SWF Smarkdown, July 12... er, 13th!

[the.weej 0]

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

 

The rounds of Smarkdown’s opening pyro slowly fade away along with the opening flash of lights from high in the arena. The Mellon Arena is packed from top to bottom with screaming Pennsylvania fans from across the state. The usual super fans and expert sign makes can been seen dotted around the crowd as well. The camera pans around, across the huge set and the trail end of the opening video package on the SmarkTron, all the way around to Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley at ringside.

 

Comet: Hello Citizens and welcome to the latest, greatest, most elated edition of SWF Smarkdown. You’re here with me, CYYYYCCCCLLLLOOOONNNNNEEE COMET!

 

Riley: And me, the man with the bigger pay check and the bigger packet… Bobby “Backstage Pull” Riley. Don’t all rush at once folks, can’t have accidents.

 

Comet: I don’t think they’re rushing in your direct. Looks like the road crew has broken out the T-shirt gun again. And my superhero eyes can see some girl on girl events up in the bleachers.

 

Riley: That’s disgusting, how can such vile and disturbed acts be going on at a family wrestling event like the SWF puts on?

 

Comet: Because that means family event also covers people bleeding after being hit with light tubes and near neck breaking stunts?

 

A crackle breaks across the PA system and the crowd explodes as the Melodic Death Metal strains of Hero scream into life across the arena. The pyro blasts from the ramp light up the arena even more than the house lights to. Finally a huge blast at the top leaves a cloud of smoke and the shadowy figure of Dace Night slowly strolling out.

 

DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT!

 

Riley: Oh jesus no! What did I do to deserve this? Dace can’t even wait for his match to come out here and bore me to death!

 

Comet: I think Dace has something to say Robert. Maybe you should listen. He might even mention Flesher. I’m sure that’d make you happy.

 

Climbing up into the ring, Dace calls for a house mic to be thrown to him. Catching it, Night flicks it on and raises it to his mouth. Looking around at the cheering and chanting fans, Dace gives a slight grin and a nod before he starts to talk.

 

Dace: Well, well people. You know I’m not out here to talk like this much because I’m not very good at it. But I’m out here because there’s something important to say. It’s about the World Title and it’s about Janus.

 

Rrrrrrrraaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

 

Dace: So Toxxic and Flesher have shots at the World Title. Good for them, I’ll make no secret that I want my own shot at the World Title as well. I want to be SWF World Champion. But right now, there’s far bigger, that problem is Janus. Janus is a monster and a destroyer. And sooner or later someone is going to have to stop him.

 

Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhh!

 

Dace: But Flesher and Toxxic aren’t worried about that. They just want to win the Title. But as much as I want that World Title, I know I want to be a hero and hero slay monsters. Whatever they are and how big they are. So Janus, if you hold onto that World Title or not, I’m going to come after. I will fight you however I have to. The SWF has it’s monsters, but it also has it’s heroes. And now it’s time for this hero to be killing the dragon.

 

Yyyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

 

DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT!

 

Throwing the horns up the fans, Dace throws the mic back to the time keeper and rolls out of the ring, striding back up the ramp and to the back as the fans continue to chant for him.

 

Comet: The White Night almost issued a challenge. He wants the World Title, but he also wants to take care of the monster that is Janus.

 

Riley: Oh, how greedy can you beat. He wants the belt, he wants a huge battle, he wants to slay the dragon. Blah, blah, blah. I hope that didn’t cost us too many viewers Comet.

 

Comet: We’ll see what comes off this Robert. But hold on Citizens, we’ll be right back with the first of tonight’s hot SWF action!

 

Fade out.

[the.weej 0]

Card:

 

MAIN EVENT

HANDICAP MATCH

Janus vs Alan Clark and Edward James (the WAYWARD SONS!)

The World Champion is off of suspension, and with his steely gaze he sees two men who want what is his. The time will come to deal with them, but for now, he must prepare. The monster champion actually REQUESTED a handicap match to prove his mettle, and to show Flesher and Toxxic that it doesn't matter if they work together against him or against each other. Each way, they will lose. The Wayward Sons aren't exactly pleased with being a rung on the ladder of Janus' preparation though. Once they slay the monster, it's only a hop, skip, and a jump to Hollywood Boulevard and their Tag Team Titles!

Rules: Only two men in the ring at any given time. Clark and James must tag in and out. DQs and countouts.

 

SINGLES MATCH FOR THE USJL CHAMPIONSHIP

Masked Man vs Todd Cortez

Cortez has a very real problem. Van Siclen abandoned him in favor of Polynesian loving. Next week on Storm he must defend the Tag Titles, and he doesn't have a surplus of friends. That said, Commissioner Zenon was kind of enough to give him a title match against the... unique... Masked Man! This should help Cortez find his fighting spirit. That of course assumes that the Sexual Maskosaurus does not gouge out his eyes with a box cutter.

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

SINGLES MATCH ALSO UNDER CRUISERWEIGHT RULES

"The Superior One" Tom Flesher vs Ced Ordonez

Toxxic isn't alone in trying to send a message tonight. Flesher demanded a smaller opponent, so he could further show Toxxic that "anything he can do I can do better." Ced Ordonez could be in for one heck of a night... but a win here could mean strapping the Cross Wizard to a rocket all the way to the top of the card!

Rules: Cruiserweight rules also

 

SINGLES MATCH

Manson vs "The Corona" Vladimir Everheart

Mr. Everheart is the proud new owner of an SWF contract! Tonight we get to see what he is made of as he takes on our welcoming committee!

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

TAG MATCH

Ryan Dustin and Johnny Dangerous vs Martin "Big Country" Hunt and Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix

Each team consists of a champion and a contender. Dustin, our HCG champ, is currently being pursued by "Big Country," in addition to being savagely beaten by Austin Sly during the previous two shows. Mr. Maddix is fixed firmly in the Secret Agent's sights. So, a random thrown together tag match you say? I'm hurt. No, this tag match actually has something on the line... the winning team may name the stipulations of the title matches that they will find themselves in shortly! No matter who wins, one champion and one contender will have a serious advantage when the Commissioner schedules their shot at the gold!

Rules: standard tag rules. the winning team gets to name the stipulation for their respective title matches.

 

SINGLES MATCH

Toxxic vs Jamie Drazon

Toxxic is very, very cross. Flesher irks him terribly, and it is time he was sent another message of impending blood loss. And so our boy Toxxic requested a match against a veteran competitor and a mainstay of the SWF for many years. Zenon chuckled, and booked the Hardcore Maniac. Will JD absolutely discombobulate Toxxic, or will the Straight Edge Sensation show that skill and experience is no match for the WILL TO DOMINATE?!

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

SINGLES MATCH

The Birdman vs Petey the Irish Penguin

Really, this introduction match for the Birdman booked itself. Let's see what the new guy can do against our very own Gael in a penguin suit!

Rules: standard singles match

 

HARDCORE MATCH

Ace Lezaire vs Rob Gilbert

Ace Lezaire is a little cranky about the main event of the last show. He would like to take his frustration out on someone, and Robzilla was kind enough to volunteer. Hopefully there will be something left for the buzzards...

Rules: no countout, no dqs.

 

SINGLES MATCH

Sean Davis vs Dace Night

Sean Davis has been cutting a swath in his first few weeks, and now it is time to see if he has the skills to hang with the big boys. And here in the SWF they do not get any bigger than Dace Night. If Davis should win, his place in the upper midcard is assured. If Dace should win, it is one more notch on a very notched weedwhacker...

Rules: standard singles match

 

SINGLES MATCH FOR THE CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP

Austin Sly vs "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins

Austin has made Ryan Dustin his personal bi-... well, he hasn't been very nice to him. Sly barged into Commissioner Zenon's office, demanding the opportunity to become a double champion! Z tersely informed him that not only was there already a #1 contender to the HCG Title he wanted so badly, but that before Sly even got the chance at Dustin he had to take care of some business in the cruiserweight division. Enter Spike Jenkins. Jenkins has recently aligned himself with Toxxic, and the results have been predictable. What effect will this alliance have on this guaranteed to put asses in seats show opener? I don't know, but I think we're all going to enjoy finding out.

Rules: Cruiserweight rules

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SWF Smarkdown returns from its previous commercial break. The fans in Mellon Arena rise to their feet, waving signs and cheering. The crowd is happy after seeing Dace Night open the show, and watching Judge Mental job in a dark match. Boy, do they hate Judge. Anyway, the camera cuts down to the announcer’s table where Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley sit.

 

 

“Welcome all, to SWF SMARKDOWN! I am your host…”

 

“I AM YOUR HOST! Bobby Riley! Ha!”

 

“Why did you cut me off, Robert?”

 

“Because, you always get to say your name first. I wanted a turn!” cries Riley.

 

“Okay…AND I’M CYCLOOOOOOOOOONE COMET!”

 

“Hey Comet, who do you think is going to win the main event? Janus, or the Wayward Sons?” asks Riley.

 

“Well, if the Wayward Sons work as a unit, I can see them coming up with the win.”

 

“HA! YOU IDIOT! Janus is going to slaughter them!”

 

“That is your opinion.”

 

“And my opinion is the truth.” Says Riley.

 

“Well, let’s get on with the show. The opening match will be for the SWF Cruiserweight Championship. Austin Sly, a top contender to Ryan Dustin’s Hardcore Gamers Title, will defend his own title tonight. And the man he defends it against is none other than “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!”

 

“Now that Spike is following Toxxic, he has been on a win streak!”

 

“He’s had one match since joining Toxxic…”

 

“AND HE WON IT!”

 

“Let’s go to the ring…”

 

In the middle of the ring, Funyon stands holding an index card in one hand and a microphone in the other.

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and IS FOR THE SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! First, THE CHALLENGER!”

 

The techno beats of Darude’s “Sandstorm” begins playing over the announce system, as…

 

 

*BOOM*

 

 

…White pyrotechnics goes off on each side of the stage. “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins appears out from the backstage area, followed by his fellow stable mate, Jet. Spike stops at the entrance ramp, the hood of his jacket covering his head, while he stares at the ground. Spike flips the hood off his head, throwing his arms out in a cocky manner for the whole world to see. Spike and Jet begin to make their way down to the ring.

 

”Making his way to the ring. He weighs in at a total of Two Hundred and Twenty Five pounds. He hails from Hollywood, California. He is accompanied to the ring by Jet, and is a follower of Toxxic! He is “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins!!!

 

Spike mocks the fans in the front row, as he climbs up the steel steps onto the ring apron. He walks across the ring apron, proclaiming his ignorance to the fans with his arms in the air. Spike steps through the ring ropes, and peels his jacket off. He tosses it to Jet at ringside.

 

“Spike Jenkins seems focused, and ready. Austin Sly is going to have to bring his A game tonight.”

 

Spike walks around the ring, doing some pre-match stretches. Jet stands at ringside, bringing all the support she can.

 

“AND HIS OPPONENT!”

 

The arena lights turn a dark cooling shade of blue to signal the imminent arrival of Austin Sly. The sound of an acoustic guitar playing a hard driving riff floats out over the arena but it is almost completely drowned out by the fans showing their utter loathe for the man. Austin emerges from behind the curtains with only a slight cocky smirk to show any emotion on his face and the SWF Cruiserweight Championship around his waist. He makes his way to the edge of the stage to do his pre-match stretches before NTD appears from the curtains behind him. They both begin to make their way towards the ringside area.

 

“Accompanied to the ring by the “SWF Legend NTD”. He weighs in at a total of Two Hundred and Thirty Pounds. He hails from St. Louis, Missouri. He is the current reigning, and defending SWF Cruiserweight Champion! HE IS AUSTIN SLY!!!

 

Austin jumps up onto the ring apron and hooks his arm on the top rope. He looks through the arena, not focusing on anyone or anything in the crowd, just taking it in before he climbs into the ring through the middle rope. As he enters the ring, he unhooks the Cruiserweight title from around his waist, handing it to Referee Soapdish. Soapdish presents the title to Spike, and then places it overhead for the whole world to see.

 

“And that is what it’s all about. To prove you are the top cruiserweight in the world.” Notes Comet.

 

Soapdish hands the title to a ringside crewmember. He checks with both competitors, and when ready, he signals for the bell.

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

“This match is underway!”

 

With the sound of the bell, both men enter the ring. Instead of the expected trash talking-fest, they both dive into a collar-and-elbow tie up. Sly takes the early advantage with a go behind, locking in a hammerlock.

 

“A quick start into the technical aspect of wrestler. Sly with the go behind and a very basic hammerlock.” Says Comet.

 

Sly pulls back on Spike’s wrist, applying pressure to the shoulder. Spike tries to shake it off, but the hold is held on tight. On the outside of the ring, NTD is shouting words of encouragement to his protégé. Sly notices this, and shouts back to his mentor, “A Piece of…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

…Sly is unable to finish his sentence as a back elbow from Spike has connected with his jaw. The impact of the move causes Sly to break his hold, and stumble backwards. As he holds his jaw, he looks up at the cocky grin of the man that caught him off guard. As the two stare off, Spike takes the time to mouth off to his opponent…

 

 

 

 

 

“A Piece of Cake.”

 

 

 

 

“YOU BOTH SUCK! YOU BOTH SUCK! DIE! DIE! YOU BOTH SUCK!”

 

 

 

“The fan’s are making their opinion heard.”

 

“Who cares what the fan’s opinion’s are? Spike Jenkins just clobbered Austin Sly in the face! There has to be a rule against it!”

 

“Citizen Sly should not have been acting so cocky. Neither should Citizen Jenkins, come to think of it…”

 

 

The now infuriated Austin Sly charges at his opponent. Spike steps out of the way, but Sly continues into the ropes. He bounces off the ropes and comes charging back towards the challenger. Spike is waiting though, as he wraps his arms around the waist of Sly. Spike lifts Sly into the air, flipping him inside out with a tilt-a-whirl. The Cruiserweight Champion is ready for it though, as he locks his arm around Spike’s in mid-air. As soon as Sly lands on his feet, he drops to the mat, flipping Spike over onto his back with an arm drag takedown!

 

“Arm drag takedown out of the tilt-a-whirl!”

 

Sly immediately jumps to his feet, while Spike gets up to one knee. Taking the opportunity granted to him, Sly holds his arms in the air, posing for the Philly fans and for his opponent.

 

 

“You Suck! You Suck!”

 

“The fans in the arena, and his opponent aren’t too fond of Austin Sly or his actions.”

 

Spike responds to his opponent’s gesture by jumping to his feet and charging. Sly is ready though, as he locks his arm under the arm of the incoming Spike. Sly lifts Spike into the air for a hip toss…

 

 

 

 

 

 

…But Spike puts all his weight down, stopping Sly short. Sly tries to retaliate, but Spike gets to him first as he locks in a front face lock. Spike swings both himself and Sly out of the front face lock, and drives Sly into the mat with a neckbreaker!

 

“Swinging Neckbreaker counters the Hip Toss!” commentates Comet.

 

“Very smart move by Spike. All that training under Toxxic has paid off.”

 

“Will you stop mentioning Toxxic? Without hearing his name twelve times a day, I can pretend that Spike did not sell his virtues to The Straight Edge Sensation!”

 

“What’s wrong with joining Toxxic? It’s helping Spike win!”

 

“HE’S HAD ONE MATCH!”

 

In the ring, Spike hops up to his feet. His opponent, however, rolls into the corner. He gets to a sitting position, leaning on the lower turnbuckle as NTD runs around to his side. Sly looks up at his opponent, who now stands in the middle of the ring. Spike lifts his arms in the air, posing for the champion, and the million of SWF fans around the world.

 

“YOU FUCKING SUCK! YOU FUCKING SUCK!”

 

“The fans in Philly must really like Spike!”

 

“Robert, do you hear what they are chanting?” asks Comet.

 

“Yeah. And they chant the same thing towards Dace Night! That means they like him!”

 

With encouraging words from NTD, Sly gets back up to his feet. Sly quickly charges at the unready Spike. He gets the go behind, and quickly pulls the legs out from underneath Spike with a rear double leg takedown. Spike tries to struggle out of the spot, but Sly grabs a hold of his ankle. Sly pulls Spike off the ground by his ankle, and drives him knee first back into the mat!

 

“Knee crusher to that right knee! The same knee that kept Spike out of action for three months!”

 

“Someone has been doing their homework!” sings Riley in a mocking voice.

 

Spike clutches his knee brace, and quickly tries to roll away. But Austin is right on top of him, as he grabs Spike by the ankle and pulls him back. Sly rolls Spike onto his stomach, as he lifts Spike into the air again by the ankle, and again slamming his knee into the mat!

 

“A second knee crusher! Look at the pain in Spike’s eyes!”

 

Spike grabs his knee, and quickly rolls towards the ropes. As he gets there, Jet stands on the outside of the ring trying to talk to him. Sly walks around the ring, his arms in the air and his chest out as the Philly fans release a chorus of chants towards him.

 

“YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!”

 

As the Cruiserweight Champion taunts the crowd, NTD stands on the outside of the ring, applauding his protégé. Sly turns his attention back towards his downed opponent. He calmly walks over towards Spike, grabs him by the ankle, and pulls him back into the center of the ring.

 

“Looks like he is about to finish Spike off!”

 

Sly holds Spike’s leg in the air, giving it a few kicks to the back of the knee. Spike screams in pain, but has nowhere to go. Sly locks his arm over Spike’s foot. He then locks his leg over Spike’s to apply a standing leg scissors. Sly tucks both his hands underneath Spike’s knee, and drops back! The pain shoots through Spike’s leg, as he arches his back to relieve some of the pressure that is being put on his knee.

 

“Achilles Tendon Hold applied by the Champion! A move perfected by The Great Muta!”

 

“A move perfected by our great Cruiserweight Champion, Austin Sly!” says Riley.

 

“A move that may end this match quickly. Spike is stuck and the pain is only going to get worse!”

 

Spike’s voice rings through the Mellon Arena, as sounds of sheer torment ring from his vocal cords. Referee Soapdish jumps to Spike’s side, and asks if he gives up. Spike screams out “No”, as Sly keeps wrenching Spike’s knee. Spike is lying on the back of his neck as he arches his back to relieve some of the pressure, though it’s not really working.

 

“How much more pain can Spike take?” questions Comet.

 

“Not much, from the looks of it.”

 

Jet slams her fist on the ring apron, trying to get Spike to do anything. Spike grabs his knee, as his tears his voice with screams of pain. Sly on the other hand, begins to show signs of annoyance, as he continues tearing at the knee. Trying to think of a way to counter out of this, Spike tries the first thing that comes to mind…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…And kicks Sly in the face with his free leg.

 

“Ouch!” yelps Riley.

 

 

“OHHHHH”

 

 

Sly nearly breaks the hold, with another kick to the face confirming that. Sly unhooks his leg scissors, as he quickly rolls out of harms way holding his face. Spike rolls over onto his stomach, and clutches his knee.

 

“Spike doing the only thing he can do and bring his martial arts background in to counter the Achilles Tendon Hold.” Says Comet.

 

“HE KICKED HIM IN THE FACE!”

 

“Yes.”

 

“HE KICKED HIM IN THE FACE!”

 

“Great color commentating job, there, Robert.”

 

Sly is able to get back to his feet, still holding his now sore face. He heads back over towards Spike, who is still on his stomach, holding his knee. Sly grabs Spike by his right ankle, and pulls him up to his feet (or really, his foot). Spike turns towards Sly, who now continues the trash talking as Spike wobbles on one foot. Austin shakes Spike’s foot, mocking him as he stumbles around…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Until Spike kicks him in the back of the head with an Enzuguri! Spike lies on the mat, holding his knee, while trying to catch his breath. Behind him, the still standing Sly wobbles around before flopping face first to the mat. As Sly hits the mat, NTD covers his face on the outside of the ring.

 

“Both men are down!”

 

“Nice commentating, Comet. Both men are down! The sky is blue! Grass is green!” mocks Riley.

 

 

“We Want Dace! We Want Dace!”

 

Sly tries to get to his feet, as he holds the back of his head. Spike begins to stumble to his feet, wobbling around on his bad knee. Spike gets to his feet first, but Sly is right behind him. Not wanting to drop the offense, Austin charges towards Spike. Sly attempts a clothesline, but Spike ducks under it, and wraps his arm across the chest and above the opposite shoulder of Sly. Spike sweeps Austin’s legs out from under him, and drives him back first into the mat!

 

“STO out of nowhere by the challenger!” cries Riley.

 

“Sweeping the legs out from underneath Sly and driving his head into the mat. Good counter by The Hollywood Superstar!”

 

As soon as Spike hits the mat, he lets out a groan of pain. The impact of the fall also affecting his knee. He holds onto his knee brace, as he struggles to his feet. Sly rolls over onto his stomach, holding the back of his head. Sly climbs up to his feet knelt over and still holding his head. Spike sees the opening, and takes it as he pulls Sly into a front face lock. Spike drops back, pulling Sly down into the mat with A DDT! Sly lands on the top of his head. He rolls over onto his back, allowing Spike to cover him!

 

“Desperation DDT by the challenger!”

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW…NO!

 

 

 

“Barely a two count there, Comet.”

 

“The first cover of the match goes to the challenger. Austin easily kicking out right after the two count.” Notes Comet.

 

Spike rolls off of Sly into a sitting position. He sighs, but gets back on the attack. He climbs to his feet, pulling Sly into a sitting position in the process. Spike locks his legs around Austin’s neck. He drops down to the mat, locking Sly in a scissors lock! Sly lets out a yelp in pain, as Spike squeezes all the air out of his body.

 

“He’s trying to pop Austin’s head like a pimple!” yells Riley.

 

“Both of Spike’s finishing maneuver’s affect the neck and throat. Spike is simply sticking to a game plan with this scissors lock.”

 

NTD screams at Sly to get out of the hold. Austin’s face quickly turns red, as Spike stands on his hands to add more pressure. Spike applies more pressure, as Sly struggles to break out of the hold.

 

“Austin has already been dropped on his head once this match. Not to mention getting kicked in the head. He can’t last very long with no oxygen.” Notes Comet.

 

“Well, duh. Nobody can last very long without any oxygen.” Adds Riley.

 

Sly tries to turn on his side, but Spike holds onto the hold for dear life. Thinking quickly, Sly unleashes a back elbow into the knee of Spike! Spike immediately loosens the hold, allowing Sly to roll over onto his stomach and take Spike with him. With Spike now on his stomach, Sly is able to easily pull out of the scissors lock. He takes in a few quick deep breaths, as he crosses Spike’s ankle into the crook of his opposite knee. Sly turns his back towards Spike, but continues to hold Spike’s legs in place. He positions his leg around Spike’s, locking him in a standing Indian Death Lock! Sly stands for a second, as he poses towards the crowd.

 

 

“WE HATE YOU! WE HATE YOU!

 

 

After a few moments of posing, Sly drops backwards down to mat. This immediately sends pain straight through Spike’s right leg, mostly in the knee. Spike screams out in pain, as Sly pulls himself back to his feet.

 

“Sly using an inverted Indian Death Lock to keep the pressure on Spike’s knee.”

 

“I’m starting to think that Spike will have a hard time walking out of here.” Says Riley.

 

“You think?”

 

 

 

After getting back to his feet, Sly once again drops back down to the mat. Spike reacts like a bullet just went through his knee as he screams out in torture.

 

 

“WE DON’T CARE! WE DON’T CARE! YOU BOTH SUCK!”

 

“The crowd is very vocal tonight…” examines Riley.

 

Sly rises to a near standing position, as he grabs his opponent’s adjacent wrists. Sly rolls to the side, as he leans on the back of his head. Doing this, he lifts Spike’s still entangled legs in the air and putting him on the back of his head as well. Sly holds onto Spike’s wrist, holding him down in a weird roll up variant. As soon as Soapdish figures out it’s a pin, he drops down to the mat to make the count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What kind of cover is that?”

 

“I think its Japanese, Comet.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¼!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ½!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¾…NO! Spike breaks his arms free, breaking the hold in the process. Sly untangles his legs from Spike’s, and begins to make his way to his feet. In the process, he holds the back of his neck that he inadvertently added more pressure too with his roll up.

 

 

“That cover nearly getting the win for The Cruiserweight Champion!” notes Comet.

 

“Look at NTD. He is so proud of Sly right now.”

 

As Sly makes it to his feet, he begins to applaud his efforts. The fans react quickly, by shitting all over it.

 

 

“You Fucking Suck! You Fucking Suck!”

 

 

Sly responds by patting himself on the back for a good job! Sly glances over at NTD, who is giving him two thumbs up.

 

 

“Well…this is arrogant.”

 

“Not arrogant. Just giving Sly his props.”

 

“His props?” questions Comet.

 

“Word, Dog.”

 

Behind Sly, Spike begins to make his way to the feet. He still favors his knee, but is able to pull himself up.

 

“Spike has already had surgery on that knee once. After the pounding he took tonight, will he have to get another?”

 

“That would be pretty bad for Toxxic.”

 

“Who cares about that evil doer right now?”

 

Sly watches as Spike makes it to his feet. He shakes his head in annoyance, as he quickly charges into the ropes facing Spike. Sly bounces into the ropes, and comes running back at Spike, ready to attack…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…But is cut off short by a lariat from the challenger! The impact of the lariat sends Austin inside out as he comes crashing down to the mat onto his face! Spike follows right behind him as he drops to one knee.

 

 

“YOU BOTH SUCK! YOU BOTH SUCK!”

 

 

“LARIAT FROM OUT OF NOWHERE!” screams Comet. “Spike is still in the game!”

 

“It’s not a game, Comet. It’s a wrestling match. We aren’t out here playing Monopoly.”

 

Spike moves over onto Sly, sitting on the champion’s back. He grabs a handful of Austin’s hair, and pulls his head up…

 

 

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

…Spike drives the point of his elbow into the back of Austin’s neck…

 

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

…Spike unleashes a flurry of elbows into the champion’s neck!

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

*CRACK*

 

 

 

 

“Looks like his training with Toxxic has paid off!” remarks Bobby.

 

“How?” asks Comet.

 

“Look at him! Before he joined Toxxic, he was a laid back stoner. Now, he is an angry, aggressive, focused wrestler. He is out to hurt Austin Sly and to take his title!”

 

“I think I have to agree with you there, Robert.”

 

Spike finally finishes Sly off with a final elbow. He rolls off of Sly, holding the knee that was previously attacked. Sly grabs the back of his neck, as he lifts his face off the mat. Both men hold their respected injuries as they try and make it to their feet. Spike is the first one to his feet, and hops over to the corner.

 

“Is it smart for Spike to try and go to the top rope at this point in the match?” asks Riley.

 

“No.”

 

“Okay!”

 

Spike steps in between the ropes out onto the apron. He slowly, but surely makes his way up to towards the top rope. In the ring, Sly gets to a full stance, holding his neck. Sly sees Spike climb to the top rope. He charges as quickly as he can into the corner, and hits Spike with a clubbing blow to the back. Spike stops dead in his tracks into a sitting position on the top rope. Sly pulls Spike’s legs over the top rope, placing them on the middle rope inside the ring.

 

“What does Austin have planned here?” questions Comet.

 

Sly climbs up onto the middle rope, coming face to face with his opponent. Sly lifts Spike’s right leg up into the air, tucking in under his arm. Sly jumps backwards down to the mat, twisting Spike in mid-air with a Top Rope Dragon Screw Leg Whip! Sly crashes into the mat underneath the turnbuckle, while Spike flies into the middle of the ring! Spike crashes into the ring, as he screams in pain. His whole body spasm’s as he clutches his knee.

 

“TOP ROPE DRAGON SCREW LEG WHIP! SPIKE HAS TO BE FINISHED AFTER THAT!” cries Riley.

 

“The pain that Spike must be experience is excruciating.”

 

“Well, NO DUH!”

 

Spike finally passes out in the middle of the ring. He lies flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling. A perfect time for a cover, Sly lies in the corner. He holds his neck as well, injuring it more due to the drop from the top rope.

 

“Both men are down! If Sly can cover Spike, this match will be all over!”

 

NTD screams at Sly to cover Spike. Sly slowly begins to crawl his way over towards his opponent…

 

 

 

 

…Very slowly taking his time…

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Slowly…

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Almost there…

 

 

 

 

 

“JUST FUCKING COVER HIM!” CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP “JUST FUCKING COVER HIM!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…AND HE DRAPES AN ARM OVER SPIKE’S CHEST!

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¼!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ½!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¾!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“IT’S ALL OVER, BABY!” cries Riley.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! SPIKE GETS A SHOULDER UP!

 

 

 

 

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” both commentator’s yell out.

 

 

 

The fans in the arena don’t either, as for the first time in the match, they begin to cheer?!?!

 

 

 

“Did the referee make a mistake or something?” asks Bobby.

 

 

 

NTD stands on the outside of the ring, nearly losing control. He screams at anybody and everybody. Jet, on the other hand, is slapping her hands against the mat, trying to get Spike up. Sly rises to his knees, visually fatigued. He climbs up to his feet, always going back to the neck of his. Sly grabs Spike by the hair, and pulls him up to his feet…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…But Spike rolls Sly into a small package!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¼!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ½!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¾!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Sly kicks out of it!

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

“That was a close one.” Exhales Riley.

 

 

Both men lay on the mat, breathing heavily. They roll onto their stomach, and struggle to get up.

 

“It’s a matter of who makes it to their feet first now!”

 

Sly pulls himself back up to his feet, his hand clutching at the shooting pain in his neck. He turns around, ready to stop Spike from continuing in the match…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…But is met by the challenger’s right boot!

 

“Standing Thrust Kick by Spike Jenkins….” Cries Comet.

 

“Is DUCKED by the champion!” says Riley as he lends a hand to his broadcast partner.

 

As states by Bobby Riley, Austin ducks underneath the thrust kick, and charges into the ropes. As Spike misses the kick, he ends up stumbling around as his right leg slams back down to the mat. Spike grabs at his knee, but turns around towards the champion.

 

“Spike tried the thrust kick with his right leg. A poor decision that now is affecting him.”

 

“It was more of a sign of desperation, Comet.” Implies Riley. “He’s going to try and do anything to capture the Cruiserweight Championship.”

 

“He should think about the consequences, though.”

 

As the New Straight Edge Sensation turns around, he catches a glimpse of the champion jump onto the middle rope. Sly springboards off the middle rope, back into the ring; and catches the challenger with an elbow to the jaw!

 

“Springboard elbow by Austin Sly! Quick thinking by the defending champ.”

 

Coming off the elbow, both men collapse to the ground. Sly holds his sore neck; while Spike lies on the mat, stunned from the shot to the face.

 

“Both men are down, Comet! They are OUT!”

 

“I don’t think they are out, Robert. But both men are fatigued at this point. They’ve been fighting like rabid dogs, tonight! Austin Sly going for Spike Jenkins’ knee; the same knee that kept Spike out of action for three months!” notes Comet

 

“While Spike tries to cut Sly off at the knees…by going after his neck.”

 

“Nice choice of words there, Robert.”

 

Spike lies on the mat, his eyes glued over into the back of his head. Next to him, Austin Sly climbs up to his feet. The champion swaggers back and forth, still holding his neck in pain.

 

“That springboard elbow did its job of taking Citizen Jenkins down. But it seems the impact from the fall has gotten to the neck of Austin.”

 

As Sly stumbles around, SWF Legend NTD yells at him to finish Spike off. Sly takes the advice, and heads towards the ropes. Sly leaps up onto the middle rope, and springboards back with a moonsault into the ring onto Spike!

 

“SKY SURFER!” yells out Riley…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Is stopped short! Spike puts his knees up, and Sly crashes into them! Sly bounces off Spike and lands face first onto the mat. He clutches his ribs, as his whole face turns red. Spike screams out in pain, as he clutches his knee.

 

 

“The Sky Surfer has been stopped! Spike got his knees up!”

 

“It’s a double edged sword, Comet. Sure, Spike stopped the Sky Surfer. But he also probably destroyed his knee in the process. Spike may be in so much pain right now, Sly can cover him and get the pin!”

 

“I don’t think Citizen Austin is capable of getting the pin fall now, Robert. I think he got the wind knocked out of him! His whole face is red and he seems to be having trouble breathing.”

 

NTD slaps the ring apron on the outside of the ring, screaming for Sly to get to his feet. Sly lies on the mat face first, unable to catch his breath. Spike rolls around on the mat, holding his right knee in agony. He rolls over onto his stomach, and begins to make his way up to his feet.

 

“This is Spike’s chance to win the Cruiserweight Championship! If he can take advantage of the downed Austin Sly, Spike may walk out of here with some gold!”

 

Spike gets to a full stance, but nearly falls back down as he stumbles towards Sly. Spike reaches down, grabbing a handful of Austin’s hair and dragging him to his feet. Sly now fully up to his feet, slumps over as Spike goes behind him. Spike locks his arms around Austin’s waist. Spike digs down deep, and with all the power inside of him, hoists the champion up into the air. With Sly in the air, Spike snaps backwards. Driving the back of Austin’s head to crash into the mat, Spike holds him in half with a German Suplex!

 

“Stiff German suplex by the challenger! After all the damage to the neck, can Austin Sly kick out of it?” questions Comet.

 

 

Spike keeps his arms locked around the waist of Sly, holding him in a bridge for the pin!

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And Spike’s knee gives out under the pressure of the bridge! Spike releases the waist lock, allowing Sly to roll over onto his side. Spike grabs his knee. He yells out “FUCK”, showing his disapproval of having to break the hold.

 

“Spike’s knee took way too much damage in this match. How will this affect him in the long run, now that Sly has tried to reinjure him?”

 

“Who cares about the long run? What about now? Spike still needs to cover Sly!” cries Riley.

 

Jet slams her fist on the apron, while NTD screams around the ringside area. Back in the ring, Spike turns his attention to Sly. He rolls the champion over onto his back. Austin appears to be knocked out cold from the previous German suplex. Spike places his body on top of Sly. He hooks one leg with his arm. He uses his left leg to hook Austin’s other leg. Referee Soapdish drops down for the cover!

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Spike is using his non-injured leg to hook Austin’s free leg. But the champion appears to be out cold! WE MIGHT HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!” says Comet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¼!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ½!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO ¾!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

“IT’S OVER! NEW CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION!” yells Riley.

 

 

 

The crowd fills the arena with jeers, as Jet jumps around on the outside. Spike slowly rolls off of the former champion. He lays face first on the mat, as Soapdish signals for the bell.

 

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

 

“I don’t believe it! Just a few weeks after joining Toxxic’s side, Spike Jenkins has become the SWF Cruiserweight Champion!”

 

“Toxxic promised Spike results. And here you go! New Cruiserweight Champion!”

 

 

Soapdish is handed the Cruiserweight title, but it is quickly pulled away by Jet. She slides into the ring, quickly jumping on top of the still downed Spike. Spike slowly comes too, as Jet helps him up to his knees. Jet hands Spike the belt that is pulled deep into his chest.

 

“An emotional victory for Spike. Claiming his first title in his short SWF career.”

 

“Comet, do you know what this means? This proves that Toxxic and his followers are for real. They are not to be messed with. Austin Sly learned that tonight.” Says Riley as he gives off a girly giggle.

 

“What about Tom Flesher’s beat down on Lockdown?

 

“Hmph.”

 

“This does give Toxxic and his followers an advantage, though. Not to mention on Storm, Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis get a tag team title shot. Can Spike Jenkins become a double champion?”

 

“Just think of what that would do, Comet. The Cruiserweight Championship around Spike’s waist, along with the Tag Team titles with him and Sean Davis. Possibly soon, the World Heavyweight Championship with their leader, Toxxic. They are slowly taking over the SWF, Comet!”

 

“I never thought of it like that, Robert. These men are on the verge of controlling everything. Who will be able to stop them? How much damage will they do?” asks Comet.

 

“And this is only the first match of the night! Sean Davis still has a match against Dace Night! Toxxic still has a match with Jamie Drazon. What else can these three men pull tonight?”

 

“Only time will tell, Robert. Only time will tell.”

 

As those last words are muttered, Spike Jenkins stands in the middle of the ring. Jet places the Cruiserweight Title around his waist, locking it into place. Spike holds his arms in the air, as Jet stands to the side of him, applauding. The Pittsburgh fans fill the arena with a chorus of boos. As the scene fades to black, Spike stands posing in the middle of the ring. Cruiserweight Title around his waist, looking almost…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…God like.

[the.weej 0]

“Today is a beautiful day to be stomping on things!

 

As a dinosaur, stomping on things is the best part of my day indeed!

 

What’s that, little house?

 

You wish you were back in your own time?

 

THAT IS TOO BAD FOR YOU!

 

Perhaps you too will get a stomping, little girl!”

 

“WAIT!

 

Is stomping really the answer to your problem or problems?”

 

“Problem or problems?

 

My only problem or problems have to do with you interrupting my stomping!

 

Crazy Utahraptor!”

 

Andrea Montgomery glances at her cell phone, thinking if she should answer it now, or to wait for the dinosaur comic-inspired ringtone to finish playing. She opts for the latter, figuring if the call is important enough, the caller can wait a few more moments.

 

“With that Utahraptor out of the way I feel better!

 

A rare pleasure indeed, to have your problems put behind you and your future full of promise!

 

Imagine if that Utahraptor slipped in the shower?

 

He’d certainly wish he’d stomped the soap out of the way (much as I know stomp this little house) as he passed on!

 

Perhaps in his last moments, the iron of the situation - from my perspective - would become evident.

 

Yes, I will freely enjoy stomping more now that he is gone!”

 

“Stop!”

 

“You?”

 

“You have retreated too far into the realm of fantasy and have forgotten that I did not in fact expire in the shower!”

 

“I must guard against such self absorption in the future!

 

I GUESS THERE IS A LESSON HERE FOR US ALL!”

 

As the catchy song ends, Andrea answers her phone.

 

“Hello? Oh, Mister Zenon...come to the arena? But I’m not on the card...am I going to be introduced there or something? Oh...a meeting. Yes, sir, I’ll leave now.”

 

Andrea turns the phone off, grabs her motel room key and heads out the door.

[the.weej 0]

“Ah, the Mellon Arena, in happy happy Pittsburgh” Toxxic says, pushing the door of the dressing room open before draining the can of Coke he’s carrying, crunching it up with a *crink* of compressed metal and throwing it with unerring accuracy into the bin. “You know what happened the last time I was here?”

 

“No,” Spike Jenkins answers, entering the room behind his mentor. Toxxic’s face quirks into a mirthless half-grin.

 

“I lost my second-ever match in the SWF. To Alan Clark.”

 

“Duuuuuuude,” Spike says in deepest sympathy, taking a seat. “Still, no risk of that tonight, man.”

 

“Well, no. I’m not facing Clark.” Toxxic grins again to show Spike that he’s not being deliberately obtuse, and rests his black holdall down on the bench seat. “Just kidding; but no, Drazon shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I mean sure, he’s a raving lunatic with no morals and an apparent immunity to pain...” the straight-edger shrugs. “But hey, aren’t they all?” He turns to Spike. “So, how are you feeling about your title match?”

 

“Hey man, it’s good,” Spike assures him. “I got a clear head, I’m breathing easy... I haven’t even got the shakes!”

 

“Are you scared? Feeling nervous?” the Straight-Edge Sensation asks.

 

“Dude! No way!” Spike protests. “Why?”

 

“It can be useful, that’s all,” Toxxic tells him. “Remember; fear leads to aggression. Aggression leads to anger. Anger leads to hate, and hate leads to-”

 

“-the Dark Side?” Spike asks hopefully.

 

“No-o... hate leads to kicking your opponent’s arse so hard he can’t sit down for a week,” Toxxic grins. “Mind you, I generally miss out the earlier steps and go straight to anger. Works a treat.”

 

“Man, I prefer fucking a chick’s ass so hard she can’t sit down for a week,” Spike laughs.

 

There is a moment’s silence.

 

“Each method has it’s upsides,” Toxxic says finally. “My way costs less though.”

 

“Dude! That’s a fucking lie man, Crow’s been spreading that shit since we were in the JL! I’ve never used a hooker, man, there’s always been ring-rats and-”

 

“Spike?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Spike grins slightly ruefully, “no ass for me any more.”

 

“Not unless you pick one ass and stick with it,” Toxxic informs him, semi-seriously. “Anyway, I need to know you’re ready for this. It’s a big step.” Spike raises his eyebrows.

 

“C’mon man, you’re acting like I’ve never had a big match before! I mean, I’ve faced Dace Night in Damnation In A Box, that’s career-altering stuff right there.”

 

“Yup, I know. And you lost.” Toxxic sits down next to his holdall, stares across at his new ‘follower’ and wonders how on earth he got to be giving advice on wrestling to someone a year older and with far more SJL-and-WF experience that him.

 

“Look, you need to get into the mindset,” he explains. “That’s what’s been keeping you from succeeding so far. You vs Dace Night, Damnation In A Box - you lost. Me vs Aecas, 200 Light Tubes... I won. You vs Landon Maddix, USJL Title - you lost. Me vs Insane Luchador, ICTV Title... I won. You vs Johnny Dangerous, Cage Match for the Cruiser Title - you lost. Me vs Kibagami, Last Man frickin’ Standing match... I won. What does this say to you?”

 

“Uh...” Spike looks puzzled for a moment, then brightens. “Your opponents were easier?”

 

“Ye-No!” Toxxic corrects himself, glaring at the Californian native. “I knew what I needed to do to win. And I did it. You’ve got to get the killer instinct, Spike. No-one liked me lowblowing Aecas and jawbreakering half a light tube into his mouth, but it helped get the job done. Go for the throat with Sly! Keep fucking hitting him in the head, no matter what he does to you! He’s a decent mat wrestler, but if you can prevent him from getting to your legs you can knock him out.”

 

“Right...” Spike says, repeating the advice to himself under his breath. Abruptly the door to the locker room opens and the corridor lights are occluded by the powerful frame of Sean Davis, accompanied as ever by Marcus Washington.

 

“Guys,” the big man says, closing the door behind him. “Anything I should know about Dace Night before the match?”

 

“No notable weaknesses, strong as hell and tougher than he should be for a man his size,” Toxxic replies instantly, checking the point off on his fingers. “I got away with outmanoeuvring him - you won’t be that lucky. Beware of the elbows, DON’T let him suplex you and for God’s sake don’t rely on Marcus to try and distract him - once Dace has got something locked on he’ll hold it even if you murdered his family in full view of the ring. Try and stay over him - the one real advantage you’ve got is size, so if you can keep him in trouble on the mat you’ll have a chance... but he’s a great mat wrestler too.”

 

“Right...” Sean says, taking that in as he looks at the spiky-haired straight-edger.

 

“Now then,” Toxxic continues “-for a more detailed rundown of exactly what Dace is capable of, I present to you my lovely assistant Spike.” Sean and Marcus turn expectantly to the SWF’s newest straight-edger, who grins.

 

“OK dude; you ever heard of Damnation In A Box...?”

Edited July 13, 2004 by realitycheck

[the.weej 0]

The Mellon Arena explodes back into life with a fresh roar as Smarkdown returns from the break. The Pennsylvania crowd is in smark mode as usual, with a section for the SWF top heels like Tom Flesher covering a large lump of the crowd. The usual range of signs can be seen across the crowd as well, with such slogans as “THE BOYSCOUTS SUCKS!” … “TOM FUCKING ALLISON” and even a sign talking about how some small time fed had a sucky event on last night.

 

Comet: Welcome back to Smarkdown citizens, you’re here with me…

 

Riley: Cyclone Comet, yes we know. But more importantly, your host with the most, a fine cherry popper with more backstage pull than a handjob …. BOBBY RRRIIIIILLLLLLEEEEYYYYY!

 

Comet: Robert please never, ever do that again or we’ll lose viewers.

 

Riley: What? But you get away with it all the time Comet. Nothing wrong with it at all. When I try to have a little fun with my work you tell me I’m going it all wrong.

 

Comet: Anyway Robert. We’re already seen a frantic opening under for the Cruiserweight Title, we’ve got two new talents debuting tonight on Smarkdown later on. And we’ve got a rather odd Handicap Match for the main event.

 

Riley: Nothing odd about it Comet. Janus is going to go out and squash those boy scouts single handed, people have to fear the World Champ. Everyone apart from Tom Flesher that is.

 

Comet: Robert, I think you need to start taking the pills again. But before all that, one of the SWF’s strong young talents, Sean Davis is up against the sheer force of Dace Night in a one on one contest.

 

Riley: And this is where Davis is going to show just how good he real is. We’ve seen it in his other matches, but now he’s going to take on this cheating brawler that is Dace and come out with the win anyway.

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match will be one on one contest and will be for one fall…

 

Yyyyyaaaaahhhhhhhh!

 

Funyon: Introducing firstly, from Birmingham England, weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds, he is … DACE

 

FUCKING!

 

Funyon: NIGHT!

 

Yyyyyyaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Hero screams into life over the PA as the entrance ramp is lit up by the rounds of white pyro. Standing at the top of the ramp, looking down at the cheering crowds is Dace Night. Pacing down the ramp, the White Night tags hands with fans in the front row as he passes by before rolling under the ropes and into the ring. Climbing the nearest turnbuckle, Dace throws the horns up the fans, with a slight grin on his face before dropping back to the mat.

 

Funyon: And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by Marcus Washington, weighing in at two hundred and seventy pounds … THE PERFECT STORM … SEAN DAVIS!

 

Bbbbbbbboooooooooooo!

 

The house lights drop down low as F.E kicks up and the rounds of flames flare up from the ramp. Blue spot lights focus on the top of the ramp as a lightning blot effect sends the lights back up. Sean Davis comes marching out, closely followed by Marcus in his usual sharp suit. Ignoring the fans, Davis climbs the ring apron and steps through the ropes. Looking the White Night up and down, the ex-football player smirks and moves across the ring slowly.

 

Marcus: Check him over ref. I don’t want him being a cheat against my boy. Check him ref!

 

DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS!

 

Marcus jumps up and down on the outside of the ring, pointing at Dace and demanding a check. Slowly Hardcastle steps forwards and starts to pat Dace down. Horrorcore just stands there stone faced, clearly with nothing to find from the referee or his opponent. Backing away and holding up his empty hands as proof, Hardcastle looks at both men before ringing the bell to start the match.

 

DING, DING, DING!

 

Rrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!

 

The Prefect Storm and Dace edge towards each other in the middle of the ring. Davis raises his hands up and offers out a knuckle lock that Dace almost jumps into, locking his hands before Davis can even blink. Dace shoots off a half grin as he pushes forwards and almost takes the Perfect Storm off balance, driving him backwards. Marcus looks on in shock from the outside and starts franticly yelling at Davis to do something about it. Flexing his twenty pound weight advent, Davis digs his heels into the mat and almost launches himself forwards. Regaining ground again Dace as the two men return to the middle of the ring, still in the knuckle lock.

 

Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Comet: Sean Davis is facing his first real test against a big power man in the SWF. I don’t think he’s used to taking on people that can match him in strength and toughness.

 

Riley: So, it’s not like Dace has some master way to trump that does he?

 

Comet: Apart from that fact he’s faced bigger and stronger men like Va’aiga and Janus before in matches or he has a huge experience advantage. No Robert, not a thing.

 

Staring eye to eye with Sean Davis, Horrorcore lets out a low growl as he throws his right arm around, breaking the grip and cracking his elbow off Davis’ jaw. The force sends Davis stumbling backwards a few feet, before Dace pounces on him again and sends two more Elbow Smashes crashing home into Sean’s face. Stepping in close, Night grabs Davis by the head and yanks him down into a quick Side Headlock. Leaning all his weight on the hold to keep his control, Dace looks at as Marcus jumps around on the outside, yelling at Davis to fight back and escape the hold. Bringing his own power into play, Sean drives Night forwards, forcing him across the ring and into the ropes. Sean tries to pop free of the Side Headlock and send Night flying across the ring but Dace holds on and drops to the mat, taking Davis down with him.

 

Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Riley: What ever you saying Comet, see Davis has this all under…

 

Comet: Complete control by the White Night. Davis really wants to avoid a fight like this with Dace. He needs room to bring his power into play but Dace can still use his on the mat.

 

Down on the mat, the Perfect Storm kicks and wriggles his legs, trying to power his way back up to his feet but Dace keeps him grounded. Looking to show off his advantage on the mat, Night twists his body around, over Davis’ back and dropping into a Grounded Front Facelock. Not no soon than he hits the mat, Dace spins around again and ends up sitting on Davis’ back. Caught off guard by this mat work, Sean can’t defend himself as night simply slaps him around the ears in the old school insult style. Jumping away, Dace throws his arms up to a quick roar as the Perfect Storm lies on the mat holding his head.

 

Rrrrrrraaaaaahhhhh!

 

Moving back in, Horrorcore slams his boot into the back of Davis’ head as he tries to struggle up from the mat. Marcus is yelling for the Perfect Storm to escape and get on the offensive with his size. Again Sean tries to rise up Dace just kicks him in the side of the head. Grabbing a flailing arm, Horrorcore hauls Davis up to his feet and shoots him off across the ring. Spreading his arms, Dace braces himself as Sean comes flying back. Hauling the ex-football player all the way up into the air, the White Night holds him up in the air for several seconds before slamming Davis down to the mat with a thud and a cry of pain from the Perfect Storm as Marcus looks on, shocked again.

 

DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE!

 

Comet: The White Night showing that Sean Davis isn’t the only man in the ring with a lot of power. Marcus Washington better have a good plan for Davis or this match could be over very quickly.

 

Riley: I’m sure Davis has his own plan that Marcus checked over. And just you remember, if Dace can hit hard, then Sean can hit him just as hard back. Remember that Comet.

 

Dropping a quick knee into Davis’ head for good measure, Dace grabs a leg and makes the first quick cover of the match as Hardcastle leaps in to count the fall…

 

……ONE!

KICKOUT!

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbooooooooooo!

 

Shooting back up to his feet, Dace reaches down and hauls Davis back up, wrapping his arms around his weight for a Gutwrench Suplex. Bracing his legs against the mat as Dace tries to lift him up, Davis springs boards like an uncoiling spring. The sheer force drives Dace backwards and slams him into the turnbuckles with a huge smack. His arms falling limply Night tries to suck the air back into his lungs as the Perfect Storm rears up. Holding one hand against Horrorcore’s head, Davis brings his head crashing in with a huge Headbutt. Marcus yells on from the outside, encourage Sean to pound away on the helpless Dace Night. The ex-football player’s head comes crashing it again and again with brain rattling force, each blow causing Night’s head to snap backwards.

 

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Bbbbbbbboooooooooooo!

 

Comet: The Perfect Storm countering that Gutwrench Suplex with a Tackle into the corner and now he’s in control of this match.

 

Riley: See, what did I tell you Comet? Sean’s got some real skill and that football background just helped him out there. Now we’ll see turn about is far play.

 

At Hardcastle’s insistence, Davis has to step back out from the corner before the five count on the ropes is reached. Scooping up the dazed Dace Night from the corner, Davis easily carries him over his shoulder, turning around and slamming Dace down onto the mat with a big Scoop Slam. Dropping sideways, Davis drives the point of his elbow into Night’s chest with an Elbow Drop and leaning back to hook a leg for a cover. Hardcastle leaps in and starts to count the fall.

 

……ONE!

 

 

 

…KICKOUT!

 

Yyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

 

DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS!

 

Sitting up, the Perfect Storm looks unphased by the kick out and even Marcus is over his shock. The lawyer just yells for Davis to keep up the attack and to beat the weird-o goth down. Easily lifting the White Night up from the mat, Davis draws his fist back and sends it slamming against Night’s skull repeatedly. Closing one hand around Dace’s throat, Sean reaches down and grabs Dace’s left to haul him up into the air. In a mirror image of just minutes ago, Sean Davis now holds Horrorcore over his head in a Military Press. Again feeling the kick like in other matches, Davis uses the rush of control to fuel himself on as he sends Dace crashes back down the mat with a thud. Following him down with another Elbow Drop, forcing the air out of Dace’s lungs again, Davis holds on for another cover.

 

……ONE!

 

 

 

……TW-KICKOUT!

 

Oooooooooooohhhhhhhh!

 

LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO!

 

Comet: Another huge slam from Davis, mirroring what Dace did to him earlier in the match. Marcus certainly seems to be giving him all the guidance to hang with Dace in this match.

 

Riley: Hang with Dace? Sean Davis is completely kicking his ass Comet. Maybe they are equal on power, but Davis has the real skills and he’s showing that right now. He’s dominating this match.

 

Again scooping Horrorcore back up to his feet, the Perfect Storm measure for him a moment, like a artist with a painting before drill home a stiff punch. As his head snaps back once again, Horrorcore struggles to gather his senses to mount some sort of comeback against the first person to really smack him around since Janus. Yet again a punch rattles his brains as Davis takes his name, not wanting to make mistakes as he hammers away on the Hardcore Goth. Slumping forwards to try and give himself much needed seconds, Dace sucks in a huge lungful of air even as Sean pulls him back up and nails him again.

 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!……

 

 

 

……CRACK!

 

Rrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

 

Fighting back, Dace fires off a wave of frantic Elbow Smashes, not really bothering where they land as long as they connect with Davis’ body. As each one hammers home, the Perfect Storm is driven backwards by the force, giving Dace valuable breathing room. Knowing he’ll need the big guns to take out the Perfect Storm, Dace drives home one last elbow before leaping backwards. Twisting on his heel, Dace rushes forwards like an lethal spinning top, his elbow snaking out to crash into Davis’ jaw with devastating force.

 

SMACK! CRACK!

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

FUCK YOU DAVIS! FUCK YOU DAVIS! FUCK YOU DAVIS! FUCK YOU DAVIS!

 

Riley: Sean Davis just countered the Rolling Elbow with the Thunderclap and Dace Night is out! Now there’s an example of his power Comet. Real power!

 

Comet: That Hook followed by a Back Fist just wiped Dace out. Things aren’t looking good for the White Night against the perfect storm.

 

Clutching at the side of his face, Horrorcore can feel blood starting to flow from the side of his mouth after the impact of the Backfist to the face. He can also feel Davis’ weight pressing on top of him once again as the ex-football player drops down from a cover to the cheers of Marcus Washington at ringside. Hooking both legs, Davis shifts all his weight to across Night’s shoulders for the cover as Hardcastle slides in again to count the fall.

 

……ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

……TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…KICKOUT!

 

Yyyyyyyyaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO! LET’S GO DACE! LET’S GO!

 

Comet: The White Night isn’t going down just yet Robert. Davis still has a lot of work to do if he wants to gain a win over possibly one of the SWF’s leading fighters.

 

Shaking his head frustration, Sean nods to Marcus’ yells from the outside as he stands up. Looking down at Night on the mat as he struggles for force himself up and fight back. The blood from the Dace’s mouth now stains his jaw and the upper half of his t shirt and shows little sign of stopping soon. Dragging Horrorcore back up, Sean slams yet another Headbutt home before ducking his body and scooping Dace across his shoulders into a Fireman’s Carry. Making a half turn in the middle of the ring, Davis drops to the mat and spikes Dace with a DVD. Rolling over, Davis shifts straight into another quick over, leaving Dace staring up at the lights through half open eyes.

 

……ONE!

 

 

 

 

……TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

……KICKOUT!

 

Yyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Comet: And again Sean Davis just drops Dace, this time with a DVD. Many more bombs like this and the match could be over very quickly.

 

Riley: Could be over Comet? Just wait till the Prefect Storm breaks out the Maelstrom this one will be over.

 

Slamming his fist into the mat, Davis shouts a few angry words at Hardcastle as Marcus calls him blind in rather rude ways. Rolling over on the mat, staining it with his still flowing blood, Dace clutches at the back of his neck, kicking his legs as he tries to shake his body out. Letting out a low growl, Night starts to force himself up onto one knee, still clutching at his knee. But as soon as he rises up, Dace finds Davis’ arm encircling his neck in a Front Facelock. Hauling the Hardcore Goth up into the air, Sean twists him around to deliver a Falcon Arrow. Leaning his weight backwards in a desperate escape attempt, Dace slips backwards and drops behind Sean’s back. Slamming home a quick Enzui-Elbow Smash, Horrorcore gives the Perfect Storm a shove in the back to send him flying across the ring into the ropes.

 

Yyyyyyaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!

DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE!

 

Hitting the ropes, Sean comes flying back as Dace charges at him. Swinging his arm out in an arc, Dace looks to drill Davis with a huge Lariat, but the ex-football player ducks under it at the last second. Dace carries on going on hits the ropes as well, looking to bounce back with a rebound attack but suddenly comes up short. Marcus has his hand under the ring ropes, grabbing onto one of Night’s legs, holding him fast. Slamming his feet foot into Marcus’ hand to break free, Dace hurls a wave of abuse at the lawyer. Hardcastle steps in to warn Marcus about interfering in the match. As Dace spins around to look for Sean, he’s greeted by a Clothesline to the face. Rearing back, Davis slams home a Headbutt for good measure before dragging Dace away from the ropes and into the middle of the ring.

 

Bbbbbbbbbboooooooooooooooooooo!

DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS! DAVIS SUCKS!

 

Comet: What dastardly means! Marcus Washington just grabbed onto Dace’s leg from the outside!

 

Riley: Please, it’s just using your situation to your advantage. Like when Dace hits people with all those weapons. Davis is about to finish this match off once and for all.

 

Closing one hand around Night’s throat, Davis drags the bleeding Goth into the air like a rag doll before planting him down into the mat with a Chokeslam. It’s not Janus, but the pain still shoots through Dace’s spine, causing him to let out a groan on impact. Again Sean Davis drops down and grabs a leg to make a cover. Having given Marcus the usual warning, Hardcastle is in perfect position to slide in to count the fall.

 

……ONE!

 

 

 

……TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

……TH-KICKOUT!

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaahhhhhhhh!

 

GET UP DACE! GET UP! GET UP DACE! GET UP! GET UP DACE! GET UP!

 

Comet: A Chokeslam and a kick out! It might be just the White Night’s sheer tough face and having faced monsters like Janus before that’s saving him against Sean Davis right now.

 

Riley: It’s nothing more than LUCK Comet. People like Janus have beaten Dace before, as have Tom Flesher and Toxxic. Davis is stronger than both of those mean. He should be trying to get a title shot instead of Dace.

 

Barking out shout about how he’s going to fuck Dace up, Davis roughly drags the White Night up to his feet and almost throws him into the corner. Measuring up, the Perfect Storm backs away to give himself a run up. Breaking into a charge, Davis launches himself towards the corner with a full speed charge…

 

CRACK! Yyyyyyyaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

 

……Running straight into Dace Night’s raised knee, sending him staggering backwards, holding his face. Dace tries to suck in more air with the free moment he has. Shaking his head clear, Davis darts forwards, again, swinging high this time with a clothesline…

 

CRACK! Yyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

…Running straight into an elbow. Again Davis stumbles forwards form the impact as Dace slowly moves out of the corner, fire still racing around his head. Edging forwards, Night swigs his leg out and catches Sean in the face with a slow High Kick that still connects with bone jarring force. Slipping behind the Perfect Storm as fast as he can manage, Dace clamps his arms shut in a Rear Waistlock. Snapping his body backwards, Horrorcore takes Davis over through the air and slams him down onto his neck with a Dangerous German Suplex!

 

WHAM!

Rrrrrrrraaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Comet: Dangerous German! Davis made a mistake trying that spot twice again Horrorcore and now he’s paying for it.

 

Riley: It’s not over yet Comet. Davis is a tough man and there’s no way Marcus is going to allow Dace to get away with things like this.

 

As the Perfect Storm topples sideways off his neck into small heap on the mat. Dace rolls over and drops his body across Davis’ chest as best he while still dazed and trying to recovering. Hardcastle drops in again and starts another count as Marcus shouts on in rage.

 

……ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

……TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

……T-KICKOUT!

 

Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

FUCK HIM UP DACE! FUCK FUCK! FUCK HIM UP DACE! FUCK FUCK! FUCK HIM UP DACE FUCK FUCK!

 

Slowly clambering back to his feet, Dace shakes his head for a moment as now it’s Sean Davis that struggles to get back to his feet for a fight back. Just like at the start of the match, Dace drives his boot into the back of Davis’ head and grinds his face into the mat. Wrenching Davis up, Horrorcore drives a knee into his face as Sean is forced to stands up. Now with an almost evil grin across his bloodied face, Dace grinds in another knee before roughly pulling Davis into a Standing Headscissors. Underhooking both arms, Dace nearly deadlifts all two hundred seventy pounds of ex-football into the air, flipping them over and slamming them down in a Tiger Driver.

 

WHAM!

 

Comet: Tiger Driver! Sean Davis has be rattled and this could be the final blow!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

Bbbbbbbbbbooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

 

The crowd counts out three in a huge roar, but it’s no good as Hardcastle isn’t there. Hardcastle is busy yelling at Marcus Washington. Having seen Davis in trouble, Marcus had taken matters into his own hands to stop Sean from being defeated.

 

Riley: Ha, look at that. Marcus Washington is defiantly a good man to have at ringside. He’s always looking out for Sean and it’s paying off.

 

Comet: What, you mean paying off with evil underhand tactics. Marcus is doing everything to stop Dace from winning this match up. But the White Night will still prevail!

 

Just picking up from the mat like a rag doll, Dace throws away any idea of Suplexes and opening up with huge flurry of Elbow Smashes and High Kicks. Each and every single blow slamming blow into Davis’ head, snapping it backwards each time. Marcus franticly tries to keep arguing with Hardcastle to buy Davis some time as another wave of Elbow Smashes cracks off his skull.

 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

 

Reaching forwards and hauling both of Sean’s arms into a Double Underhook, Dace strains backwards and lifts the Perfect Storm into the air. Reaching a forty five degree angle, Dace falls backwards and spikes Davis headfirst with an High Angle Double Arm DDT to a huge roar from the fans. Tiring of Marcus’ shouting, Hardcastle gives him a prompt shove that sends him falling onto his ass. Turning around, Hardcastle sees Dace floating over into a cover on Davis. Diving in, Hardcastle counts the fall again as the fans yell again.

 

CRUNCH!

 

Comet: Defenestration! This one is even! Tough or not, Sean Davis is finished!

 

Riley: No, not this way. Hardcastle just shoved Marcus after all! Someone stop this!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Yyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner….

 

DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT! DACE F’N’ NIGHT!

 

Hero rips up into life again over the Mellon Arena as the crowd explodes. Rolling over, Dace slowly sits up and holds the back of his neck again, wiping some of the blood from his mouth. Slowly pushing self up, Dace looks down at the body of Sean Davis as he moves across the ring. Marcus continues to hurl abuse at Hardcastle from the outside, waving his arms in a range of adult gestures.

 

Comet: Well, that’s one minor beast down, now the White Night can worry about the dragon on the World Champion once again. With both Toxxic and Tom Flesher with shots, it’s more complex than ever.

 

Riley: Please, all three of those guys can make far better champions that Dace ever could. Even if he does get to Janus, he’ll never beat him, still World Champ or not.

 

Comet: We’ll have to wait and see about that Robert. But you have to think, is anyone else going to stop Janus, stop this monster. And what if he does lose his World Title…what will he do then?

 

Riley: Oh, just because he’s all do-gooding, doesn’t make him a good man or champion. Dace can try all he wants, but he’s not doing to get the World Title. Now don’t go away people, we’ve got Tom Flesher coming up later on the show.

 

Climbing the turnbuckles, Dace throws up the horns the cheering fans, grinning through his bloodied mouth. Mouthing to the camera about killing the dragon. Horrorcore draws a finger slowly across his throat before hoping down. Rolling out of the ring, Dace tags hands with a few people at ringside before heading back up the ramp.

 

Fade Out.

[the.weej 0]

“…So I says to Zutroy I says… Oh!” Comet exclaims, suddenly remembering he’s on TV and SWF Smarkdown is once again on the air! The plethora of fans in the Melon arena remain on fever pitch as the show returns. “Welcome back, Citizens, for what hopes to be a memorable night in the SWF! Tonight, in our Main Event, World Champion Janus will tangle with the Dynamic Duo of the Wayward Sons!”

 

“I hope they get dropped on their heads.”

 

“Isn’t that a tad morbid, Riley?”

 

“Nope, it’s going to happen. I know for a fact.”

 

While Comet looks at Riley quizzically, the fans begin to settle down, the air becoming thick with tension as the silence builds, until-

 

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

 

-Seven ROCKING base-line strikes send shockwaves through the arena, followed by-

 

*BOOM!*

 

-A large spiral of pyrotechnics shoots up at either side of the stage, signaling the arrival of the one and only Ace Lezaire! The fans greet him as their usual disdain, but he simply waves and smiles, Steve filming it all for posterity.

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, the following match… is a HARDCORE MATCH!” The fans love the sound of that, and pray for some good old-fashioned violence. “Introducing first, from Vancouver, Canada. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds… he is the Sovereign of Swagger and Canada’s Greatest Hope… ACE LLLEEEZZZAAAIIIIRRRRREEEEEE!”

 

“This will be particularly interesting, Riley, considering Citizen Lezaire’s anti-hardcore stance and his desire to not scar his ‘beautiful physique.”

 

“No doubt you’d love to see that Comet, but I have faith in Lezaire that he’ll show us something special and prove he belongs in the SWF with the rest of the nut cases that prowl the backstage area…”

 

Lezaire hits the ring, sliding across the canvas and leaping to his feet, primed and ready to begin almost straight away. He doesn’t have to wait long for his opponent, as “Serial Thrilla” by the Prodigy kicks up, and Rob Gilbert comes through from behind the curtain, his mentor, Timothy Valentine, in tow, pushing a shopping trolley full of hardcore goodies towards the ring!

 

“It seems as though Gilbert is ready for a desperate struggle, and he’ll do anything and use anything to one up his opponent!”

 

“He better be, Comet.” Riley replies. “Lezaire is not a happy chappy at all after last week’s Main Event, and the brutal groinal beating he suffered at the hands of Jamie Drazon. And when you weigh in the size difference of both men, the situation looks even grimmer for the plucky young Gilbert…”

 

Funyon once again yells into the microphone, “And… his opponent! From Chappaqua, New York. He weighs in at approximately one hundred and sixty five pounds… please welcome, ‘Robzilla’… ROB GIIIILLLLBBBBEEEEERRRTTTTTT!”

 

Gilbert walks up the steps, ignoring the unclean masses as he steps into the ring, Timothy Valentine guarding his trolley of weapons closely and giving his student some last minute advice before Soapdish points to ringside and-

 

DING! DING! DING!

-the bell rings to officially begin this match!

 

“Here we go folks, two of the wimpiest competitors to ever grace this fed in the one ring together, and in a hardcore environment! This should be fun, Bobby, since these two are more soft-core than Krista Allen.”

 

“I cannot believe you just said that.”

 

The two men head to the centre of the ring, Gilbert obviously the more apprehensive of the two as he looks up at his opponent, a good five inches taller than he is. Flaunting his advantage, Lezaire stands toe-to-toe with the cowardly Gilbert, visibly shaking at the knees, asking with trembled lips into his microphone…

 

“Ace, buddy, we’re both reasonable men, I don’t want to have to use these weapons, surely we can work something out, y’know, no blood letting needed, just a nice, fair contest…”

 

Gilbert extends his hand slowly for a handshake while Ace nods with a smile, liking the cut of Rob’s jib and replying with a hearty handshake. This sign of peace between the two greatly troubles the crowd who are out for blood, letting their objections be known with a hail of jeers!

 

From ringside, Steve calls out to the dimwitted Canadian, “Hey, Ace! Photo Op!”

 

The prospect of more publicity grabs Ace’s attention instantly, turning his head towards Steve’s lens and smiling broadly, striking a politicians pose, waving to the camera with glee-

 

*CRUNCH!*

 

“Sweet Zombie Jesus!” cries the spandex superhero. “The vainglorious vagabond Lezaire is blindsided by a kick to the jimmies from Gilbert!”

 

“It’s perfect, Comet,” Riley replies, applauding Gilbert’s effort, “targeting the groin after Drazon’s flurry of kicks to the nether regions, and before you say anything, no, I am NOT an expert on targeting the groin.”

 

“Hey, don’t blame me Bobbo; it’s the guy writing this drivel.”

 

The sight of Lezaire clutching himself with a pained expression causes the fans to break out into cheers, while Steve zooms in on Ace’s face to capture this lovely moment of agony. Gilbert attempts to exploit Lezaire’s pain, dragging him down and pinning his shoulders to the mat with a Small Package!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

“Small package, Bobbo?”

 

“I ain’t saying nothin’.”

 

The close fall brings the fans to their feet, but alas, Lezaire kicks out, dashing their hopes. The Canadian hero struggles to his feet, feeling about as much pain a man can feel, so much so he’s feeling woozy. This allows Gilbert to make an obscure gesture, as if to ready himself for the Iron Claw-

 

OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!

 

-But instead, he goes down south, WAY down south, locking on the dreaded Testicular Claw, paralyzing young Lezaire on the spot! Valentine applauds his young padawan, but he can’t help but cringe as he remembers Jet’s uppercut to the groin from the week before…

 

“I have no love loss for Citizen Lezaire, but this is just ghastly treatment from this young rookie! He’s doing everything in his power to win this match as soon as possible, even if future generations of Lezaire’s have to suffer!”

 

Even the crowd must cringe at such a sight, every man in the arena sympathizing with Lezaire’s plight, while Valentine hollers from ringside, “Pin him again!”

 

Gilbert heed’s his trainer’s advice and pulls Ace down and pins him down with a School Boy, the Testicular Claw still applied! Soapdish slides over and makes the count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

… But Soapdish looks out of the corner of his eye, finding Lezaire’s hand clutching the bottom rope in desperation! He stops the count, pointing to Lezaire’s hand as Gilbert looks up at him, shocked, pleading for the three count!

 

“Isn’t this a hardcore match?” Comet ponders. “There’s no rope breaks in a hardcore match, how could Citizen Soapdish make that mistake…?”

 

“Maybe a certain someone would sure he would forget with a large pay off…”

 

“You mean Ace, right?”

 

“Yes, Ace.”

 

Valentine tells his young pupil to focus, all the while sliding Gilbert a little teacher’s aid; a big red stop sign! Rob takes the stop sign in both hands, twirling back to his feet, waiting for his opponent to climb to his feet, if he can that is.

 

Finally, Lezaire staggers to his feet, obviously disoriented as he stumbles about, finally coming eye-to-eye to Gilbert who swings the sign for the knock out blow-

 

*WHOOSH!*

 

-But it’s ducked underneath by the Canadian! The sexual harassment finally ends as Lezaire leaps into the air and plants both feet into Gilbert’s back, sending him into the corner with a Dropkick! The sign flies out of Robzilla’s hands and he hits the turnbuckles sternum first and sent stumbling backward into Ace’s waiting and eager clutches.

 

Showing much more proficiency than his usual novice technical abilities, Ace expertly takes Gilbert’s right arm with his own and locks it in a chickenwing, then using his free arm to apply a Facelock!

 

Riley cries, “Huzzah!” as Lezaire drops to the mat and applies a body scissors, tangling with Gilbert so he can’t move a muscle. “I don’t know who’s more impressive, Comet. Both men know how to turn the course of the match as Ace is showing now, buying himself some time to *ahem* gain some movement in his lower half, while working Gilbert’s neck as Spike Jenkins did on Lockdown.”

 

Thrashing about wildly, Gilbert tries desperately to escape Lezaire’s determined clutches, but Lezaire won’t let him go! Neither man has support from the fans, and the long rest hold causes the fans to jeer loudly, but Gilbert soon has them cheering in hope as he tries to pull himself closer to the ropes, grabbing the outstretched hand of Timothy Valentine, who pulls his student out of the ring and away from Lezaire’s grasp!

 

“Now that’s some fine teamwork, Comet,” Riley notes. “Valentine knew when to help, and Gilbert knew the help was there. That’s some Ace lacks, apart from functioning genitalia of course.”

 

“That may well be the key to this match, Robert. As much as I loathe these vile conditions, Valentine’s interference is legal, and the numbers game is bond to catch up with Citizen Ace sooner or later!”

 

Valentine tries to give his protégé some advice as he attempts to regroup, but Lezaire has other plans as he backs into the strands behind him and hurtles across the ring, sliding across the canvas with a baseball slide!

 

But Valentine and Gilbert part to each side and Lezaire lands on his feet. Valentine settles the score as he grabs a mop from his trolley and-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-Breaks it across Lezaire’s face! The Canadian hits the concrete as Valentine explains to Gilbert the importance of having someone at ringside, and having them interfere makes you no less of a man…

 

*WHAM!*

 

Gilbert looks on in shock as Valentine crumples to the floor, Steve standing over him with camera in hand!

This finally draws some cheers from the fans as Steve backs away, filming the carnage as if nothing had happened. Gilbert storms towards him with revenge in mind, but one subtle step forward from the cameraman has him retreating backward. Lezaire takes advantage by reaching over and grabbing the shopping trolley and ramming it into Gilbert’s back, taking the rookie’s legs out from under him and placing him neatly inside the trolley!

 

“Steve!?” Riley yells, wondering what the hell just happened.”Steve lays out Valentine form behind, but… why? He’s an old man for Christ’s sake!”

 

“I don’t know, but right now, that’s not important! Citizen Steve does the right thing for *justice* by making this an even contest! Though his intentions remain a mystery, he’s given Lezaire the chance to prove his worth on his own in a hardcore environment.”

 

Lezaire sends the trolley shakily across the floor, past Steve, past the referee, past the birds in the trees and straight into the guard rail, sending Gilbert hurtling into the crowd! Several fans try to get close to Gilbert and get a few shots in, but security soon arrives to give him some room as he rustles through the mess on the floor.

 

ACE-CAM!

 

Lezaire comes over with a confident swagger, completely ignoring Steve’s handiwork to gloat and proclaim; "Now you see me, now you don't. Gilbert thinks he will, but I know he won't!" Steve simply sighs at this shameless display as Lezaire walks over to the guard rail, reaching over to grab his opponent and drag his sorry carcass to his feet-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-but a sudden, well-timed shot to the head with a kendo stick has Lezaire reeling![/i][/i]

 

ACE-CAM!

 

“Is it possible for Citizen Lezaire not to make a fool of himself?” Comet wonders, shaking his head in disbelief as Gilbert steps up onto the guard rail, almost stumbling off, but he manages to leap off and nail Ace in the forehead with a kendo stick assisted clothesline!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“I love the kid, Comet, he reminds me of… well, me, with his dashing good looks and technical ability, but even I wasn’t that moronic. In a hardcore environment, you can’t leave your opponent unchecked, or you’ll leave yourself wide open.”

 

*CRACK!*

 

Another shot to the head has Lezaire running for the hills, sliding back into the ring to stop the onslaught, but Gilbert senses he may be on the verge of something big and slides in after the Canadian, climbing to his feet, wielding the kendo stick awkwardly, but with devastating effect. Ace, trying to shoo away the birds flying around his noggin’ wearily climbs to his feet, spinning around to meet Gilbert, but the lady thriller has already begun charging headlong, stick raised, bringing it down-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-Lezaire dives out of the way in the nick of time, taking Gilbert down with a Drop Toe Hold head first onto the kendo stick!

 

“And just like that, he’s renewed my faith in him,” says Riley, politely golf clapping that performance. “When he has to, he has reflexes like a cat, and agility to match, just look at him already prepare for his next move…”

 

Lezaire uses his hold of Gilbert’s ankles to cross them over and trap Rob’s left leg between his own, reaching across Gilbert’s back and taking hold of him with a face lock, wrenching back and contorting the neck into agonizing angles!

 

“Would a fool be capable of that, Comet? Again, he buys himself some time to recover from those hard shots and work the neck at the same time.”

 

“Although it pains me to agree with you, yes, that was some intelligent work from Citizen Lezaire, but it seems each man takes control when the other makes a mistake. This time it was Gilbert’s over eagerness to deliver the final blow that got him in this predicament!”

 

No matter how much Gilbert struggles, writhing and wiggling, he can’t slip away from Lezaire’s hold. Ace amazingly keeps his eyes focused on the task at hand, trying his best to work Robzilla’s neck and weaken it.

 

Gilbert whimpers in pain, but some hope lays on the horizon; he darts his eyes left to find Timothy Valentine struggling to his feet, pulling himself up by the ring apron. Gilbert motions to the kendo stick laying not three feet away, but just out of his reach. Gilbert tries to pull himself away and divert Lezaire’s attention while Valentine slips underneath the bottom rope and takes the kendo stick in hand-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-Delivering a knock-out blow and forcing Lezaire to relinquish his hold! Valentine quickly hops out of the ring as Steve puts his camera down and glares at him warily, but Valentine simply smirks as Gilbert crawls away, lifting himself up at the corner.

 

“What a filthy, low-life snake!” appeals Comet, jumping out of his seat, ready to smite the evildoer before Riley pulls him back down.

 

“Settle down, Comet,” Riley tells his partner, “it’s not like he ambushed Mark Stevens, he ambushed Ace Lezaire, one of the dirtiest players in the game!”

 

“It’s still an injustice all the same! I thought the odds were even, but Valentine has reared his ugly head once again. By the way, Mark Stevens is my favorite, all-time wrestler in the whole world!” Comet says, giving a thumbs up and long, obvious wink into the camera.

 

“You sniveling suck-up,” Riley replies with a condescending shake of the head, before lighting a candle at his Flesher Shrine™.

 

Valentine involves himself once again, chucking some brass knuckles Gilbert’s way! The Lady-Thriller puts them on, finding a nice and snug fit, before waiting for his opponent to climb to his feet. Steve rounds the corner, making sure to get a good close-up of Gilbert. Rob smirks into the camera, before turning to Ace and preparing to level him with one blow…

 

… Steve trips Gilbert up! The cameraman claims innocence when Gilbert snaps back around, glaring as menacingly as a five foot eleven, one hundred and sixty five pound man can. He wastes no time with a lowly cameraman though, turning his attention back to his opponent as he swings wildly with the knucks-

 

*WHACK!*

 

-But a spinning roundhouse kick to the jaw levels Gilbert and the brass knuckles go flying into the air!

 

“Steve interferes again!” protests Riley, pointing rudely to the cameraman. “I thought he detested Lezaire, what’s the go?”

 

Looking up into the lights, Ace spots the brass knuckles coming back down to earth by the miracle of gravity, and catches them in eager palms, putting them over his hand.

 

As Robzilla is spun around by the force of the kick, Ace rears back…

 

WHAP!

 

WHAP!

 

WHAP!

 

…Three snap jabs stun the lady thriller, before Lezaire spins around follows through and-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-he knocks Gilbert down with a discuss punch, aided by the brass knuckles! Gilbert falls to the canvas and Ace covers him, throwing the knucks away, thinking this is enough, and hooking Robzilla by the leg for the pin…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTTHHHRRRRRRRR…

 

But NO! Gilbert rolls a shoulder from the mat to break the count, attempting to crawl away but Lezaire stalks after Robzilla, raising him to his feet and pushing him into the corner. Ace takes him by the hand and whips him across the ring into the opposite turnbuckles. The shunt Gilbert feels as he hits does nothing to improve the condition of his neck as he bounces off the pads and comes stumbling back to the centre of the ring where Lezaire is waiting, ready to take him around the neck by the ankles and flip him over with an Ankle Scissors!

 

Capitalizing quickly, Lezaire expertly pivots himself around and mounts Gilbert, his face buried in the canvas. Ace quickly takes hold of both his arms in a Double Chickenwing!

 

“Wait a minute, what move could Citizen Lezaire possible be going for?” Comet wonders.

 

“One we haven’t seen in a long time, but it doesn’t matter, because Gilbert is fighting out of it!”

 

As Riley points out, Gilbert wriggles away and frees his arms, taking Lezaire’s left arm and pulling him over his shoulder with an Arm Drag, both men quickly spinning to their feet. With Gilbert’s stubborn resistance to his submission, Ace decides to end it as he always does, doubling Gilbert over with a Spinning Sobat kick to the bread basket, twisting around and taking Robzilla around the neck!

 

“Ace Crusher!” Riley excitedly cries. “Lezaire’s worked this match like a pro, weakening the neck to make his finisher oh so more effective!”

 

The crowd rise to their feet, ready to roar, but Gilbert won’t go down easily, the events of Lockdown in the front of his mind. Robzilla counters, quickly taking Lezaire around the neck and arm, holding him in place with a surprise Sleeper hold!

 

“…But Citizen Gilbert has learnt his lesson well, Bobbo, knowing the counter the Ace Crusher after falling to the Bad Beat on Lockdown, a very similar move indeed. I have to commend the kid on his preparation!”

 

Lezaire struggles, his hands still gripped around Robzilla’s neck, but the more he tries to struggle, the more pressure Gilbert applies, the smaller man using all his might to keep Lezaire still. Once Ace begins to fade and ceases to put up much of a fight, Gilbert links his right leg around Lezaire’s left, pulling him down to the canvas with a Russian Leg Sweep!

 

The crowd boos as Gilbert heads to the turnbuckles, Valentine waiting on the ring apron, handing him a steel chain, which he wraps around his hand as he heads to the top…

 

“Despite his cowardly persona, Citizen Gilbert has taken kindly to this stipulation, using every kind of weapon he can find to take Lezaire down!”

 

“Of course he has, Comet. On the mean streets of Chappaqua, weapons are a necessity to survive and blood spilled on a daily basis. I’ll never know how he made it out of there alive…”

 

“I’ve been to Chappaqua. Nice blueberry pie, I must say.”

 

Gilbert kisses his fist and points it towards a prone Lezaire, lying flat on his back. His eyes suddenly open as he sees Gilbert fly off the top rope, chain sparkling in the lights, before-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-Gilbert drops the point of his fist right on Lezaire’s noggin’, knocking him out cold with the steel chain! The impact bruises Gilbert’s hand, causing the young man to pout and try to kiss it better. “Stop crying and cover him!” comes Timothy Valentine’s instructions, which Gilbert follows, draping his arm across Lezaire’s chest for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEE….

 

 

 

“NO!” The two commentators cry in unison as Ace shoots a shoulder up at the last possible moment to break the count! Gilbert is absolutely distraught! He looks over to Valentine who just shakes his head in disbelief, before telling Gilbert to get him up and finish him.

 

“Citizen Gilbert has to be panicking now, Bobbo. He’s tried all sorts of weapons to bring Lezaire down, but he can’t quite get over the line!”

 

“But how will Ace put him away from here? Gilbert’s neck is weak, but his finisher is no good, and he’s used up his core submission moves…”

 

A cut has now appeared on Lezaire’s forehead, as blood trickles at a steady rate. Gilbert clenches his fist and punches the cut over and over, trying to increase the blood loss. Gilbert backs Ace into the ropes, expecting to whip him across the ring with ease…

 

But Ace suddenly counters, reversing the whip, but instead of propelling Gilbert into the ropes, Lezaire wraps Gilbert’s own arm around his neck and pulls him down with a Neckbreaker!

 

“A beautiful move from Citizen Lezaire, showing some spirit and energy we have never seen in him before! I know I’ve seen that move somewhere before, though…”

 

“Hey, Comet, want a game of Knifey Spoony?”

 

Hitting the mat on the back of his neck, Gilbert rolls around on the canvas clutching at his injured neck, but Lezaire plants his boot into the back of his neck, keeping him in place as he stands on the back of Gilbert’s legs, then grabs both his arms as the crowd rises to their feet, anticipation growing…

 

“What in heavens is he trying to do, Robert? I haven’t seen this out of young Lezaire before…”

 

Pulling back on Gilbert’s arms, Lezaire rocks back into a sitting position with an Inverted Surfboard. Just as Lezaire is about too complete the move, applying an inverted Facelock, he notices the Kendo Stick, just at arms length…

 

Grabbing the Kendo stick in one hand, Lezaire pulls it across Gilbert’s throat, pulling back on it! The crowd begins to roar, Gilbert literally suspended in mid-air as Lezaire wrenches back with the devastating move!

 

“I have never seen this before, Comet, not ever! Lezaire has an Inverted Surfboard locked on, with a Kendo Stick chocking the life out of Gilbert! Here comes Soapdish to check on Robzilla…”

 

Soapdish barely need utter the words, “Have you had enough, Rob?” before Gilbert taps, the crowd suddenly going wild as the bell rings and Lezaire lets him go!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“The winner of this match,” Funyon begins, “As a result of submission… ACE LEZAIRE!”

 

“An impressive display from Citizen Lezaire, Bobbo, pulling out something special, something I didn’t think he was capable off!” Comet cries as Lezaire has his hand raised by Soapdish, Steve climbing into the ring to film this winning occasion while the fans boo as “Hyper Music” once again plays.

 

“I tell you, Comet, inside that handsome exterior with perfectly manicured hands there lies a dormant beast, ready to tear his opponents to shreds! Gilbert looks in real trouble after that last move, which was something spectacular…”

 

“It was indeed, Bobbo, but we’ll have to go to a commercial break before Lezaire brings out a hold parade in his honor, so loyal citizens, stay tuned for more SWF action!”

 

The scene fades out, showing a victorious Lezaire waving to the fans, while Valentine checks on Gilbert, who struggles to barely move, a dark, red imprint left on his neck…

Edited July 13, 2004 by Grand Slam

[the.weej 0]

As the show returns from commercial, the crowd is buzzing with excitement inside the Mellon Arena. Fans rush down front to get in view of the camera as it pans the ringside area.

 

Comet: Welcome back to Smarkdown, ladies and gentlemen! We’re going to keep things moving here tonight, and call the Audubon society, because our next match is going to feature the official SWF debut of the Birdman, as he goes against our very own Petey the Irish Penguin!

 

Riley (distastefully): I’ve seen this guy; he looks like a second-rate Gobbledygooker knock-off! I think that he’s just trying to horn in on Petey’s popularity!

 

Comet (shrugging): Well, whatever his motivations for wearing that costume, I’ve seen him in a few tryout matches, and let me tell you, he is an AMAZING talent; simply amazing!

 

Riley: Talent may take you far… eventually… but I expect Petey to win here tonight!

 

Comet: Oh, me as well, Robert. While I believe that Birdman has the tools to potentially go far in the Cruiserweight division, I think that Petey’s experience is going to prove to be too much for him to handle here in his very first official match.

 

 

Meanwhile, Funyon gets up from his seat at ringside and climbs up the steel steps to get into the ring. He walks to the middle of the ring and waits for his cue from the back to begin speaking:

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!

 

 

LEEEET’S GET RETARDED… IN HEEEEEEEEERE!

 

The crowd seems enthusiastic as the Black Eyed Peas “Let’s Get Retarded” begins to play.

 

(Will.I.Am): In this context,

There's no disrespect,

So, when I bust my rhyme,

You break your necks.

We got five minutes for us to disconnect,

From all intellect,

Collect the rhythm effect…

 

 

Suddenly, the SWF’s newest wrestler bursts from behind the curtain onto the stage, dancing around excitedly and flapping his “wings” in beat with the music. He thrills the crowd with a couple of acrobatic dance moves before running down towards the ring, stopping occasionally as he does so to shake hands with the fans at ringside. Birdman slides underneath the ring and pops to his feet quickly, where he continues dancing around Funyon, to the announcer’s bemusement.

 

 

Funyon (continuing): Introducing first, in the ring at this time: from parts unknown, weighing in at two hundred nineteen pounds… the Birdman!

 

 

Birdman tries to coerce Funyon into dancing with him, but the announcer politely declines. Nonplussed, Birdman continues to dance around the ring.

 

 

Comet: Well, I’ll say this for the young man: he certainly looks happy to be here!

 

Riley: Just look at him in there, trying to horn in on Petey’s racket! Somebody should call the Patent Bureau, or sue him for gimmick infringement!

 

Comet (scolding): That’s quite enough, Robert. Don’t be so hard on the young man in his first match! I’m sure that he’s just excited about finally getting his big chance!

 

 

With that, Birdman’s music fades out, and the lights dim in the Mellon Arena. There is a brief quiet before the following words can be heard piercing the silence:

 

“BBbuuuurrrr, it is cold in here!”

 

With that, the crowd begins to roar in anticipation and, only a few seconds later, the arena is flooded in blue light, before the following is heard over the crowd:

 

 

“UNLEASH THE FURY!”

 

… And that quickly leads into the bagpipes and the energetic beat of Dropkick Murphys’ “Barroom Hero.” The crowd becomes ecstatic, and begins to chant the Squawker’s name in unison:

 

 

Crowd: PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

 

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

The stage is showered with white, orange and green pyro, and the Squawker himself steps out onto the stage as penguin-shaped confetti begins to rain down from the rafters.

 

 

Crowd: PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

 

Petey shadow boxes on the stage for a few seconds, to the crowd’s utter delight, before he waddles confidently down to ringside, stopping occasionally to allow a few of the younger fans (and some of the comelier female fans) to pet his beak.

 

 

 

Comet: Birdman was met by some cheerful fans, and appears to be well on his way to becoming a crowd favorite, but he’s still got a LONG way to go before he gets the kind of reactions that Petey does!

 

Riley: Well, there’s no denying it, Comet. EVERYBODY loves Petey!

 

Funyon: His opponent! From the South Pole, weighing in at two hundred twenty-seven pounds… PETEY! The Irish Penguin!

 

 

Crowd: PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

 

 

Petey rolls underneath the bottom rope to enter the ring, and uses the turnbuckles to help himself get back to his feet. He gestures to the fans one last time before he turns his attention back to his opponent for the night.

 

 

Comet (excitedly): Here we go! It’s time to get this show on the road!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Referee Eddy Long motions for the timekeeper to ring the bell, and then gestures for the two men to wrestle. Petey and the Birdman circle each other tentatively, appear ready to lock up in the center of the ring, when Petey suddenly brushes Birdman off to the side. Birdman stands by in utter confusion, not knowing what to expect, when the Squawker suddenly struts down the center of the ring, showing off his pimp-ish dance moves.

 

Crowd: PEET-EY’S PIMP! PEET-EY’S PIMP! PEET-EY’S PIMP! PEET-EY’S PIMP!

 

Riley: Well, there’s no denying the crowd right now, Comet; Petey’s definitely pimp!

 

Comet: He is, indeed, Citizen Riley. He’s even more pimp that Zeus used to be with all of the honeys in ancient Greece! But, I can’t help but wonder why he would want to start this match off with an exhibition of dance moves!

 

Riley (scolding): don’t doubt the Pimp, Comet. It’s simple, if you think about it: Birdman is already developing a reputation in the back as a guy who likes to scout his opponents. It just looks like Petey is trying to throw him off of his game!

 

Comet (knowingly): So that he doesn’t know what to expect! Right, I’m with you, Bobbo! Brilliant thinking by the Squawker!

 

 

 

Upon completing his dance, Petey turns his attention over to his opponent and wipes imaginary sweat from his brow before flinging it towards the Birdman, who sells it as if he’d been slapped, tripping over his own feet as he falls backwards onto his BUTT on the canvas!

 

 

Petey: SQUAWK!

 

 

Crowd: PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

 

 

Comet (incredulous): What in the world was that? Petey didn’t even touch him, and the Birdman went down!

 

Riley: That’s called mind games, Comet! He got him to flinch! That’s called experience over nervousness; Petey’s already thrown the Birdman off by deviating from his gameplan, and now that Birdman doesn’t know what to expect, Petey’s toying with him, having a little fun at his expense!

 

Comet: Well, let’s just hope that Birdman works out his jitters here quickly, or this has the makings of a very bizarre matchup!

 

 

Slightly embarrassed, Birdman gets back to his feet and locks up with Petey in the center of the ring, but the Squawker buries a knee into his midsection and then blasts him in the chest with an open-hand chop, which Birdman sells as if he’d been shot! He stumbles back onto the ropes for support as Petey takes a step back before moving towards Birdman again, getting a running start as he lays into him with yet another open-hand chop! Birdman turns away from Petey to lean against the ropes, which only leaves him open for a clubbing forearm blow to the back by the Irish Pimp that sends him to his knees. Satisfied with his progress, Petey turns towards the center of the ring and struts a little more, much to the fans’ delight!

 

 

Crowd: PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

 

 

 

Comet: Petey had better concentrate on getting this win! I mean, I realize that he’s got the match well in hand right now, but I’ve seen this kid wrestle in his tryout matches, and Petey doesn’t want to give him a chance to get on track in this matchup!

 

Riley (admonishingly): Oh come on, Comet! Aren’t you the one who’s always saying that these guys are out here to entertain the fans? Well, let him entertain the fans, already!

 

Comet: When did you become such a big Petey supporter?

 

Riley (shrugging): I dunno, Comet. I just can’t hate Petey!

 

 

Petey walks over to Birdman and pulls him to his feet, trapping him against the ropes in a side headlock, but Birdman pushes him off, dropping to the canvas as Petey bounces off the ropes. The Squawker runs over the top of Birdman and across the ring to the other side, and Birdman springs back to his feet before Petey rebounds a second time, leaping into the air and wrapping his hands behind Petey’s neck as he plants his feet into Petey’s midsection…

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… Before falling straight down to the canvas and jamming his knees into Petey’s chin! The Squawker staggers backwards as Birdman gets back to his feet, pressing his attack by nailing Petey with an elbow just underneath the beak! Petey turns away from Birdman, but gets no reprieve, as Birdman leaps into the air and blasts Petey in the back with a dropkick that sends him sprawling into the ropes, and Birdman sneaks up behind Petey as he stumbles backwards off of the ropes and traps him into a rollup!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH-NO! Petey kicks out fairly easily at two, and crawls towards the nearest corner, using the turnbuckles to pull himself back to his feet, but Birdman is up first. The Fearless Flyer waits for Petey to get to his feet before charging into the corner, leaping into the air to deliver a vertical splash, but Petey lowers his shoulder and lifts Birdman over the top rope and outside the ring! Birdman’s quick thinking saves him from falling all the way to the floor, though, as he grabs onto the top rope and guides himself onto the ring apron. Petey turns around quickly and swings a quick right hand towards Birdman, but the Mighty Molter blocks it with his left arm and catches the Squawker with a sudden jab to the face! As Petey staggers away from the ropes, Birdman vaults onto the top rope and springs into the ring fearlessly, extending his body to catch Petey with a flying cross-body block, but the Squawker Punk Rocker rolls through the bodypress and traps the Birdman in a pinning combination!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR—NO! Birdman manages to kickout at two, and manages to get to his feet as Petey quickly runs over to him and traps both of the Birdman’s arms underneath his armpits. He unleashes a primal battle cry before bashing Birdman in the face repeatedly with his beak!

 

 

Crowd: PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

 

 

Comet: Penguin Panic! He’s got him trapped in the Penguin Panic!

 

 

 

When he finally finishes bashing Birdman in the face, Petey pops his hips as he falls backwards, launching Birdman overhead and back down to the canvas with a stunning suplex variation! He gets to his knees holding his head in surprising pain as Birdman rolls out of the ring in order to recover.

 

 

Riley: What’s wrong with poor Petey? What happened to him?

 

Comet: It looks like he may have done nearly as much damage to himself as he did to Birdman with that Penguin Panic!

 

Riley (angry): That’s not possible! There’s no way that Petey should have hurt himself headbutting Birdman… unless Birdman’s costume is rigged somehow!

 

Comet: Now, calm down, Robert…

 

Riley (interrupting): That’s got to be it! I’ll bet that he’s got something underneath that mask that Petey injured his head on!

 

Comet (rolling his eyes): Sure, Bobby, like his head…

 

 

With his head still ringing, but not willing to yield the advantage, Petey races to the corner and climbs to the top rope and fearlessly leaps outside the ring, somersaulting in mid-air as he splashes into Birdman with a corkscrew moonsault!

 

Comet: You’ve got to hand it to Petey, Robert; he’s doing an excellent job of keeping the Birdman off guard!

 

Riley: And that’s exactly what you want to do when you’re facing a rookie. After all, Birdman has seen Petey wrestle; Petey’s never seen Birdman wrestler, so in that respect, the advantage goes to Birdman, which makes it essential for Petey to keep him guessing by switching up a few of his moves!

 

 

Petey pulls Birdman to his feet and rolls him into the ring. Crawling in after him, the Squawker immediately covers to try and get a quick pin:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH—Kickout! Birdman gets the shoulder up! Petey pulls him to his feet and then immediately takes him back down with a snapmare. The Squawker Punk Rocker then jumps onto Birdman’s chest and, with a loud “SQUAWK,” commences to waddle rapidly on his opponent’s chest!

 

 

Riley: And now that he’s in control, you’re going to see some more vintage Petey; there’s the Fury Unleashed!

 

 

Petey hops off of Birdman’s chest and tries for another cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

NO! Birdman just barely gets the shoulder up! Slightly irritated, Petey pulls Birdman to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring into the corner. Birdman slams back-first into the turnbuckles, but instinctively lifts his legs up as Petey rushes into the corner and thrusts his legs forward as hard as he can, blasting the Squawker with a double kick to the chest! Petey staggers backwards as Birdman settles back onto the mat, and charges back into the corner, but this time, Birdman ducks down and grabs Petey by the waist, lifting him off of the mat and falling backwards as he slams him chest-first into the top turnbuckle! Birdman quickly runs across the ring as Petey is leaning awkwardly against the turnbuckles, and dashes back towards the corner, leaping into the air as he crashes into the corner, crushing Petey’s chest against the unforgiving steel turnbuckles with a running vertical splash! Petey staggers backwards out of the corner and falls flat on his back, as Birdman points towards the corner and steps out onto the ring apron.

 

 

Comet: It looks like Birdman has finally found his comfort zone, and seems to be in control at the moment. In fact, I think that he may be going for his finisher right now!

 

Riley: He’ll never hit it; Petey will move. Mark my words!

 

 

 

Birdman climbs up to the top rope and settles himself on the turnbuckle, where he looks out into the crowd and unleashes a loud birdcall.

 

 

Birdman: CAW-CAW!

 

But, before he can leap off of the turnbuckle, Petey springs to his feet and rushes desperately towards the corner, lunging at Birdman’s feet to send him tumbling off of the turnbuckle back into the ring. Birdman instinctively tucks himself into a ball as he falls into the ring, and rolls back to his feet with minimum damage sustained, but Petey sneaks up behind him, grabbing underneath his leg with one hand and around the waist with the other, lifting him into the air…

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

… And annihilating Birdman with the Arctic Atomic Bomb! Birdman collapses to the canvas and Petey falls backwards, still recovering from his previous attacks.

 

Crowd: PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

PEET-EEY!

 

 

Comet: By Thor’s Hammer! The Arctic Atomic Bomb! Both men are down!

 

Riley: Yeah, but you have to figure that Petey will be the first to recover; Why, the AAB is one of the most devastating maneuvers in the history of wrestling! It might even be more damaging than the Dangerlust!

 

 

Petey crawls over to Birdman and falls on top of him for the cover:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

NO!

 

 

Just before the referee’s hand can drop a third time, Birdman barely gets the shoulder up! Petey pulls Birdman to his feet and begins to pepper his with a series of rapid-fire punches to the head, and then pauses to do an Irish jig as Birdman staggers in front of him, before knocking him back down to the canvas with a hard right flipper! Petey pulls Birdman back to his feet and whips him across the ring into the corner. With a mighty “SQUAWK,” Petey rushes into the corner after him, leaping into the air to squash him with a Stinger Splash…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But Birdman dives out of the way at the last second, and Petey’s chest crashes into the turnbuckles, instead! He staggers out of the corner as Birdman bounces off of the ropes…

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… And wraps his arm around Petey’s head, slamming it into the canvas with a running bulldog! Petey flops over onto his back as Birdman pulls himself to his feet. Seeing Petey in perfect position, he immediately runs for the corner!

 

 

Riley: Get up, Petey! Move before it’s too late!

 

 

Birdman steps out onto the ring apron and quickly climbs onto the top turnbuckle. Not willing to take the chance of being surprised again, he forgoes his cry to the fans as he leaps fearlessly off of the top turnbuckle…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And lands in a seated position on top of Petey’s chest!

 

 

Comet: And there’s Birdman’s finisher! Sit-down splash from the top rope! He calls it the Bird Dropping! But, will it be enough to take out Petey?

 

 

Birdman reaches back and grabs one of Petey’s legs, pulling it forward as he tries to secure the pin:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

Referee Long motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell and “Let’s Get Retarded” begins to play again as Birdman releases Petey’s leg and falls forward to his knees.

 

 

Funyon: Here is your winner… The BIIIIIRDMAN!

 

Comet: What a big-time upset for the Birdman! And what a way to make your SWF debut!

 

Riley: Beginner’s luck!

 

Birdman pulls Petey to his feet and the two men share a handshake as the crowd roars in approval.

 

Comet (happily): Nice to see sportsmanship by these two! Well folks, we’ll be right back with more great SWF Action!

[the.weej 0]

Andrea climbs out of a cab, pays her fare and walks towards the Mellon Arena. She shows the proper identification to a security officer and steps inside.

 

“Now, where would Zenon’s office be? I hate these damn corridors.

 

Andrea heads down a hallway at random, looking for some type of directory or map, but finds none.

 

“Who designed this?” Andrea questions herself. She soon finds the answer on a plaque set into the wall. “George Costanza? COSTANZA!”

 

Andrea comes to an intersection, flips a coin, and turns down the left corridor, coming across The Masked Man talking to someone on a cell phone in Romanian.

 

“Isser ut sifdin - demiss orim arplin duen. Fosstin enzi toedem parrimade sesti. Srigelnen hor jindith?

 

Ut gosna lishgit kirl, vamder hor persined wilnoss malharam mollot vel jarmish. Hor semmos donshelling virridents instill toufon...” The Sexual Maskosaurus notices Andrea hanging around, eavesdropping. He stares at her until she moves on.

[the.weej 0]

“WELCOME BACK TO SSSSSMMMMMAAAAAARRRRRKKKKDDDDOOOOOOWWWWNNNNNNN~!”

 

The Pittsburgh crowd goes wild as the lights come back up and the generic rock music of the Smarkdown theme reverberates around the Mellon Arena. The camera pans over the crowd picking out signs such as ‘Drazon kickz ballz!’, “Spike + Toxxic + Davis = STD” and a group of teenage girls with a huge one reading ‘Johnny Dangerous is my hero!’

 

“How easily the young are led astray,” Bobby Riley sighs as Comet takes a deep breath to recover the oxygen lost in his overenthusiastic welcome. Sensing his opportunity, the colour man leaps into the gap.

 

“Greetings, fellow Flesherites!” he beams, trying unsuccessfully to match his companion’s effortlessly cheesy grin. “I’m Bobby Riley, and-”

 

“-I’m CYYYYYYYCCCCCLLLLLLOOOOONNNNNNNNEEEEEEE COMET!” the masked superhero interrupts gleefully, spilling Pepsi Max all down Riley’s shirt.

 

“...just once!” Riley yells at him. “Just once is all I ask!”

 

However, before Riley can recover his dignity the arena blacks out completely. There is silence for a couple of seconds as the fans whisper amongst themselves... then Marilyn Manson’s ‘Dope Hat’ kicks up over the PA and the crowd comes to life once more as the lights come back on, revealing a familiar figure standing at the top of the entrance ramp. Jamie Drazon looks around for a couple of seconds, his intense blue eyes scanning the crowd, before making his way down the aisle towards the ring.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall,” Funyon booms from the centre of the ring. “Introducing first, from Vancouver, British Columbia; he weighs in at 243lbs; he is the ‘Hardcore Maniac’, JAYYYY-MEEEEE... DRAAAAAAAAAYYYYY-ZZZOOOONNN!!”

 

The crowd cheers the name and the Hardcore Maniac climbs through the ring ropes, shaking out a couple of limbs to loosen himself up. After something of a resurgence since his latest return to the SWF Drazon has been in his share of exciting matches, but even the Hardcore Maniac knows this is going to be tough. However, in true Drazon form he simply turns to await his opponent’s entrance, eager to start the kicking.

 

Drazon doesn’t have long to wait because the Smarktron abruptly blacks out before flashing up the words ‘Prepare To Be Proved Wrong’ in white letters as the crunching guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ ring out over the Mellon Arena. The picture changes to Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the-

 

GO!’

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

-explosion of red pyro announcing the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! The Pittsburgh faithful start to boo, and as the main riff kicks in Toxxic appears through the smoke with Jet at his side, wearing a t-shirt bearing his familiar slogan.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“And his opponent,” Funyon bellows over the chants, “accompanied to the ring by Jet; from Nottingham, England, he weighs 218lbs; the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXX-IIIC!!”

 

Toxxic pauses at the bottom of the ring to snap his neck from side-to-side and stares up at Drazon. For his part, the Hardcore Maniac simply gazes back and beckons the straight-edger into the ring so they can get on with this. Toxxic nods, smiling his trademark lopsided grin, and rolls in under the bottom rope before ascending the nearest turnbuckle and throwing his arms wide. This only incenses the fans to chant louder, but the straight-edger shows no sign of caring.

 

“Comet, I don’t understand how you can support a psychotic, heavy-drinking, drug-using animal who takes pleasure in kicking other men in the testicles over a young, clean-living, rule-abiding and successful role model like Toxxic,” Riley comments. “He has a nice line in eyeliner, too.”

 

“And he and his friends assaulted Tom Flesher last show,” Comet reminds his partner as Toxxic strips his shirt off and throws it to Jet outside.

 

“....go Drazon! Whoo! Kick his head off!”

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

Jamie Drazon shows every intention of doing just that, although you can bet that it’s not a direct result of Riley’s instruction. However, the Hardcore Maniac does close in quickly and lashes out with a boot towards the straight-edger’s head which Toxxic back-pedals to avoid. Drazon follows up and snaps off a palm strike, but Toxxic ducks under that too and dodges past his opponent towards the opposite side of the ring in an attempt to avoid getting boxed in. Drazon simply turns and heads after him but Toxxic continues to scoot away, circling the man from Vancouver with his eyes watching for any attack.

 

“Nathaniel Kibagami, Danny Williams... even Spike Jenkins,” Comet notes. “Toxxic has faced a lot of wrestlers who specialise in striking recently, and he is being careful to keep his distance from another one in Citizen Drazon - and wisely so, I might add.”

 

His familiarity with the style may explain why Toxxic’s face has yet to come into contact with any of the Hardcore Maniac’s limbs, but the straight-edger knows he can’t back away for ever. He watches Drazon’s legs, sees a right-footed kick about to come his way and darts sideways and forward, seeking to get inside the Maniac’s guard-

 

*SMACK!*

 

-only to run into a left-handed palm strike as Drazon’s feint claims its victim! Toxxic staggers backwards, ears ringing, and Jamie Drazon darts forward to follow up with a right-arm elbow strike - but now it’s Toxxic’s turn to counter, as the Straight-Edge Sensation takes his opponent down with a drop toehold!

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Well, it appears that being tag partners two shows ago has not prevented Citizens Toxxic and Drazon from holding back,” Comet notes as Toxxic scrambles back to his feet and puts some distance between himself and the rising Drazon. “Admittedly they did lose, but-”

 

“Oh, that’s got nothing to do with it,” Riley assures the masked man. “The fact that they can’t stand each other, on the other hand...”

 

Drazon pushes himself back up, but even as he does so Toxxic rushes back in and NAILS him in the head with a basement dropkick! The Hardcore Maniac goes down again and Toxxic hooks the leg, seeking to get an early pin...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW-

Kickout!

 

Drazon powers out before Eddy Long’s hand has even come down for the second time, but before the Hardcore Maniac can find his feet properly Toxxic has grabbed him and whipped him across the ring towards the far turnbuckles. Drazon reverses the momentum and sends the Straight-Edge Sensation in instead but Toxxic vaults to the top rope and comes back with a diving clothesline-

 

*WHAM!!*

 

-but Drazon has stepped to one side and sends a brutal Thai roundhouse kick into the British rookie’s jaw as he’s in mid-air! Toxxic lands HARD on his back, seeing stars and with his jaw almost disconnected, and Drazon drops down to cover him...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

Kickout!

 

It’s going to take more than that to put Toxxic away, but Drazon has regained the advantage in the match and knocked his opponent silly at the same time. With determination visible on his psychotic features the madman from Vancouver grabs Toxxic’s left leg before the straight-edger can squirm away and proceeds to stamp on the knee! Toxxic yells out in pain and crawls over onto his stomach, trying to get to the ropes and force Drazon to break the hold... but Jamie simply hauls Toxxic’s entire lower body into the air by the ankle, then slams the knee down onto the mat!

 

“You really can’t fault this tactic from Jamie Drazon,” Comet notes as Toxxic yells again and stretches for the ropes once more. “Taking away the legs of a wrestler who relies on his speed is a very effective move.” The superhero turns to his partner, who appears to be wrestling with himself. “What is it, Robert?”

 

“I can fault it!” Riley suddenly snaps, apparently scoring a pinfall. “I don’t care what Toxxic may have done - I can’t back Drazon against him, it’s just immoral!”

 

Apparently satisfied that he has done enough damage, Drazon wrenches Toxxic’s leg so that the Straight-Edge Sensation is forced over onto his back again, then releases the left leg and grabs Toxxic’s right one. The crowd start to rise in their seats as the Hardcore Maniac begins to twist, looking to slap a Figure-Four leglock on!

 

“Sacrilege!” Riley bellows. “Todd will strike you down!”

 

“Robert, Citizen Royal hasn’t been seen for months,” Comet reminds his partner. “I think Jamie Drazon can afford to risk a lightning bolt.”

 

Todd works in mysterious ways, however - either that or Toxxic just knows how to counter a Figure-Four as the rookie uses his aching left leg to boot Jamie Drazon up the arse and shove him away. Drazon stops himself short of the ring ropes and turns back to face his opponent as Toxxic pushes himself up to a slightly unsteady vertical base, and the Pittsburgh fans start to chant again.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Drazon wastes no time in closing the distance and charges across the ring while Toxxic turns to run - but only as far as the ring ropes, where he vaults off the second rope and comes flying back at Drazon with another, modified Role Reversal... and this one connects, sending the Hardcore Maniac crashing back-first to the canvas! Toxxic seems to have jarred his left knee on the landing though, and he is slightly slow to his feet as he clutches it with a pained expression. Drazon is pushing himself back up as well, but the rookie positions himself to keep slightly behind and to the side of the man from Vancouver before running in, hooking Drazon around the neck-

 

*BANG!!*

 

-and taking him down with the Straight-Edge neckbreaker!

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

When Drazon tries to rise this time Toxxic snares him in a reverse headlock immediately and tightens his hold, causing the Hardcore Maniac’s body to bend unnaturally backwards before the straight-edger drops to one knee, driving the uninjured right one into the back of Drazon’s neck. Before the downward momentum is fully spent Toxxic pops back up again and twists around, looking to nail the Diamond Cutter half of the Detoxx and send Drazon down to the mat... but Drazon counters by shifting his feet and locking a full nelson in!

 

“RAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Amazing!” Comet blurts out. “Citizen Drazon counters the Detoxx, and now he could be looking to deliver a Dragon Suplex!”

 

The same thought has struck Toxxic however, and the straight-edger wraps both his legs around Drazon’s to prevent the Hardcore Maniac from bringing him over onto his neck. Drazon tries to shift him, but with no effect - so the Canadian abruptly releases his grip and refastens it as a rear waistlock where he can get better leverage! Toxxic had to untangle his legs quickly to avoid landing on his face, and so when Drazon bridges backwards in a release German suplex the straight-edger hasn’t had the time to block again...

 

*WHUMP!*

 

...but in true Toxxic style he does manage to flip through the move and land on his feet! The left leg buckles slightly, but it holds, and Toxxic advances on Jamie Drazon.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“True brilliance from the Hot Commodity!” Riley beams. “That, Comet, is why Toxxic is challenging for the World Title after a mere six months in the SWF!”

 

Drazon is no fool and he knows Toxxic landed well. He bunches his legs, then athletically kips up and turns to face the Straight-Edge Sensation - but Toxxic is closer than the Hardcore Maniac counted on, and he walks right into a-

 

RIGHT!

 

LEFT!

 

RIGHT!

 

LEFT!

 

Windup...

 

DISCUS CLOTHESLINE...

 

 

Blocked!

 

“You know, one day Toxxic might learn not to try and outstrike these people,” Comet muses as Drazon catches the incoming arm on his own.

 

Jamie twists the luckless straight-edger’s wrist inwards, then fires off an elbow strike which snaps Toxxic’s jaw back. The force of the shot causes the rookie to take a couple of steps backwards and Drazon takes a moment to judge the distance before lashing out with another Thai roundhouse...

 

*wsshhff*

 

...but Toxxic ducks it, and as the Hardcore Maniac pivots on one foot the Brit takes a one-step sideways run-up and lashes out with his own right boot, aiming to superkick Drazon’s head clean off...

 

*WHAP!*

 

...but Drazon catches the strike in two hands, adjusts his grip and spins backwards, taking the Straight-Edge Sensation over and down with a Dragon Screw Legwhip! Toxxic lands hard and gets the wind knocked out of him, and Drazon sees the perfect opportunity to renew his assault on the rookie’s left leg. He takes hold of the ankle again, but Toxxic is having none of it and from his prone position he lashes out with his right boot-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-catching Drazon in his own left kneecap! The Hardcore Maniac grunts in pain and drops to one knee, and Toxxic lashes out again-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-booting Drazon in the face! This time the Canadian is forced to release Toxxic’s ankle as he topples backwards and clutches his head, and Toxxic takes this opportunity to show that he’s just as agile as Drazon and kip-up... but that left knee betrays him, and instead of performing a flawless showy manoeuvre he drops down and has to put out his left arm to prevent himself from falling completely. A twisted smile creeps over Drazon’s lips and the Hardcore Maniac darts forward, looking to nail the Shining Black - but Toxxic launches himself forward at shin height and his right leg drives hard into Jamie Drazon’s left, sending the Canadian head-over-heels as the soccer tackle connects!

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Yes!” Riley exults. “You show him, Toxxic! Whip him like Lenny The Lash at the Pittsburgh House of Pain and Pleasure!”

 

“...”

 

“...did I just say that?”

 

“Tell you what,” Comet suggests, “let’s pretend you didn’t and hope no-one notices...”

 

It isn’t just the bondage-loving denizens of Pittsburgh who are in pain tonight however; Jamie Drazon’s left shin is absolutely killing him and even the Hardcore Maniac’s vaunted endurance is unable to prevent him from limping as he struggles back to his feet. This of course is exactly why Toxxic uses the soccer tackle in his matches, and so it is the work of a moment for the Straight-Edge Sensation to lock a double underhook in on the injured Hardcore Maniac, then hoist him UP...

 

...AROUND...

 

 

...AND...

 

 

...DOWN!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Toxxic Shock Syndrome!” Comet yells as the rookie sends his opponent crashing face-first into the mat. “Can Toxxic have really disposed of Citizen Drazon so quickly!?”

 

The Straight-Edge Sensation flips Drazon over onto his back and hooks the leg, leaning into the cover and trying to put as much weight as possible on the Canadian’s shoulders...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-

Kickout!

 

“RRAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

Whether it is because Toxxic brought the move out too early or whether it is just the Hardcore Maniac’s unnatural resilience - either way, Jamie Drazon got his shoulder up before Eddy Long’s hand hit the canvas for the third time. Toxxic looks up at the referee in disbelief, then back down at Drazon as if thinking about trying the pin again... but, realising that never works, the Straight-Edge Sensation instead grabs his opponent by the hair and starts to haul the Canadian upright again. Jet jumps up onto the apron and starts arguing with the official about a perceived slow count, but Toxxic ignores his girlfriend’s antics and mimes cracking open a can.

 

“Caffeine Bomb!” Comet gasps. “Toxxic’s really trying to put Citizen Drazon away early here!”

 

“Well, he’s joint Number One Contender, and Zenon could make his title match any night,” Riley comments. “It’s only understandable that he doesn’t want to use too much energy up against a waste of space like Drazon.”

 

Toxxic pulls the Hardcore Maniac into a front facelock with his right arm and continues his mime by ‘drinking’ from the imaginary can in his left... but while Jet continues to argue with Eddy Long, Jamie Drazon releases his own bomb-

 

*CHING!!*

 

-right up between Toxxic’s thighs!

 

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“Criminal!” Riley bellows, his commentary partner’s mannerisms finally starting to rub off like Toxxic’s eyeliner. “Comet, Jamie Drazon just cheated! In full view of everyone!”

 

“I’m sorry, Bobbo,” Comet smirks. “My SuperVision unaccountably failed a moment ago and I have no idea what you’re talking about...”

 

Jet is evidently aghast at the result of her unintentional distraction of the referee and drops back down to the arena floor, allowing Eddy Long to turn around... but too late to do more than note that both men are down, and begin the mandatory ten-count.

 

‘ONE!’

 

“I’m telling you Comet, Drazon just hit Toxxic below the belt!” Riley protests.

 

‘TWO!’

 

“Really, Robert? Did the referee see it?”

 

‘THREE!’

 

“Well no, but-”

 

“-then according to official SWF rulings, it doesn’t count,” Comet finishes smugly.

 

‘FOUR!’

 

“...Comet?”

 

“Yes?”

 

‘FIVE!’

 

“No-one’s seen ‘Comet Strikes IV’, either.”

 

“Liar!” Comet splutters. “The box office takings in Asia alone are-”

 

‘SIX!’

 

“Comet, Drazon’s getting up!”

 

‘SEV-’

 

Sure enough, the Hardcore Maniac is starting to rise and as he makes it to his feet Eddy Long ceases the count. Drazon still looks slightly groggy but he’s in better shape that Toxxic who is only just managing to push himself up onto all fours. Abandoning any pretence at finesse the Canadian Madman (no, not Devin Townsend) simply strolls over to the pained Brit and kicks him as hard as he can in the ribs. Toxxic rolls away in an attempt to put some more distance between himself and his attacker but Drazon lunges and grabs the retreating straight-edger by his left ankle, then hauls him back into the middle of the ring! Jamie looks out at the crowd who rise in response, anticipating the Cross Kneebar - but before the Hardcore Maniac can get it locked in Toxxic pushes himself up onto his hands and rolls forward, breaking the Canadian’s grip.

 

“Superb countering from Toxxic!” Riley calls from the announce desk. “Jamie Drazon is just no match for this man!”

 

“Unfortunately, Toxxic has merely managed to get Citizen Drazon thoroughly pissed...” Comet notes. Just as the Straight-Edge Sensation turns back to face his opponent-

 

*CRACK!*

 

“WHOOO!”

 

*CRACK!*

 

“WHOOO!”

 

*CRACK!*

 

“WHOOO!”

 

-Drazon starts unleashing blistering chops at the rookie’s chest, pressing Toxxic back onto the ropes. With a feral snarl the man from Vancouver wraps his arms around Toxxic’s waist and hoists him up and sideways, drilling the Brit down into the mat with a textbook belly-to-belly suplex before springing back up to his feet and dropping a knee right into his opponent’s face.

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO DRAY-ZON!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

Toxxic again tries to roll away, but Drazon grabs him and pulls him upright once more. Before the rookie can even work out where he is the Hardcore Maniac takes a firm grip and wrenches backwards, planting him with a T-bone suplex in the middle of the ring. The fans react by cheering even louder and Drazon looks around, grinning... then spits on his opponent and heads for the nearest turnbuckle!

 

“Citizen Drazon is really fired up here!” Comet exclaims. “He’s taking it to Toxxic in a manner few have managed recently and now he’s heading up top - if he hits this, it could be over!”

 

“If, Comet,” Riley replies sounding surprisingly confident. “Drazon’s aggression has Toxxic down at the moment, but he’s got so mad he hasn’t been concentrating his offence. If he’d continued to work on the leg then Toxxic might be in trouble, but as it is,” the colour man continues as Drazon reaches the top buckle, “he’s in a perfect position...”

 

Drazon leaps off, arms spread wide as he looks for a Swandive Headbutt-

 

*WHAM!!*

 

-but only drives his head straight into Toxxic’s raised right boot!

 

“...to counter!” Riley finishes joyously. “Honestly, these Canadians are so predictable; chop, chop, suplex, suplex, diving headbutt... you won’t win any matches like that!”

 

Now it’s Drazon’s turn to roll on the canvas, even his pain threshold registering the impact of his landing, while Toxxic manages to pull himself up and catch his breath. Seeing the condition of his opponent the straight-edger dives down, seeking to get the pin...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

Kickout!

 

“RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

 

But Drazon isn’t staying down yet, and the Hardcore Maniac manages to roll a shoulder off the canvas despite the splitting pain in his head. Toxxic grows visibly annoyed with Eddy Long and starts to argue, but the official remains adamant and the rookie quickly realises that time is a-wasting so he hauls Drazon back up. With an eye to keeping the advantage Toxxic slams his forearm into the Canadian Madman’s jaw with a European Uppercut which causes Jamie to stagger backwards... but then Drazon explodes forwards!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“WHOOO!”

 

*CRACK!*

 

“WHOOO!”

 

It’s Toxxic’s turn to retreat from the attack, trying to cover his chest with his arms - but Drazon changes his angle of attack and lashes out with a boot, sending a kick cracking into the rookie’s left knee! This time the Straight-Edge Sensation cries out in pain and almost falls, but Drazon grabs him and whips him towards the far turnbuckle. The crowd hold their breath, expecting Toxxic to vault up to the top for the Role Reversal, but the Brit’s left knee isn’t up to the task and he crashes into the pads exactly as the Maniac planned. Drazon eagerly rushes in, seeking to crush the rookie...

 

*WHAM!!*

 

...but Toxxic manages to get his right boot up into the Canadian’s face again! Drazon wobbles around in a circle, eyes unfocused, and as he comes back round to face Toxxic again the rookie grabs his opponent in a 3/4 headlock before running straight up the turnbuckles and pushing off the top with his right leg! For a moment the two men are perpendicular as Toxxic’s body sails over the top of the Hardcore Maniac... then he falls down behind him, driving the back of Jamie Drazon’s head into the canvas!

 

*CRASH!!*

 

“What in the name of Zeus was that!?” Comet asks in amazement.

 

“That was the Intoxxication!” Bobby Riley chirps in delight. “And it comes as no surprise to find that Jamie Drazon has been Intoxxicated, Comet!”

 

The landing seems to have hurt Toxxic’s left knee even further, but it is the work of a moment for him to pull himself across the canvas and hook Jamie Drazon’s far leg as Eddy Long drops to count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRREEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

The guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ echo out across the Mellon Arena as Funyon raises the microphone to his lips, having to raise his voice still further to drown out the angry jeers from the Pittsburgh crowd and announce “Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner... TOXX-IIIC!!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Toxxic gets back to his feet, limping heavily on the left leg. In a couple of moment Jet is there, providing a shoulder for her boyfriend to lean on, and together the couple make their way out of the ring as the fans continue to rain catcalls down.

 

“Just face it Comet,” Riley says superciliously, “Jamie Drazon was just no match for this man. It’s almost a shame that he’s not in the same league as his fellow Number One Contender, ‘The Man’ Tom Flesher. Almost. But still, he’s a great competitor.”

 

“He is a good wrestler,” Comet sighs. “It’s just a shame he fails on all accounts as a human being... but don’t go away fans, we have plenty more action coming up after this commercial break!”

 

FADE OUT

[the.weej 0]

Andrea turns yet another corner, still on her quest to find Alexander Zenon’s office. She stops dead in her tracks at the horrific sight she’s come across. Ash Ketchum has a large quantity of painted baseballs, chasing David Blazenwing, Matthew Kivell, and Cutthroat, hurling the ‘pokeballs’ and shouting at the frightened jobbers “If I catch you, I’m going to fuck you!”

 

“You know what? Zenon can call me. Like anyone can find anything in this place. COSTANZAAAAA!!” Andrea screams and retraces her steps to the entrance. However, just as she gets there, Ted from the gym approaches her.

 

“Hey baby. Fancy seeing you here. Want to go get a sandwich? And make fun of people’s children?”

 

“How did you find me? You know what, never mind. I guess a sandwich wouldn’t hurt. Trying to find that damn office...”

 

Andrea and Ted exit the arena and walk towards the parking lot, to an empty space.

 

“Where the hell is my car? GOD DAMN IT! It was that ‘Carless’ Mark Jindrak and the fucking Repo Man! They took my car! Again!” Ted bellows.

 

“Uh, I think I’ll just go back to my hotel, actually. Bye Ted...”

 

As Andrea is walking away, Ted can be heard alternately cursing Jindrak and the Repo Man and asking Andrea if she’d like to partake in something called Para Para.

[the.weej 0]

"Boy I can't wait for this next match," begins Riley as he is already on his feet awaiting the arrival of the contestants for the next event. "And I'm sure you know why Comet."

 

"Yes. I don't see how you can pull for the obvious villians in this next match up, especially when you have great men of standards such as Ryan Dustin who went through hell with Austin Sly on Lockdown--and is now facing two potentially dangerous men in this event." exclaims Comet, seemingly calming Riley down as Riley takes a seat next to Comet. "Then there's Johnny Dangerous who is determined to ruffle Landon some way or another as.."

 

As if interrupting the Masked Commentator, a faint guitar riff of Incubus's "Megalomaniac" is heard with almost immediate boos as they echo off the sold out crowd. With the guitars of Incubus slightly playing louder and louder, drums begin to kick in as the song's pace picks up. Members of the crowd are on their feet booing and throwing various food items at the entrance way as a drink spills on the steel rampway. Cutting through all the boos comes a booming voice over the PA System..

 

"PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!"

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

Out from behind the curtains steps only one man as "Megalomaniac" picks up once again in full speed. Landon stands at the top of the rampway where he thrusts his arms out to his side as the lights return to normal and Landon turns to face the curtains. A second man is seen coming out from the curtains...and he surprisingly isn't Chris Card, but is Martin Hunt. Hunt stands beside Landon, wearing a tan cowboy hat, faded cut-off blue jean shorts, and a black shirt that exclaims very boldly in white letters "MUCH MORE MADDIX!" which brings a cocky smirk to Landon's face despite the almost deafing boos. The two walk down the ring with Landon leading as Maddix jawjacks and mimmicks fans while Martin threatens to slap a few of them as they steadily strut down to the ring.

 

"I LOVE THESE GUYS!" joyfully shouting Riley as he is back out of his seat and standing on his chair applauding the two heels as they approach the ring.

 

"Nice to see Hunt and Maddix getting along...seeing as they fought on Lockdown in that main event 10 Man Tag."

 

"...are you trying to stir something up?"

 

"As if I'd dare."

 

Funyon: "Ladies and Gentlemen, the following tag match is scheduled for one fall! Coming into the ring first, with a combined weight of 430 pounds...your current ICTV Champion......Landon "La Cucaracha" Maaaaaaaaaaaddddiiiixxxxxxxxxxx!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

Funyon: "...and his tag team partner, Martin "Big Country" Huuuuunt."

 

A roaring sound of boos are heard as Landon and Hunt both enter the ring via flipping over the top ropes to show off their high flying abilities and agilities. Ignoring the crowd Maddix then proceeds to flexing as Martin reaches in his back jean pocket and takes a sip from a concealed flask leaning in the corner staring down the entrance way.

 

"These guys are some cocky SOBs, they think they have it all.." Comet starts as he is interrupted quickly and then smiles as he realizes who is coming out next. "Now these guys are some real hereos, some real role models to look up to..."

 

"Phhffff."

 

"I'm an OUTLAW!!" "QUICK ON THE DRAW!!"

 

"Lapdance" by NERD kicks up in full effect as the crowd goes bezerk. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is on their feet cheering and rooting for the Nevadian (!?!) duo of Ryan Dustin and Johnny Dangerous as the two step out from behind the black curtains and into the spotlight that shines on them. Ryan pauses for a minute as he takes in the moment of the crowds cheers and he points to his Hardcore title, as Johnny Dangerous points out to Landon and motions a "cut-throat" taunt at him. The two walk towards the ring and shake hands with fans, pat them on the back, Dustin even signs a little kids program making sure they are widely known and loved.

 

"True American hereos, everyone here at SWF should look up to these two. They emulate greatness!"

 

"...phhffff!"

 

Funyon: "And their opponents, at a combined weight of 445 lbs, lead first by the current Hardcore Champion, he is Ryan Duuuuuuuuuustin! And his team mate...The Barracuda! Johnny Dangeroooooouuuus!"

 

"YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Dustin climbs to the outside of the turnbuckle to the top, and seizes the opportunity to pose for the crowd by sizing up his fingers in a picture frame motion as multiple flashes from cameras go off and capture his foward flip off the top to display some excitement for the fans. Johnny Dangerous in the meantime has caused his own enjoyment by climbing the other turnbuckle and throwing his arms up in the air for the fans to cheer for. Maddix and Hunt look on with sneers as they settle in and prepare for this match.

 

"So...just to clarify for everyone watching. These two teams are set for singles clashes in the near future...and the winning team here tonight get to choose stipulations for their matches. And that could mean some unpleasant situations for the losers, so there's lots to play for tonight."

 

Referee Sexton Hardcastle waits for the music to cut before checking with both teams that they're ready to being...taking the Hardcore Championship from Dustin and the ICTV Championship off of Landon, eventually...

 

*DING DING!*

 

...before quickly calling for the bell.

 

"Here we go..."

 

"Thanks Captain Obvious."

 

"It's Comet. CYCLOOOONE Comet~!"

 

Dangerous steps forward to begin the match...and sure enough, Landon gives Hunt the chance to start for his team. They circle around one another, sizing the other up as Martin motions for a "mercy" hand-lock. Dangerous goes in and locks up one hand with Martin before getting eye raked by Martin's free hand. Dangerous grabs his eyes in pain as Martin points and laughs at Johnny's misfortune and gets an even louder sound of boos. Hunt grabs the momentarily blind Johnny and picks him up in a quick scoop slam that is immediately followed by a fierce jumping knee drop to the chest. Johnny bounces off the ring with the momentum and feels the air sucked out of him briefly...before jumping back to his feet and connecting with Martin's jaw...

 

WHACK!

 

...with a karate kick that knocks Martin stumbling back, slightly holding his jaw from the impact. Martin lunges back towards Johnny and the two engage in a strong looking grapple that is almost dead-locked between the two before Martin brings a knee up into Johnny's chest causing him to lose focus on the hold. Martin feeling an advatage, slings Johnny into the ropes and slightly runs behind him only to catch Johnny with a destroying clothesline to the back of the head sending Dangerous flying to the outside of the ring, over the ropes and sailing down to the cement ring floor as a loud thud is heard.

 

"Oh my! What a devastating move we just witnessed at the hands of Hunt!"

 

"Brilliant. Landon's really got this guy motivated."

 

With a smile, Martin tags in the also smiling Maddix as the two both go outside the ring and begin their assault on Johnny Dangerous. Dustin starts to complain to Hardcastle, distracting him while Hunt picks up Johnny and holds his arms back as Landon runs in and connects with a powerful haymaker that levels Dangerous!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

Hunt climbs back up on the apron as Landon grabs up the groggy Johnny and throws him back into the ring, before rolling into the ring himself. Johnny begins crawling towards his corner to make a tag but is intercepted by a big right footed kick to the temple as Landon looks down with a smirk at Dangerous.

 

"LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS!"

 

"This crowd are really getting on Maddix's case here." points out Comet.

 

Landon picks up Johnny and sends him back down to the mat with a swinging neck-breaker. Landon rolls over and sits on one leg as he flexes to the booing crowd before dragging Johnny by the leg back to the center of the ring. As Johnny's laying down, Landon bounces off the ropes and gets spectactular elevation before crushing Johnny's forehead with a "dangerous kneedrop" that is executed with such force and momentum that Landon rolls through with the move. As he does though, Ryan Dustin enters the ring and promptly clotheslines Maddix down to the canvas!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Hardcastle rushes over to escort Dustin out of the ring. And in the meantime, Hunt sneaks into the ring just as Johnny gets back to his feet, spinning The Barracuda around and nailing a clothesline of his own!

 

"A pair of clotheslines and now we're even stevens."

 

"Plus, what makes it better is Dustin hit the first shot, so you can't spout off your obnoxious superheroic drivel!"

 

"...do I really annoy you that much?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"...excellent."

 

Hunt exits the ring, and now both Landon and Johnny are down. Maddix is up first, relatively quickly. Meanwhile, Johnny remains down, giving Maddix time to back off the ropes and hit a second "dangerous kneedrop". This one seems to land much lower on Johnny's face, and the effects show as Johnny immediately clutches his nose in pain and squirms on the mat. Eventually, Landon drops to the side of Johnny and makes a cocky cover...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW...

 

 

Kickout from Johnny, but he immediately goes back to tending to his nasal region.

 

"Johnny seems pretty worried about his face, considering..." sneers Riley.

 

"Considering what?"

 

"Does the word 'fugly' mean anything to you?"

 

"Surprisingly, no."

 

Maddix takes a look at Johnny at his discomfort, deciding he can afford to take a powder and tagging Hunt in. Eager to impress, Hunt enters quickly and jogs over to Johnny before dropping an elbow to the chest. Quickly Hunt hits a second and gets to his feet, but his efforts don't impress Maddix who yells at Hunt to concentrate on the face. Unlike most college students (damn slackers), Hunt seems willing to learn and does as he's told, turning back to Johnny and booting him in the face. Johnny moans in pain, as Hunt hits another couple of kicks before Hardcastle steps in.

 

"Hardcastle may need to check on Citizen Dangerous' condition." says Comet worriedly. "He looks to be in serious pain here."

 

"Ah, he's a drama queen..."

 

Hunt does eventually move back...but not for long, pushing right past Hardcastle and stomping Johnny in the face again. So again the referee moves Hunt back, until Maddix slaps 'Big Country' on the back to tag himself in. And with his radar honed in on the face of Dangerous, Maddix scampers into the ring and lays in some boots of his own.

 

"LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS!"

 

The crowd's chants don't bother Maddix as he continues his assault, until Hardcastle again steps in to move Maddix back and try to check on Dangerous. Surprisingly, Maddix does back off, into a neutral corner. But while he's there and Hardcastle is checking on Johnny, Maddix sneakily turns out to the crowd and begins to pull off the top turnbuckle pad!

 

"Oh no...Citizen Maddix is attempting to expose that steel turnbuckle, which means much villianry is afoot!"

 

The crowd boo wildly and Dustin tries to tell Hardcastle what happened, but neither succeeds as Hardcastle steps away from Johnny. Quickly Maddix moves in and pulls Johnny up

 

*SMACK!*

 

...giving him a hard slap across the face!

 

Johnny doesn't retaliate, so Maddix hits another, more playful slap...before lining Johnny up and SMASHING him with a stiff forearm. Down to his knees drops Johnny, getting pulled right back up for a second forearm and then a third. Slowly a trickle of blood begins to run from Johnny's nose and down the side of his lip, as Landon takes a step back and jabs Johnny right across the nose. Dangerous is wobbling now, as Maddix hits a couple more snap jabs before backing off the ropes. Suddenly Johnny reacts, dropping to the mat...but instead of leaping over the road-block, Landon stops and legdrops it, driving Johnny's face into the mat again!

 

"Johnny is taking a beating here." says a worried Comet. "Things don't look too good for The Barracuda currently."

 

"And there's plenty more where this came from..."

 

Rolling up to his feet, Maddix looks down at Dangerous with destain and tags back out to Hunt. Dustin can only watch on from his corner, as Hunt pulls Johnny up and hits a right hand. Weakly Johnny swings with one back, but takes a knee to the gut and gets thrown into the corner. Hunt follows in and nails a big clothesline. Out staggers Johnny, getting scooped and slammed by Hunt who quickly climbs up to the middle rope. But as he gets there, Dustin charges across the apron and clotheslines Hunt, sending him tumbling over the ropes and to the floor!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

 

"Hey! That's not right. C'mon Comet..."

 

"What?"

 

"You're Mr Justice around here. Show Dustin some justice or...whatever crap you do."

 

Hunt hits the floor hard, as Johnny recovers and begins to crawl over to his corner. Landon sees him doing so though and enters the ring, grabbing Dangerous by the heel. In steps Dustin again, as Hardcastle has to push Landon back to the corner before doing the same to Dustin. But as he does so, Landon steps right back to grab Dangerous. Dustin inadvertantly keeps the ref tied up, as Maddix spins Johnny around and nails a boot to the gut and a lightning-quick DDT!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

With the damage done, Maddix scoots out of the ring as Hunt re-enters. Hardcastle meanwhile has Dustin restrained and out of the ring. Hunt meanwhile looks to go back to the middle rope, to complete the move he was planning earlier. Once he's there though, Landon starts yelling over again, telling Hunt to get on Dangerous and make a cover. Confused, but obeying, Hunt steps off the ropes and walks over to Johnny, making the cover...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

KICKOUT!

 

Maddix sighs and shakes his head, as Hunt angrily drives his forearm into the face of Dangerous and begins to grind away...

 

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"FO..."

 

Hunt breaks on four, before turning to Landon for approval...

 

*SLAP!*

 

...and promptly getting tagged out again!

 

"I don't think Hunt is living up to our ICTV Champion's high standards at the moment." points out Riley.

 

"Not in his mind anyway."

 

Maddix steps into the ring, motioning for Hunt to step aside and let him do the work, which he does. Johnny has gotten to his feet by now but is too hurt to attack, leaving him open for a dropkick from Maddix. The force sends Dangerous back into the ropes, as Maddix moves in and irish whips Johnny across the ring. Bouncing off the ropes, Johnny tries to come back with a clothesline, but Landon easily ducks...using Dangerous' out-stretched arm to whip around The Barracuda's back with a Nose Job DDT and quickly make a cover...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

...Dustin breaks the count.

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

 

Hardcastle is again forced to restrain Dustin, as Maddix wraps on a front facelock to Johnny. Hauling up the number one contender to his belt, Maddix maneuvers Johnny over to the corner and tags Hunt back in. Quickly Hunt enters the drives a punch to the side of Dangerous, as Landon releases Johnny and allows Hunt to drive a right hand to the jaw.

 

"Johnny needs to tag out here, because Hunt and Maddix are wearing him out."

 

Johnny stumbles back into the ropes again and takes a knee from Hunt. A second hits before Hunt spins Johnny around, and starts to choke him across the top rope, causing Hardcastle to start another count...

 

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"FI..."

 

Hunt breaks and spins away towards Dustin, spitting at the Hardcore Champion to lure him into the ring. And while Hardcastle is once again distracted, Maddix strolls over and continues the choke on Johnny!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

Eventually Hardcastle starts to regain control...just as Maddix releases the choke and hits a European uppercut that sends Johnny crashing away from the ropes and into the center of the ring. Hunt turns back around and strolls over to Johnny, with a stomp to the face. Yet again though, Hunt is stopped in his tracks by directions from Maddix who wants in...

 

*SLAP!*

 

...and gets in, courtesy of a slightly frustrated tag.

 

"Great teamwork from Team Maddix." points out Riley. "This kid is a born leader."

 

"Which is why he's been the sidekick his whole career to Todd Royal, Chris Card...John Duran, Va'aiga..."

 

"Ok, we get the point."

 

Maddix leaps theatrically over the top rope and lines up Johnny's head from a quick elbow drop. Again Johnny checks on his nose which still has a trickle of blood flowing from it, as Landon strolls past Dangerous nochalantly to the ropes. Hitting them, Landon finally charges back and looks for another "dangerous kneedrop"...

 

 

...but Dangerous moves!

 

"YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Maddix hits nothing but canvas, still rolling through but feeling the effects. Johnny pulls himself back up as Landon gets to his feet, and quickly dives feet-first forward with a basement dropkick to Maddix's knee, taking him high up into the air!

 

"Johnny's fighting back!"

 

"Yeah, but he hasn't got his kickstand Wildchild in the corner like he used to. He's just got Ryan Dustin."

 

Johnny is still looking a little dis-orientated but gets to his feet, trying to locate his corner. As he does, Martin Hunt quickly steps into the ring and clotheslines Johnny from behind before scooting right back out! Dustin once again starts to complain to Hardcastle, who does little more than give Hunt a warning. Meanwhile Landon is back up, limping a touch but not enough to stop him grabbing Dangerous. A hard forearm drives Dangerous into the corner, where again the tag is made and Hunt steps in.

 

"LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS! LANDON SUCKS!"

 

Both Maddix and Hunt grab an arm of Johnny's and look to whip him across the ring...but at the last second, pull him back and send him spine first into the turnbuckles! Johnny staggers out and to the mat, as Landon reacts to the chants with an angry look towards the fans. Hunt meanwhile is right on Johnny, mounting the Barracuda and pounding the back of his head with forearm drives.

 

"WHO-HA!!!"

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

Unhappy at the reaction to his 'battle-cry', Hunt flips off a section of the crowd before grabbing Johnny up from the mat. No sooner has he done so though, Landon slaps him on the back to tag himself in, before telling Hunt to 'hold him'.

 

"More teamwork, coming up..."

 

Hunt does so begrudgingly, as Maddix springs over the top rope and lands a punch over the head of The Barracuda, knocking him to the canvas.

 

"Beautiful."

 

"Citizen Maddix seems to be directing traffic rather competently, considering he's a lackey."

 

"He's no lackey. He's the ICTV Champion!"

 

"So was the Insane Luchador..."

 

"...Touché."

 

With Dangerous down, Maddix has the time to hold his hands to the side and soak up the jeers of the crowd, before booting Johnny across the bridge of his injured nose again. Not one to give up, Dangerous fights back to his feet again. But he quickly takes a snap jab from Landon, before getting pulled into the ICTV Champion's body and thrown with a textbook exploder suplex! Seeing his chance to win, Maddix scurries over and makes a cover...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

"YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

The suplex didn't get the pin...so back to the face Maddix goes, mounting Dangerous and pounding his facial area with punch after punch until Hardcastle starts another count...

 

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THR..."

 

Maddix quickly breaks away from Dangerous, holding his hands up in mock innocence. Johnny meanwhile is once again crawling towards his Hardcore Champion partner, as he has done plenty of times in the past. He doesn't get to the corner however, as Maddix grabs Johnny by the heel and again drags Dangerous into the center of the ring.

 

"This is a rather different Citizen Maddix we're seeing here. More slow and deliberate than usual..."

 

"That's because he's trying to pick Dangerous apart. This isn't just about the title Comet. This is personal between these two."

 

Turning onto his back, Johnny places his feet into Landon's gut and pushes him back. Maddix hits the ropes, bouncing back as Johnny gets to his feet and tries to hiptoss Landon over. The ICTV Champion twists in mid-air though to land on his feet, before forearming Johnny in the jaw and setting him up for a DDT...

 

 

...but Johnny twists out the back and goes for the M.I Slam...

 

 

 

 

...which Landon counters with a swift jab to the face!

 

"ooohhhhhhhh!"

 

Johnny clutches his face again, as Maddix lands safely on the mat and tumbles instantly forward with a Koppu Kick. Johnny sees it coming though and takes a lunging step backwards, causing Maddix to harmlessly tumble at his feet. Quickly Landon drags himself up and looks around for Johnny, who has gotten out of Maddix's range...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

...TO HIT A JOHNNY KICK!!!

 

"Oh, what a SHOT~ from Operative Dangerous!"

 

"...crap!"

 

Maddix is down and seemingly out, where-as for all the punishment he's taken Johnny still has enough to stagger over to his corner...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

 

...AND TAG IN RYAN DUSTIN!!!

 

"And FINALLY, here comes the SWF's Hardcore Champion! And listen to this crowd!"

 

Seeing the danger, Hunt steps in simultaneously with Dustin. It's Hunt that takes the first charge, but runs straight into the raised feet of a dropkicking Dustin! Quickly Hunt rolls from the ring, and for some reason Dustin follows him...leaving Dangerous to deal with Maddix, who has found his feet but has no idea where he is.

 

"See! Johnny made the tag, but where-as Wildchild would do all of his work, Dustin is too busy with his own priorities."

 

"Would you cease with this? Johnny Dangerous is his own man."

 

"And as his own man, he sucks!"

 

Grabbing the ICTV Champion by the shoulder, Johnny spins Landon around and nails a series of quick kicks to the gut. Six or seven connect, rocking Maddix back into the corner. But quickly Maddix snaps forward, wiping Johnny out with a desperation clothesline. The Barracuda crashes to the mat, as Landon is already on the move, scooting up to the top rope as fast as possible.

 

On the outside meanwhile, the Hardcore Champion and #1 Contender are brawling on the outside typically, with Dustin lining Hunt up and clotheslining him over the railings and into the rabid crowd.

 

Back in the ring, Maddix has reached the top and is now waiting for Johnny to turn around before coming off the top for a Flying DDT. Johnny reads the move however, and counters by dropping Maddix across the knee with an inverted atomic drop!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

With his eyes watering in an instant, Maddix doubles over and holds his coccyx as Johnny grabs him by the arm and looks for an irish whip. Landon manages to put the brakes on however, pulling Johnny in and backdropping him over...but Johnny manages to counter with a sunset flip...

 

 

...but he's not the legal man, so Hardcastle won't make the count.

 

"Aw...what a horrible break for Johnny." sneers Riley.

 

"Oh please, stop, my Cyclonic Sarcasm detector can only take so much."

 

"Physchotic who?"

 

Johnny angrily pushes Maddix away, dragging himself to his feet and arguing with Hardcastle. Landon meanwhile is back up, kicking Johnny in the base of the spine and setting him up ready for the Landon Eye. As he does so though, Ryan Dustin has climbed back onto the apron and is now on the top rope. Maddix throws Dangerous to the side and starts after Dustin, just as The Real Deal dives off the top and takes Landon down with a flying hurricanrana that pops the crowd like a cherry shaped balloon. Groggily Maddix gets right back up, getting caught with a small package by Dustin...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH..

 

NOLANDONKICKSOUT!

 

Both Dustin and Maddix get back up, with Ryan nailing a European uppercut...

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOO!!!"

 

...before taking a knifedge chop from Maddix. Dustin nails a second European uppercut...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOO!!!"

 

...but takes another chop. So Dustin instead hits a sharp kick across Maddix's right kneecap. Maddix drops his knee, as Dustin grabs him by the arm and sends Landon across the ring. Maddix bounces off the ropes and Dustin leaps in the air for a hurricanrana. But Maddix falls to the mat, as does Dustin.

 

"Wha..."

 

"Hunt!"

 

"Excuse me!?!"

 

"Hunt tripped Maddix!" gasps Riley. "I don't know whever to laugh or hurl something sharp and heavy, but Hunt tripped Maddix."

 

Quickly Hunt rolls into the ring and goes after Dustin with a series of stomps. Meanwhile, Maddix pulls himself up and shakes off the effects of his fall, before storming over to Hunt and spinning him around...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

...AND SLAPPING HIS PARTNER IN THE FACE!!!

 

"OOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!"

 

"And it seems this fragile team is about to break for good!" beams Comet.

 

Hunt can hardly believe what happened...and even less, can believe the verbal beration he's recieiving at the hands of the ICTV Champion. But still, Maddix continues to yell at Hunt...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

...UNTIL HUNT SLAPS HIM BACK!!!

 

"What the hell is happening!?!" wails Riley.

 

Hunt and Maddix look all set to square off...just as Johnny Dangerous launches back into the ring, and wipes them both out with a springboard double clothesline!

 

"YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Landon stays down, but Hunt is back up. Shaking off some pain in his head, Johnny lines up Hunt and charges forward, crossbodying him...causing both he and Hunt to tumble over the top rope, and dangerously to the floor!

 

Meanwhile, Dustin is back up and encouraging Maddix to join him. Slowly Maddix begins to do so, as Dustin pats his thigh signalling for the Done Deal. Maddix reaches his feet and Dustin charges forward, just as Landon swings out with some Sweet Disciple Music...

 

 

...but Dustin ducks it, and goes for the Done Deal...

 

 

 

 

...which Landon ducks, before catching the dis-orientated Real Deal with a roll-up...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

MADDIX GRABS THE TIGHTS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

"NO! KICK OUT!" Comet wails...

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOONLY!!!

 

 

"YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Maddix looks stunned, glaring at Hardcastle as he gets back to his feet and grabs Dustin. The Hardcore Champion quickly pushes the ICTV Champ off though, sending him back a step...

 

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

...far enough to nail the Done Deal!

 

"He caught him!" gasps Comet. "But Citizen Dustin is not going for a pinfall!"

 

"Well, thank God he's an idiot...otherwise, it would no doubt have been a close two count."

 

With the buzz of the crowd in his ears, Dustin decides that it's not time to make the pinfall just yet and climbs out to the apron. All around him, the fans begin to rise to their feet as Dustin looks set to fly...but before he can, Martin Hunt grabs him by the ankle. Quickly Dustin tries to kick him off and succeeds, sending Hunt back into a Johnny Kick from Dangerous! Meanwhile, Ryan now has the time to leap into the ring for the Double Jump Moonsault...

 

 

 

...which Maddix avoids!

 

"OOOOOOHHHHHHH!!"

 

"YES!"

 

"The delay was enough for Citizen Maddix, and he moved out of the way!"

 

Dustin winds up on his knees, winded and holding his gut. Suddenly, Maddix brushes past him and hits the ropes, coming back and nailing a shining wizard that almost takes Dustin's head off of his shoulders! And just for good measure, Maddix hooks up Dustin's leg as he goes over, cradling him up for the pin...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

"YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Again, Maddix is in disbelief and takes his concerns up with referee Hardcastle.

 

"What resiliance from Ryan Dustin!"

 

"What shoddy officiating from Hardcastle! That should have been three!"

 

Slowly Dustin is getting back up, and Maddix sees him...meeting him with a boot to the gut and a couple of right hands. They only succeed in firing The Real Deal up though, as he nails a succession of punches in his own right...each one rocking Maddix away from the ropes towards the center of the ring. Eventually Landon gets the chance to swing with one of his own, but it gets blocked and countered with an irish whip. However, Maddix manages to counter that and irish whip Dustin forward towards the corner...

 

 

*CHINK!*

 

 

...and sternum-first into an exposed steel turnbuckle!!!

 

"Oh...wait, Dustin hit...that was the exposed steel from earlier!"

 

"Well, it was obviously unintentional."

 

"It was Maddix who pulled the pad off in the first place! That's intent enough for me!"

 

Neither Dangerous or Hunt have noticed what happened, too busy with their own squarrel which is being fought right by the steel barricade. Maddix has noticed though, not wasting a second in scooting past Dustin and hopping to the middle rope. Slowly Dustin turns around with a little help from Maddix, and gets his head locked over Maddix's shoulder. Still stunned and winded from hitting the turnbuckle, Dustin is easy prey as Maddix launces off the ropes and swings himself and opponent around...

 

 

...with the Crash Landon, driving Dustin's face and chest into the canvas!!!

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Crash Landon! Crash Landon! Mayday, mayday...we have a Crash Land..."

 

"Hush you!"

 

Dustin is all but out...as Maddix checks to see where Johnny is, before cradling Dustin up for the cover...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

TH...

 

 

 

 

 

RREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

As soon as the bell rings, Johnny finally realises his partner's troubles and dives into the ring...mere seconds too late, as Maddix has already scurried out of the ring and is ordering for his belt to be delivered to him.

 

 

"Here are your winners of the match... Martin Hunt and the ICTV CHAMPION...LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MAAAADDDIIIXXX!!!"

 

"With the help of an exposed steel turnbuckle!" whines Comet.

 

"Who cares! Maddix wins, and now he and Hunt can choose any stipulation they want for their upcoming matches with the LOSERS~! of this match! If I were Johnny Dangerous, I'd be real worried right now!"

 

With his belt finally in his hands, Maddix scampers off up the ramp, pausing briefly to turn and raise the belt for Johnny's benefit. Meanwhile, Hunt can't help but smile too knowing what victory means, despite the falling out with his partner. Johnny meanwhile is seething, trying to explain proceedings to himself and, being the spy that he is, Hardcastle by pointing out the turnbuckle. But the result will stand, and that's all that matters to Maddix as he disappears through the curtain.

 

"Join us after the break for more SWF action!" beams Comet.

 

"...this seems rather a rushed ending."

 

"Yes, it does qu..."

 

 

 

 

-COMMERCIAL BREAK-

[the.weej 0]

SWF Smarkdown comes back from commercial with a bang, the cameras going right into a wide shot of the jam packed Mellon Arena the SWF fans buzzing with excitement as the show continues. The camera cuts to a sweeping view taking in the faces and waving signs of the crowd as the fans eagerly await the next match of the show. The cameras finally cut back to the announcer’s table revealing the spandex clad Cyclone Comet and his cynical partner Bobby Riley, ready as always to call the action.

 

“Good evening everyone and welcome back to SWF SMARKDOWN! It’s been a great night so far and it’s fixing to get even better!” Cries Comet enthusiastically.

 

“Yes indeed, and it’ll be even better at the end of the night when Janus destroys those upstarts the Wayward Sons!” Riley states, lounging back in his chair and looking thoroughly bored as he waits for the next match to start.

 

“A bold prediction Citizen Riley but Citizen Janus is still up against two separate men!”

 

“Two men who are half his size Comet.” Sneers Riley.

 

“But like true heroes Citizens Clark and James are not ones to give up in the face of impossible odds!” Comet states confidently.

 

“There you go again with those needless embellishments of yours. Aren’t you getting tired of being wrong?” Riley says with a smirk.

 

“Sometimes yes…bu…”

 

Comet’s reply is cut off as Prong’s “Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck” hits the speakers, the arena lights dimming as multi coloured strobe lights flicker across the arena, the song warring with the rising boos of the fans as the first participant makes his entrance. The boos and jeers of the fans only intensify as Manson emerges from the entranceway, striding purposefully down the ramp ignoring the fans and keeping his gaze focused on the ring.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen! The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first! Weighing 230lbs! And hailing from Denver, Colorado! HE IS MANSON!!!!!!!”

 

The boos of the fans escalate as Funyon announces Manson, the former Hate Machine rolling into the ring and pushing himself back to his feet before heading to his corner, gaze coming to rest on the entranceway as he waits for his opponent.

 

Manson doesn’t have long to wait however as the arena lights suddenly change from blazing brightness into a maelstrom of dark blue lights, some remaining fully on while others strobe, bathing the arena in a deep blue gloom. Dimmu Borgir’s “Mourning Palace” hits the speakers as a huge cloud of smoke belches from the entrance way covering the stage in its misty coils as three separate light blue spotlights snap onto the figure emerging from the mist the sight of this dim shape already drawing cheers from the fans.

 

Vlad pauses on the stage for a moment, masked head turning slowly from left to right as he takes in the masses that surround him before he begins to stride calmly down the aisle as Funyon raises his microphone once more.

 

“And his opponent! Making his SWF debut! He hails from Svalbard, Norway! And weighs in at 245lbs! THE CORONA! VLADIMIR EVERHEART!”

 

When he finally reaches ringside Vlad leaps up onto the apron, grabbing the top rope and vaulting over it and into the ring. The masked superstar moves to stand in the centre of the ring the rest of the arena lights going to black as the three spotlights illuminate him in the blackness. Vlad drops down to one knee in that circle of light bowing deeply, his arms spread to either side of his body as the action milks another wave of cheers from the fans. The music finally fades away and the arena lights come back up, the rookie gazing levelly at the veteran in front of him.

 

“And the newest member of the SWF is certainly getting a warm reception from the fans here in Pittsburgh!”

 

“What do you know about this guy Comet?”

 

“Very little Robert, I know he has been working the independent feds in the US for about a year and before that he was building a reputation in Norway. He participated in some off air matches a few weeks ago and impressed the right people as he was offered a contract shortly afterwards.”

 

“You forgot he’s also another person afraid to show their face, hiding behind that mask of his.”

 

“Like the Masked Man Robert?” Comet says, with just a hint of smugness.

 

The two men continue to stare at one another, Manson slowly stepping out of his corner as he sizes up this newcomer, referee Eddy long stepping between the two for a moment before he quickly signals to the Time Keeper to start the match.

 

 

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

 

 

Neither man moves as the pealing off the bell dissipates into the arena, both men continuing their stare down before finally Vlad extends his right hand towards his opponent in a gesture of respect.

 

“What the hell is this?” Riley says, his voice heavy with disgust.

 

“Citizen Everheart is clearly trying to show his respect for his opponent Robert. Is it not obvious?”

 

Manson looks down at the proffered hand and then back up at Vlad, the former Hate Machine smiles his own right hand moving as well but rather than shaking the proffered hand he merely slaps “The Corona” contemptuously across the face.

 

“Ha! There’s respect for you Comet!” Riley says gleefully as Vlad’s mask clad head snaps to one side.

 

But Riley’s celebrations are a little premature as hardly missing a beat Vlad’s own hand whips up and cracks across the face of Manson if anything making a louder sound as flesh meets flesh.

 

“And there’s a receipt for the dastardly Manson Robert!”

 

Now its Manson’s head that snaps to one side before whipping back to glare at his masked opponent and without further pause both men lunge at one another, slamming together into a collar and elbow tie up. The two men are evenly matches in strength as they strain against one another but its Manson who gets the better of the opening exchange, breaking the tie up and quickly trapping Vlad’s head with a Side Headlock.

 

“Citizen Manson already trying to take control…”

 

Manson smiles thinly as he applies a little more pressure, cinching the headlock a little tighter, showing his masked opponent who is in charge. Vlad, unable to break the headlock quickly pushes Manson backwards all the way into the ropes, finally breaking free as he shoots his opponent off across the ring. Manson rebounds off of the ropes, his right arm hitting nothing but air as Vlad ducks under a Lariat, the Corona spinning on the spot as the former Hate Machine bounces off the ropes once again taking his opponent off of his feet and down to the mat with a swift Armdrag.

 

“…and Citizen Everheart is already trying to wrest it back!”

 

Scrambling back up to his feet Manson charges his opponent once again, only to go head over heels as Vlad plants him back to the mat with a Japanese Armdrag, quickly following it up with a second as Manson comes at him once again. As the former Hate Machine is getting to his feet for a forth time he’s met with a pair of boots to the face as Vlad knocks him back down with a textbook dropkick. Manson hits the deck once more and rolls out of the ring, finding his feet on the outside and glaring up at Vlad as the crowd pops once more for the youngster.

 

“It looks as if Citizen Manson has underestimated his opponent tonight Robert!”

 

“Watch and learn Comet, Manson won’t make the same mistake twice.”

 

Vlad gestures for the former Hate Machine to get back into the ring, and an irritated Manson is only to happy to oblige, sliding back into the ring and surging back up to his feet slamming against Vlad in a second collar and elbow tie up. Manson once again breaks the tie up to slap a Side Headlock onto his opponent, just as Vlad once again heads for the ropes and shoots Manson off a second time.

 

This time however Manson grabs the free arm of the Corona, twisting his body around and yanking hard on the limb, pulling Vlad straight into a Short Arm Clothesline and dropping him to the canvas like a sack of spuds.

 

“Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me Comet.” Riley says smugly.

 

Grabbing Vlad by his masked head Manson pulls him back up to his feet, the former Hate Machine sending his opponent staggering back with a flurry of hard punches, driving him all the way back to the ropes. Pressing the attack Manson quickly grabs an arm and Irish Whips Vlad across the ring, meeting the Corona half way with a swift knee to the gut, driving the hard metal of his knee brace into his opponents midriff and flipping the masked wrestler head over heels with a Kitchen Sink.

 

Vlad hits the canvas hard, the momentum pushing him up into a sitting position and leaving him wide open for Manson who kicks him squarely in the back of the head. As Vlad’s hands go to his head the former Hate Machine picks him up again, lighting up the youngster’s chest with a savage Knifedge Chop that draws the usual “Wooooooo!” from the fans. Vlad reels as Manson chops another Knifedge into his chest before striking back with one of his own, and another, and another after that, slicing his hand into the chest of the former Hate Machine before Manson stops the Corona in his tracks with a quick eye rake.

 

“Citizen Everheart trying to go back on the offensive.”

 

“But Manson’s playing it smart with a thumb in the eye, if your opponent can’t see you he can’t stop you either.”

 

Riley’s words are proved to be entirely truthful, as Vlad’s momentary loss of vision is more than enough of an opening for Manson to boot the Corona solidly in the gut and then spike him headfirst into the canvas with a DDT. The former Hate Machine quickly rolls his opponent onto his back and hooks a leg as Eddy Long drops down to count the fall.

 

 

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

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

TW………

 

 

Though down Vlad is nowhere near out as his right shoulder shoots off of the canvas a moment before Long slaps the canvas for two, the kickout doesn’t bother Manson in the slightest as it gives him an opportunity to inflict more punishment on the debuting Vlad. Getting back to his feet Manson once again pulls Vlad up with him cracking another punch into that masked head before he threads his right arm under his opponents trying for, and getting an STO that slams the back of the Corona’s head into the canvas. Not one to miss an opportunity the former Hate Machine quickly covers his downed opponent once more.

 

 

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

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

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

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

NO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Vlad kicks out swiftly after two and is swiftly rewarded by Manson with several hefty stomps to the head and chest as the former Hate Machine tries to wear down his opponent, finally picking him back up and shooting him across the ring once again. This time however Vlad’s speed gives him the edge he needs to get the better of his opponent as he drops under Manson’s questing arms and dropkicks the former Hate Machine squarely in his bad knee.

 

“Citizen Everheart has done his homework on his opponent! He has found a chink in Citizen Manson’s armour Robert!” Comet states as Manson collapses to the canvas, one hand clutching at the knee brace as he tries to force himself back up to his feet.

 

“Typical of a young wrestler, beating on an injured man!”

 

“How can you say that when Citizen Manson would do the same were the tables turned Robert?!””

 

But Riley doesn’t reply as now its Vlad’s turn to pull Manson off of the mat, cracking a swift Palm Strike into the temple of the former Hate Machine to keep him off balance long enough to seize his damaged right leg. Grabbing the leg with one hand and wrapping the other around Manson’s waist Vlad executes a quick Shin Breaker on the former Hate Machine before taking a step backwards holding the injured limb out in front of his opponent. Before Manson can stop him Vlad twists the knee joint the wrong way once again, this time with a quick Dragon Screw Legwhip, taking his opponent down to the canvas once again and making him clutch at the brace once more.

 

Still keeping hold of the leg, Vlad rolls Manson over onto his front, changing his own stance to sit down on the back of the former Hate Machine as he locks in a Half Boston Crab on his downed opponent.

 

“And Citizen Everheart really starting to go to work on that injured knee!”

 

“Manson won’t give up so easily Comet. Injured knee or not he isn’t going to let Vlad finish this without a struggle.”

 

Manson grits his teeth against the pain as Vlad cinches the Half Crab a little tighter, the former Hate Machine battling through the pain roaring through his right knee as he slowly begins to drag himself towards the ropes. Inch by painful inch Manson gets closer and closer to his goal, fighting off the rising agony as his finger touch and then firmly grab the bottom rope, Vlad quickly releasing the hold at Eddy Long’s order.

 

“What did I tell you Comet? He’s not going to give up that easily.”

 

“Maybe so Robert but Citizen Manson is not out of the woods yet!”

 

Indeed he isn’t as Vlad grabs the right leg of the Hate Machine and drags him back towards the centre of the ring. Gripping the ankle tightly, the Corona physically lifts Manson’s lower body off of the ground before sending his knee crashing back into the canvas with a Knee Smash before once again locking on the Half Boston Crab. Agony etches itself onto the face of the former Hate Machine but he ruthlessly bites down on the cries of pain that desperately want to surface, dragging himself slowly towards the ropes once more.

 

“It’s going to take more than a couple of Boston Crab’s to stop Manson Comet!” Riley states confidently as Manson continues to slowly drag himself and Vlad towards the ropes, eventually grabbing the bottom rope once again. Vlad once more obediently releases the hold but this time steps back as Manson uses the ropes of the nearby corner to slowly pull himself back up to his feet.

 

Vlad backs up across the ring, watching his opponent before he charges headlong at the former Hate Machine, right hand coming up for a vicious Running Palm Strike in the corner. Manson has other ideas however, the former Hate Machine spotting the charge and dodging out of the way at the last possible second leaving Vlad to crash chest first into the corner making the ring shake with the impact. Vlad staggers back out of the corner and right into the waiting arms of his opponent, Manson traps the Corona’s arms in a Full Nelson before heaving him backwards and spiking his head and neck with a Dragon Suplex! Manson quickly arches his body up into a bridge, despite the screaming pain in his injured leg as Eddy Long counts the pinfall once again.

 

 

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

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

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

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

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

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

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

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

At the last possible instant Vlad’s right shoulder clears the canvas, Eddy Long thrusting 2 fingers into the air towards the time keeper as the Corona flops back down to the mat as Manson release him.

 

“And Citizen Everheart just barely escapes the Dragon Suplex! How close was that Robert!”

 

“Almost too close to call Comet, and now Manson needs to capitalise on this quickly. He’s got Vlad shaken now he needs to finish him off!”

 

Slowly and painfully, Manson pulls Vlad back up to his feet once again, even now still managing to deliver a solid kick to the gut before he turns and slaps on a ¾ Facelock, ready to drop his opponent for good with the Diamond Cutter.

 

“Here we go Comet! Its time to face the Consequences!”

 

Even with his brains rattled by the Dragon Suplex Vlad has enough wits about to know what is about to happen and plants both hands against Manson’s back, firmly shoving the former Hate Machine off of him and into the nearby ropes. Manson bounces off of the rope and takes one limping step back towards Vlad before the Corona pounces, trapping his right leg and tripping him with a Drop Toe Hold. As soon as Manson hits the canvas Vlad is on top of him, keeping the former hate Machine’s right leg trapped from the drop toe hold he quickly applies a Face Lock, trapping his opponent in an STF. But the Corona isn’t finished there as he rolls over onto his back, taking Manson with him and increasing the pressure on both his opponents damaged knee and his neck.

 

“Arctic Circle! Citizen Everheart has Citizen Manson trapped in the Arctic Circle!”

 

“No! It can’t end like this! Come on Manson you broke 2 of his submission holds before this, you can break this one!”

 

Manson struggles in Vlad’s iron grip, breath hissing between gritted teeth as both his neck and his knee are assaulted by the Reverse STF he now finds himself in. To his credit Manson still refuses to cry out even though his agony his great, searching for some means of escape as Eddy Long continually asks him if he wants to give it up. The cheering of the fans fills the ears of both men and Vlad merely tightens his grip, the hold steadily putting more and more pressure on that injured knee giving Manson the choice of further damage to the limb or the chance to fight another day.

 

Eventually Manson does the only thing he can.

 

He gives up…

 

 

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

 

 

The fans explode into cheers once again as Vlad finally releases the hold, pushing Manson off of him and slowly sitting up as Funyon raises his mic once more.

 

“The winner of the match by submission! THE CORONA! VLAD EVERHEART!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“I don’t believe this Comet!”

 

“What’s not to believe Robert? Citizen Manson had the unenviable choice between giving in to Citizen Everheart or simply having more damage inflicted on his knee.”

 

“He won’t be so lucky the next time he comes up against Manson Comet. You mark my words on that, now Manson knows what Vlad can throw at him he’ll have another plan of attack when they next meet.”

 

Vlad pushes himself back up to his feet and Eddy Long raises his right hand to the mounting cheers of the fans as Dimmu Borgir’s “Mourning Palace” hits the arena speakers once again. The Corona looks out at the masses cheering for him and raises his arms once more in salute before he slowly moves to the ropes, stepping out onto the apron and then down to the floor itself.

 

Vlad slowly begins to make his way up the ramp, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, tender from the hard knocks it received in the match but still finding time to slap the hands of some of the fans along the aisle. The Corona pauses briefly when he reaches the stage, turning to thrust his arms into the air once again milking one more cheer from the fans before he disappears backstage. As “Mourning Palace” continues to play Manson himself rolls out of the ring and begins to limp up the aisle, refusing all offers of help and ignoring the boos and jeers of the fans as he makes his own way backstage.

 

“A great victory for our newest SWF Superstar wouldn’t you say Robert?”

 

“Fabulous.” Riley says dryly. “However despite this travesty there’s still plenty of matches to come that will make me happy again, Tom Flesher against Ced for starters.”

 

“And don’t forget we also have the Masked Man defending the USJL Championship against Citizen Cortez! And Citizen Janus will take on both members of the Wayward Sons in our Main Event Handicap match!”

 

“Ah yes I’m definitely looking forwards to that one.” Riley says, gleefully rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

 

“And I’m sure all the good citizens at home are as well Robert! We’re going to commercial now good Citizens but be sure to catch us after the break for more SWF action!”

[the.weej 0]

The Mellon Arena in Pittsburgh is lit up and full of cheering fans as SWF Smarkdown returns from a commercial for the Antique Roadshow, featuring former SWF World Champion HVT (“Yo, this shit writes itself.”). Numerous signs in the audience tout their holders’ appreciation for Dace Night (“All F’N Day, All F’N Night!”), the audience’s hatred for Tom Flesher (an elaborate drawing of Allison Onita wearing an inhumanly large strap-on, feating the words “SUPERIOR? STRETCH!”), or the occasional person proud to support Toxxic in his straight-edge state (“Poison-Free sXe”). Many Wayward Sons foam fingers are spread through the audience, and more than a few homemade or merchandised copies of Ced Ordonez’s mask are worn by fans of all ages.

 

“We’ve got quite an encounter here tonight, Robert,” says Cyclone Comet with a quick salute to the camera. “Tom Flesher and Ced Ordonez debuted around the same time in the spring of 2002, but…”

 

“Their paths diverged, and how,” says Bobby Riley. “Flesher and Ordonez never saw much of each other for one very simple reason. Tom is just that much better, that far above Ordonez. The powers that be never saw any reason to face the two of them off, because Flesher didn’t have to prove himself.”

 

“In fact,” Comet continues, “the only high-profile match these two saw together was at Absolution, where they participated in a four-way for Flesher’s European Championship. Also featuring former SWF World Champion Danny Williams, the four-way was won when interim commissioner Alex Zenon executed a shotgun moonsault on Flesher and pinned him cleanly in the center of the ring.”

 

“Zenon’s never been able to beat Flesher where it counts since.”

 

“In any event,” says Comet, “Flesher and Ordonez should present an interesting contrast, if only because they work different surroundings for a similar style. Flesher is simple, no-nonsense, willing to throw his opponent through the air, while Ordonez will dance around you and fly through the air himself. The oddsmakers certainly aren’t paying high for bets that this match will end with a submission. Both men have used the Nagata Lock extensively, and it would be entirely unsurprising to see someone tap to end this match.”

 

“Well, to see Ordonez tap. Tom Flesher doesn’t submit.”

 

“We’ll see,” chuckles Comet. “In the meantime, let’s go to Funyon.”

 

Funyon stands in the center of the ring and announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall, and will be under cruiserweight rules! There is a twenty-count outside the ring, and throwing your opponent over the top rope will be penalized with immediate disqualification! The first competitor…”

 

"Night of Fire!"

 

The lights go out as the beat of the Niko composed theme begins to excite the crowd.

Near the entrance, a group of shadowy figures slowly appear from underneath the raised stage with via a built-in elevator. These figures are remain motionless in various poses until...

 

"FIRE!"

 

A female group in the song yells as fireballs shoot upward in front of the stage and the figures are revealed to be Ced Ordonez and four female dancers! The crowd cheers, and a few fans are shown grooving along semi-competently as Ordonez and the girls start a heavily choreographed dance routine, while the stage is illuminated in an elaborate light show. After a minute or two of pumping up the crowd, Ced breaks away from the group and begins dancing his way to the ring.

 

“Ced Ordonez, one of the most popular wrestlers in the SWF, is getting ready to compete,” says Comet over the deafening crowd reaction. “His Gundam-esque mask is, of course, his defining feature, but like Xstasy with his capoeira before him, Ordonez is able to incorporate dangerous striking moves into his style that not only look good but are difficult to avoid.”

 

Ordonez slides into the ring and makes his way to the one of the far turnbuckle sets, posing for the crowd for the obligatory photo op.

 

“From Sacramento, California, and weighing in at 209 pounds… he is the Bemani Cross Wizard, CED ORDONEZ~!”

 

Ordonez then looks back to the entrance way and directs the crowd's attention to his dance troupe before they head to the back. Ced poses again, giveing the crowd one more photo op before dropping off the buckle. The music fades, and Funyon announces, “… and his opponent…”

 

*BOOOOOM!*

 

An explosion of blue pyro and smoke lights up the arena, and Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” begins to blare over the speakers! The smoke clears, and Tom Flesher walks out in his blue warm-up suit. Next to him is Allison Onita, wearing her grey sweats and a blue spaghetti-strap tank. She escorts him through the smoke and they walk forward together, fireworks going off in the background. As Allison struts next to Flesher, the fans boo them both loudly. Tom simply shoos them off with a flick of the wrist, and the pair enter the ring together. They strike a pose, Flesher holding his chin and smirking, Onita curling up against him so close that it’s hard to tell where one stops and the other begins. The music fades, and Funyon begins his announcement.

 

“Currently in the ring…”

 

Flesher smirks, and Funyon sighs before drawing an index card from his front pocket. “Tonight you see before you not only one of the most talented hand-to-hand grapplers in the SWF, but also the world. This man has traversed the SWF, fighting everyone who’s come before him and amassing a jaw-dropping record of 78 wins, 29 losses and 2 draws. He has held the SWF World Championship twice, and will soon do so again. He has also, however, reigned atop the light heavyweight mountain, and when thrown in against an opponent of this caliber, he thinks it’s easy to see why. Tonight, at a svelte 229.9 pounds, stands before you the pre-eminent cruiserweight in the SWF today, and the NEXT SWF World Heavyweight Champion… he is the SUPERIOR ONE, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!”

 

Flesher applauds, even as Ced Ordonez looks ready to spit. Allison Onita strips Flesher’s warm-up suit off his body, and the Superior One stretches out before the bell.

 

“Well, that was certainly an exercise in self-service,” says Comet with an eye-roll.

 

“And just what do you mean by that?” snaps Riley. “I’ll have you know that I just have an itch on my thigh!”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Er… never mind.”

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

Flesher and Ordonez meet in the center of the ring, with Ced reaching up for a collar-elbow tie. Flesher steps back, though, and slams a boot into Ced’s stomach! The Bemani Cross Wizard doubles over, only to eat a knee to the face. Flesher shoves him backwards into the corner and follows him in, nailing him in the chest with a stiff chop!

 

SMACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

Ced arches back, and Flesher quiets him with a stiff palm strike to the jaw before backing out of the corner. Ordonez follows him out, and Flesher steps in with a quick double-leg attack before lifting him off the mat in a bear hug. Tom pivots and drops Ced groin-first across his knee with an inverted atomic drop, sending his opponent scurrying across the ring in pain! Flesher grabs his head and whips him to the mat, the covers him for

 

ONE!

 

Nick Soapdish, however, only gets to one before Ordonez kicks out. Flesher hooks Ordonez by the arm and lifts him to his feet, looking for an early abdominal stretch. Ced, though, is able to wriggle out and face Flesher. He throws a quick chop…

 

SMACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

that sends Flesher reeling, then hammers him with a quick roundhouse kick to the head! Flesher staggers backwards into the corner, prompting a cheer from the crowd.

 

“The Bemani Cross Wizard is showing not only his excellent taste in attire,” says Comet, “but also in his plan of attack! He takes it to Flesher where it hurts and assumes control of the match!”

 

“Sure, he can hit a lucky boot to the head, but I’m not going to buy it until he gets the pin.”

 

“Surely you remember that the good Cedizen is capable of taking the check in the win column with the Cross Lightning leglock as well, don’t you?”

 

“Meh. That move hasn’t been over since the last time Tom used it. Besides, when’s the last time Flesher tapped?”

 

Flesher leans against the turnbuckles as Ced drives into the corner, hammering him with a gamengiri! Tom’s head snaps back as Ced connects with the jumping boot to the face, and Ordonez regains his footing on the mat. He plants one foot on the bottom rope and balances, throwing a quick kick to Flesher’s thigh, then one to the stomach, and then back to the thigh! Ced hits the kicks, rapidfire, throwing boot after boot without even giving Flesher time to counter! Flesher finally curls up slightly to protect himself from the machine-gun assault, only to have Ced finish him off with another boot to the face! The crowd elaps to its feet to cheer for Ced as he backs away onto the canvas, and Flesher staggers forward. He takes one step, then another, and flops onto the mat face-first! This prompts a cheer from the fans, and Ordonez dives onto him and rolls him over to make the cover!

 

ONE!

 

But no more, as Flesher gets a shoulder up.

 

“Brilliant sequence from Ced Ordonez,” gushes Comet. “He disabled Flesher with a lightning-quick flurry of kicks that finished with what was by appearance a knockout blow! You have to acknowledge that Ordonez’s repertoire is a veritable arsenal.”

 

“Ced Ordonez can hit a few lucky strikes, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before Flesher goes down to those.”

 

Flesher stays on the mat, and Ced Ordonez hits the ropes. He bounces, then dives into his Powerdrive Elbow… only to have Flesher roll out of the way! Ordonez hits the mat hard, and Flesher quickly regroups, getting back to his feet. Ced, more shocked than hurt from missing the move, gets up with him, only to eat a forearm shiver to the jaw. As Ordonez staggers backwards, Flesher hooks his arm and falls to the side, taking Ced to the mat with an armdrag! Flesher backs away, and Ordonez gets back up a little more slowly. Flesher steps back, measuring Ordonez up, and then whacks him with a backhand! Ordonez’s head snaps to the side and the crowd boos. Flesher, meanwhile, throws a left-handed palm strike, followed by a right-handed one, and repeats. He steps back, winds up, and steps into a spin. After completing a rotation, he lunges forward to nail Ordonez with a lariat! The crowd boos even louder as Flesher steps back, golf-clapping for himself.

 

“Flesher hammers Ordonez with his own version of Toxxic’s punch and discus-clothesline combination!” cackles Riley. “Flesher and Toxxic have been at odds lately, and they’ve been playing a game of one-up. At least, Toxxic thinks he has… he had to have his cronies do the dirty work last week. Flesher’s been making his points himself, if you’ll notice.”

 

Flesher looks down at Ced, who was caught off-guard by the discus lariat. Flesher shrugs and plants a boot on the Bemani Cruiser’s neck, grabbing the top rope and leaning back to increase the weight on Ordonez’s windpipe. He looks at Soapdish, who steps in and starts counting. Flesher simply nods and counts along.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Finally, Flesher breaks the choke, leaving Ced gasping for air on the mat. Flesher backs away, holding his hands up and professing his innocence. Nick Soapdish, ever the vigilant official, admonishes him anyway for the abuse of the rules, but Flesher simply pleads “Not Guilty.” As the angry Soapdish argues with Flesher, Allison Onita sidles up behind Ordonez and slings her purse strap over Ordonez’s head! She leans back, choking Ced with the purse strap even as Flesher complains that he’s done nothing wrong! The fans scream their objection, but Flesher simply shrugs. As Ordonez rapidly turns blue, Onita removes the purse strap and innocently sashays back to Flesher’s corner. Tom nods, thanks Soapdish for making sure the rules are properly enforced, and turns his attention back to Ordonez.

 

“Did you see that?” fumes Comet. “That was a ridiculous abuse of the rules by Tom Flesher and Allison Onita!”

 

“What was?”

 

“Allison Onita just choked Ced Ordonez for … it had to be forty-five seconds, while Tom Flesher distracted Nick Soapdish! I can’t believe, Robert, that you’d pretend such an illegality had not taken place.”

 

“I didn’t see a thing, Comet, and in any case, Flesher can hardly be held responsible for the actions of an overzealous manager.”

 

“Have you no shame?”

 

“Not in my contract, and there’s no way I’m paying for it out of my own pocket.”

 

Flesher drops casually onto Ced Ordonez, covering him for

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

Flesher shrugs, then lifts Ordonez back to his feet. He shuffles to the side, spinning behind Ordonez and ducking his head under the Bemani Cross Wizard’s arm. He starts to lift Ordonez up for a backdrop suplex, but Ced plants his feet and sags his hips to stay on the mat. Flesher tries once again to hoist Ordonez off the mat, but Ced stays on the mat and cranks the headlock! Flesher sneers and charges forward, shooting Ordonez off his head and to the ropes. As Ordonez rebounds, Flesher stands up and cockily thrusts his palm forward, planning to catch Ced with a stepping shotei. Ordonez dodges it, though, with a baseball slide under Flesher’s arm! He springs to his feet, and as Flesher turns around, Ordonez jumps up and sweeps his legs out from under him! He swings his free leg around Flesher’s stomach, taking him to the mat with a flying scissors takedown! As Flesher struggles to regroup from the lightning-quick takedown, Ced shuffles back and hooks Flesher by the ankle! He wraps his leg around Flesher’s thigh and applies a scissors grip to the leg, increasing the pressure on the heel hook! Flesher, though, scrambles desperately for the ropes. He reaches out, grabbing the bottom strand and holding on for dear life as Ordonez hangs on. Soapdish counts

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Disappointed, Ced breaks the hold and backs away as the shaken Flesher rolls to the outside.

 

“Ced Ordonez shows once again,” says Comet, “why he’s considered one of the most dangerous wrestlers in the SWF today. It’s easy to dismiss him as a sideshow act due to his colorful style and attire, but anyone who can secure an ankle lock that quickly would gain a submission against 90% of the wrestlers in the Federation.”

 

“Maybe even 99,” agrees Riley, “but remember that you’re not talking about Tom Flesher. Tom Flesher is the sort of guy who’ll get caught, but it won’t destroy him mentally like it might for other guys. He’ll come back in and take control all over again.”

 

Sure enough, Flesher rolls back into the ring… but Ordonez catches him with a dropkick to the head before he can get up! Flesher flattens out again, and Ordonez reaches down to grab him by the arm. He jerks Flesher to his feet and whips him across the ring. As the Superior One bounces off the ropes, Ced sprawls to the mat and snags him with a drop toehold! The fans cheer as Ordonez takes the World Title contender to the mat, grapevining his leg. He stands up, then hooks Flesher’s free leg as well. Ordonez reaches down, looking for a Mexican surfboard! Flesher flattens out, once again reaching for the ropes! Ced dives forward, trying to keep Flesher from hooking the ropes, but Tom struggles with all his might to keep from getting stretched out by the Wayward Sons’ resident technician! Flesher leans forward, and the quick-thinking Allison Onita sprints over. She pushes the rope toward Flesher, giving him juuuust enough slack to grab the rope. The crowd showers him with boos as Ordonez hops off Flesher and protests the interference. Soapdish simply shakes his head, saying he’s unable to do anything.

 

“And once again, the dubious honor goes to Allison Onita,” says Cyclone Comet. “Miss Onita has become an integral part of Flesher’s survival, and I think it’s evident that without her, Thomas would not be continuing in this match.”

 

“You’re an awful person, Comet, for suggesting that Tom Flesher can’t take care of himself. All I can say is that if you don’t understand why Allison Onita is totally unnecessary for Flesher’s survival, maybe you just shouldn’t be doing blow-by-blow for such a talented athlete.”

 

Flesher starts to get to his feet, but Ordonez grabs him by the arm and quickly spins, dropping to his knees and pulling Flesher over one shoulder with a Japanese armdrag!

 

“IPPON SEIONAGE~!” shouts Comet as Flesher collapses to the mat. Ordonez backs away, and Flesher quickly sits up, only to be nailed in the back of the head with a dropkick! Flesher flattens out, and Ordonez covers him for

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

THR- NO!!!!! Flesher kicks out, and the fans boo! Even so, Flesher is in a bit of a haze as he gets to his feet. Sensing danger, Allison Onita hops up onto the apron as Flesher backs into the ropes. Ordonez throws another kick to Flesher’s thigh, then aims high, looking for a gamengiri! Flesher, though, acts on instinct and hooks Ced by the knee and head to stop the hold. The modified bear hug doesn’t last long, as Flesher quickly arches backwards and executes a totally impromptu capture suplex that sends the Dance Dance Revolutionary over the top rope and to the concrete! The fans begin booing even louder as Cyclone Comet cries, “Disqualify him, Citizen Soapdish! Cruiserweight rules demand it!”

 

Nick Soapdish, however, is… er… distracted by Allison Onita’s spaghetti straps.

 

Yes, that’ll do.

 

“This is a travesty!” shouts Comet.

 

Flesher, however, is too busy shaking off the aftereffects of Ordonez’s offensive run to follow him to the outside. Ordonez lays motionless outside the ring for a few moments before Allison hops off the apron. Soapdish turns around, only to see Flesher leaning on the ropes and looking down on the concrete. Soapdish raises his hand, ready to ask Flesher if he threw Ordonez over the top rope, but thinks better of it and simply shakes his head disgustedly.

 

Ced, meanwhile, rolls back into the ring, operating only on survival instinct. Flesher lifts him to his feet, then cuts him with a chop…

 

SMACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

and another

 

SMACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

and another

 

SMACK!!!! (WHOO!)

 

before whipping Ced to the ropes. Ordonez bounces off, trying to find a rhythm so that he can execute a potent aerial maneuver. However, after being thrown to the outside, he’s a beat behind Tom Flesher, and so he gets caught and thrown overhead with a Railgun suplex! Ordonez comes down hard on his back, but quickly rolls to his stomach to avoid being pinned.

 

“Smart maneuver by Citizen Ced,” notes Comet. “Even in his stunned state, he knows how to avoid being pinned, and also that Tom Flesher’s most dangerous submissions are applied with the opponent on his back. Cedric is defending with intelligence.”

 

Tom squats behind his opponent, threading his arms under Ced’s hips. Flesher grabs Ordonez by the waist, lifting him off the mat in a waistlock. He starts to arch back, looking for a German suplex, but Ordonez flips over Tom’s shoulder and lands on his feet behind the Superior One! He dives down, hooking Flesher between the legs for a schoolboy rollup! Soapdish counts

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

NO!!!! Flesher kicks out and springs to his feet! Ordonez grabs him from behind, though, before he can regain his bearings, and drives him forward into the ropes. Ordonez keeps the waistlock and rolls backwards, trying to hook Flesher with a reverse rollup. Flesher hooks the ropes, though, and stays standing at the sidelines as Ordonez somersaults backwards! He gets back to his feet. Flesher, meanwhile, smirks and taps his temple, pleased that he saw Ordonez’s ploy coming. As he turns around, Ordonez leaps off the mat and hammers Flesher with a gamengiri! Flesher staggers backwards into the ropes, and Ordonez keeps the pressure on by jumping up and dropkicking him in the chest! The force sends Flesher over the top rope and he spills to the floor. The fans cheer Ordonez on as Flesher starts to get to his feet. Tom staggers around outside, with Allison standing at the corner and screaming encouragement. Nick Soapdish starts his count.

 

ONE!

 

Ordonez sprints across the ring, building up speed as Flesher regains his balance.

 

TWO!

 

Flesher looks up, just in time to see Ced spring off the mat and onto the top rope!

 

THREE!

 

The Bemani Cross Wizard leaps off the top cable and dives feet-first toward Flesher! As he rockets through the air towards Flesher, he shifts his position, and so as he lands on Tom, he arches back for a diving hurricanrana!

 

FOUR!

 

Flesher splatters on the concrete, and Ordonez lands with him. The two competitors lay on the floor as the crowd bursts into a “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” chant.

 

FIVE!

 

“Incredible!” marvels Comet. “Ced Ordonez not only takes control by countering out of Tom Flesher’s deadly German suplex, but he manages to put him on the outside with a diving springboard rana!”

 

SIX!

 

“Well, Ordonez might just have sealed his own fate,” Riley replies. “He’s taken enough of a beating in this match that he may have taken the last of it out of himself.”

 

SEVEN!

 

“In any case,” says Comet, as the two athletes lay motionless on the floor, “these men are both lucky that cruiserweight rules are in effect tonight, and with them the twenty-second countout.”

 

EIGHT!

 

Ordonez stirs, starting to get to his feet. He shakes off the cobwebs, looking around and seeing Flesher still barely moving on the floor. Ced stands up and, after a few halting steps, makes his way over to the steel stairs.

 

NINE!

 

He climbs up the steps and onto the apron, as Flesher rolls over impotently.

 

TEN!

 

Ordonez runs down the apron for a few steps before leaping off into a somersault! He rolls forward, landing on Flesher with a rolling senton! Once again, the fans applaud him as Allison leans away, shielding her face.

 

ELEVEN!

 

“And there you have it,” says Comet. “Ced Ordonez is running on fumes, but he still managed to deal quite a bit of damage to Tom Flesher with that rolling senton from the apron to the floor!”

 

“And to himself,” Riley adds. “He’s not moving too quickly either.”

 

TWELVE!

 

Ordonez does sit up, but it’s clear that he’s moving slowly. He gets to his feet, holding the ring apron for leverage, and then reaches down to grab Flesher by the singlet straps.

 

THIRTEEN!

 

With more than a little effort, Ordonez hoists Flesher off the ground and throws him into the ring, then follows him in. The fans applaud politely as Ced makes the effort to lay across Flesher’s body, and Nick Soapdish makes the count.

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

THRE- NO!!!!!!

 

 

The fans groan as Flesher throws a shoulder off the mat, though not very forcefully. Ordonez gets up, looking a little disappointed, but then looks over at the turnbuckles! He points to the sky, prompting a huge cheer from the crowd!

 

“What are we going to see from Ced Ordonez?” asks Comet. “Perhaps he’s going to put the exclamation point on this match with one of the #1 contenders to the SWF World Championship!”

 

“Flesher’s THE #1 contender, you tool,” says Riley. “Why can’t you get that through your head? Toxxic’s contendership came after Flesher’s, and so Flesher’s trumps Toxxic’s! What’s so hard about that?”

 

“In any case,” says Comet, “if Tom Flesher can’t get through the Wayward Ced, how can we expect him to hold his own against Janus and Toxxic?”

 

Ordonez grabs Flesher by the arms and drags him over to the corner, leaving him on the mat. Then, after rethinking it for a moment, he grabs the Superior One and lifts him to his feet instead! “Smart move by Cedric,” says Comet, “as using the Fire Soul against Flesher would likely get him the same result that Johnny Dangerous reaped from his Death From Above move, and that he got from his Powerdrive Elbow earlier in this very ring – a moving target.” Instead, Ordonez lifts Flesher to the top turnbuckle, prompting another cheer. “Rather, he’s going for the Dynamite Rave fallaway moonsault! Flesher is one of the few in the SWF who is light enough for Ordonez to execute this high-impact slam, and nobody’s going to get up from it!”

 

“Yeah, but don’t you think he’s given Tom just a liiiittle too much time to recover?”

 

Ced grabs Flesher and tries to lift him into powerslam position, but Tom hooks his legs under the ropes and holds on for dear life! Ced tries once again, but this time, Flesher shoves him backwards! Ced loses his balance and starts to fall off the turnbuckle, and Flesher seals the deal with a stiff palm to the jaw that stuns him and sends him to the mat! Stunned, Ordonez falls to the mat on his back. Immediately, Flesher stands up, then leaps off the top rope and onto Ced with a sickening double stomp! The fans boo as Flesher lands on Ordonez’s stomach and takes a few sprinting steps forward to regain his balance. Ced grimaces on the mat as Flesher leans against the ropes, trying to get his second wind.

 

“Brilliant!” gushes Riley. “I can’t say enough about Tom Flesher’s tactics!”

 

“He shoved Ordonez off the top rope, Robert. That may have been effective, but it wasn’t anything special.”

 

Flesher grabs Ced by the waist and hoists him off the mat. The crowd boos, expecting Flesher to go for the Ego Buster. Instead, the Superior One lifts Ordonez all the way up and drapes him across his shoulder, in position for a running power slam. He reaches around Ced’s body, and under his neck, then locks his hands… and sits out! He drives Ordonez head-first into the mat with a sheer-drop Emerald Fusion, better known as…

 

“ADF II!” shrieks Riley! “AS DARKNESS FALLS II! Janus’s trademark move! He CAN’T get up from that!”

 

Ordonez goes completely limp as Flesher smirks and reclines across him. Nick Soapdish makes the totally academic three-count.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

“Your winner, ‘the Superior One’ TOM FLESHER!”

 

Flesher stands up, his smirk absolutely insufferable.

 

“There you have it,” says Comet. “Tom Flesher is making every effort to upstage not only Toxxic but his other opponent, Janus. However, one must remember that neither man will give up the ghost as easily as the somewhat rusty Cedriv Ordonez.”

 

“Oh, that’s just you trying to deny that Tom’s the top dog,” says Riley. “Admit it. It’ll be so much easier.”

 

“Speaking of easy, will Todd Cortez have it easy against the Masked Man? That match – up next!”

Edited July 13, 2004 by Grand Slam

[the.weej 0]

LIGHTS!

 

CAMERA!

 

SMARKDOWN!

 

The Mellon Arena in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, is a collective hand basket of love, flowers, and excitement! It’s time for the penultimate match of the evening, but these crazy Pennsylvanians are acting like it’s the opening bell!

 

“Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, citizens!” Cyclone Comet greets, “we’ve had an amazing night so far, and I know I usually say that on every show, but it rings true tonight.”

 

“Tom Flesher, Toxxic, and Janus are all in the house,” Bobby Riley salivates, “and it’s getting me hyped for Ground Zero! But, uh, we’ve got this USJL Championship match coming up next, too.”

 

“Correct you are, Bobbo, as the unique, zany Masked Man defends his title against Todd Cortez, who has reached the proverbial fork in his championship road, as Mike Van Siclen has taken a vacation from the SWF, and, more specifically, from his tag team title reign.”

 

“He deserves it, Comet! Mike Van Siclen has, for years, been providing the SWF with quality entertainment. Every showman like that deserves a break. Cortez needs to find a partner, and hey, whether he does or not, I think those titles are going to Sean Davis and Spike Jenkins come Storm.”

 

“We’ll see, Bobbo, we’ll see.”

 

The camera cuts to Funyon in the ring…no, wait, it doesn’t, as the ring is occupied by a table, two chairs on opposite sides, and the SWF United States Champion, The Masked Man! The briefcase is next to the table, and the United States Championship is around Mask’s waist. In addition, it seems that TMM has tied Funyon’s wrists together with rope, and proceeded to tie that rope to the top rope of the ring, leaving Funyon captive and incapacitated! Mask puts the finishing touches on the table, as it now includes a tablecloth and napkins. And candlelight, of course.

 

“…Bobbo, do you know what’s going on?”

 

“Not a clue, Comet.”

 

However, Delinquent Habits’ “Tres Delinquentes” rock remix echoes throughout the arena, and the Pittsburgh fans give a strong mixed reaction for one-half of the tag team champions, Todd Cortez! The Urban Legend appears at the top of the ramp in his traditional wrestling attire, with a tag team championship belt draped over each shoulder. He walks to the ring, focused on the Masked Man. He enters the ring…and takes the microphone from inside of Funyon’s pants. He places the tag titles on the table and begins speaking.

 

“Alex Zenon wants me to defend these tag titles while my partner, Mike Van Siclen, is on vacation? He wants me to go out and find a partner for a title defense on Storm? Well, Alex, it looks like that won’t be necessary.”

 

Cortez walks over to the table…AND SITS DOWN. MASK DOES THE SAME. GOOD LORD.

 

“See, I didn’t have to *find* a partner, per se. My partner came to me. When you have somebody with the charisma and wrestling ability that this man has, you don’t say no. You say ‘what’s in it for me?’”

 

The Masked Man smirks, and puts the briefcase onto the table. He begins entering the combination, the camera zooms in…

 

6……………6……………7. No, wait, it’s not a 7, it’s a……………5. There we go. It opens. Mask turns the briefcase towards Cortez, and it casts a brilliant, golden glow on the Urban Legend’s face. Todd is transfixed. The camera tries to zoom in on what’s inside…but the briefcase SHUTS just before the camera can peer inside.

 

“That’s what’s in it for me,” Cortez continues, “oh, and I let him name our team, too.”

 

Mask takes the microphone.

 

“First, I would like to extend a greeting to my friends and fans all over the world!” Mask waves, and is met with jeers from the crowd, “I am typically not one to pass up an opportunity to hold two championships, so I knew what I had to do! Monsieur Cortez was benevolent enough to allow me to name our team, and I went through research. Books. Dictionaries. Thesauri. Atlases. Biographies. Photo albums. And then, I came to realize that I did not need any of these. See, my friends Todd and Michael were under the alias of ‘Hollywood Boulevard’ and I decided, why not hold the tradition of the street name? I went through my memory bank, and I remembered the greatest street that I had the greatest time in America on. It was in New York City, which is a vile area, but there was one street that turned me on…

 

42nd Street.” Mask places the microphone on the table, and both he and Cortez stand up. Cortez takes one of the tag titles and slides it across the table over to TMM, who gladly accepts it. The fans wake up after Mask’s incoherent promo and begin booing, but the newly christened team shakes hands and smiles at the hordes of cameramen that have appeared out of nowhere. Cortez picks up the microphone again.

 

“See, Zenon? It’s that simple. You line ‘em up, and we’ll knock ‘em down. Me and Mike, we run the tag team scene around here, and ain't no way we're gonna let some posers try to get one over on us while he's enjoying his R n' R time. Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis? Gimme a break. That's like sticking Barry Horowitz and Reno Riggins in the ring with the Midnight Express. You just can't compare. They don't come close to the Boulevard's level, and they’re nothing compared to the greatest potential replacement tag team in history, Forty-Second Street!”

 

“Misirlou” hits and Cortez begins exiting the ring. However, The Masked Man can’t just let that table stand there, so, after cutting Funyon free, he runs towards the table, leaps into the air…

 

 

*CRASH!*

 

 

…and dives right into it.

 

“Let the party begin, says I!” Riley proclaims, “Todd Cortez and The Masked Man, our new Tag Team Champions? What a team! And what a name, too! 42nd Street? That’s brilliant!”

 

“Well, that certainly was unique,” Comet agrees, “And I guess we won’t have an official match, then. I guess that’s Cortez’s way of sticking it to commissioner Zenon!”

 

Cortez turns around, perplexed by the stunt, as MM rests upon the table scraps. Cortez helps Mask out of the rubble, raises his arm in the air, and then leaves him in the ring. The Sexual Maskosaurus takes both of his title belts and follows Cortez shortly after, however, and the crowd is just so completely weirded out.

 

"For the sake of the tag titles, as well as for the sake of his sanity, I hope Todd Cortez knows what he's doing."

 

"Comet, cut the pessimism. These two guys are damn good on their own, but together? Hell, they'll be unstoppable!"

 

“Well right now, they'll have to stop because it's commercial time. Our world champion, Janus, is in action next, so don't leave the room for too long!” Comet shouts, before being cut off by a commercial for the William Hearford action figure.

[the.weej 0]

SWF Lockdown is back on the air in three.

 

Two.

 

One.

 

"RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

As the cameras of SWF Smarkdown explode into life, the Mellon Arena of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania is shown filled to the brim with screaming and cheering fans! As the cameras pan up and down the many rows, from ringside to rafters, the people clearly show their excitement to be here with the raucous noise. The signs are out in force, from "Ebony > WC!" to "Too Much Maddix!" to "Big Country? Big C--t!". Of course, that's just a small sample. And as the camera swings down towards the ring, we're treated to a trio of signs about the World Title scene: "Toxxic Fears Flesher", "Flesher Fears Toxxic", and "Janus Fears Nothing". And then we're greeted by the ever excited face of everyone's favourite superhero...

 

"I'M CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET! And welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, citizens and fans! It's been a hectic ride so far tonight, with two men in bird suits facing off, Citizen Flesher fighting Citizen Ordonez, and mysterious newcomer Citizen Everheart going to school with Citizen Manson!"

 

"I of course am Bobby Riley." the ambigiously gay co-announcer adds. "Pay no attention to the guy in spandex."

 

"Don't be ridiculous, Robert! It's been a terribly exciting night so far, and it's time for our positively spectacular main event!"

 

"Did someone slip sugar into your Comet Crunchies this morning?" Riley groans. "Janus makes his return from suspension in a HANDICAP match, clearly a move by Commissioner Zenon to weaken the almighty beast. But Janus is going to completely TEAR these two apart!"

 

"We shall see, as the Hell Machine has never truely faired well in a one on two environment, unlike yourself!"

 

Bobby Riley can sense SOME sort of jab at him there, and he gives Comet a long and studious look. But the superhero isn't giving anything away as he waves to the fans, and so the ambigiously gay co-announcer sits back with a sigh. The camera pans to the ring, where Funyon stands as always in his dapper tuxedo, lifting his microphone to his lips. The opening riffs of a song begin to echo through the arena, as the announcer begins his spiel.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your main event! It is scheduled for ONE fall, under HANDICAP rules, where the handicap team MUST tag in and out of the match! Introducing first, from Redwater Alberta Canada and Long Beach California...."

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOM!*

 

The song is none other than "Carry On Wayward Son" and a pair of green flares explode from the stage, arcing into the air as a pair of figures stride from backstage to stand in the single spotlight. The crowd lets the duo have it with cheers as they stand hanging their heads, silently, as if frozen in the spotlight.

 

"Standing at six-foot-seven and six-foot one respectively, at a combined FIVE hundred and ONE pounds! They are Edward James and Alan Clark....the WAAAAAAAAYWAAAAAAAARD SOOOOOOOONS!"

 

"Carry on my wayward sons...

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don’t you cry no more..."

 

Finally, amidst the raucous fan noise, Edward James and Alan Clark stride determinedly down the ramp, occasionally slapping hands with the fans. The two roll under the bottom rope and into the ring, standing back to back and facing opposite turnbuckles. As they bow their heads once more, four more flares shoot into the air - one from each ringpost - arcing high into the rafters as the sound of "Carry On Wayward Son" fades out. Clark and James lift their heads and wave to the fans, then turn to each other to start discussing tactics.

 

"Citizens James and Clark discussing what tactics they might use tonight, Robert..."

 

"They won't last too long, Comet, you just watch."

 

"And why is that, Bobbo?" Comet queries.

 

"Because he's heee~eeere!" Riley sing-songs.

 

All the lights in the arena fade, plunging the place into near blackness. And lights began to flash around the Smarktron - red, ominous, dangerous - as the loud sound of a buzzing siren shreds the air. The crowd begins to boo as a word begins to flash repeatedly on the Smarktron, a word that is slowly but surely coming into focus. And finally, just as the word is readable, the siren stops... and a bell tolls.

 

[sTATUS: RELEASED!]

 

"Consumed with memories...

That preceded today...

Given a chance to bereave...

Life that's slipping AWAY!"

 

As blue pyrotechnic fountains sprinkle up on either side of the ramp, the sound of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" blares from the speakers. The fans simply boo and watch the curtain intently, as it ruffles and is swept aside. White trenchcoat flowing behind him, equally white hair slightly obscuring bloody red eyes, the Hell Machine appears. The World Title is slung over his shoulder, and the spotlight follows him on his path to the ring.

 

"And their opponent! Returning from suspension, standing at seven-foot-two and weighing THREE hundred and SIXTY pounds! He is the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIIIIIION.....THE HELL MACHINE! JAAAAAAAAANUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS!"

 

"Revive all my fears!

Revive wasted tears!

Revive void within!

Revive once again!"

 

Each pyrotechnic blue fountain has gone out as the Hell Machine strides by, and he steps around the ring with a deadly grace that belies his size. He lays the World Title on the timekeeper's table, then shrugs off his trenchcoat. There is no sign of injury, no knee brace, no nothing, as the giant strides up the stairs and steps over the top rope. On the opposite side of the ring, Alan Clark and Edward James watch with a mixture of foolhardy courage and trepidation, as the monster of a man thrusts his arms in the air.

 

*BOOOOOOOM!*

 

The lights flash back up as pillars of blue fire explode from all four turnbuckles, heralding the end of "Resurrection". Referee Mark Hebner looks nervously up at the clearly vitalised Janus, then motions both the Wayward Sons and the Hell Machine closer to quietly explain the rules. Popping his neck and stepping back afterwards, the seven footer simply folds his arms and stares a hole through his opposition. Clark and James discuss again, and then Alan moves to the apron as Hebner calls for the bell.

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

"And the Wayward Sons seeking to use the youthful energy and strength of Citizens James against the established power of Citizen Janus!"

 

"Oh, please, Comet!" Riley snorts. "No one can face Janus down in a test of strength and you know it."

 

Regardless of Riley's words, that's exactly what Edward appears to be doing. He lifts his arms in the air and wiggles his fingers, and the Hell Machine raises a curious eyebrow. Unfolding his arms, the giant lifts his own hands and steps forward, and in the center of the ring, James and Janus lock hands. And the crowd begins to cheer for the bigger of the Wayward Sons as it comes to pass that he's actually standing his ground! Locked in a test of strength with the Hell Machine, James appears to be able to match the giant in sheer power... and so Janus just snaps his head forward to crush Edward's face with a headbutt! The crowd boos as the rookie powerhouse's arms slacken, and the Hell Machine slams another headbutt into his opponent's face.

 

Shaking his head, James tries to pull back, but the world champion is going to teach this youngster a lesson about standing his ground. Releasing one of Edward's arms, the Hell Machine reaches down and swings him up into a torture rack, and doesn't pause to wrench the back. Instead, he simply throws James out in front of him and drops into a sitout powerbomb! Rather than hold it for a pin, the giant rises to his feet and grins viciously, before turning to point at Clark as if saying he's next. This of course means he doesn't see James getting up while holding his back and hit the ropes...

 

...and he turns around to take a lumbering big boot to the chest! But the Hell Machine only stumbles backwards, nearly toppling, but keeping his balance. Angered that the young James would attack him so, the giant charges forward only to be lifted into the air and PLANTED with a painful looking powerslam! Edward hooks the leg, but before Hebner can even count one the Hell Machine thrusts his arm into the air. Wanting to retain his advantage in the early going, James starts raining stomps down on the seven foot world champion. Slowly beginning to rise under the barrage, Janus makes it to his knees before Edward changes tactics and hooks his arms! Before he can hit anything however, the Hell Machine tears his arms free and lifts James into the air to SNAP him down again with a high-angle spinebuster!

 

"And the rookie is getting his ass beat. How not-surprising." Riley yawns.

 

"Citizen James may have made a grievous error wanting to stand his ground with a wrestler bigger AND far more experienced..." Comet muses.

 

"Oh, gee, you think?" Riley snickers.

 

"I don't think Citizen James has ever met someone who can match his strength... he'll need to use whatever speed he has."

 

Stalking across the ring, the Hell Machine hunches next to the ropes, staring intently at the rising Edward James. Rolling over and holding his back with one hand, the rookie powerhouse begins to push himself up when he spots his titanic opponent out of the corner of his eye. Launching himself off the ropes, Janus lowers his shoulder to pulverise Edward's ribcage, but James dives aside. The Hell Machine straightens up as his momentum carries him towards Alan Clark on the apron... and Clark uses the ropes as a spring to lift himself up and enzugiri the Hell Machine! Landing on the apron again, Alan looks innocent as the fans cheer. Dazed, Janus slowly turns away from the ropes... and is avalanched into the Wayward Sons corner by Edward James! The rookie powerhouse instantly lashes out with a knife-edge chop, smacking it against the seven footer's chest.

 

*SMACK!*

 

"WHOOOOOO!"

 

*SMACK!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

After the second chop, James takes a few steps back and charges forward again, connecting with a STIFF clothesline that slams the Hell Machine back into the turnbuckles. He slaps Alan's hand and Hebner signifies a tag, as James grabs armfuls of dazed Janus and scoops him up and over in another hard powerslam! At the same moment, as Edward rolls out of the ring, Clark launches himself off the top rope and crashes down on the seven footer's chest with a frog splash before hooking the leg!

 

"And Citizen Janus takes a One Way Trip!" Comet laughs.

 

"To where?" Riley raises an eyebrow.

 

"To the Den of DEFEAT, Robert!"

 

"Oh, you WISH." Riley snorts.

 

Hebner drops down and the fans eagerly count along.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....KICKOUT!

 

Alan scratches his head almost thoughtfully as the overwhelmed Hell Machine kicks out of the move, then shrugs and runs for the ropes, looking for a lionsault. Janus rolls towards Clark as he springs back, and the smaller member of the Wayward Sons lands precariously on his feet before stumbling forward after the rising monster. The Hell Machine wards his opponent off with a huge right fist that misses by a mere centimetre, Clark reeling back to avoid the danger. This allows the seven footer to regain his vertical base, and Alan bolts in for the attack, ducking under a rolling lariat attempt. He bounces off the ropes as the Hell Machine spins around, leaping up into the air and locking his legs for a hurricanrana attempt. But like so many smaller men before, Alan Clark finds the danger in trying to rana a seven footer.

 

Janus simply grabs him and POWERBOMBS him down into the mat. Following up with his own lumbering run to the ropes, the Hell Machine comes stomping back and flings his leg out to compact Clark's chest with a huge legdrop. Alan jerks and wheezes as the air is squashed out of his lungs, and offers a little resistance in the form of weak punches as Janus drags him up by the hair. A huge right hand clamps around his throat and cuts that minor offense off, and the smaller half of the Wayward Sons finds himself going up and being SLAMMED back down into the mat with a vicious looking chokeslam. But the Hell Machine doesn't let go - he drags Clark right back up - and throws the smaller man callously into the corner occupied by Edward James. The rookie powerhouse looks at the battered Clark, then at the waiting, viciously grinning Janus.

 

"Heavens have mercy, Robert! Citizen Janus just pummelled Citizen Clark in a few swift moves, and now he wants Citizen James to come back into the ring!"

 

"Clark's not worth being a smudge on his boot, Comet." Riley smiles with superiority. "Janus wants an actual challenge, as much as some pathetic rookie can offer."

 

"Underestimation can be a dangerous game, Robert..." Comet warns.

 

Looking between the self-confident monster and his easily battered partner, Edward James grits his teeth and slaps Clark's shoulder. Mark Hebner instantly signifies a tag, and Alan simply slumps against the turnbuckle as the rookie powerhouse steps into the ring to confront the Hell Machine. And with a lion's roar, he charges forward at the bigger man! Ducking under the heavy swing of the Knuckle Bomb, he reaches up with both hands to grab the monsterous world champion by the throat. Janus instantly grabs Edward's hands, but the rookie roars again and lifts the big man off the mat, before dropping down into a choke bomb! The crowd roars in approval as James climbs back to his feet, and doesn't relent on the assault.

 

Wrapping his fingers in white hair, James pulls the bigger man up to his feet and slings him into the ropes. When Janus comes rumbling back, he finds himself being lifted into the air for a military press, before being dropped down over Edward's knee! Almost literally bouncing off said knee, the Hell Machine hits the mat and holds his stomach, coughing and grimacing. The rookie powerhouse follows up his attack by dropping a big elbow into the Hell Machine's ribs, then tangles fingers in the bigger man's white hair again. Beginning to drag him up, Edward James locks on a front facelock and starts to lift Janus into the air. Arms twitching, the rookie manages to complete the beginning of a vertical suplex...

 

...stall...

 

...stall some more...

 

....and he spins around, before hooking a leg and SLAMMING the Hell Machine spine-first into the ground with a painful looking stalling jackhammer! The crowd pops for the move as James leans over Janus' torso, keeping the leg hooked and his eyes and weight on his opponent's shoulders. Mark Hebner is instantly there to make a count, as the crowd cheers some more.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....

TWO!!

....KICKOUT!!

 

"Citizen James showing some of his rage at seeing his tag partner brutalised so easily, Robert! He's been working like a demon on Citizen Janus' back!"

 

"All that will come to nothing, Comet." Riley snorts. "No little rookie is going to keep the Hell Machine down."

 

"I'd hardly call someone of Citizen James' size little, Robert. But Citizen Janus seems to be reeling and feeling the impact on his back, because he doesn't seem in a hurry to get up!"

 

Indeed, the Hell Machine simply lays on the mat with a grimace, as Edward James stands up again to a small ovation from the crowd. Ignoring the monster for a moment, James moves over to his corner, where Clark has climbed back out onto the apron and looks less than one hundred percent. The rookie powerhouse checks on his veteran partner's condition, and when Clark confirms he's okay, Edward turns around to continue the fight with the Hell Machine. Of course, the big boot he gets to the face kills that idea, and the rookie hits the mat as Janus looms over him! Rather than focus on the powerhouse of the team, the Hell Machine lashes out with a stiff fist at Clark on the apron, and the smaller man jumps down to avoid being decapitated.

 

This gives the Hell Machine the space he needs to drag James from the ground and straight up into the air with a gorilla press. Holding the quivering rookie above his head, Janus stares down at the floor where Alan Clark watches, moving carefully from side to side. And in full view of the fans and his tag partner, Edward James goes flying over the top rope to go crashing into the floor, narrowly missing Alan Clark! The fans boo momentously as the rookie powerhouse slams into the thin mats, and Clark instantly goes to check on his partner. The Hell Machine paces around the ring, pressing one hand against his back and growling something at Mark Hebner. The referee nods with a slightly fearful look and begins making a ten count.

 

ONE!

 

"Citizen James has taken a dreadful spill there, Robert. I wonder if he's alive enough to get back in the ring?"

 

"He should just stay down. It'll keep him and his pansy-ass partner alive, Comet."

 

TWO!

 

It's doubtful that either of the Wayward Sons hear the words of Riley and Comet, as Alan attempts to help Edward up. The rookie powerhouse grits his teeth, holding his ribcage with one arm, as he wraps his other around Clark's shoulders and tries to stand. In the ring, Janus stops his pacing and watches the struggling team pull itself upright.

 

THREE!

 

As Clark and James move back towards the ring, the Hell Machine suddenly begins to smile. It's not pleasant at all, and he takes another look at the two Wayward Sons as they move towards the apron. And then he lumbers across the ring, hitting the opposite ropes.

 

"Oh, this isn't going to be pretty." Comet winces.

 

"Huh? Oh...holy CRAP!" Riley shrieks.

 

FOUR!

 

Just as Hebner counts four, a white-haired shape rumbles past him and with a massive lunge, dives over the TOP rope. Huge arms extended like a pair of wings, the three hundred and sixty pound Hell Machine soars out of the ring! Alan Clark and Edward James barely have time to register the flying behemoth before he crashes into them with a massive diving double clothesline, sending all three men crashing down to the mat and forcing Hebner to restart the count as the fans chant.

 

"HOLY SHIT!"

"HOLY SHIT!"

"HOLY SHIT!"

 

ONE!

 

"Great merciful Zeus and Odin, Citizen Janus may have just murdered his two opponents, Robert!"

 

"And what better way for the Wayward Sons to die?" Riley cackles.

 

"He also makes a point here, Robert. Citizen Janus will do whatever it takes - including flying to the outside, something he hardly ever does - to win the match with Citizens Flesher and Toxxic." Comet murmurs.

 

TWO!

 

As the fans continue their fecal chant, the Hell Machine grimaces and begins pulling himself upright. He holds his back with one hand, as spread out before him, both Alan Clark and Edward James groan in pain. Stumbling a little, Janus reaches his vertical base and reaches down again, dragging Clark up and into a gorilla press.

 

THREE!

 

The non-legal member of the Wayward Sons soars over the top rope and crashes down into the mat. Edward James is somewhat luckier, as the Hell Machine simply rolls him under the bottom rope to break the count. Following Edward in, Janus smiles as he looks down at the rookie powerhouse, before reaching down and clamping his hand over James' face. As Mark Hebner attempts to assist Alan Clark back to the apron, Edward lashes out blindly and punches the Hell Machine square in the testicular area! The crowd 'oooooo's in somewhat sympathetic pain as Janus reels back, clutching his poor punished bits.

 

The seven foot world champion ends up leaning against one turnbuckle, as Mark Hebner helps Clark onto the apron and Edward James begins using the ropes to help himself up. Shaking his head and holding his ribs, the rookie powerhouse reels over to the stunned Hell Machine and slams a knee into his stomach, before hooking both arms, lifting, and falling back. The double-arm DDT spikes Janus almost right on his dome, and with a weary sort of fire in his eyes, James hooks the leg.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....

TWO!!

...

....

.....KICKOUT!!

 

"Citizen Janus best watch himself, Robert! He's not invincible!"

 

"Oh, puh-f<beep>ing-lease, Comet. The only reason that was close was because James cheated and punched Janus in his manly bits!"

 

"I will neither confirm nor deny that I saw Edward James use notorious tactics, Robert."

 

The action in the ring is remarkably lacking as the commentators debate. Janus pulls himself up into the corner and winces, holding his manly parts, while Edward rubs his face and rolls away towards his corner to recuperate. Alan Clark, battered as he is, holds out his hand for a tag, and with a surprised look on his face, James takes it. The rookie powerhouse rolls out of the ring as Clark hops into the ring, wincing and stretching a little. Seeing the Hell Machine beginning to rise in the corner, the smaller member of the Wayward Sons darts forward and does a quick cartwheel before flinging his legs out in a dropkick that smashes into the Hell Machine's stomach!

 

"And Citizen Clark makes a comeback with the One Hit Kill!" Comet calls.

 

The sudden impact so close to his groin forces Janus to double over, and that's just enough for Clark to wrap his arms around the behemoth's head in a front facelock. Taking a chance, he pulls the Hell Machine a small distance out of the corner, and lifts his free arm. Before the seven footer can counter into a spinebuster or similar move, Alan spins around and takes him down with a spinning neckbreaker! The crowd begins cheering once more for the Wayward Sons as Clark hits yet another signature move.

 

"Followed by the Wayward Fate!" the superhero continues.

 

"Oh, god. Janus, are you ASLEEP in there?! KILL HIM!" Riley yells.

 

Vitalised by his successful attack, the smaller member of the Wayward Sons runs to the ropes and bounces back, jumping into the air, flipping backwards and crashing down over the Hell Machine's ribs! The crowd lets out a ragged roar, but Mark Hebner doesn't drop down to count, pointing to the fact that the big Australian's long legs are under the bottom rope. The crowd boos, but Clark just throws his hands up and shrugs before standing up and grabbing one huge arm to drag the Hell Machine away from the ropes, holding his ribs with the other.

 

"Citizen Clark hits three of his signature moves - the One Hit Kill, the Wayward Fate, and the Tumbleweed Shooting Star Press, and I dare say the combined impact may have blasted the air out of the world champion!"

 

"Don't be ridiculous." Riley snorts, though he doesn't sound confident.

 

"All three men have got to be hurting, but the Wayward Sons are in clear control of the match!" Comet continues.

 

Taking deep and rasping breaths, Alan looks down at the Hell Machine and stops his dragging to hurry back to his corner, say something inaudible to Edward James, and tag the rookie powerhouse back into the match. James nods and steps into the ring as Clark moves out to the apron. Also holding his ribs, Edward grabs the world champion's arm and drags him over to the Wayward Sons corner. As Janus shakes his head and starts recovering from Clark's earlier attack, he finds himself pushed chest-first into the corner, and Alan locking on a front facelock.

 

Standing on the second rope, the smaller half of the Wayward Sons suspends the Hell Machine's head over the top turnbuckle. In the ring, Edward James keeps Janus from straightening up or using his arms to escape, and Alan drops down, smashing the skull of the Hell Machine into the hard steel of the top turnbuckle with the Scenic Driver! At the same time, James lets go, and the Hell Machine straightens up and stumbles back woozily, clutching his head with both hands and spinning in a slow, confused circle. Out of the corner of his eye, the Hell Machine sees a double image of Edward James hitting the ropes and launching himself forward with a Maori Badass-esque lariat...

 

...and the world champion kills the rookie powerhouse's momentum dead with a right hand straight to the face! The Knuckle Bomb stops Edward James in his tracks, and with a stunned look not unlike a deer in headlights, the larger half of the Wayward Sons takes about two steps back before crumpling to the mat. The Hell Machine follows suite, dropping to his knees and holding his head in his hands. A faint trickle of blood is visible between his gloved fingers as, shaking his head viciously, the giant crawls forward to hook the leg of his opponent.

 

ONE!

...

....

.....

TWO!!

...

....

.....

THREEEEEEEBROKENUPBYCLARK!

 

A quick kick to the side of the Hell Machine's head stops the count, and as James lolls on the mat and vainly tries to keep his wits about him, Alan Clark returns to the apron while shouting challenging remarks at the seven foot world champion. Janus is not one to back down to a challenge, and much like he did before, the scatterbrained monster heaves Edward James off the mat and throws him into the Wayward Sons corner. Clark doesn't waste time tagging in, clearly pumped up as he dances from side to side, watching the Hell Machine's slow movements. It's the world champion who moves first, spinning to fire off a rolling lariat.

 

But the challenger, sore but vitalised, ducks under the swinging arm and dashes for the ropes. Knowing Clark has to come back, Janus swings around with his right hand outstretched, prepared to demolish Alan's face like he had Edwards. But the smaller half of the Wayward Sons sensed that coming too, and he again ducks under the giant's attack. The behemoth begins to turn, but he's far too slow as Clark bounces again, sliding low to dropkick the Hell Machine's left knee. Janus drops down, and Alan rolls to continue his dash to the ropes, coming back to the half-downed giant...

 

...and just CRACKING him in the forehead with a stinging dropkick! The big man's head snaps back from the impact, and he half-rises before stumbling back against the ropes. He presses one hand to his forehead as Clark once more bounces to his feet, breathing heavily and awaiting the Hell Machine's next move. The giant lifts his gloved hand from his face, and the trickle caused by the Scenic Driver has become a stream thanks to the smaller Wayward Son's hard kick. Blood stains the big man's forehead, trickling down either side of his nose and around his eyes. Seeing the angry gleam lighting up in those red eyes, Alan Clark realises he may have just made a terrible mistake.

 

"The Scenic Driver left its mark, and it seems Citizen Clark's vicious dropkick has made the mark even bigger! The world champion is openly bleeding!" Comet shills.

 

"Uh, Comet, as much as I like Janus, that's probably not a good thing."

 

"Blood loss CAN make it easier for the bleeder to lose a match, Robert."

 

"Blood loss can also p<bleep> off giant psychopathic Australians." the ambiguously gay co-announcer responds.

 

As the Hell Machine stalks towards Clark, promising only death with those gleaming red eyes, the smaller half of the Wayward Sons considers his last will and testament. He glances towards his corner, where Edward James is still slumped in the turnbuckle and trying to gather his wits, with Mark Hebner trying to help the rookie powerhouse back to the apron. He flicks his eyes back to Janus just as a huge hand reaches out to wrap around his face, clamping on an iron-claw-esque hold. Alan screams in pain as he feels his face being compressed, and the scream only gets louder as the seven foot world champion lifts him off the mat. He suspends Clark in the air for several moments, held up only by his face, before slamming the challenging little man back down into the mat.

 

The Hell Machine considers going for a pin, but his gaze follows where Clark's had gone earlier. With a snarl on his face, the seven footer storms over to the corner, 'politely' brushing Mark Hebner aside and clamping his hands around the throat of Edward James. Bodily lifting the rookie powerhouse into the air, Janus almost gently puts James over the top rope and on the apron before rearing back to punch him straight off with another Knuckle Bomb! But the dazed rookie ducks under the swing, using a textbook counter by swinging his body between the top and middle ropes to shoulder the Hell Machine's stomach. Reeling back with a grunt, the seven foot Australian moves forward to brutalise the crosseyed, battered rookie...

 

...only to find Mark Hebner waving his arms and yelling at the giant to keep his mind on the legal man. Turning his red eyed glower on the fearing referee, the behemothic world champion gives Edward James a warning glare. That one look promising pain and death if the rookie powerhouse does it again, the Hell Machine turns his attention back to the matter at hand. Alan Clark sprawls on the mat, still holding his face with both hands, red marks visible in the skin where the giant had squeezed his face. Taking a deep breath, that familiar demonic grin spreads over the seven footer's face, stretching almost as wide as his now outstretched arms. He circles slowly around the fallen Clark, waiting and watching. The fans know the move the giant signals for, and begin booing most loudly as Alan begins working his way to his feet.

 

"WATCH OUT, AL-AN!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"WATCH OUT, AL-AN!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"WATCH OUT, AL-AN!" *clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

 

"And the fans show their support for Citizen Clark, Robert!"

 

"Why is it they warn them, anyway? It's not like the wrestlers actually pay attention."

 

"Hush, Robert. Let them have their fun." Comet whispers.

 

The dazed, smaller member of the Wayward Sons seems to hear the chant, glancing around warily as he struggles upright. But as wary as he is, he doesn't see the figure standing directly behind him with arms closing like a vice. Immeasurable pressure is applied to both Clark's arms and torso, as the Hell Machine locks in the deadly hold known as the Hell Crush! The crowd boos and Alan shrieks in agony, but the hold is released after several long seconds, as Edward James steps into the ring and Janus spots him. The rookie powerhouse hesitates as Mark Hebner tells him to get back on the apron, while the seven foot world champion stares ominously, daring the other man to come forward.

 

And ignoring Mark Hebner, Edward James charges forward, prepared to defend the well-being of his stablemate.

 

"Here he comes to save the day!" Comet shouts.

 

Unfortunately for him, the Hell Machine is not one to let a silly thing like heroism succeed.

 

"NO chance!" Riley cackles.

 

The first huge, right-handed punch catches James in the stomach, doubling the rookie powerhouse over with a gasping wheeze. The second, left-handed punch hits him under the chin, jerking him upright once more. The Hell Machine snorts like an angry bull, and as Edward James' eyes refocus, all they see is black as Janus SLAMS a Knuckle Bomb right between the bigger Wayward Son's eyes! The stunning power of the world champion sends James reeling and stumbling backwards against the ropes, and the giant move to finish the job. He takes two steps forward, and the big boot cracks Edward in the jaw, sending him tumbling over the top rope.

 

Swinging around with a demonic grin on his face, the Hell Machine sees that Alan Clark is still on the mat, whimpering and holding his ribs. The smaller half of the Wayward Sons gallantly tries to pull himself upright, only to find himself assisted and whipped to the ropes by the world champino. As he comes flying back towards Janus, seeing those spread arms, Clark swallows hard. And puts all his strength, all his effort, into a desperation move. Leaping as high as he can to escape the Hell Crush, Alan Clark wraps his legs around the seven footer's neck for a hurricanrana.

 

His risky gamble doesn't pay off.

 

As he perches on the world champion's shoulders, Clark smiles almost wistfully and lifts a hand to wave to the crowd. The fans begin to boo, as the Hell Machine reaches up and grabs Clark's arms, pulling the smaller half of the Wayward Sons into a familiar position. The crowd hushes as they recognise what the Hell Machine is doing. Two words cross everyone's mind as Alan Clark is sent into the canvas.

 

*BAM*

 

Demonstar Driver.

 

Leaning all three hundred and sixty pounds over the crumpled body before him, the giant enjoys the uproarious boos raining down on him. On the outside, Edward James desperately tries to climb to his feet. The count is as academic as they come.

 

ONE.

...

....

.....

TWO.

...

....

.....

THREE.

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

Funyon's voice has none of its usual excitement.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner... the SWF World Heavyweight champion.....the Hell Machine, JANUS!"

 

"All that I know!

There was no god for me!

Force that shatters all!

Absence of humanity!"

 

The boos continue to pour down as the sound of Fear Factory's "Resurrection" blazes out of the speakers. Releasing the unmoving body of Alan Clark, Janus rolls away under the bottom rope and to the floor, moving towards the timekeeper's table. He strides past the half-risen form of Edward James, grabbing his trenchcoat and wrapping it around his shoulders. He lifts the world title almost reverently, staring at the shining gold between his hands.

 

"Citizen Janus gains the victory, perhaps ending Any chance the Wayward Sons have of a tag title shot. By using the most feared move in the federation."

 

"I'm beginning to doubt if anyone can take it from him... if he's willing to hit the Rage Unleashed... or that." Riley almost whispers.

 

As he strides around the ring, leaving the bodies of his opponents behind him, Janus begins to muse. Clark and Edward James were no Toxxic and Tom Flesher. But the number of men in the ring meant little to him. He had triumphed here, and he could easily triumph again. With the sound of "Resurrection" roaring through the air, the loathing of the fans in his ears, and blood covering his forehead, the Hell Machine was sure of one thing when he met those two in the ring.

 

It would be a battlefield unlike any he had traversed before. The Superior One, The Straight Edger, and the Hell Machine.

 

But he was, psychopathic or not, a warrior. Nathaniel Kibagami - Silent - had made sure of that.

 

And for the warrior, there would be only victory...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...or would there?

 

*******

SWF Lockdown.

Smartmarks Wrestling Federation™©

An Alexander Zenon Production

*******

[the.weej 0]

I have no real excuses for why the show is up this late. Sometimes, I flake, y'know? To make up for it, and Storm being the four-day show, you'll get an extra day to write.

 

As for the show itself, it looks pretty good, minus the two missing matches. I'll try to get the card up ASAP.

 

-Z