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the.weej

SWF From Teh Vault!

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(And now we flash back to the summer of love. August 19th, 2002! Three weeks earlier, Z challanged The Silent One to a hardcore match, much to the chagrin of Midnight Carnival leader Edwin MacPhisto. He lost, in relatively brutal fashion. Thoroughly convinced that Z was not worth his time and continuing his tunnel-vision like focus on MacPhisto, the world champion, Z felt duty called him to intervene and attempt to stop Silent from driving his leader and mentor towards the edge of a mental breakdown. In true Carnie fashion, he'd repaint Silent's $300,000 Diablo in order to goad him into a rematch. A cage match with no way out. No help to come to the rescue, and no escape for Z... the results are below. Enjoy.)

 

The camera focuses ominously on the fifteen-foot tall steel cage that surrounds the ring as the relentlessly cheery sounds of Faith No More’s “Epic” begin to blast their way into the Kemper Arena. “Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, ladies and gentlemen!” yells Mark Stevens over the cheers of the Missouri crowd as the one-letter wonder, Z, emerges from the backstage area into the single spotlight at the top of the entrance ramp. The blue-haired Carnie shuffles his way down the ramp, a rather uncomfortable-looking smile on his face, as Funyon announces his entrance…

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following match will be a cage match! Pinfalls, submissions, knockouts, and disqualifications do not count; the only way to win the match is by climbing over the cage and putting both feet on the floor before your opponent! Introducing first, he hails from Trenton, New Jersey, and weighs in at two hundred and twenty-nine pounds…he is representing the Midnight Carnival….ZEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

Alex Zenon bounces up the steel steps at ringside to the door of the cage. Before he enters, he does a quick pirouette on his heel, bangs off his trademark salute to the crowd, and steps through the ropes, into the cage. He walks briskly to the opposite corner, stopping in the center of the ring to bang off another pirouette and salute to a tremendous pop from the crowd, and curls up in the corner, waiting on the arrival of the Slaughterer.

 

“This match was signed just after Storm, when Z took it upon himself to challenge the Silent One to a cage match by…by…Lord, I hesitate to say it…”

 

”I’ll say it, Bobbi. He spray painted Silent’s Diablo.”

 

”God, what an idiot. He’ll get what’s coming to him, though, once Silent gets out here…”

 

The arena’s lights are abruptly cut off, and the spotlights near the entrance ramp begin to flicker rapidly as Front Line Assembly’s “Retribution (Front 242 Remix)” begins pulsing through the sound system. The Kansas City fans boo resoundingly as white fog begins to billow out from behind the curtain at the top of the ramp, and the Chinese character for “Retribution” flashes on the Smarkstron, towering over the steel cage that surrounds the ring…

 

“Introducing second, he hails from Phoenix, Arizona, and weighs in at two hundred and forty-eight pounds…he is representing the Clan…SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILENT!”

 

”Retribution” hits a particularly screeching pitch as the Silent One enters through the fog, cane in his right hand, trenchcoat billowing behind him, pulling wisps of white fog along with it. The Slaughterer makes his way –slowly- to ringside, eying the steel cage surrounding his opponent with an uncharacteristic glee. Silent removes his coat and hands it, along with his cane, to Eddy Long at ringside before climbing the steps to the door of the cage. The Clansman stares at Z, who rises to his feet at the sight of his opponent, for a long moment…and steps through the ropes.

 

**DING DING**

 

”And here we go!” shouts ‘Grand Slam’, as Eddy Long closes the door behind Silent. The referee locks the door with a feeble *click* as the Slaughterer leisurely walks to the center of the ring. Z grabs hold of the ropes with nervous anticipation…he looks at Silent, then at the cage…Silent, then the cage…Silent…cage…Silent…cage….

 

 

 

Z turns his back on the Silent One and begins scrambling up the side of the cage!

 

“Z’s trying to end this match early on!” says Stevens, doing his best to suppress a rather unprofessional giggle.

 

“Mark, tell me you aren’t serious. Z’s frickin’ scared of Silent, and with a good reason, too! Did you SEE what happened to the Diablo before Storm?”

 

”I did, Bobbi…heh…it’s a terrible…heh heh….thing to see…”

 

The Kemper Arena is evenly divided between laughter and cheers as the blue-haired one frantically claws his way up the steel as Silent charges towards him…only to be stopped by a ferocious forearm shot to his exposed back! Silent hammers away on his Carnie opponent, driving forearm after forearm into Z’s ribs, bringing him down from the side of cage. A particularly hard shot causes Z to fall awkwardly into a sitting position, landing BUTT-first on the ropes, his legs dangling between the apron and the cage.

 

An aggravated Silent One attempts to pull Z from the ropes, but the one-letter wonder latches onto the cage with a Greco-Roman White-Knuckle Grip, yelling various colorful phrases as Silent hammers away on his back and ribs once again. The ring mics pick up snatches of the conversation between the two men…

 

“Urgh…get…off…of there…and take…what’s coming…to you, boy!”

 

“Ow, ow! No! OW! CHEQUE, PLEASE!”

 

Silent releases his grip on Z’s waist…and swings around Z’s head with his left arm, CLOCKING the Carnie across the face with a vicious crossface shot! Stunned, Zenon releases the ropes…and the Slaughterer launches him backwards with a TREMENDOUSLY elevated German Suplex, dropping the one-letter wonder square on his neck in the center of the ring! A chorus of boos rings out from the front row as Silent approaches the motionless Z….

 

“Good God! Z’s attempt at an early escape seems to have backfired tremendously!” hollers Mark as the Slaughterer stops away at his opponent’s head and back. “Taking such a devastating shot to the head this early in the match can’t bode well for the eventual outcome!”

 

Silent grabs hold of Z’s right arm, places it between his legs, and rolls forward, forcing Z to roll with him towards the ropes, and slams the Carnie into the mat, applying an armbar at the same time! Z grasps at the bottom rope, and Eddy Long begins yelling at the Slaughterer from outside the cage door, but Silent only smiles at the referee, and pulls back even harder on the armbar.

 

“Sound strategy by Silent,” notes Riley. “If Z can’t use his right arm, he can’t scamper up the cage quite as fast.”

 

Stevens looks a little confused by Riley’s use of the word ‘scamper’ as Silent wrenches back on Z’s right arm, drawing a howl of pain from the one-letter wonder as he claws at the ropes in vain. Seeing that Z is still very much conscious of both the pain and his surroundings, the Clansman stands up and drags Z away from the ropes, keeping hold of his right arm as he does so. Silent gives his opponent’s arm a sharp pull, forcing him to roll onto his stomach to relieve the pressure, and applies a hammerlock to keep the blue-haired one face-down on the mat.

 

Silent begins to carefully, methodically drive his knee into Z’s shoulder once…twice…three…four times, eliciting a yelp from the Carnie with each strike. Silent releases the hammerlock and stands…backs up to the ropes…and crushes Z’s right shoulder with a running knee drop!

 

“Silent’s in control very early in this match…if he can dictate the pace, as he’s so fond of doing, this could get very messy, very soon for Z…”

 

Z clutches at his shoulder, trying to block out the pain, but Silent grabs a handful of the Carnie’s electric-blue hair and pulls him to his feet. The Silent One connects with two quick forearm shots to the face before taking hold of Z’s right arm and twisting his entire body to the right, taking Zenon to the canvas with an Arm Dragon Screw.

 

“Another knee drop to Z’s right shoulder….and another…and another…Jesus, Riley, this is going to be a massacre! Silent could win this match at any time with the condition Z is in…why doesn’t he just start climbing the damn cage already?”

 

“I told you, Mark, Silent’s coming into this match to punish Z. He gave this kid a way out of their first match, he didn’t take it, and nearly got killed…oh, nice one,” whistles Riley as Silent drives Z’s head into the mat with a hammerlock DDT. “Anyway, Z didn’t learn his lesson the first time around, and he…did…something…terrible to Silent’s Diablo. He’s not getting out of this match without a little bit of pain and suffering, I think.”

 

Riley chuckles to himself as he contemplates how much pain and suffering Silent has already inflicted on the young Carnie, who lies in the center of the ring, holding his right shoulder and wondering if the “I <3 Midnight Carnival” decal was a little bit too much. Silent interrupts his opponent’s musing with a quick leg drop to the back of the neck, leaving Z unsure which body part he should cradle in pain first. Satisfied with the condition of his opponent’s shoulder, Silent picks Z up from the mat by the hair, grabs hold of his right arm and twists it sharply, and whips him across the ring. Z comes bounding back towards the Slaughterer, who waits patiently to deliver a potent spinebuster to his opponent…

 

…And Z connects with a wild Arm Grenade with his left arm, knocking Silent back into the cage! The Clansman’s back connects with the steel with a resounding CLANG!, and the Kansas City crowd suddenly comes alive for the littlest Carnie! Z whips Silent across the ring this time, –wincing a little as he does so- and, as the Slaughterer comes sprinting back, murder in his eyes, Z connects with a running, LEAPING variation of the Arm Grenade! Silent crashes to the canvas, and Z scrambles to his feet, scurrying up the cage as the Silent One rolls forward from a prone position…and misses Z’s ankle by the merest of inches!

 

“Z with a pair of Arm Grenades out of nowhere, and it looks like he might make it out of the cage tonight with his hide intact!” bellows Mark, as Z continues to climb and Silent groggily gets to his feet…

 

…But his right arm gives out inches from the top! Z clutches at it with his left hand instinctively, doing his best to tough it out and continue his slow ascent…

 

Before realizing he just.

 

Let go.

 

Of the cage.

 

Whoops.

 

Z falls swiftly towards the canvas as cameras flash throughout the Kemper Arena, capturing his fall on film just as Silent makes it to the cage…and looks up. Z turns himself around on the way down, ostensibly to get better acquainted with the oncoming canvas, but instead meets the surprised face of Silent!

 

“Cross-body block from the top of the cage!”

 

“Bullshit! He fell on him, that lucky little bastard!”

 

”It works out the same way in the end, Bobbi, and that’s what counts!”

 

The one-letter wonder and the quiet psychopath crash to the mat together in a heap, with Z just barely getting the better of the exchange. He staggers a little bit as he gets to his feet, but he steadies himself with the ropes. The one-letter wonder looks out at the crowd, then looks down at Silent, who is beginning to stir…Z bangs off one of his trademark salutes to the crowd, then hooks the Silent One’s arms and legs, a twinkle in his eyes…

 

“It’s the Nelbina, ladies and gentlemen! Z has the Nelbina hooked on Silent!” laughs Stevens, and the crowd laughs along with him as Z proceeds to pose Silent into submission, perched upon the Slaughterer’s back like a particularly annoying bird.

 

“Z’s gone too far this time!” yells Riley.

 

Z strikes another pose.

 

“He can’t afford to be showboating like this in the right with the Silent One!”

 

Z strikes a heroic pose.

 

“This is just making things worse for him, I know it!” screams Riley, spraying the announce table with flecks of spittle.

 

Z strikes a heroically stupid pose.

 

“Oh, shut up and let the kid have his fun, Bobbi!” snickers Mark as Z unties himself from Silent’s back. “It’s not every day you see Silent taking part in a joke, willingly or not!”

 

Z looks down at Silent in a puzzled fashion, who is rapidly regaining his senses and thinking increasingly violent thoughts, wondering how to follow up the Nelbina…and settles on the Reverse Chinlock of Eternal Pain and Endless Suffering! The audience is treated to another laugh as Silent, more annoyed than injured, is subjected to the ranting of Z while he’s caught in the Reverse Chinlock of etcetera, etcetera…

 

“TAP! TAP, YOU FOOL! NO MAN CAN WITHSTAND THE REVERSE CHINLOCK OF ETERNAL PAIN AND ENDLESS SUFFERING!” hollers the one-letter wonder, loud enough that he can clearly be heard over the cheers and shouts of the Kemper Arena. An aggravated Silent, sadly unfazed by Z’s devastating arsenal of submission maneuvers, responds by twisting to the right and rolling towards the center of the ring and out of the reverse chinlock. The Slaughterer rises to his feet, murder in his crystal-blue eyes…and he’s met with a dropkick from the littlest Carnie! Silent stumbles backwards…but does not fall.

 

“I think Z has made him angry now, Mark,” mutters Riley. Silent shakes his head slowly, as if to say, “No, not good enough,” to Z, who quickly backs up…

 

CRACK!

 

…And lunges forward with a superkick, catching Silent squarely in the jaw! “Blizzard of oZ!” yells Mark Stevens…but Silent simply holds his ground, unimpressed. “Hah!” cackles Riley. “It didn’t even faze him!”

 

The Clansman slowly cracks his neck and raises one hand, beckoning Z forward…the blue-haired one charges screaming at the Silent One, left arm outstretched for another Arm Grenade…

 

…Pulls up short, and drops the Slaughterer to the mat with a mighty kick to the nuts!

 

“Galatea Special from the Carnie, and Silent is down for the count!”

 

“Mark, we’ve talked about this before. There’s nothing special about the Galatea Special; he just kicked him in the jumblies!”

 

“Shut up, Bobbi!”

 

Z hops over Silent, who lies doubled over on the mat, and bounces onto the second turnbuckle. The one-letter wonder salutes the crowd to a rather large pop before leaping off the ropes and onto his opponent, driving an elbow into Silent’s chest. He hooks the leg of the Silent One, pinning his shoulders to the mat…and promptly slaps himself in the forehead as he realizes there are no pinfalls to be counted.

 

“A bit of a tactical error by your Carnie friend, Mark,” grins Riley as Z sheepishly smiles and gets to his feet.

 

“Bah, we all make mistakes, Riley. Remember that time you thought NTD was really a…”

 

”Shut up, Mark. Just shut up.”

 

“Besides, Bobbi,” says Grand Slam as Z drops an elbow on Silent…and another elbow, and another elbow, and another elbow. “Alex seems to be in control of this match at last!”

 

The blue-haired one pulls the Slaughterer to his feet and whips him across the ring, being sure this time to whip him with his LEFT arm…

 

“Z ducks a Roaring Elbow…Z ducks a Burning Lariat…Z ducks a second lariat…wait, reversal!”

 

As Silent swings his arm hard at Zenon’s head, the Carnie fluidly dodges and circles around behind his opponent! Z grabs an inverted facelock, bending Silent backwards, and drives him to the canvas with a powerful elbow shot!

 

“Turn ‘n Burn, a move popularized by former World champion Divefire, and adapted by Z!” Mark points out helpfully, and the one-letter wonder makes a run for the cage!

 

“The Carnie’s making a break for it!” spits Riley. “Afraid of the Silent One, just as I suspected.”

 

“If he’s so afraid of him, Riley, then why did he leave Silent laying on the mat?”

 

”He didn’t, Stevens. Take a look at your monitor, huh?”

 

Sure enough, back inside the cage, the Silent One is already on his feet! Silent angrily stalks over to where Z is climbing, one-handed, towards the top, grabs hold of both the Carnie’s ankles, and yanks him off of the cage! Silent lets go and steps to the left, out of the way, as the one-letter wonder falls crashing to the mat!

 

“Ow! He’s going to feel that one tomorrow morning,” notes Riley as Silent pulls Z to his feet…and SLAMS his face into the side of the cage, rocking the structure’s very foundations with the force of the blow! Z collapses into a camouflaged heap, and the audience lets loose a sympathetic groan as the Slaughterer pulls him up from the mat…and rams his face into the cage once again!

 

“Silent seems to have taken offense to Z’s Galatea Special earlier in the match, and he’s getting a measure of revenge for it, it seems!”

 

”Yeah, and maybe a measure of revenge for what Z did to his car on Storm, huh?”

 

”Riley, quit harping on the Diablo. Just because you drive a frickin’ Focus doesn’t mean you need to get all worked up over somebody else’s nicer car.”

 

”Hey, now…you leave my Focus alone…”

 

The camera cuts away from a defensive Bobby Riley to the ring, where the Silent One is grinding Z’s face harshly against the links of the steel cage. Silent pulls Z back from the cage by his hair, and the camera captures a shot of Z’s forehead gushing blood all over the ring as he falls to the canvas.

 

“Houston, we have a 0.7 Muta in the ring…”

 

”Riley, shut up.”

 

”Hee hee hee…come on, Mark, that one was funny.”

 

Silent hauls the bloodied Carnie to his feet, hooks a full-nelson, and heaves backwards, dropping Z on his head for the second time in the match! Silent pulls him up again…and hurls him backwards with another Dragon Suplex! The Slaughterer pulls his opponent up once more to complete his trademark Chasing The Dragon maneuver…and he sidesteps another Galatea Special from the blue-haired one before hurling him backwards onto his neck for a third and final time!

 

“Three Dragon Suplexes delivered with neck-breaking intensity from the Silent One!” Riley yells excitedly as Silent rises to his feet.

 

The Silent One sits on Z’s right shoulder, placing all his weight on the Carnie’s back, and pulls backwards on Z’s right arm, locking in a reverse armbar from a sitting position, preventing the one-letter wonder from rolling out of the hold. “Silent’s going right back to that right arm of Z’s!” notes Stevens. “An extremely sound strategy, given that it’s already kept Z from escaping once!”

 

Silent wretches back with both arms on Z’s right shoulder, drawing shouts of pain and general unhappiness from the blue-haired one, who claws at the canvas, trying his best to block out the pain. The Slaughterer bends Z’s wrist back with his left hand, applying pressure in yet another area of Z’s battered right arm, before releasing the hold.

 

Silent pulls Z to his feet and walks him into the center of the ring. The Silent One applies an arm wringer to the one-letter wonder’s right arm, gives it a harsh tug, and floors Z with a swift hook kick! Z crashes to the mat, sending a few drops of blood onto Silent’s pants leg as he does so. Silent begins kicking relentlessly at Z’s head and ribs, driving his blood-splattered boots into his opponent with a calculated fury as the boos and jeers of the Missouri crowd reach a new decibel level.

 

“Silent is just dominating Z right now!” giggles Riley. “Three Dragon Suplexes…if I wasn’t so into this match, I’d think we should call it off right about now!”

 

Z flails his limbs wildly, trying to get to his feet, but only manages to make it to one knee before Silent grabs a handful of wild blue hair again and yanks him the rest of the way upwards. The Clansman pulls Z’s right arm over his shoulder and pulls down hard, almost popping the Carnie’s arm right out of its socket. He repeats it once…twice…three times before spinning around, grabbing a hammerlock, and cinching Z up for a gutwrench suplex…

 

“The nerve of Silent!” spits Stevens.

 

“What?”

 

”That move he’s going for is called the Midnight Carnival. Z is in the Carnival. Think about it a little bit, Bobbi.”

 

”Oh…heh heh. I like it. I like it a lot.”

 

Mark Stevens sighs as Silent gets set to lift his smaller opponent up…Z grapevines Silent’s leg and blocks the suplex! Silent tries again…and Z blocks in the same fashion! Frustrated, the Silent One releases the hammerlock to pound on the one-letter wonder’s exposed back…and suddenly doubles over in pain as the littlest Carnie drives his knee directly into his opponent’s groin!

 

“Galatea Special, number two!”

 

”Mark, I told you about that.”

 

”And I told you to shut up, Bobbi!”

 

Silent doubles over, clutching his groin, but does not fall. Z stumbles out of the waistlock…grabs Silent’s left arm, throws his leg over Silent’s neck, and smashes the Clannite into the canvas with the Krazy Krash!

 

Z stumbles away from Silent, trying desperately to reach the cage and capitalize on his desperation counter, but Silent bounces back up from the mat, a bloody nose the only visible effect of the Krazy Krash!

 

The Slaughterer charges, looking for a Burning Lariat, but Z sidesteps Silent’s arm and cinches him up for a Russian Legsweep…Silent counters with an elbow to the side of Z’s head and hooks the Carnie’s leg, lifts him up, and slams him back down with a devastating Backflip Slam! Z bounces once as he hits the mat, and Silent stands…

 

Satisfied that the Silence Special will keep the Carnie down, Silent confidently heads towards the cage…as Z pushes himself up to his knees!

 

“Z’s getting up, Riley, and Silent doesn’t see him! The Silent One’s indifference to the crowd is about to bite him in the ass!”

 

”Turn around, Silent, TURN AROUND!”

 

But the Clansman is oblivious to Riley’s warning as he begins to climb the far side of the cage. Closer and closer the Silent One comes to the top, only a few feet away from victory…until something starts pulling at his left leg!

 

The crowd explodes as Z, wiping the blood from his eyes, pulls courageously on Silent’s leg like a small but very agitated dog from the turnbuckle! More annoyed than concerned, Silent absently tries to kick the littlest Carnie away from him so he can continue his climb to victory…

 

…And the Silent One overbalances…

 

…loses his grip on the steel cage…

 

…And falls back to the canvas!

 

“Silent’s down! Silent’s down! Z’s back in this matchup!” hollers Mark Stevens, and the crowd begins to chat the one-letter wonder’s somewhat abbrieviated name:

 

“ZEE! ZEE! ZEE! ZEE!”

 

Silent collapses to the mat, momentarily stunned, leaving Z perched on the turnbuckle. The blue-haired Carnie grins and salutes the crowd…jumps, spins, and bounces off the ropes…

 

“SHOTGUN MOONSAULT!” hollers Mark Stevens, and indeed it is, as Z springs off the ropes, flies less than gracefully through the air, and lands smack dab on Silent’s chest! “Z just hit his finishing maneuver, and that might be enough to put this match away!”

 

Z grins, fairly impressed with his own handiwork, as Silent writhes on the mat in pain. Not wanting to waste any more time, the one-letter wonder hurries over to the side of the cage, and begins to climb…

 

The Kemper Arena is fully behind the littlest Carnie as he fights his way up the cage, bad arm and all, inch by unforgiving inch. “Silent’s only just now stirring, and Z’s almost to the top!” hollers Stevens. “He’s almost got it won…wait a minute!”

 

The volume of the crowd rises a decibel or two as Z throws one leg over the top of the cage…then changes to a collective gasp as Silent leaps onto the cage and grabs hold of his hair, preventing the blue-haired one from getting any farther!

 

“How the hell does he move that fast?” wonders Riley, as the Slaughterer pulls himself up to the top of the cage, keeping hold of Z’s hair as he does so. The Carnie desperately tries to fight him off with a barrage of punches to the head and shoulders, but Silent shrugs them off and fires off two quick elbow strikes to Z’s temple!

 

His opponent stunned, Silent braces his feet between the links of the cage and hooks Z’s left leg, using his other hand to hold onto the top of the cage and keep his balance. A low murmur runs through the Missouri crowd as the two men stand precariously on top of the cold, hard steel…

 

“Silent’s got Z set up for something I…can’t quite make out,” mutters Stevens as he squints at the monitor.

 

Suddenly, Grand Slam’s eyes widen. “Oh, no. Wait a minute. He’s not going to…oh, SHIT!”

 

The Silent One releases his hold on the cage and quickly cinches up Z with his free hand, as if he were going for a suplex…before leaping backwards, OFF THE TOP OF THE CAGE, with his Carnival opponent in tow!

 

They fall…

 

They fall…

 

And they land.

 

CRASH!

 

“Unbelievable!” breathes Riley, and a gigantic “HO-LY SHIT!” chant breaks out to emphasize the point. “Silent just…just PLASTERED Z with a Fisherman’s Buster from the top of the cage! I’m surprised there aren’t little tiny Z chunks around the ring!”

 

”That was sickening, Riley! Z might need medical attention after that…Jesus, they’ve been in there for fifteen minutes, and Z is a bloody mess!”

 

Neither man moves for a long, long moment…until the Silent One sits up, more than a little winded after a fifteen-foot drop from the top of the cage. He rises to his feet, a little unsteadily, and walks over to the cage, begins to climb amidst a hail of boos…

 

…And stops. The Slaughterer turns his head and looks down at Z, who lies staring up at the lights in the center of the ring, blood streaming from the gashes opened in his forehead by the steel cage.

 

Silent hops off of the cage, landing deftly on his feet next to his fallen opponent…and drags Z to his feet, slings him over his shoulder…and begins to climb again!

 

“What in the blue hell is he doing?” wonders Stevens, as Silent inches closer to the top of the cage. “He’s practically won this match…why is he carrying Z…?” A light dawns in Mark Stevens’ eyes as Silent reaches the top of the cage…and looks down at the announce table.

 

“Mark…um…I think we should move, now.”

 

”Riley, I’m going to have to agree with you there.”

 

The two announcers hurry out of the way as Silent props the bloodied one-letter wonder up on the top of the cage, both men balancing precariously on the edge…

 

“Time for a gut check, boy!” screams Silent as the announcers scurry over to the Spanish announce table, looking in vain for an extra pair of headsets. The Slaughterer’s voice rings out, fifteen feet in the air, high above the crowd in the Kemper Arena…

 

“Do you want to win…or…do you want…to live?”

 

Through blood-encrusted lips, Z mumbles his answer. Only the Silent One hears the whispered words of the one-letter wonder…

 

”I want…to beat you.”

 

“What’s going on up there?” hollers Mark Stevens through his newly acquired headset. “We can’t hear anything…can we get a…oh, no.”

 

Stevens stares, his face pale, as Silent braces his feet against the cage and carefully picks Z up…into position for the Fall From Grace.

 

“There’s no way he can…Silent will kill himself when he falls off the cage, and damn it, he’ll take Alex with him!”

 

“It’s too late to turn back now, Mark! Z knew what he was asking for when he challenged Silent to this match, and I’ll be damned if he’s not about to get it!”

 

With an effort visible from fifteen feet below him, Silent lifts Z above his head. Both men totter dangerously on the edge for a long, long moment…

 

…Before Silent hurls Z from the cage…

 

 

All.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To the ground.

 

**CRASH!**

 

“Sweet merciful crap!” screams Stevens. Z lies motionless in the rubble of the English announce table as Funyon calls for the somewhat anti-climatic bell…

 

**DING DING**

 

”Your winner…ZEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

”Epic” hits the speakers, and Z’s video plays….but it all seems terribly, terribly out of place.

 

“Well, folks, Z is…is the winner, as it were, in this match, but my God, at what a price!”

 

Paramedics rush out to ringside, two of them carrying a stretcher, as “Epic” plugs away. Silent stands still at the top of the cage, looking ominously down on his handiwork as Z is hoisted onto the stretcher and carried back up the ramp.

 

“Riley, I know that Z asked for this match, but…my God, Silent may have ended his career.” The camera centers on a grim-faced Mark Stevens. “Folks, give us a few minutes to clean up on our end and we’ll be right back for the main event, where Lerrin Breggan and Chris Wilson will take on Edwin MacPhisto and Longdogger Pete, with two ringside enforcers…the Hardcore champion, Jay Dawg, and…and that man up there…”

 

The camera returns briefly to Silent, who still stands atop the cage, arms outstretched in the crucifix pose, before we starwipe to a commercial…

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