumping up into the air, heaving the larger man off of his feet before gravity drags them both down planting the Black Angel’s head solidly into the pile of steel chairs!

 

“Double Arm DDT on the chairs!” Cries Comet.

 

“And he’s got the leg hooked!”

 

“Citizen Duran is trying to end this one early!”

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Aecas kicks out hard, sending Duran tumbling off of him and already beginning to get back up to his feet, the Black Angel rubs at his bloody forehead stooping to pick up one of the steel chairs he snaps it open and places it in the center of the ring, just as Duran slams the barbed wire 2x4 across his back! Aecas’ arches his back as the barbed wire bites into his skin, he turns around and only just manages to duck under a swing that would have torn his face off. Aecas slams a huge fist into Daemon’s gut, doubling his opponent over before the Black Angel straightens back up wrapping his huge right arm around the head of the Notorious One, his left grabbing a handful of tights as he hoists Duran bodily into the air. Aecas holds his opponent upright for several long moments before he drops him straight south……RIGHT THROUGH THE OPEN CHAIR!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

“Brainbuster THROUGH the steel chair!”

 

“Citizen Duran has had his fun and now its Citizen Aecas’ turn! And I don’t think this is going to be pretty Robert!”

 

Aecas gets back up to his feet dragging a groggy Duran up with him, he kicks the broken chair aside before smashing a knee into his opponent’s gut, doubling him over before shoving the Notorious One’s head down between his legs. Aecas leans forwards, wrapping his arms around Duran’s waist before hauling him up to shoulder level, once again the Black Angel holds his opponent upright for a few movements before Powerbombing the Notorious One into the canvas, shaking the ring with the impact. Adjusting his grip on Duran, Aecas slowly lifts his opponent off of the canvas back up to shoulder height before slamming him down once more with another HARD Powerbomb.

 

The Black Angel grins as he lifts Duran up once again and Powerbomb’s him spine first onto a steel chair to another huge “OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” from the fans as Duran’s back arches. Gripping Duran tightly Aecas lifts him up one more time, but this time reaches up to grab the Notorious One by the head, dragging him down across his broad shoulders, holding his opponent by the neck and legs. Aecas slowly moves over towards the nearest corner, hefting Duran on his shoulders before leaping into the air and spiking the notorious One into the corner with a Death Valley Driver! The fans explode once again as Aecas slowly gets back up to his feet, hooking Duran’s legs underneath the top turnbuckle, suspending him in a Tree of Woe.

 

“Death Valley Driver into the corner! He could have killed Duran with that move!”

 

“It’s only going to get worse for Citizen Duran Robert! Aecas is nowhere near finished with him yet!”

 

The Black Angel slowly slides out of the ring, crouching and throwing aside the ring cover before reaching in and grabbing something from the recesses of the ring.

 

“What’s this maniac going to pull out now?”

 

Aecas answers the question in everyone’s mind as he slowly pulls a barbed wire board out from underneath the ring to a huge roar of approval from the fans, the giant slides the board into the ring before ducking down and dragging another from beneath the ring to an equally large pop sliding that into the ring alongside the first. Climbing back into the squared circle Aecas picks up the first board and slowly walks over to Duran placing the board wire first against his body, Aecas slowly walks across the ring and crouches in the opposite corner grinning wider as the crowd can sense what’s coming.

 

“The end may be nigh for Citizen Duran!”

 

Aecas charges across the ring and GORES the barbed wire board into his opponent, snapping the wood in half as the barbed wire is driven into Duran’s body from the force of the impact.

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

“My god! Did you just see that Robert!?”

 

“Of course I did where the hell do you think I am?!”

 

“Citizen Aecas seems to have this match paying right into his hands! I think Citizen Duran is going to be hard pressed to make a comeback from that!”

 

“Shows what you know Comet. Duran didn’t become the Hardcore Champion by giving up when the momentum turned against him like that and he sure as hell isn’t going to start now!”

 

Aecas rips away the two halves of the board, revealing a very bloody Duran, perforated by hundreds of small cuts who finally slumps out of the corner, collapsing to the canvas. Aecas rolls his opponent over and hooks a leg as Eddy Long makes the count.

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Aecas is quickly back to his feet, wasting no time after the near count, dragging Duran up with him and Irish Whipping him hard into the nearest corner, shaking the ring with the impact before charging his opponent. To his credit Duran quickly gets his feet up and Aecas eats boot, staggering backwards out of the corner, giving The Notorious One all the opening he needs to rush out of the corner and level the giant with a hard clothesline. Aecas regains his feet quickly only to be knocked down by a second hard clothesline, as he climbs back to his feet for a third time Duran swoops in behind him hammering several hard shots into the giant’s kidney’s.

 

Aecas flinches slightly from the hard blows a slight twinge of discomfort passing over his face as Duran hammers yet more blows into his lower back. Aecas swings backwards with an elbow but Duran ducks out of the way, popping up as Aecas spins around and locking his arms underneath the Black Angels’ armpits and with a tremendous heave he hurls his opponent up and over his head with a Belly to Belly Suplex. Aecas crashes down to the canvas almost right on his head and shoulders, the kinetic force snapping his body back upright into a sitting position.

 

“Citizen Duran showing some impressive strength here Robert, he’s tossing Citizen Aecas around like a rag doll!”

 

“That’s as maybe Comet but he needs to keep the pressure on, he can’t afford to let Aecas have any time to recover.”

 

Seeing Aecas sitting up on the canvas and already starting to rise, Duran goes back to the ropes using the cables for extra momentum as he hurtles towards Aecas, and slams his knee HARD into the side of his opponents head. The fans scream and boo as Aecas flops almost bonelessly down onto the canvas, Duran wasting no time in dropping to his knees and covering Aecas with a lateral press.

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEE-NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Aecas kicks out a fraction of a second before Eddy Long can count three, shoving Duran off of him as he rolls over onto his front slowly getting back up to his feet, his efforts are hindered by The Notorious One dropping a hard elbow on the back of his head, flattening him onto the canvas once again. Duran is quick to act while he has is opponent down grabbing several bundles of light tubes he stacks them in the nearest corner before heading back to his downed opponent. The Notorious One pulls Aecas up by the hair and pushes him non too gently into the corner, pressing him back against the multitude of light tubes, some of which crack already as the Black Angel slumps back against them.

 

“What is Citizen Duran planning here Robert?”

 

“How am I supposed to know Comet? Rest assured that whatever he has in mind it’ll be a fitting receipt for that Gore that Aecas gave him earlier!”

 

Duran grabs one half of the splintered barbed wire board holding it high in mocking salute to the fans and drawing a fresh wave of boos and jeers from the crowd as he slowly walks across the ring much the same way Aecas did moments earlier. Turning Duran charges headlong across the ring holding the barbed wire board in front of him smashing the barbs into the chest of the Black Angel and splintering the light tubes against his back with a massive Spear into the corner!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

“And Citizen Aecas has been shredded!”

 

“You see Comet! That’s exactly what I’m talking about! John Duran does not just quit on you! And now the tables have well and truly turned!”

 

Aecas slumps down to his knees before falling face down onto the canvas, Duran physically drags his giant opponent out of the corner and quickly pins his shoulders to the mat with another lateral press hooking one of the Black Angel’s tree trunk like legs in the process.

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Aecas’ left shoulder shoots off of the canvas at the last moment the cheers of the fans rocking the arena as the match continues and John Duran doesn’t waste time complaining as he hauls Aecas back up to his feet once more, stepping in behind the Black Angel and hooking the Giant’s arms up into a Full Nelson. Aecas struggles in Duran’s grip before the notorious one arches himself backwards taking Aecas up and over and dropping him headfirst on the canvas with a Dragon Suplex, arching his body up in a textbook bridge as Eddy Long quickly begins to count the pin once again.

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

….

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

The fans explode once more as Aecas jerks his shoulders from the mat a split second before Eddy Long’s hand hits the canvas for a third time, the giant’s body crashing back down to the mat from its awkward position as John Duran smashes the canvas in frustration.

 

“And Citizen Aecas escapes the Dragon Suplex!”

 

“Barley Comet! Only just barely escaped it, that’s as close to a three count as you can get! One more move like that and this match is OVER!”

 

“Close is not good enough though is it Citizen Riley? The match continues whether Citizen Duran likes it or not!”

 

The Notorious One leaps back up to his feet, dragging Aecas up once again and practically throwing his huge opponent into the nearest corner snapping the Black Angel’s head back and forth with a series of vicious lefts and rights before he turns away and retrieves the second barbed wire board dragging it into the centre of the ring. Grabbing Aecas by the hair once more Duran drags his opponent to the centre of the ring, slamming a hard knee into the gut of his opponent doubling him over once more and shoving the giants head between his legs.

 

“Duran’s looking for Ultimate Sin! And on the barbed wire to boot! If he hits this its all over!”

 

“Indeed Robert! Citizen Duran has indeed used Ultimate Sin to gain wins over Citizen Aecas before! And tonight may just be one more such time!”

 

John Duran leans forwards, wrapping his broad arms around the waist of the Black Angel; he pauses for a long moment before heaving his giant opponent up to his shoulders and then slowly back even further. Duran lets Aecas slide past his head, his grip shifting from the hips to under the arms, his muscles straining as he holds all 315lbs of his opponent above his head, back to back. Duran tries to hold on to his opponent as Aecas begins to struggle knowing the precarious position he is in, his legs thrash and finally Duran cannot keep hold of his wriggling opponent any longer and Aecas’ feet kiss the canvas once again.

 

The Black Angel quickly smashes his right elbow backwards, sending the hard bone thundering into Duran’s kidneys staggering the Notorious One as Aecas smashes his elbow back for a second time, arching his opponents back as he catches him right in the spine. Aecas quickly turns around, bending down and shoving his head between Duran’s legs and quickly standing up forcibly lifting the Notorious One up onto his shoulders.

 

“Citizen Aecas escapes the Ultimate Sin! And he’s setting Citizen Duran up for the Assault Driver!”

 

Aecas reaches up and quickly grabs Duran’s left hand as the Notorious One tries to free himself from this new threat hammering his right fist down on Aecas’ bloody forehead staggering the giant as the Black Angel tries to catch the wayward hand. Finally more by luck than skill Aecas grabs Duran’s right hand and in one swift movement pulls the Notorious One off of his shoulders and sits out, driving his opponent head and upper back first into the barbed wire!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

HOLY SHIT!

 

Aecas leans forwards and pins Duran as best he can as the barbed wire tears at both men, the fans rocking the arena with yet another faecal chant as Eddy Long counts the pinfall once again.

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

….

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO AND A HALF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO AND THREE QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Aecas slumps back to the canvas as Duran’s right shoulder shoots up before the three the fans filling the air with boos as Duran narrowly escapes defeat, both men laying on the barbed wire chests heaving as the exertions of the match and the punishment they have taken begins to catch up with them.

 

“And Duran kicks out of the Assault Driver! And that has to be playing havoc with the psyche of the Black Angel!”

 

Aecas slowly pulls himself back up to a sitting position before pushing himself back up to his feet looking out at the crowd and raising his arms, his hands pressed against one another, thumbs hooked and fingers splayed like wings. The sight confuses some fans but others, long time fans of the SJL recognise this sign and lead the others to cheer once more as Aecas moves to his fallen opponent and turns him over onto his front, still laying on the barbed wire.

 

“What’s that sign mean Comet?”

 

“Something we’ve not seen for months Robert! He’s signalling for the Wings of Fire!”

 

“The what?”

 

“Keep watching Citizen Riley! You’re about to find out!”

 

Aecas sits down next to Duran facing his opponents head, he grabs the Notorious Ones arms raising them up high before placing his huge legs around them cinching them up tightly in a Full Nelson before he leans back pulling hard on Duran’s arms and beginning to make them bend in entirely the wrong direction. Duran’s back begins to arch as Aecas slowly exerts more pressure, bending his spine as his tries to wrench the arms out of their sockets. The Notorious One cries out in agony as his body is torn at by the Black Angel’s vice like grip and the barbed wire still digging into his flesh, referee Eddy Long asks Duran if he wants to give up and the Notorious One shakes his head violently.

 

“That’s the Wings of Fire Robert!”

 

“He’s going to fold Duran’s spine in half! You see what I mean Comet! This man is nuts! He’s going to kill John Duran right in front of us!”

 

Duran cries out again as Aecas wrenches the hold tighter, the Notorious One desperately holding on trying to power his way out of the vice like hold of the Black Angels legs not wanting it to end like this.

 

But the grip is too strong and as Aecas pulls back one more time it proves too much, even for the iron resolve of the Notorious One and he cries out once again and finally, reluctantly submits.

 

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

 

“The winner of the match! AND THE NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW SWF HARDCORE CHAMPION! THE BLACK ANGEL! AECAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Dark Funeral’s “Dead Skin Mask” erupts from the speakers once again, warring with the cheers of the fans as they nearly blow the roof off of the arena as Aecas finally releases Duran from that torturous hold. The Black Angel slowly gets back up to his feet, a wide grin splitting his bloody face as Eddy Long hands him the Hardcore Title, the giant holding the belt aloft with both hands dragging a fresh bout of cheers from the fans as Dead Skin Mask continues to blast through the speakers.

 

“And Citizen Aecas has done it! The Trinity have pried the Hardcore title back from the hands of the Unnamed!”

 

“Aecas can celebrate for now Comet but the war between the Unnamed and the Trinity is going to continue in our Main Event and you can be sure they’ll be nothing to smile about then!”

 

“We will see Robert! Stay tuned Citizens as our main event is right after these commercials!”

 

The cameras flick back to the ring as Aecas ascends the turnbuckles holding the belt up high and grinning out at the fans, his bloody body mirroring that of John Duran as champion and ex-champion stand amidst the wreckage in the ring as the image fades out and the commercials roll on.

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With the main event on the horizon, SWF comes back on the air and cuts to a shot outside the front of the arena. A enormous “boo” can be heard from inside the arena as HVT walks through the parking lot, seemingly lost.

 

(HVT) – Goddamn rentals…where the fuck is it?

 

He walks down a row of cars that looks exactly like the one he walked down previously.

 

(HVT) – All these fuckin’ cars look alike…what color was it…AAAARRRGGGGHHHH!!!

 

The crowd inside erupts as HVT stumbles forward from the blow. He spins around to find the first of Alan Clark connecting with his jaw, and in his current state of unbalance, the punch nearly sends him to the floor.

 

(Clark) – Attack me will you??

 

As Thugg tries to regain his balance but hunched over, Clark delivers a stiff kick to Thugg’s abdomen, sending him back even farther.

 

(Clark) – Not such a big man now, are you Thugg? Now that you don’t have the element of surprise…

 

As HVT stands upright, Clark throws another kick, but Thugg catches this one and pins his leg between his side and his arm.

 

(HVT) – Yo…that was cute man…just like a lil’ school girl. But, my momma always told me, treat a bitch like a bitch!

 

With that, Thugg lifts Clark by his leg and hurls him in the air. Alan slams hard back first into a nearby Honda Accord, at which point, its alarm begins to wail violently. HVT starts towards Clark as he writhes in pain against the vehicle, and through the siren of the car, HVT grabs for him. Clark, however, side steps Thugg’s grasp and lands a hard right to his temple, causing the big man’s head to snap to the side. Quick on the offense, Clark grabs Thugg’s head and slams it hard onto the Accord’s trunk, leaving a man-sized dent in the frame.

 

(Clark) – How can you call your mother a bitch like that...that’s just not right.

 

The fans inside laugh a bit as Clark slams Thugg’s head again…but HVT absorbs the blow and throws an elbow into Clark’s gut, doubling him over. He grabs Clark and throws him head first into the rear of the vehicle, and Alan cries out in pain as he goes down to the pavement.

 

(HVT) – You should-a known better lil’ man…you can’t fuck wit me…you can’t beat Thugg. Now you gotta pay…

 

As Thugg goes to inflict more damage, he is grabbed from all sides by the Indianapolis PD…

 

(HVT) – What the…?

 

About ten more cops run onto the scene and stand between Clark, who is up to his feet now and trying to get after HVT, and Thugg. Then, through the nighttime chill, they hear the voice of the commissioner…

 

(Stevens) – What the hell is going on here?!? You’re fighting in the parking lot? This stops now!!

 

(HVT) – Mind yo fuckin’ business Mark…

 

(Stevens) – Shut the fuck up! I talk now…

 

(Clark) – But Mark…

 

(Stevens) – YOU TOO! Shut the hell up! Now…the two of you have been pissing me off for the last 3 weeks, and I don’t have time or energy to deal with it. Thugg…you’re not an employee here anymore…Clark…you know better than to start some shit with someone that doesn’t work here. You tryin’ to hurt yourself before PPV?

 

(Clark) – Mark! I can take…

 

(Stevens) – I said, SHUT UP!...I can’t have employees and former employees fighting in the parking lot of the arena! You know how much crap I’ll have to deal with?? Do you? So, listen! Since the two of you want to pound each other into the pavement…and you seem determined to do it on my time and my property…I have no choice but to…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…give you a stage to fight on!

 

RAAAAAAA!

 

(Stevens) – So…next Sunday…at From the Fire…it will be HVT…vs. Alan Clark…in a STREET FIGHT!

 

The fans explode inside as Stevens steps into Thugg’s face…

 

(Stevens) – BUT! But…that’s it. It ends there. At From the Fire…this ends. You get one match…just one. No rematches…not later ons…no next times…ONE SHOT…to tear each other apart. Whoever wins, wins…that’s it…it’s over. I’m not going to deal with this crap for another second.

 

(HVT) – It’s about damn time you showed some balls Mark…

 

(Stevens) – Oh yeah Thugg? Now you look here to fat ass, wanna-be Warren Sapp…looking like your mother gave birth to an orangutan…after this one match…you’re done! Finished! You will never wrestle for this federation again! You are still, in fact, fired! I’m only doing this because I am sick of this crap between you and Alan.

 

(Clark) – Thank you Mark…

 

(Stevens) – No! Don’t think you’re off the hook Clark…cause after this match…if I see you even thinking about getting involved with Thugg…or any one that isn’t a part of this company…you’ll be joining him in the unemployment line…got it?

 

Clark nods, and then stares back at Thugg.

 

(Stevens) – Now…of for Lockdown…I don’t want either of you anywhere near each other! Clark…you’ll have a match that I’ll determine later…Thugg…I’m gonna get a restraining order that’ll go into effect from now until the end of time. You will not be allowed within a mile of any SWF event…ever! And just to be sure you don’t try any funny stuff…I’ll have police at every entrance…at every exit…at ever crevice of the arena to make sure you do not show up! You will have one reprieve of that order…and that will be 2 weeks from Sunday when you will be allowed in to face Clark…and then you will be escorted out of the building, never to be seen again. Got it?

 

(HVT) – Yeah, whateva…

 

(Stevens) – Good! Now you too love birds get the hell outta my sight! If I even think I see anything go down with you for the rest of the night…or on Lockdown…the match is off, and everybody is fired!

 

And with that, Mark Stevens storms back towards the arena, cursing Thugg and Clark to himself. The fans inside are screaming at the Street Fight between Thugg and Clark set for From The Fire. Thugg and Clark stare at each other, both still in the grasp of the police…

 

(HVT) – See you in two weeks lil’ man…

 

(Clark) – I’ll be waiting you fat fuck.

 

And with that, they both go their separate ways, with the cops standing to ensure there is a peaceful departing.

 

Fade to black.

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Comet: Welcome back citizens to SWF Storm! We’ve had a action packed show already and now it’s time for the main event. We’re already heard words about the set that was meant to be the main event title match on the last show. But now Citizens Night and Va’aiga have to face each other down in a six person tag match.

 

Riley: It wasn’t a set up Comet. It was a cunning plan. Just because you don’t agree with what Va’aiga and The Unnamed do, doesn’t mean they have to be stupid about it. This match isn’t stupid either. It gives The Unnamed a chance to get the measure of Charlie Matthews before From the Fire.

 

Comet: To soften him up you mean Robert. Well, all the other Unnamed and Trinity members are completely barred from the ring, so this should be an interesting match up.

 

Riley: Interesting ass kicking more like.

 

Stepping into the ring, with his signature house mike in hand, Funyon waits for the crowd to quite down before starting his introductions for the match.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest will be a six person tag team match. Introducing firstly, at a combined weight of seven hundred and thirty nine pounds? THE UNNAMED!

 

BBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Bullet In The Blue Sky screams into life as strobe lights flash across the entrance way. The figures of The House of Todd, Todd Royal and Landon Maddix, along with the SWF World Champion Va’aiga pace slowly down the ramp, snarling at the ringside fans. While Royal and Maddix climb the turnbuckles, Va’aiga stands in the middle of the ring with the Title Belt, holding it high. Handing the belt to the time keeper, the three Unnamed members pace around the, pausing the flip off the fans.

 

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

 

HOUSE OF ASSHOLE! HOUSE OF ASSHOLE!

 

Funyon: And their opponents, weighting in at a total of seven hundred and twenty eight pounds…CHARLIE ‘THE GRAPPLER MATTHEWS and ‘ICHIBAN’ ANN ONITA... and...  DACE!

 

FUCKING!

 

Funyon: NIGHT!

 

RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

 

Some Kind of Monster booms into life as Charlie Matthews strides out to the top of the ramp, waving to the fans, holding his ICTV Title Belt. Staring down into the ring, he looks straight past the House of Todd and at the World Champion, Va’aiga.

Risky Gamble hums into life before the image of Ann Onita on the Smarktron sets off a blast of blue pyro around the stage. Walking out with cigar in hand, Onita joins the man she faced just a few days ago at the top of the stage. Finally, Hero rips into life as a wave of pyro lights up the ramp from top to bottom as Dace Night joins his two team mates at the top of the ramp.

 

Comet: Now both teams are out here, it’s just a question of who’s going to make the first move. And is Referee Soapdish going to be able to keep a handle of all six men at once?

 

Riley: There’s not a chance. I just wonder if there will ever be any order in this match up.

 

Exchanging a quick glance between each other, Dace, Ann and Charlie charge down the ramp as The Unnamed race to the front of the ring to meet up. Sliding under the bottom rope, Dace dives under a huge punch from Va’aiga and flattens him into the mat with a Gore and scrambles into a top mount. Before Va’aiga can recover, Dace unloads a huge wave of Elbow Smashes into the cheek of the Maori Badass. Onita ducks a Spin Kick from Maddix and catches him with a perfect Dropkiss that flattens his back into the turnbuckles.

Grappler catches a Clothesline attempt from Royal and sweeps with leg out with an STO, plastering Royal into the mat.

 

DING, DING, DING!

 

YYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

Desperately covering up his face from a rain of elbows that threaten to completely destroy his damaged cheek bone, Va’aiga throws his weight over on the mat and rolls over the ring, dragging Dace along with him to the floor. Matthews drags the smaller Royal to his feet, scooping him up from behind, taking him up and crashing back down to the mat with a Backdrop Suplex. Taking a run up into the corner, Ichiban catches a recovering Maddix, springing off his knee and drilling him in the face with a Shining Wizard. On the outside, Horrorcore and the Predator separate themselves from the tangle of limbs. Leaving Va’aiga clutching his face, Dace slides back into the ring to join his team mates. Taking their place in the corner, Dace and Grappler look on as Todd Royal drags himself into his corner and The Career Ender struggles to his feet on the outside. The Hardcore Queen drags the dazed Landon to his feet, ready for her next move.

 

Comet: Citizens Night, Matthews and Onita take control early on, taking out all three members of The Unnamed in one great burst. If they can keep up this pace they’ll have the match won in no time.

 

Riley: If they can, if Comet. None of these three are used to tagging together, but the House of Todd has a lot of tag team experience and they’ll jump on the smallest of mistake to take control. Not to mention that Va’aiga will want to crush anyone of them is he gets the chance too.

 

Holding Landon by the head, Ann flicks her leg up and smashes him in the face with first one then two then three High Kicks. Before she twists on her heel and levels Maddix with a Spinning Heel Kick. Immediately following him down to the mat, Onita makes a quick cover as Soapdish dives in!

 

ONE!

 

Kick out!

 

OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

Pulling herself back up, Ichiban waits for a moment as the Disciple of Todd tries to stand up before slamming a knee into his face and yanking him back into the mat with neck jarring DDT. Reaching backwards, she tags in Dace Night, who steps through the ropes and straight over Maddix. Making his way to the middle of the ring, Dace yells out to the Maori Badass:

 

Dace: Come and fight me you coward!

 

YYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

 

Comet: The wealth of experience Citizen Onita has over Maddix pays off and she easily has control. Now Citizen Night is calling Va’aiga out! I think he’s still blinded slightly by rage. He needs to focus on his opponent in the ring.

 

Riley: Hey, if Dace wants to be stupid enough to call Va’aiga out again, then let him. As for not focusing on the ring, here comes Maddix to answer that one right now.

 

Rolling back to his feet, Maddix bounds off the ropes and crashes into Dace’s back with a Flying Forearm, stumbling Horrorcore, who turns around swinging-

 

CRACK! OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

-Drilling Maddix in the face with an Elbow Smash. Holding him by the back of the head, Dace once again yells at Va’aiga to get in the ring and face him. Shaking his head out, the young Unnamed member tries to slip free of Dace’s grasp, but takes a brutal knee to the face for his efforts. Holding the struggling Maddix out in front of him, Dace once again yells for Va’aiga to come and face him. Landon hammers a wild kick into Night’s mid section, but it has no effect as Night scoop him up and rills him into the mat with a Spinebuster before sending him rolling into the Unnamed’s cover.

 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

Comet: And Dace is still calling Va’aiga out. This isn’t the best idea ever Robert. Someone needs to screw Dace’s head back on before something really silly starts to happen.

 

Riley: You mean this isn’t silly already?

 

Smirking, Va’aiga looks down at Landon Maddix then points across the Charlie Matthews!

 

Va’aiga: I want him first!

 

Shrugging, Dace leans back and tags in Charlie Matthews before stepping out onto the apron. Moving to the middle of the ring, The Grappler spreads his arms and invites the Predator to join him in the ring. As Landon hauls himself back up with the ring ropes, he exchanges a nod with Va’aiga and reaches out, tagging in… Todd Royal.

 

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Comet: Dace demands that Va’aiga gets in the ring and even lets Charlie Matthews take his place, but the leader of The Unnamed still won’t get in the ring!

 

Riley: It’s called smarts Comet. Let those fools build everything up then kill their plans dead and force them to do something else. And I think Todd Royal has a thing or two to say about the treatment of Landon Maddix!

 

Royal edges out of his corner slowly, watching the bigger and more experience Grappler. Matthews extends his arms out for a test of strength, holding them forwards as Royal edges in inch by inch and closes first one hand, then the other with the ICTV Champ, only to lash a boot out and catch him in the gut. Looping his arms around Matthews’ head, Todd clamps on a Front Facelock and tries to drop backwards into a DDT, but Charlie holds his ground and blasts Todd in the ribs with a right hand. Now Grappler doubles Royal over and bridges backwards, taking him over with a Gutwrench Suplex.

 

YYAAAAAHHHH!

 

Comet: Citizen Royal tries to out maneuver The Grappler but gets out done and ends up taking a Gutwrench Suplex. This is what Va’aiga has to worry about. His tag partners have fare less experience than people like Citizen Matthews and Miss Onita.

 

Riley: Yes, but they’re a real tag team, and they have the big guns of Va’aiga to back them up. Not some choke artist like Dace Night.

 

As Grappler rolls back up to his feet, Maddix quickly climbs to the top turnbuckle and waits for a moment before he has Charlie lined up…

 

OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!

 

--Then dives through the air and drills both his feet into the back of Matthews’ neck!

 

SMACK! BBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Comet: And Landon Maddix surprises Grappler with an Enzui-Missile Dropkick, taking him out!

 

Riley: See what I mean about being real tag team!

 

Rolling out of the ring and back onto the apron as Soapdish yells at him, Landon slimes as his Toddness backs up a few paces. Measuring up the stunned Charlie Matthews, Todd charges forwards and plants a knee into his face, spending him spinning back to the mat. Quickly leaning over and tagging Landon Maddix back in, Royal drags Grappler back up, and launches him forwards into a Maddix Super kick. Catching Charlie as he staggers backwards, Todd snaps him back to the mat with a Side Russian Leg sweep. Waiting for Royal to roll clear, Landon leaps into the air, twisting back over himself, and crashes down with a Standing Shooting Star Press.

 

OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

Comet: Standing Star Press from Citizen Maddix. The Unnamed are just double teaming Charlie Matthews!

 

Riley: Now, those are the skills of a real tag team Comet.

 

Soapdish slides in as Maddix cradles up a leg for the cover!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

T-NO!

 

YYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

 

Sliding into the ring, Ann dives into Maddix back with a Double Axe Handle to break up the pinfall. Va’aiga growls at Ichiban as she escorted back to her teammate. Landon lands a couple punches to the face as the referee's head is turned, ensuring Onita's return to the corner. Getting up off his victim, the Disciple of Todd leaps up and drops a leg onto the Intercontinental Television Champion. Grappler rolls away from the blow, trying to protect his already beat-on head. Matthews begins to get up slowly giving Landon a bright idea. Timing his moves, Maddix hits the opposite ropes just as Charlie makes it up to his knees. Shifting upward onto one knee, the Grappler raises his head just in time to see Maddix leap off his knee and...

 

 

CRRRRRRRRACK!

 

...bust him in the back of the head with a Shining Wizard. Ann Onita becomes furious, and begins to stomp on the mat with Dace Night trying to get their partner to wake up and come to their side.

 

Riley: Ohhhh ho! Such a beautiful thing, seeing the Unnamed reject ground into the dirt like the worm he is.

 

Comet: It's two on one, Bobby! How can anyone cheer on this display of unjust... oooooh no!

 

Riley: Oh no is right, because LOOK WHO GOT TAGGED IN!

 

 

The crowd begins to boo heavily as the giant Maori accepts the tag from Landon Maddix and steps over the top rope to enter the ring. Across the ring, Onita screams out at the World Champion:

 

Onita: Let him tag me in so I can beat your ass again!

 

Va'aiga simply dismisses the angry Ichiban and goes to work on Charlie Matthews. Pointing his elbow, the big man lets gravity do its thing and drops a HARD elbow onto the Grappler's head. Chuckling, the Maori Badass rolls Matthews onto his back and drapes his forearm across the bridge of his nose, covering him in a painful way...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE....... NOOO!

 

 

 

Comet: Close call there for Citizen Matthews!

 

 

Dace Night screams out at the ref, bringing his own forearm to his face to point out Va'aiga's trickery but the official pays him no mind. Va'aiga drags his opponent up off the mat and onto his feet, only to Irish whip him into the turnbuckles in the neutral corner! Turning around, the Maori Badass charges the corner at full speed and DRILLS Matthews with a clothesline! The Grappler can do nothing but slump against the corner as he feels his consciousness slipping. Va'aiga brings his open hand back and fiercely open-hand chops the ICTV Champion in the chest. Then a second... a third... and a knee to the gut brings Matthews forward off the corner but the laughing Maori simply pushes him roughly back into the turnbuckles!

 

Riley: Get used to looking at this, because this is how From the Fire is going to look come the main event!

 

Comet: I'm inclined to agree Bobbo... if the Maori is allowed to have Maddix and Royal work the Grappler over first!

 

Onita decides that she's had enough of this nonsense, and runs down the ring apron towards the two legal men. With her left fist cocked, she unloads a HUGE right hand to the injured right side of the Maori's face! The crowd gives their vocal approval of the move but the referee disagrees, stepping in to prevent Ichiban from making another strike. Wounded, Va'aiga steps back holding his face in pain. Assuming the referee to be busy, the World Champ motions at both of his teammates. Todd Royal rushes down the apron as Maddix steps through the ropes. Reaching the corner, His Toddness leaps into the air and lands a dropkick onto the prone Grappler and lands inside the ring. As he rolls back out to the outside, Maddix leaps over Royal to deliver a devastating high knee to Grappler's face! Landon lands and steps back through the ropes and rushes back to his corner as the referee finishes ushering the fuming Ann Onita back to her corner.

 

Riley: Now see, that's what you get for breaking the rules! Maddix and Royal making sure that these three nimrods don't get any cute ideas about winning into their skulls.

 

Comet: What? The Unnamed are the bastions of evil and wrongdoing! The one time Ann Onita takes the rules into her own hands, the Unnamed triple team him! You're one to talk about breaking rules.

 

Riley: Actually, I think I am. I did do it well enough in the ring.

 

Recovered from the surprise attack, Va'aiga steps back to the center of the ring and takes a deep breath. Again, the Maori charges full speed towards the unmoving Grappler... and CRUSHES HIM with another Lariat in the corner! Stepping back, Va'aiga allows Matthews to move forward from the force of the blow and land face first near the center of the ring. The Maori drops to his knees and rolls the Grappler onto his back before covering him with a hook of the leg. Soapdish spares a glance at Ichiban and Dace Night before dropping to the canvas to count...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRRREEEEE..... KICKOUT!

 

 

 

The crowd explodes into cheers, with chants of 'CHAAAAAARLIIIIIEEEE' rocking the arena. Va'aiga shakes his head in disbelief, arguing with the referee but getting nowhere. The Maori is still yelling expletives at Nick Soapdish as he drags the Grappler up to his feet... until Charlie hauls off and throws a left hook to the World Champion's ribs. Va'aiga takes the blow in stride, lifting a knee into his opponent's face. The blow drives Charlie Matthews into a standing position, where on pure instinct he brings his fist back and throws it FULL FORCE INTO VA'AIGA'S FACE! The Maori staggers back, pain radiating from every point above his neck. Roughly he drags the referee aside and berates Soapdish for not disqualifying Matthews immediately.

 

 

Comet: He finally has a chance! Tag someone in, Charlie Matthews! Tag someone in!

 

 

Grappler feels the surge of adrenaline coursing through his body, stumbling and bumbling to his corner and finally tagging in Ann Onita! Chants of 'I-CHI-BAN' start up as the legal woman rushes at the World Champion with a Dropkiss! Va'aiga goes down like a sack of bricks, but before Onita can capitalize she's blocked by Nick Soapdish who pushes her back towards her corner.

 

 

Comet: Injustice again befalls the home team, Va'aiga smartly distracting the referee who doesn't see the tag... and now the Grappler will have to take yet MORE abuse from these lowlifes.

 

Riley: Brilliant strategy, knowing that it was the perfect moment to get fresh blood in. Our World Champion didn't get that belt being stupid, Cyclone.

 

 

Dace screams at the official, yelling that the tag was legal but nothing shakes Soapdish from forcing Grappler back inside the ring. Turning around, Soapdish catches Va'aiga tagging in Todd Royal. Royal comes in and rushes the ICTV champion who reacts by attempting a clothesline, but Royal ducks the attack! Putting on the brakes behind his opponent, His Toddness catches Matthews from behind with a sleeper hold in the center of the ring! The already exhausted Grappler quickly searches for an escape or a body part to attack but none come to his searching arms. Even the audience loses its momentum as Royal drops his opponent to one knee.

 

 

Comet: This match should have gone the other way, Ann Onita or Dace Night should be in here right now, fresh and ready to fight. That dastardly villain... that could very well be the turning point of the match.

 

Riley: The turning point in this match was when Grappler and company entered the ring instead of running like smart people would have done.

 

 

Matthews fights the dreariness seeping into his head but the sleeper hold locked on by Royal makes his arms feel like lead weights. They drop slowly but steadily down... down... down to the mat and stop. Royal screams 'I Got Him!' at his corner as Soapdish drops to one knee to check for the knockout. The official raises Grappler's hand once, steadying it in the air before releasing... and watching the arm drop with a thud to the mat.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

Riley: See Comet, Charlie's style is so boring it even puts HIM to sleep!

 

 

As Riley chuckles at his own joke, Soapdish is raising Grappler's hand a second time. Dace and Onita stomp at their corner, beginning to get the crowd back into the match. Tremors are felt throughout the arena as the fans try to breathe life back into Matthew's brain. Soapdish releases.... only to watch the hand drop a second time.

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Charlie's corner is now slapping their top turnbuckle, stomping on the mat, doing anything to wake their partner up. The crowd starts in with 'LET'S GO, CHAR-LIE' followed by the traditional hockey clap. Still no movement is apparent in the ICTV Champion, save for the shaking caused by the laughing of his attacker as he squeezes the life out of the Grappler. Soapdish raises Charlie's hand a third time, holding it for a moment to ensure no mistake in the call before he drops it.... AND IT STAYS IN THE AIR! Out of nowhere, Charlie's leg starts to move, shaking, trying to wake up the rest of his body. Panic seizes his mind, knowing how close to defeat he is, forcing his eyes to open and see how he can get up. Wildly, he swings his arm backwards and catches Todd Royal in the ribs. The shock of the blow loosens Royal's hold on Grappler's wind pipe, allowing air to enter his lungs for the first time in what seemed like forever.

 

 

Comet: Rise and shine time for Citizen Matthews! You can't count out this courageous fighter no matter how down and out he seems...

 

Riley: Oh save the rhetoric until he actually tags one of his teammates. As it is he's still trapped in his own personal hell.

 

 

Grappler's foot catches the mat and pushes up, slowly forcing himself upward as Royal fights to keep his sleeper on. Once on his feet, Charlie digs deep and summons enough strength to lift Royal off the mat and whip him over his shoulder to the canvas! Todd rolls off the mat and back up to his feet in one fluid motion. Not wanting to let momentum turn against him, Royal side steps and unleashes a vicious Super kick... to nothing but air as Matthews ducks underneath! Caught off-guard, Todd can do nothing to avoid the Grappler's knee strike to the ribs! Off-balance, Todd considers himself lucky to stay on his feet as he doubles over to protect his ribs.... only to get a front face lock for his effort. Charlie drops back and SPIKES TODD ROYAL'S HEAD TO THE MAT!!!!

 

 

Comet: After all he's faced, Citizen Matthews can still fight! Is there no end to the well of strength within him?

 

Riley: Yes, yes there is and I dare say it's just been used; neither man is moving inside the ring!

 

Seeing both men on the mat and unmoving, Nick Soapdish begins the obligatory ten count, as the crowd counts along.

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

“FOUR!”

 

Annie and Dace both lead the huge crowd in a clapping rampage, both competitors’ hands extended as far as they possibly can for the tag, other hand firmly gripping the tag rope.

 

 

“FIVE!”

 

 

“SIX!”

 

 

Finally, the first man to show movement on the mat is Todd Royal, who rolls onto his stomach and shakes the cobwebs out. Seeing the opportunistic Va’aiga’s hand outstretched for the tag, he slowly begins crawling towards the corner.

 

“SEVEN!”

 

 

 

Finally, Grappler rolls onto his stomach, and just like Royal, he crawls towards his corner, albeit much slower than Royal.

 

 

“EIGHT!”

 

 

 

 

 

“NINE!”

 

Royal crawls forward…and MAKES THE TAG TO VA’AIGA! The Maori storms into the ring and sprints toward Matthews, hoping to cut him off from making the tag-

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

-but it’s too late, as Matthews MAKES THE TAG TO DACE!! The crowd roars as Night charges under the ropes and into the ring, swinging his arm around and surprising the World Champion with a running elbow smash to the face!

 

*CRAAAAAACK!*

 

Va’aiga bellows in pain as his thousands of cheekbone pieces break into millions, and he collapses down to the mat from the single blow.

 

Comet: Unbelievable elbow smash from Citizen Night, and it looks like Va’aiga might be out cold!

 

Riley: Oh come now, Comet, there’s no way our World Champion could possibly be knocked out…right?

 

Dace drops down and covers Va’aiga, hooking his leg as Soapdish drops down to count!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

“THRE-“ The count is BROKEN as Landon Maddix charges into the ring and drops an elbow onto the back of Dace’s head!

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

Dace rolls off of Va’aiga as Soapdish admonishes Landon and sends him back to his corner. However, Night has the vitality of an ox’s buttocks, and he rises back up to his feet without signs of pain. He brings the Maori Knocked-Out Ass up with him, and knees him in the midsection to double him over. Night traps Va’aiga’s arms in a double underhook, and quite easily, he hoists the Champ up into the air, flipping him around before dropping him down onto the mat, right on his upper back with an ENORMOUS Tiger Driver!

 

Comet: Great Creighton’s ghost, Bobbo, I think the High Priest of Horrorcore has the World Champion’s number!

 

Riley: This is ridiculous. Dace just took advantage of Va’aiga’s injury, and now he’s taking every shortcut in the book.

 

Comet: Insane troll logic™!

 

 

The crowd ERUPTS in cheers as Dace folds Va’aiga’s legs over his shoulders, pinning him down with a deep cover as Soapdish counts again!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

ROYAL BREAKS UP THE PIN! This time, the other Unnamed member runs in and simply stomps on the back of Night’s head, efficiently and effectively stopping Dace. Night gets back up to his feet and gets in Nick Soapdish’s face, asking him why he lets the Unnamed walk all over him. While he does, the barely conscious Va’aiga rolls over towards his corner, and as soon as Soapdish turns around, he makes the tag to Todd Royal! Night welcomes the new challenge with open arms. Actually, he welcomes the new challenge with a bent arm, as he rushes forward and swings his arm around for another big elbow smash, but Royal ducks! Dace’s momentum carries him to the Unnamed’s side of the ropes, and as he hits the ropes, Maddix sends his knee into the small of Night’s back! Dace stumbles forward from the move, and Royal takes advantage of this by hopping forward and shooting his leg out, drilling Dace in the chin with a BIG super kick!

 

*SMACK!*

 

The force of the blow sends Dace right down to the mat, but Royal stays on him. Despite myriad “ROY – AL – SUCKS!” chants, Todd brings Dace up to his feet and keeps him doubled over, holding onto his head. In one swift motion, His Toddness twists around and drops Night down to the mat with a spinning neckbreaker!

 

Comet: As much as I can’t stand his holier than thou attitude, Citizen Royal can truly be an outstanding performer when he wants to be.

 

Riley: But see, Comet, Todd doesn’t WANT to be an outstanding performer all the time; he just IS one. Why do you think he has a God complex about it?

 

This time, Night slowly rises to his feet on his own power, but he’s quickly caught in the midsection with a hard kick from Royal. With his opposition doubled over, Todd traps him in a tight front facelock, but before he can fall backwards, Dace shoots his leg out and hits Todd with a hard kick to the shin! The blow startles Royal, and Night rattles off three more successive kicks. Finally free of the facelock, Night decides to go for a DDT of his own, but as soon as he locks in the front facelock, Royal stealthily lifts his knee up, directly connecting with Night’s testicles, unbeknownst to Nick Soapdish!

 

 

*CHING!*

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Horrorcore drops down to his knees, and regaining his composure, Todd charges at the ropes, rebounds, and launches off of Dace’s knee, swinging his leg around and connecting with ANOTHER shining wizard! As Night falls to the mat, Royal presses down against him in a cover, and Soapdish counts.

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“THR – NO!”

 

Dace kicks out on his own power, and Royal gets off of him and moves to one of the neutral corners, opposite from where Dace is recovering. As the Trinity member rises to his feet, Royal gets a full head of steam going as he runs, lifting his left leg up for an enormous Yakuza Kick…

 

BUT DACE CATCHES THE LEG! Showing great strength, Night takes the outstretched leg and pushes it up, causing Royal to flip backward in the air, landing on his feet! As soon as he does, however, Todd faces a turbulent landing, for as soon as he hits the mat, Dace lifts HIS leg up and smacks Todd across the face with his OWN Yakuza Kick! As Royal falls to the mat, Night uses his last bit of adrenaline to back into his own corner…and TAG IN ANNIE ONITA!

 

Comet: For Neptune’s shadow, Bobbo, Dace Night has shown AMAZING skill, strength, and smarts, but now it’s time for Annie to shine again!

 

Riley: Okay, but why was he doing it for Neptune’s shadow? Who is Neptune, and why is his shadow so important, anyway?

 

Onita releases the tag rope and leaps into the ring, ready for another round of action with Todd Royal. Todd slowly brings himself up to his feet, not completely sure where he is or what he’s doing wrestling a woman. Nevertheless, Annie brings him back up to speed, rattling off a high kick that connects with Todd’s head! The blow staggers Todd back against the corner, and Onita keeps the pressure on, hitting two more successive high kicks to Todd’s head! Royal uses all the speed he can muster to get out of the corner, but as he turns his back to the Hardcore Queen, Annie traps him in a waistlock and fluidly arches backwards, sending him up and over with a big German Suplex! Onita holds onto the bridge and Soapdish counts the pin!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

“THREEEEENO!”

 

As Soapdish’s hand falls for the three count, Landon Maddix makes the save again, this time stomping down on Annie’s stomach to break up the count. Todd rolls onto his stomach to avoid any further conflict, but he doesn’t escape that easily, as Onita pops up and mounts his back, looking to cinch in the Crossface Chickenwing Clutch! However, before she can get the hold locked in completely, Royal races to the ropes, and musters up the strength to grab the bottom rope!

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Annie gets off of Todd but stands close, ready to pounce on him when he gets up. However, as soon as Royal pulls himself up he drops down and scissors Annie’s ankle, executing a drop toe hold that causes her to fall throat-first onto the second rope and fall backwards, flat onto the mat! ! With Onita sidetracked, Royal crawls like a maniac…and he makes the tag to Maddix!

 

Comet: Royal wasn’t able to get much of an advantage at all on Citizen Onita, but hopefully, for the Unnamed, at least, Maddix can turn things around.

 

Maddix rushes into the ring and to put the hurt on Annie further, he leaps up and drops a quick legdrop onto Onita’s windpipe. He quickly gets up and scales the nearest turnbuckle. Facing the crowd, Maddix leaps up and spins around, falling on top of Annie with a corkscrew moonsault…

 

 

BUT NO! Annie gets her knees up! The crowd explodes into chants of “ANN – E!” as Maddix spasms on the mat, holding his back in pain. Onita summons the courage and pluck (courage and pluck!) to crawl towards her corner, as both Dace and Grappler have their hands wildly outstretched (and gripping the ever present tag rope). She lunges forward…AND MAKES THE TAG TO GRAPPLER! As the hairy-chested house of fire charges into the ring, Maddix rolls over, and seeing the Maori Badass ready and willing to be tagged in, he reaches up and tags in the World Champion!

 

Comet: Things are about to heat up, Bobbo, as the World Champion and number one contender are set to square off once again!

 

Riley: We saw what happened before, Comet, and it’s obviously going to be all Va’aiga here.

 

The ICTV Champion charges at the World Champion…but the cunning Va’aiga ducks down and uses Grappler’s momentum to carry him over, flipping him into the air and down to the mat with a Southern Lights Suplex! Va’aiga drops down to cover Matthews, but Charlie doesn’t even give him this opportunity, as he rises up to his feet on his own accord. Out of nowhere, Va’aiga pulls Soapdish away to ‘check on his cheek protector’. The truth is, Landon Maddix scales the top rope, ready to hit a dropkick on the recovering Grappler…but Dace runs across the apron and pulls the top rope down, which causes Landon to lose his balance and fall down crotch-first on the top rope!

 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

 

Night, from his apron position, pulls Maddix off the ropes and onto the apron with him. From there, Dace wraps his arms around his midsection and turns on his heel, where he drops down off the apron and DRILLS Landon with a SPINEBUSTER from the apron down to the floor! As Royal starts to come into the ring to attack Grappler (plan B), Annie rushes into the ring FIRST and as she approaches Todd she leaps into the air, sending her feet forward with a beautiful dropkiss right into the mouth of Royal! The two opponents roll under the bottom rope, and as Va’aiga realizes his plan failed, he begins to beg off.

 

Comet: Unbelievable, look at this coward! He’s begging off like there’s no tomorrow! Unfortunately, there IS going to be a tomorrow…a From the Fire, actually!

 

Riley: …you never cease to amaze me, Comet. Va’aiga’s obviously just thinking up some short term strategy, that’s all.

 

Matthews ignores Va’aiga’s pleads, but the World Champion does the first thing that comes to mind and shoves Nick Soapdish into Grappler. Temporarily sidetracked by this, Charlie doesn’t see Va’aiga charge forward and swing his arm for a HO HO HO BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THIS COMING GRAP, I’M GOING TO DECAPITATE YOU, STICK YOUR HEAD IN A JAR, AND MAKE YOU WATCH MANOS HANDS OF FATE FOR ALL OF ETERNITY LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

But after all the hub-bub, Matthews DUCKS! As Va’aiga’s momentum carries him to the opposite ropes, Charlie charges to the OPPOSITE opposite ropes and swings HIS arm around, catching the incoming Va’aiga with a OH OH OH, I OBVIOUSLY HATE THAT MOVIE SO MUCH THAT I WILL DUCK YOUR PATHETIC LARIATO ATTEMPT AND DEVOUR YOUR SOUL AS I WIN YOUR WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP AT FROM THE FIRE LARIATOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

 

Va’aiga slumps down to the mat, but Matthews’ adrenaline is running in high gear, so he brings the Champ up to his feet and clamps on a front facelock. Sensing what’s coming next, the fans leap out of their seats and begin a loud “CHAAAAAR – LEE!” chant. Matthews uses the waist of Va’aiga’s tights to hoist him up in the air, upside down, where he holds him for five full seconds. In one fluid motion, Matthews snaps around, slamming Va’aiga down with the jackhammer he calls the Wake Up Call!

 

Comet: Holy frijole, Bobbo, the Wake Up Call on the World Champion! This will surely spell the end for the Maori Massacre!

 

Riley: No way, Comet! Royal and Landon are just waiting outside the ring to make the save…come ON guys, what are you DOING?!

 

Grappler holds the position in a pin as Soapdish drops down to count, with the entire arena counting along!

 

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”

 

 

 

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The crowd EXPLODES as “Some Kind of Monster” kicks into gear again. Matthews rolls off of Va’aiga and Dace and Annie reenter the ring, ecstatic in victory.

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this contest, ANNNIIIIIE ‘ICHIBAN’ OOOOONITA, CHAAAAAAAAARLIE ‘GRAPPLER’ MATTHEWS, AND DACE!

 

 

FUCKING!

 

 

 

NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!

 

Soapdish hands Grappler his title belt, as Dace and Annie help him to his feet. Meanwhile, Va’aiga rolls out of the ring, regaining his bearings as he grabs the World Championship and begins walking up the ramp, ignoring Royal and Maddix. He turns and looks back at the victorious trio, slapping his World Title and promising sweet, sweet REVENGE!

 

Comet: For the SECOND time, the World Champion has been pinned! Citizens, it’s almost time for From the Fire, and things are REALLY heating up! For Bobbo Riley, I’m Cyclone Comet, thank you for watching STORM!

 

 

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