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SWF Storm returns from commercial, the cameras panning around the sold out HSBC Arena, the fans are on their feet and hyped as Storm prepares to properly kick off, the arena practically buzzing with anticipation. The cameras zoom over the fans for a few moments, drinking in the atmosphere of people who’re rabid for their next does of SWF action, signs and cheers being raised as the camera view pans over the sea of faces. Eventually the view switches back to the announcer’s table as Cyclone Comet and his partner Bobby Riley get ready to call the action.

 

“Hello everyone and welcome back to SWF Storm! I hope you’ve got your beverages at hand Citizens because you won’t want to miss one moment of Storm tonight!” says Comet enthusiastically, practically yelling into his headset, as hyped up as the fans at the beginning of the show.

 

“Including Landon Maddix crushing Johnny Dangerous with his mystery stipulation!” Riley says gleefully. “And I must say that nobody deserves it more than Johnny does!”

 

“Strong words Robert but Citizen Dangerous has proved himself many a time, he shall not give up as easily as you think!”

 

“I already told you Comet the writing is on the wall for that one. But even that is not the biggest match we have to offer tonight, our Main Event is something that has been brewing for a while now as we get to see Tom Flesher and Toxxic go at it one on one!”

 

“And Citizen Janus will be joining us on commentary for the duration of that match Robert.”

 

“Indeed he will Comet, I’ll have somebody interesting to talk to for a change.”

 

Before Comet can think of a witty retort the arena lights shut off, plunging the building into darkness. Cheers begin to rise from the fans as the Smarktron displays the crag of a mountain and an ominous voice blasts forth from the speakers.

 

"An overwhelming symbol of power..."

 

The opening strains of “Darkest Omen” begin to play over the speakers, two spotlights snapping on and targeting the entranceway revealing a large figure standing tall and gazing out at the arena. Edward James steps into the light and begins to walk down to the ring, his eyes intense, his ever step measured to the beat of his music as he strides down the aisle.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first! From Redwater, Alberta, Canada, and weighing in at 276lb! He is one half of the Wayward Sons. EDWARD JAMES!”

 

The crowd erupts into cheers once again as Funyon introduces Edward, the powerful young man finally arriving at ringside and wasting no time in climbing the steel ring steps. He pauses before he enters the ring, facing the fans and raising one arm slowly into the air, holding it there for a long moment before he turns back and steps into the ring readying himself for his opponent as the lights come back up.

 

“Citizen James is certainly looking focused tonight Robert.”

 

“And well he should be Comet. He and Alan Clark came up short on Smarkdown but fortunately for him he gets to beat up somebody smaller than he is tonight.”

 

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! Hailing from Svalbard, Norway! And weighing 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 drawing another wave of cheers from the fans. The music finally fades away and the arena lights come back up, both men gazing levelly at the other.

 

“This match should be interesting Robert, both of these men are young yes both possess a degree of experience. Citizen Everheart was victorious against Citizen Manson on Smarkdown but now he faces a different challenge in the form of Citizen James!”

 

Edward James turns to face his opponent as Funyon steps out of the ring and referee Eddy Long steps into the center checking the position of both men. Satisfied that nothing will start until he says so Long turns towards the Time Keeper and signals him to start the match.

 

 

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

 

 

Vlad and James circle each other slowly. The Corona looks up at his six foot seven foe, who simply watches back impassively, with a slight smile on his face. And with a shrug, Vlad leaps forward and begins throwing right hooks into his opponent's chest and head. The crowd pops for this, as the Corona continues throwing the right hands even as Edward James flings his own fist forward! The sheer force of the punch almost knocks Vlad clean off his feet, the Corona reeling from the brute strength of his opponent as James steps forwards to deliver another meaty punch into the masked head of his opponent, this time knocking Vlad down hard.

 

“Now THAT was not a smart move Comet.”

 

“Citizen Everheart trying to gain an early advantage over Citizen James but he is seriously outclassed on the strength scale!”

 

“No kidding Comet, James hits about as hard as Janus does, going toe to toe with him is not going to work!”

 

Vlad is quick to get back to his feet, only to be sent reeling backwards into the ropes by another huge punch from Edward James, Vlad slumps against the ropes for a moment shaking his masked head. James quickly closes in on his opponent and sends Vlad flying across the ring with a hard Irish Whip, the Corona bounces off the rope, ducking under Eddy J’s huge right boot and launching a dropkick at his opponent as he rebounds a second time.

 

Quick as Vlad is the attack doesn’t seem to come as a surprise to James, and one large hand swats away the Corona’s questing feet, letting the masked wrestler crash back down to the canvas after another fruitless attack. Vlad is once again quick to get back up to his feet but Eddy J is already on top of him, two huge arms lock around the waist of the Corona lifting him effortlessly off the mat and dropping him squarely on the back of his head with a huge German Suplex.

 

“German Suplex but Citizen James! And this match has barely even started!”

 

“That’s the problem with wrestling somebody as strong as James, he can bust out a hard hitting move like that whenever he gets his hands on you. Vlad had better move quick or James is going to peel him apart.”

 

Vlad rolls over onto his stomach, head spinning and easy prey for his powerful opponent who begins to enthusiastically stomp on such an easy target. Vlad’s body jerks as James’ boots come down time and time again, before the Corona quickly begins to roll away from his aggressor all the way out onto the apron. Grabbing the ropes Vlad quickly begins to pull himself up, Eddy James letting his opponent get back up to his feet before lunging forwards with a vicious Lariat.

 

Vlad sees that tree trunk like arm coming and quickly ducks, ramming his upper body between the top and middle rope and driving a shoulder into James’ gut, the sudden attack catches Eddy J off guard and he doubles up against the ropes from the blow. Lurching back to his feet Vlad cracks a Palm Strike squarely against the side of James’ head, sending the big man staggering back from the ropes.

 

“Citizen Everheart may be taking your advice Robert! Dubious as it is!”

 

Seizing the moment Vlad leaps up to the top rope and springboards off of it, angling his body to the side as he attempts to Crossbody Eddy J. While he’d get a 9 for effort Vlad gets a 0 for result as Eddy James neatly catches him, using the Corona’s own momentum to turn his Crossbody into a Powerslam, planting the masked wrestler squarely onto the mat, and quickly hooking a leg for the pin.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

“Two count but Vlad is going to have to do better than this Comet. I’m beginning to wonder if he’s ever faced a man as strong as Edward James before.”

 

Vlad manages a strong kickout and is slowly pulled back up to his feet as Edward James calmly prepares to issue more punishment until his masked adversary stays down for three. Another huge punch rattles Vlad’s head, but this time the Corona fights back, slamming a vicious knife-edge chop directly at Eddy J’s throat. The big man flinches and merely crashes another punch into the masked head in front of him, Vlad staggers all the way back to the ropes from this second blow only to come roaring back at James with a huge Running Palm Strike.

 

Vlad’s hand smacks James squarely in the forehead and THAT finally seems to do some damage as the big man takes a step backwards, swaying on his feet. A swift kick to the gut brings Eddy J’s head to a more advantageous level that Vlad uses to his advantage by finally taking James off of his feet with a Spinning Neckbreaker.

 

“Finally! Its about goddamn time.” Says an exasperated Riley.

 

“You should give Citizen Everheart more of a chance Robert.”

 

“Why? He got lucky in his first match and now he’s getting splattered across the canvas.”

 

Galvanized into action by this first small victory against the larger man Vlad grabs James by the head and pulls him up into a sitting position. Running back to the ropes the Corona delivers a stiff dropkick to the back of Eddy J’s head, the resounding smack drawing an “Ooooh!” of sympathy from the fans. James clutches at the back of his head after the impact but remains seated as Vlad scrambles back up, the Corona takes the open target offered too him and flips over the seated Eddy J, grabbing his head and snapping it forwards before he lands on the canvas.

 

“Rolling Neck Snap by Citizen Everheart!”

 

“After a disgusting dropkick Comet! Finally this kid is using he head. He can’t match him strength for strength but he may just be able to break James down piece by piece. The neck is a very fragile part of the body Comet, and it can be exploited just as easily.”

 

Vlad seems to agree with Riley as he pulls Eddy J up into a sitting position once again, crouching behind the big man and driving his knee into the spine of opponent as he applies a facelock, cinching it in tightly as James begins to struggle to free himself. Unfortunately for Vlad Eddy J’s long legs are within reach of the ropes and it doesn’t take him long to place a foot on the bottom rope. Eddy Long quickly demands that Vlad break the hold, and after a long moment he does, standing back up and stamping down hard at the back of Eddy J’s neck.

 

James weathers the storm of abuse coming his way, his head nodding involuntarily as each kick connects solidly with the back of his neck only worsening the fledgling work that Vlad has started. Shying away from those hard kicks Eddy J quickly climbs back up to his feet only to walk straight into Vlad’s arms. The Corona quickly slaps a Facelock on his larger opponent before leaping up and scissoring his legs around Eddy J’s waist, the sudden shift in weight dragging James forwards, DDT’ing him head first on the mat as Vlad quickly tightens his grip.

 

“Guillotine Choke!” Comet says, having to shout over the sudden cheers of the fans as they chant support for both Edward James and Vlad alike.

 

“Smart move keeping straight on the neck, but Vlad had better watch out. I didn’t compare Eddy James’ strength to Janus for nothing.”

James’ arms flail for a moment as Vlad continues to tighten his grip, trying to crush the life out of his opponents throat, Eddy long is by the side of the two men yelling at James to ask him if he wants to give it up, carefully watching both of the big mans hands for an answer. The seconds grind on, yet James refuses to give in, finally planting both hands on the mat he starts to push himself back up, first to his knees and then slowly to his feet, his whole body bent downwards as Vlad still stubbornly refuses to break the hold. Eddy J’s huge hands circle around the waist of the Corona and the big man shows off the extent of his prodigious strength as he dead lifts his opponent clean off the mat.

 

“What an impressive show of strength by Citizen James!”

 

“But he hasn’t got rid of Vlad just yet Comet!”

 

Edward James locks his hand vice like behind Vlad’s back and then quickly begins to pull them inwards, the Corona arching his back as his opponent locks in a powerful bear hug. Vlad shakes his head violently as Eddy Long now asks HIM if he wants to give it up, the Corona not releasing his hold even as the pressure on his back increases until Eddy J charges blindly forwards, driving Vlad back first into a corner.

 

The sudden impact loosens Vlad’s grip just enough for Eddy J to slip his head free of that vice like arm, keeping his arms tightly clasped around the body and back of the Corona James hurls himself backwards, releasing his hold and tossing Vlad head over heels with a Belly to Belly Suplex. The Corona lands hard and before he can do anything James is on top of him, hooking his right leg as he tries for another pinfall.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

Vlad still manages a strong kickout much to the displeasure of Edward James who grabs the masked wrestler by the hair and drags him back upright. Kicking Vlad savagely in the gut he shoves the masked wrestlers head between his legs, leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around the smaller mans waist. With one mighty heave Vlad leaves the canvas once again and finds himself perched on Eddy J’s shoulders before the big man Powerbomb’s him into the mat with such force that he bounces a good four inches into the air after the initial impact.

 

“What a Powerbomb by Citizen James! He almost drove Citizen Everheart through the ring!”

 

“And he’s got him covered Comet this is it!”

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

At the last possible instant Vlad’s shoulder leaves the canvas, it isn’t much of a kickout after such a huge impact but it is enough to make the sharp eyed Eddy Long thrust two fingers in the air at the time keeper and the fans to come alive once again as Vlad is still in the game.

 

“Citizen Everheart got the shoulder up!”

 

“I question the logic of that Comet now Eddy j is just going to hurt him some more!”

 

Edward James is surprised that the Powerbomb didn’t get the pinfall, but he does not distract himself by questioning the referee, instead he climbs doggedly back to his feet, reaching down to grab Vlad by the hair once more. Pulling the smaller man back up, Eddy J once again pushes Vlad’s head between his legs; the big man wraps his arms around Vlad’s waist once again and hoists him back up to his shoulders.

 

Vlad’s time is running out and as James lifts him back up to his shoulders the Corona reacts the only way he can, desperation lending him strength as he breaks free of Eddy J’s strong grip. His right arm flashes up to snap another Facelock on his opponent as he begins to fall back to the mat, his legs once again scissoring around the waist of the big man before his bodyweight drags Eddy J back down to the mat in another Guillotine Choke!

 

“And Citizen Everheart escapes what would have been surefire defeat!”

“He’s not out of the woods yet Comet, James escaped that choke before and he can do it again!”

 

Sure enough Edward James is fighting the hold with everything that he has, the strong arm pressing around his throat restricting the flow oxygen through his body, slowly leaching at his strength. James plants his hands once more, forcing his huge body upright, knowing that if he can stand up he will have another chance at defeating his masked adversary. The big man’s arms lock around Vlad’s waist and he slowly dead lifts the smaller man once again, pulling him off the floor and up into the air, but Vlad has learnt from his previous mistake.

 

As James pulls him up the Corona’s legs suddenly release their hold on his waist, his feet hitting the canvas for a brief second, the sudden lack of weight unbalancing his huge opponent. Seizing the moment Vlad jumps up and quick scissors his legs in once again, his weight dragging the big man down to the canvas and smacking his head against the mat with a hard DDT for a third time.

 

“Citizen Everheart saw through Citizen James plan Robert!”

 

“He’s still got the Choke cinched in tight! This has to be it Comet!”

 

Vlad holds on as tight as he can as Eddy James slowly shifts beneath him, the big man slowly getting his feet underneath him once again as he tries to rise one more time.

 

“What a valiant effort from Citizen James! He’s still fighting Citizen Everheart every step of the way!”

 

Edward James tries to push himself back up to his feet, to shake Vlad off of him and finish the match, but the choke has done its work. His limbs are leaden, his vision is darkening, and his strength is all but gone. Edward James finally slumps down to the canvas, referee Eddy Long grabs his right arm lifting it up and letting it drop, watching as it hits the mat limp.

 

Once.

 

Long dutifully picks up the arm again and drops it once more.

 

Twice.

 

Long signals the Time Keeper of the second non-reaction and lets the hand drop one last time.

 

Thrice.

 

 

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

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen! The winner of the match! “THE CORONA!” VLADIMIR EVERHEART!”

 

Vlad finally relinquishes his hold on Edward James, slumping back down to the canvas as Dimmu Borgir’s “Mourning Palace” hits the arena speakers once more, the cheers of the fans music to his ears as his chest heaves from the effort required to slay the giant pitted against him.

 

“And Citizen Everheart is victorious Robert! Citizen James has nothing to be ashamed of tonight! He fought to the last and refused to give up!”

 

“Until he ran out of air.” Riley says snidely.

 

“Do not cheapen his effort Robert! Have a little bit of class I beg you!”

 

Eddy Long raises Vlad’s right hand to the cheers of the fans, the masked wrestler bowing his head slightly in thanks before he makes his way to the ropes, finding the energy to vault over the top and land smoothly on the floor he begins to make his way back up the ramp, slapping a few hands as he goes.

 

“What effort by both men Robert! Is there any better way to start the show off than this?!”

 

“Well I could think of…”

 

“Rubbish Robert! Rubbish! Stay tuned good citizens because this was just a taster of things still to come tonight! We are heading to commercial once more but stay tuned as the returning Andrea Montgomery shall take on the Birdman next!”

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Earlier today:

 

Birdman and his agent Michael Anderson are seated in the Commissioner’s office directly across from the SWF Interim Commissioner Alex Zenon.

 

“Mister Zenon,” begins Anderson, “I must protest on behalf of my client to the matches that he has been booked in to this point!”

 

Zenon looks mildly irritated. “You’ve been here for all of a week! What’s wrong with the matches that you’ve been booked in?”

 

“My client feels that the matches that he’s been booked in to this point could potentially cause him to be cast in a negative light, and he is very self-conscious about his image,” replies Anderson.

 

Zenon’s irritation gives way to confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“It’s quite simple, really,” says Anderson. “By booking him first to compete against Petey the Irish Penguin, a demonstrative fan favorite, and tonight against Andrea Montgomery, a very popular returning IGNWF legend, he feels as though the SWF is attempting to misrepresent him a someone who fights against the good guys. A… what’s the word…” Birdman leans over and whispers into his ear. “Ah, yes. A heel. My client is concerned that you are trying to misrepresent him as a heel.”

 

Zenon furrows his brow, choosing his words carefully before replying. “Mister Anderson, I assure you and your client that the SWF is making no conscious effort to misrepresent him, or to portray him as someone contrary to whatever image he would like to cultivate here in the SWF. We will make an effort to accommodate him whenever practical, but now what you both need to understand is that I have to book matches for our television shows, I have a responsibility as Commissioner to take many more things into consideration than making sure that every match is in a face/heel format. The two of you need to understand that if I have to book you to wrestle against another face, that it’s not due to any conscious effort to ruin your client’s image, but because of other factors that I also have to take into consideration. Is that clear?”

 

Anderson leans over towards Birdman and the two engage in a brief whispered conversation. “Mister Zenon, my client is agreeable to that. He understands the responsibilities that you have to contend with, and he respects your authority. He just wanted to be assured that there wasn’t any kind of deliberate effort on the SWF’s part to mischaracterize him as a heel.”

 

Zenon leans back in his chair. “Well, now that that issue has been settled, is there anything else that I can do for you gentlemen?”

 

Birdman leans over into Anderson’s ear and whispers something. “Yes, Mister Zenon. My client would like to know whether or not you’d had any time to consider his other request?”

 

Zenon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Look, fellas, that’s not really how the SWF works. Rookies are hardly in a position to call their own matches. And besides, some of the people on this list are title holders; I can’t just put him into a title match without him having to go up the rankings like everyone else.”

 

“Oh, my client isn’t concerned with getting a title shot against those particular individuals,” replies Anderson. “He’d just like the opportunity to compete against them.”

 

Zenon furrows his brow again. “You mean to tell me that he has no interest in winning any titles here in the SWF?”

 

Anderson shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. It’s not that he doesn’t want to win a title, but that’s a long-range goal for him right now. My client has expressed a strong interest in getting to compete against a few of these men in particular. He doesn’t care if it’s a non-title match; he just wants to get into the ring with them.”

 

Zenon looks back and forth between the two men skeptically. “Why? Have you been hired by someone to go after these men?”

 

Anderson glances nervously out of the corner of his eye before quickly turning his attention back to the Commissioner. “Mister Zenon, I can assure you that my client has not been contracted by any outside entity for the purpose of doing harm to any of your employees.”

 

Zenon continues to look at Anderson skeptically, but declines to say what’s on his mind. “Okay, let’s suppose that I take you at your word; the answer is still no. You have to work your way up to get to wrestle against these guys. Come see me again in about a month, and maybe we can discuss the matter further.”

 

Birdman leans over into his agent’s ear and whispers something. “Very well, Mister Zenon. My client and I thank you for your time.” He and Birdman stand up and head for the door. As he is exiting, Anderson looks back over his shoulder as Zenon, saying, “I’ll be in touch,” before closing the door behind him.

 

Zenon stares at the empty space where Anderson and Birdman once occupied and drums his fingers pensively on his chin. “What the hell is going on here,” he wonders. “Do I have a hitman on my hands?”

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“Welcome back to Storm, ladies and gentlemen,” Cyclone Comet says excitedly. “Earlier this week on Smarkdown, the Birdman made his SWF debut with an impressive win over Petey the Irish Penguin. Tonight, he gets the chance to build on that success, but he’s going to have to defeat a returning IGNWF legend in Andrea Montgomery.”

 

“That’s right,” adds Bobby Riley. “Andrea is a former Light Heavyweight Champion, as well as a former Tag Team Champion; she knows her way around the ring, and even though it’s been years since she’s competed at this level, I think that she may hold a slight edge over the Birdman tonight.”

 

“Citizen Montgomery has a very unorthodox style, indeed,” agrees Comet. “I think that this match is going to be a little of a push, but I wouldn’t count the Birdman out, Bobby; he’s got the kind of raw athletic ability that doesn’t come around very often!”

 

Funyon steps to the center of the ring and raises the microphone to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a ten-minute time limit!” With those words, the Black Eyed Peas’ hit song “Let’s Get Retarded” begins to play, and the crowd starts to cheer! Through the middle of the opening verse, the Birdman jumps from behind the curtain onto the stage, doing the Funky Chicken as the fans begin to clap in time to the song. “Coming down to the ring at this time,” continues Funyon, “from parts unknown, weighing in at two hundred nineteen pounds, the Birdman!” Birdman greets several fans alongside the barricade as he makes his way down the ramp and then slides underneath the bottom rope to enter the ring. He quickly scrambles to his feet and rushes to a nearby corner, where he ascends to the middle rope and cheerfully poses in “flight” for the fans.

 

“It will be most interesting to see how the fans react to Birdman tonight,” ponders Comet. “He seems to be fairly well liked, but back on Smarkdown he was paired up against the incredibly popular Petey the Irish Penguin, and tonight he’ll have to compete against one of the more popular wrestlers ever to step into the ring!”

 

Birdman climbs down from the ropes and removes his “wings,” handing them to the ring attendant as his music fades out. Suddenly, the lights dim and a hush briefly falls over the HSBC Arena, until…

 

BOOM!

 

The stage explodes into pillars of green pyro streams, with green sparks falling gently back towards the stage, and the arena gets bathed in green light as No Doubt’s “Just a Girl” begins to play:

 

“Take this pink ribbon off my eyes,

I'm exposed,

And it's no big surprise.

Don't you think I know

Exactly where I stand?

This world is forcing me

To hold your hand…”

 

At this exact moment, Andrea Montgomery bursts out onto the stage! The Buffalo fans erupt into cheers, chanting Andrea’s name as she bounds across the stage, pumping her fists excitedly!

 

“'Cause I'm just a girl, little 'ol me,

Don't let me out of your sight.

I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite,

So don't let me have any rights.”

 

“His opponent,” says Funyon cheerfully as Andrea makes her way down the ramp, “is an IGNWF legend who is making her grand return here tonight! She is a former IGNWF Tag Team Champion, as well as a two-time former IGNWF Light-Heavyweight Champion! From Biloxi, Mississippi, weighing in at one hundred and forty-three pounds, a member of the Wild Cards, ANDREA MONTGOMERY!”

 

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

 

Andrea responds happily to the fans’ warm reception, shaking hands with the fans at ringside as she makes her way down the ramp, even stopping to pose with a few fans that wore “Wild Card” shirts to the arena.

 

“Listen to the reception for Andrea Montgomery,” shouts Comet, as Funyon exits the ring. “It would seem that her absence has only made the hearts of the fans here in Buffalo grow fonder! What an amazing reaction from the crowd!”

 

“I have to admit,” agrees Riley, as Andrea reaches ringside and climbs onto the apron, “these fans are really into Andrea Montgomery. There’s no question who’s side the crowd is going to be on tonight!”

 

“Absolutely,” says Comet. “Unless Citizen Birdman is able to do something spectacular to get the crowd behind him right off the bat, it’s going to be an uphill climb for him!” Andrea grabs onto the top rope and uses it to propel herself into the ring. She turns and waves to the fans once more with a big smile on her face, and they all give her a standing ovation!

 

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

 

“Can you tell that she’s happy to be back,” asks Comet mirthfully. “Just a Girl” fades out and Drea walks towards the center of the ring, offering her hand in a gesture of sportsmanship, which Birdman happily accepts as referee Matthew Kivell motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Bell’s gone,” says Comet, “and this match is officially underway!” Birdman and Drea circle each other before coming together in the center of the ring, where Andrea quickly takes advantage, floating her left arm over to meet her right and trapping Birdman in an arm wringer that briefly forces him to one knee. Birdman quickly gets back to his feet, but Drea twists his arm around and forces him back down to the mat. In order to alleviate the pressure, Birdman rolls forward onto his shoulders, gets to his knees and rolls forward again, using his free hand to help him handspring to his feet and surprises Montgomery by reversing the arm wringer, planting his forearm just below her armpit to maintain control as he transitions into a hammerlock.

 

Andrea subtly backs him up against the edge of the ring as she reaches back with her free hand to try and grab hold of something, which she finally does as she gets her hand behind Birdman’s head and pulls down hard. Birdman snaps back up quickly out of reflex, and lifts Drea into the air in the process, who is still holding onto the back of Birdman’s head and abruptly snatches him off of the mat, tossing him forward with a spectacular snapmare takeover! Birdman allows his momentum to take him underneath the bottom rope and out of the ring, and he gathers himself out on the arena floor as Drea stands triumphantly inside the ring.

 

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

 

“Good wrestling and counter-wrestling sequence to open up the match,” notes Comet. “Andrea’s not showing any ring rust yet, and right now, her experience has given her an slight advantage.” The fans continue to chant Andrea’s name as Birdman slides underneath the bottom rope to re-enter the ring, and gets back to his feet. The two meet in the center of the ring once more…

 

CRACK!

 

… And Drea again takes advantage, this time with a sudden and sharp kick to the midsection that drops Birdman down to one knee. Drea quickly draws closer and traps Birdman in a side-headlock. Birdman works himself back up to his feet and backs Andrea against the ropes before launching her across the ring. Andrea bounces off the ropes and charges directly into Birdman with a shoulderblock, but is unable to move her much heavier opponent. Instead, she runs towards the opposing ropes and back towards the center of the ring, where Birdman leapfrogs into the air as she rebounds. Birdman falls to the mat as Andrea runs to the opposite ropes and lifts his feet into the air to deliver a monkey flip, but she anticipates this tactic, leaping onto the second rope and springing back off, flipping backwards to fly over Birdman’s waiting legs, and landing on her feet in front of him. Birdman rolls to his feet and rushes towards her now, and she evades him by leapfrogging over his charge. Andrea falls towards the mat and attempts a monkey flip of her own, but Birdman evades it in similar fashion, flipping backwards over the top of Montgomery to emerge on his feet in front of her.

 

Andrea gets to her feet and rushes towards Birdman, but he surprises her with a drop toehold that takes her down. He gets back to his feet and rushes towards the edge of the ring, but Andrea quickly gets back to her feet as well, and meets him as he rebounds off the ropes, hooking her arm underneath his and sending him over and down with a hiptoss! Drea leaps into the air as Birdman leaps to his feet to deliver a dropkick, but Birdman deftly avoids her, swatting her legs aside as she falls back to the mat. He runs over to where she lands and begins to pick her up, but Andrea suddenly surprises him with an armdrag takeover that sends him scooting across the ring! Andrea scrambles to her feet and rushes back across the ring, but Birdman quickly pops up, taking advantage of the veteran’s momentum to take her down with an armdrag of his own! Both wrestlers simultaneously use a handspring to return to their feet, and quickly turn to face each other. Andrea smiles and claps her hands together, acknowledging her competitor’s speed, with Birdman presumably doing the same underneath his mask as the crowd begins to cheer loudly!

 

“What a tremendous sequence of moves that was,” exclaims Comet. “Both competitors are putting their speed and athleticism on full display here tonight; it’s like watching the Flash take on Quicksilver!”

 

“They both seem to be taken a little off-guard,” observes Riley. “Clearly, neither wrestler is used to competing against someone who can move as quickly as they can!”

 

“Well, you may have a point there, Bobbo,” agrees Comet. “You’re not going to find any other wrestlers in the SWF today that are as fast as Andrea Montgomery and the Birdman!” Birdman and Andrea approach each other in the center of the ring once more, and Drea catches him again with a quick kick to the ribs, but this time she follows it up with four quick palm strikes to the face and then suddenly leaps into the air…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Planting her feet into Birdman’s mug with a dropkick and flipping backwards as he falls to the mat. Andrea gets up shaking wrist as Birdman slowly rolls to his knees, holding his head.

 

“Nice Coastal Combo by Andrea to try to establish some control in this match,” praises Comet.

 

“But look at her holding her wrist after those Shotei to the face,” barks Riley. “It’s just like I told you back on Smarkdown, Comet, that guy’s mask is loaded!” Andrea grabs Birdman by the neck and pulls him to his feet, leading over to a nearby corner…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Where she bashes his head into the top turnbuckle! She quickly spins him around and presses his back against the turnbuckles before she takes her non-tender hand and blasts Birdman with a hard knife-edge chop to the chest!

 

 

CHOP! WHOOO!

CHOP! WHOOO!

 

Drea then grabs the Bird by the wrist and whips him across the ring to the opposite corner, where he crashes back-first into the turnbuckles. Andrea rushes in after him but Birdman quickly lowers his shoulder, lifting Drea off the mat and over the top rope! Andrea doesn’t fall to the floor, though, as she grabs onto the top rope as she’s going out and steers herself onto the ring apron. Birdman spins around and tries to knock her off the apron, but Andrea blocks his punch with her left hand and sends him stumbling backwards with a quick right jab. Sensing her opportunity, Andrea climbs onto the top turnbuckle as Birdman stumbles towards the center of the ring, and runs across the top rope, sliding to about the midway point and then springing into the ring…

 

 

BAM!

 

 

… Twisting around to nail Birdman with a spinning back elbow from the top rope! Birdman slides out of the ring to recover as Andrea gets to her feet, accepting the chants from the crowd:

 

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

 

“Grind Session by Andrea Montgomery,” shouts Comet, “that ended in a back elbow that sent Birdman all the way out of the ring! I tell you, Citizen Riley, there really doesn’t appear to be any rust on Drea at all!” Birdman starts to turn back towards the ring, just in time to see Andrea diving towards him feet-first…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And nailing him in the face with a baseball slide that sends him into the barricade! Feeling like she’s in a zone, Andrea runs to the corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle while Birdman gets back to his feet outside the ring. She waits until he’s completely upright before leaping gracefully from the top, twisting her body around in midair…

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… Before crashing into Birdman with a sensational Sky Twister Press!

 

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

 

Drea pulls Birdman to his feet and whips him across the arena floor towards the barricade, but the Bird spins sharply around on his heel and reverses the whip, sending Andrea to crash chest-first into the barricade, and then suddenly rushes in after her, leaping into the air…

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… And crashing into her with a running Stinger Splash that crushes Andrea’s chest against the unforgiving barricade! Birdman flops down onto his BUTT and tries to recover as Drea begins to gasp awkwardly, finding it difficult to breathe after two successive moves that knocked the wind out of her.

 

“Andrea makes her first big mistake of the match, and Birdman makes her pay for it, big time,” notes Riley. Birdman pulls Andrea to her feet and rolls her underneath the bottom rope back into the ring. He climbs back onto the ring apron as she returns to her feet and leaps onto the top rope, quickly springing off and blasting her in the chest with a missile dropkick! Drea slides across the ring from the force of the blow and the Bird continues to press his attack, running across the ring and stepping back onto the apron, where he uses the top rope to launch himself back into the ring and land on the opposing middle rope, springing backwards into the ring to crash into Andrea’s chest with a springboard moonsault!

 

“Springboard moonsault by the Birdman,” shouts Comet, as Kivell dives into position. “And we’ve got our first pin attempt of the match!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

Andrea gets her shoulder up before the three count, but just barely. Birdman pulls her to her feet and traps her in a standing headscissors. He bends down to wrap both hands around her waist and lifts her up suddenly as if to deliver a powerbomb, but Drea uses her flexibility to swing her legs off of his shoulders and fall towards the mat in front of him, snaring his head in a front facelock as she falls down…

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

 

… To plant him face-first into the mat with a devastating DDT! Birdman rolls over onto his back, in prime position to be covered, but Andrea flops onto her stomach, still struggling to regain her breath after the previous attacks.

 

 

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

 

“Beautiful reversal by Andrea Montgomery into that DDT,” shouts Comet. “Citizen Drea demonstrated the speed of Hermes and the wisdom of Minerva in executing that counter!”

 

“Yeah,” agrees Riley,” but now she really needs to try and pin Birdman before he can get his offense going again!” Andrea finally manages to crawl over to Birdman and flops an arm across his chest, prompting referee Kivell to drop down to count the pinfall:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR— NO!

 

 

“Birdman stays in the match with a last second kickout,” says Riley, “and now we need to see if Andrea can get back on the offensive!” Andrea beats Birdman to his feet and gets a running start as she tumbles forward, and springs up off of the mat before grabbing the Bird by the back of the head as she falls back down, jarring him with her patented Tuckerman and Roll jawbreaker! The force of the move causes Birdman to pop up off of the canvas and fall backwards to the mat, and Andrea moves over to cover him again, this time hooking the leg as Kivell drops down to check the shoulders:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

NO!

 

 

“Birdman just barely got the shoulder up,” shrieks Riley. “I thought that Drea might have had him!” Andrea pulls Birdman to his feet, but the Bird stuns her with a sudden kneelift to the midsection. He grabs her by the wrist and sends her rocketing into the corner, where her back crashes into the turnbuckles. He then rushes in after her, leaping into the air to deliver another Stinger Splash…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But Drea moves out of the way at the last second, and Birdman crashes headfirst into the top turnbuckle! As he staggers backwards out of the corner, Andrea springs into action, running up behind him and grabbing him by the waist, pulling him backwards into a schoolboy rollup!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE—

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

“Once again,” sighs Comet, “Birdman barely escapes losing with a last-second kickout!”  Andrea runs to the ropes as Birdman gets back to his feet and leaps high into the air, wrapping her legs around his neck before arching backwards and ripping the Bird through the air with a running Rana! She immediately gets back to her feet and runs towards the ropes as Birdman stands back up, leaping into the air behind him as she rebounds to land in a seated position on his shoulders, only to spin around to the front and once again trap him in a headscissors before taking him over in another scintillating Rana! Drea rolls out to the ring apron and pulls herself to her feet as Birdman starts to get back up. She then leaps onto the top rope and springs off as Birdman turns to face her, wrapping her legs around his neck a third time taking him over with a satellite Rana! This time, Birdman remains flat on the mat and Andrea pops to her feet to accept the adulation of the fans!

 

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

AN-DRE-A!

 

“Triple R by Andrea Montgomery,” shrieks Comet. “The Rana Rana Revolution! She’s got Birdman ripe for the pickings if she acts quickly!”

 

“Which it appears that she won’t, Comet,” answers Riley, noting Montgomery’s exuberant reaction to the crowd. “She just better be careful not to wait too long before she…” Riley’s voice is suddenly drowned out as Andrea gives the sign for the Done and Dusted!

 

“Well, Robert,” replies Comet, “It looks like she’s going to heed your advice! She just gave the sign for the Done and Dusted; if she hits this, it’s all over!” Drea pulls Birdman to his feet and positions him in front of her, but as soon as she reaches across his body, the Bird begins fighting for dear life, hammering Montgomery in the temple with a rapid series of headbutts until she releases her grip and reaches up to hold her own head. The second he’s free, Birdman grabs her by the seat of the pants and the back of the neck, leading her over towards the corner and throwing her fiercely underneath the bottom rope…

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

 

… Where she slides underneath the bottom turnbuckle and collides chest-first into the solid steel ringpost! Birdman immediately takes a running start and dives towards the corner feet-first…

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

 

… Smashing into her back with a running dropkick that further crushes her chest against the ringpost!

 

“I knew she was taking too much time,” scoffs Riley. “She stalled just long enough to allow Birdman to get a second wind, and now it’s going to cost her!” Birdman pulls Andrea out of the corner and applies a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

NO!

 

“Foot on the ropes,” sighs Comet. “Andrea once again shows her experience by getting her foot on the ropes! She’s still in this match!” Birdman pulls Andrea to her feet and grabs her by the wrist to whip him across the ring, but she reverses into and arm wringer, before she kicks his leg out from underneath him as she jams the point of her elbow into the back of Birdman’s neck…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Driving Birdman face first into the canvas with the Magnolia Bloom! Kivell checks on the status of both wrestlers and begins to deliver a ten count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

“Magnolia Bloom by Andrea Montgomery levels the playing field,” shouts Comet. “The next person to get a big move off stands a good chance of winning this match!” Both wrestlers get to their feet at the referee’s five count and start exchanging punches. Drea is the first to gain an advantage with a kick to the midsection that doubles the Bird over, and then traps him in a side headlock before making a dash towards the corner. She runs up the turnbuckles and leaps over the top rope, falling down to the arena floor as she drops Birdman throat-first across the top rope, sending him falling backwards onto the mat!

 

“Andrea scores on the Bulldog Hangman,” reports Riley, “but she’s been slowed down by the damage she’s sustained over the course of this match! She’d better hope that she can get back into the ring to finish him off before he can recover!” Andrea pulls herself up to the ring apron and, seeing Birdman still lying motionless on the mat, heads over to the corner where she climbs to the top turnbuckle. She leaps fearlessly into the ring where she begins to tumble and twist in midair to crash into Birdman with a 630º Senton!

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But Birdman rolls towards the corner out of the way, and Drea crashes back-first into the mat! The Bird quickly scrambles to his feet and runs over to Andrea, turning her over onto her stomach and wrapping his hands around her waist as he pulls her off of the mat and into a standing headscissors. With one fluid motion, he snatches her off of the mat and whips her around…

 

 

WHAM!

 

… Planting her into mat with a wicked snap powerbomb!

 

 

“Powerbomb,” shouts Riley. “He got the powerbomb he was looking for earlier! But can HE capitalize on his advantage, or will he make the same mistake that Drea did earlier?” As if to answer his question, Birdman staggers out onto the ring apron and over to the corner, climbing up to the top rope. He leaps from the top rope with barely any hesitation…

 

 

 

SPLASH!

 

… And crashes into Andrea’s chest with his patented flying sit-down splash!

 

 

“Bird Dropping,” exclaims Comet. “He hit her with the Bird Dropping! I think that’s going to do it!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

Andrea plants her feet to try a last-second kickout…

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

… But can’t generate enough force to get her shoulders off of the mat in time…

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“Let’s Get Retarded” begins to play once again as referee Kivell motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell. He walks back over to Birdman and raises his hand in victory. Funyon rises from his ringside seat and raises the microphone back to his lips. “Here is your winner… The BIRDMAN!”

 

“Another impressive victory for the Birdman,” says Comet. “This young man is quickly making a name for himself here in the SWF! Only time will tell how far he’ll be able to go. We’ll be right back with more SWF Action, right after this!”

 

Birdman crawls over to Andrea to check on her, and helps her to her feet as Storm goes to commercial.

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"Folks for this next match-up we take you to the house of Pi Kappa Phi, with the Hardcore Championship Belt on the line as Ryan "Real Deal" Dustin is set to take on Martin "Big Country" Hunt, in what is sure to be a real violent match!" begins Comet as he is seen sitting beside the eager waiting Riley who can't wait to see how Martin does in this match.

 

"Those Pi Kapps are going to tear up that lousy hardcore champ Ryan Dustin!"

 

"Lousy!?! Ryan Dustin is a real role-model to look up to, he is a very dedicated, crowd-loving hero, besides when in the world did you start cheering for fraternities?"

 

"Hey fraternities have been corrupting college students for years-- beer, chicks, parties, sex-- what's not to like?"

 

The images on the Titan-Tron quickly cut to a large looming white three story house, which is held up by four fancy upper-class pillars.  The dark royal blue fraternity letters of Pi Kappa Phi are seen and an open wooden oak door dominates the appearance of a young looking referee who is wearing a Pi Kapp Lettered stripped shirt.  Coming into the frame walks Martin Hunt who is wearing a shirt saying "Your Gold is Mine" with his usual blue jeans and heavy work boots.  Loud blaring country music and classic rock are blaring within the house as Martin is holding an old wooden Louisville slugger in his right hand smacking it against his left awaiting his opponent.

 

BOOOOOOOO!!!

 

"Oh that's not right!  How can Martin have his own referee for this match?  It's clearly going to be a slap to the face of good!"

 

"He gets whatever he wants after Maddix and Hunt dominated Dustin and Dangerous that last match.  This is a result of hard work paying off for Hunt as he well deserves this title shot!"

 

:Sarcastically: "Title shot!  The young gun's already had one failed attempt, how many must this fresh star get!"

 

Suddenly on the screen a black Ford pick up truck pulls up to the Pi Kappa Phi house with Nerd's "Outlaw" blaring over the car speakers.  A ladder is easily visible in the bed of the truck but the driver is not visible in the darkened window tint.

 

"I'm an OUTLAW!"

 

The door opens and out steps Ryan Dustin with the hardcore title strung over his shoulder...

 

"QUICK ON THE DRAW!!"

 

YEEEAAAAAA!! :loud cheers bust through the music from the fans in the arena as they continue to watch:

 

Dustin cuts off his truck and grabs the ladder from the bed of the truck carrying it under one arm, title over the other with a solid look of focus as he walks towards the fraternity house, suddenly the young Pi Kapp ref known only as Ponch rings a small bell signaling for the start of this match.  Dustin is knocked down to the ground as two fraternity brothers nail Dustin from behind with a metal trashcan denting the side of the can in.  Dustin drops the ladder and the title as the two fraternity brothers continue kicking away at Dustin like a duo of crooked cops on Rodney King.

 

::Boos are heard throughout the arena disapproving of the match stipulation already::

 

"Dustin is going to need to face this adversity in the face and really stand up for justice in this match!"

 

"Justice!? I think Dustin's learning a little "Fraternal" justice from two of Hunt's fraternity brothers... oh man look at this!"

 

Riley is cut off as the images show Hunt running in and slamming the baseball bat down upon Ryan's right knee causing Dustin to groan in pain and hold his knee...

 

BOOO!

 

"Get'R Done Hunt!  Work on that knee just like Maddix was teaching you!"

 

"Oh what a vicious shot! Come on Referee Ponch break that up...”

 

Hunt puts the bat down momentarily as he strongly kicks away at fallen champion with his other two fraternity brothers.  Hunt grabs Dustin's throbbing knee of pain and begins wailing on it with right hands...

 

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE!

 

Five hard punches and Martin grabs Ryan's legs to place him in a figure four.  While extending Dustin the two fraternity brothers maul and assault Dustin's exposed body with kicks and punches as Martin cringes to get maximum pressure on the leg lock.  Referee Ponch is slow to go in and check on Ryan as he waits momentarily before he seems to be somewhat "fair" and tells Martin to break the leg lock soon.  Another fifteen seconds of pain is seen on Dustin's face as the Hardcore Champ's face is red from struggling to maintain composure during this brutal leg lock before Hunt releases the hold.

 

"No super-hero powers can save your fallen champion now!"

 

"Come-on Dustin!"

 

Cockily Hunt walks away into the fraternity house to search for more objects of fun as his two frat henchmen start to drag Dustin towards the front porch and out of the beer can ridden front yard.  Suddenly, Ryan gets a burst of energy...

 

YEAAAAH!!!

 

..as he grabs the legs out from under one of the frat boys and slamming him down hard on his back as the other is stunned from Ryan's recovery.  Stumbling to his legs, Ryan holds his right knee as he slightly limps to the shocked brother and knocks him down easily with a European uppercut.  With both brothers on the ground Dustin limps towards the front porch, cautiously peering towards the open front door leading into the dark Pi Kappa Phi house.

 

“Anything could be awaiting Citizen Dustin within that treacherous household of fraternal corruption!”

 

Looking into the house Dustin limps into the door way planning out his attack on Martin...

 

WHACK!

 

A fraternity composite comes crashing over Ryan’s head as the frame remains stuck around his head like a wooden necklace.  Dustin falls to the wooden porch floor as Hunt lurches out of the doorway smiling at his success.  Hunt sees his brothers on the ground and shakes his head in disapproval before taking Skull can of dip from his pocket and pinching a big piece of tobacco under his bottom lip.

 

“Now that’s a role model, he can simultaneously dip and wrestle at the same time! I don’t even think you can chew gum and walk at the same time Cyclone...”

 

Grabbing Ryan by his hair, Martin drags him into the fraternity house as blood begins to drip off of Dustin’s forehead from the broken glass that remains embedded in his forehead.

 

SMACK!

 

Dustin reaches out and connects with a long right arm to the “Southern Territories” of Martin Hunt causing Hunt to fall to his knees in total surprise.

 

YYEEEAAAA!

 

“Dustin is now mounting some offense after a brutal opening beating by the hands of Martin; it must be his strong perseverance that keeps showing fans why he is the Hardcore Champion.”

 

Dustin slowly climbs to his feet and seizes his opportunity to attack Hunt for the first time by bulldogging him onto a wooden coffee table that easily snaps under the weight and force of Dustin’s slam to Hunt’s body.  Holding his right knee, Dustin grabs a dazed Hunt and slings him into a big forty-eight inch RCA TV.  Hunt flies through the protective glass causing a loud shattering noise and blood to emerge from Hunt’s back after the whip-lash like impact on the screen.

 

YEAAAAAA!

 

”Dustin cheated with that low-blow!  Where is referee Ponch?  And you call him a defender of good?  Suuuure…”

 

“He is defending that title against the evil foe-like tendencies of Martin who would taint the title!!”

 

Dustin pulls Martin out of the collapsed TV screen and picks him up for a suspended suplex— NO!  Martin is rescued by another fraternity brother who comes charging into the room and dives at the right knee of Dustin, causing Dustin to fall hard to the floor releasing Hunt.  The fraternity brother picks up Martin and helps him regain consciousness as Dustin holds his right knee and turns in pain to motion to referee Ponch about the obvious interference, but Ponch hasn’t seen a thing.  Hunt regains his feet and drags Dustin back up to his legs as well, as he drags the hobbling Ryan into the kitchen where he quickly scoop slams him down hard to the vinyl floor causing Dustin to not only grab his knee but motion towards his lower back in sudden pain.  Hunt picks up a bucket lying on the counter and pours out the contents onto the wooden table that serves more as a poker table than a dinner table.

 

“BOTTLE CAPS!!! Is that where the tuition money goes?!”

 

Thousands of beer bottles caps are mixed on the table as they spill from the bucket and Hunt smirks as he knows he needs to finish Dustin off quickly.  Dragging Ryan up to his feet, Martin confidently spits a wad of dip into Dustin’s face to mix in tobacco juice with the leaking blood.

 

BOOOO!

 

Martin cockily side-kicks Dustin in the right knee causing Ryan to hit the floor hard, as Hunt goes to the fridge and gets a beer bottle of Miller Lite out and begins to drink it.

 

“It’s a good time for a break, Dustin’s down, the table’s set up, and why not enjoy a cold one, this is just another reason why Hunt’s the man!”

 

Chugging to finish the bottle, Martin pays no attention to the slowly rising Ryan who is holding his knee steadily climbing to his feet.  Dustin charges in with a spear and knocks Martin back against the counter, causing beer to spill from his mouth and literally knock the wind out of him as Martin chokes for air.  Wiping the little bit of blood from his eyes and forehead, Ryan goes in for jumping side-kick that is dodged by Hunt and then countered with...

 

SMASH!

 

A beer bottle to the skull of Dustin, shattering not only the bottle but the hopes of Ryan's offense against the controlling Martin.  Dustin is down on the kitchen floor as Martin goes for a quick cover by rolling up a leg...

 

Referee Ponch gets down quick and slams the floor hard and fast...

 

ONE, TWO, THRE...

 

Dustin hardly gets a shoulder up in the quick count of Ponch.

 

“That was no where near a close count-that was the fastest count I have ever seen, it beats those boxing pay per views”

 

“Fast!? That was a slow count; it should be over, Hunt’s getting robbed here!”

 

“Robbed? I think Dustin may be getting robbed of his hardcore title, and it’s just not right, Ryan has worked so hard to obtain his gold and now some fraternity foe is cheating his way to the belt!”

 

Hunt gets up and yells at Ponch for a faster count next time as he spits the rest of his dip out on the back of Dustin.

 

BOOO! DISGUSTING!!!

 

Hunt drags Dustin over to the bottle cap laden table and places one arm around Dustin’s right knee, and

BAM!

 

A fisherman suplex through the table and bottle caps as Dustin snaps through the wooden table top and soars to the floor, Hunt keeps the leg hooked and goes for a quick pin.

 

Ponch again with the quick count...

 

ONE, TWO, THREE

 

No—last minute shoulder movement as Dustin isn’t ready to hand over his title just yet.  Frustrated, Hunt gets up and once again yells at Ponch demanding the match to be over with.  As the argument ensues and gets heated up, a fraternity brother comes and breaks up Hunt and Ponch as Ryan is starting to recover from the vicious suplex.

 

“Man what a great move, what power, what skill, what damage Hunt is doing to the so-called Hardcore Champ!”

 

“Hunt’s cheating ways will be his downfall; he can’t even get along with his own ref!  Good shall always prevail over the face of evil!”

 

Turning around to attempt to finish Dustin off once more, Hunt gets murdered by a huge clothesline that sends both men down to the broken table mess in the floor.  Grabbing his knee, Ryan uses the counter to get back on his feet as Martin sits up rubbing his neck from the clothesline.  Ryan limps away out of the kitchen as he stumbles and trips into the stair case going downstairs catching himself on the handrail.  Martin gets up and goes towards Dustin with a huge smirk on his face knowing what waits in the basement of Pi Kappa Phi.  Grabbing a frying pan off the nearby oven Hunt swings at the already bleeding head of Dustin.  Dustin ducks and instead counters with a Russian leg sweep that catches Hunt completely off guard and sends Hunt flying down the stairway towards the basement, rolling down the steps and groaning in pain as he finally stops upon hitting the cement wall where he lays holding his ribs. 

 

YEAAAH!

 

Slowly and carefully descending the steps, Ryan stumbles and limps down to Hunt.

 

*Commercial Break*

 

Got sore knees?  Sore joints?  Use Icy Hot to help relieve the pains of everyday living and get back to the way you used to be!

 

*End of Commercial Break*

 

Dustin picks the rib-cradling Hunt off the cement floor and slings him into the wooden DJ booth causing the walls to topple over and fall, along with the equipment, all over Hunt. 

 

YEAAHH!

 

The momentum from the move forces Dustin down to his good knee as his right knee can hardly support his weight after the beating it has taken tonight.  Ryan slowly limps towards the covered Hunt and goes for a pin...

 

Ponch slowly gets down and goes for a count...

 

Onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnne!

 

As to no surprise, Hunt kicks out and starts to regain his senses as Ryan glares at Ponch for the unfair pin count.

 

“This referee is thorn in the rose of righteousness!”

 

Ryan once again slowly gets back to his feet, holding his right knee and pulling Hunt up off the mat.  Dustin goes in for a grapple, but Hunt elbows the defending champ in the gut and then picks up a knocked over speaker and bashes it against Ryan’s right knee.  Dustin wails down to the mat and screams in pain as Martin smirks standing above the badly hurt Ryan.  Hunt walks away from the fallen champ and begins searching for weapons as the outside basement doors burst open with three Pi Kappa Phi brothers who begin kicking and pummeling Ryan with forearms.  Dustin curls up into a ball to protect himself as the brothers continue their mob-like beating to the hardcore resident.  Hunt breaks the men away from Ryan and picks him up in a sit down position before planting him back down to the cement floor...

 

SMACK!

 

A wooden fraternity paddle gets smacked across Ryan’s face busting in splinters as Dustin lies back on his back completely knocked out from the paddle shot.  Blood pours from Dustin’s forehead as Hunt stands above him towering with his left over broken paddle handle as he cockily puts one foot on Dustin’s chest for a pin, referee Ponch slides into position counting quick as normal...

 

ONE, TWO, THRE

 

The count gets interrupted as the basement doors swing wide open and a rival fraternity is seen with the letters TKE plastered across their chest.  Hunt picks his foot up breaking the pin and turns towards the rival group as all of Hunt’s brothers charge forward and begin assaulting the rival group.  Martin seems confused and frustrated as suddenly Martin gets impaled by a metal keg that is thrown from the rival fraternity and connects right on Martin’s forehead causing blood to pour out from the freshly opened cut.  Hunt is knocked out beside Dustin as the two lie on their backs dazed and out of it.

 

“Cover him Hunt!  He is done for!”

“Bobby I think Hunt is in the same situation as Dustin, the two are both laid up and knocked out as it wouldn’t take more than a simple pin to win this one!  It reminds me of a classic Superman comic where kryptonite weakens the almighty super one!”

 

“This isn’t a silly comic, this is a real dire situation as Hunt needs to pin Dustin, damn Tekes coming in here and ruining the Pi Kapps match!  What is Dustin affiliated with them?”

 

“I think they are just affiliated with the nature of good, justice, and pure integrity!”

 

Both sets of fraternities drift off into the distance, exiting through the basement doors leaving just Hunt and Dustin sprawled out on the floor in a pool of their own blood as referee Ponch just waits for the first one to attempt a pin.  Hunt begins to stir first as he exerts all his efforts to putting one arm over Dustin’s chest with hardly any pressure at all, referee Ponch counts again..

 

ONE, TWO, THREE

 

No, a last second twitch causes Dustin’s shoulders to rise off the ground as Ponch himself is shocked in disbelief.

 

YEAAAA!

 

Dustin begins moving and musters up enough strength to get upon his feet and wipe away his bleeding face while remaining to hold his right knee for dear life.  Martin on the other hand seems to be tired, frustrated, and out of energy as his daily drinking habit seems to be catching up with him.  He just lies back on his back and stares up at Ryan who is now slowly hobbling towards the ping pong table which serves as a beer pong table.  Cups of half drank beers still remain in a pyramid shape as Ryan holds onto the table end to take weight off his hurt knee.

 

SWOOSH!

 

The same keg that knocked Martin out comes flying past Dustin, barely missing him as the wind is heard passing by his head.  Hunt stumbles forward from all the momentum behind his throw and easily gets caught in a grapple by Dustin who is leaning on the table to keep standing.  After what seems to be a dead-lock, Dustin comes away with a stronger grip as he grabs Martin’s head and places it underneath one arm before planting Hunt with a DDT to the ping pong table causing the table to collapse and several cups of beer to fly into the air landing on the floor and on Martin.

 

YEAAA!  ::The Buffalo crowd is now rampant on cheering for Dustin::

 

“I told you good always prevails!”

 

“This match isn’t over yet, Hunt will show you the benefits of a fraternity soon enough!”

Dustin rolls Martin’s legs up for a pin as Hunt is nearly unconscious from the DDT, good ol’ referee Ponch is there to count...

 

ONNNNNE!

 

::a long pause::

 

TWWWWOOOO!

 

::an even longer pause::

 

TWWOO AND A HALF!

 

::the longest pause yet::

 

As if smelling a close defeat, Hunt kicks out and sits up regaining and resting from the extent of this hardcore match.

 

“That was the slowest count in the world; Ryan could have won this match at least 5 times over with that count!  Dustin has to face all odds, its Ryan against the World!”

 

“Psssh, shoulda, coulda, woulda—it’s all the same, Referee Ponch is just making sure the pin is legit and done in a timely fashion, he doesn’t want to be accused of being bias now.”

 

“I think it’s pretty apparent who Ponch is pulling for as this match is getting ridiculous!”

 

*Commercial Break*

Now you can be as hardcore as our Hardcore Champ Ryan Dustin with this limited edition artificial scar tattoo set.  Just simply use water and a black pin to trace the stencils and even you can have scars as if you have won the Hardcore Title!

*End of Commercial Break*

 

Dustin still sits in the remains of the ping pong table as Hunt, with a fresh breath, jumps up to his feet dragging Dustin up by his hair in the process.  Dragging Ryan, Hunt explores out through the basement doors wiping his forehead one last time before it clots over into dried blood.  Outside of the basement is the wilderness of the Pi Kappa Phi house consisting of random woods and a huge gravel drive way.  Martin brings Ryan up the driveway with him and quickly side kicks Ryan’s right knee some more sending Dustin sailing down to the gravel.  Sensing Dustin’s weak spot, Martin throws a quick strong Boston Crab to the hurting knee of Dustin as Ryan screams in pain with his face bleeding and up against the hard gravel rocks.

 

“The great knees of Dustin may be about to fold under pressure!”

 

Hunt releases the deadly submission only to continue holding Dustin’s leg and drags him up the gravel driveway back in front of the porch.  Wiping his own forehead from sweat and blood, Hunt goes in to kick away at the face of Dustin and open up his wounds even more—SWOOP!  Ryan grabs the legs of Martin out from under him and follows up with repeated blows to Martin’s keg-wounded head.

 

“Your beloved hardcore hero is using close fists!”

 

“For the sake of mankind, Riley heroes must use dirty tactics sometimes against dirty opponents.”

 

Dustin feels a complete second wind as he stands up to his feet slowly and struggling a little on his right leg, wipes away the fresh blood on his shirt from Martin’s face.  Hunt holds his face in pain, as Ryan limps above him slowly picking him up off the ground and eventually picking Hunt up sideways, so Hunt is parallel to the ground in Ryan’s arms.  Dustin slowly hobbles towards a pillar and proceeds to slamming Martin through the pillar and onto the porch with a cross body slam.  The pillar falls out of its place as Hunt lays on the porch holding his lower back now in pain.  Dustin feels the much needed momentum as he leans against another pillar for support.  The Real Deal moves in to strike again on the downed number one contender as he picks the dazed Hunt up and prepares for a super kick.  Using one of the last bits of strength left in his right knee, Ryan lunges forward and connects with a “Done Deal” kick to the square jaw of Martin Hunt sending both men down to the porch as Dustin lands on Hunt, luckily, and begins a cover.

 

ONE!

 

::long pause::

 

TWO!

 

::even longer pause::

 

Dustin has had enough and strikes referee Ponch in the jaw with a lying down side-kick that sends Ponch down to the ground in shock.  Using the side of the house, Ryan picks himself back up to his legs and begins yelling at Ponch to give him a fair match.

 

“Assaulting the referee, minus 10 good guy points...”

 

“Are you kidding me?  Bobby that guy deserved every bit of that kick!”

 

While Dustin’s back is turned, Hunt reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a pair of brass knuckles that clang against Ryan’s family jewels, causing the Hardcore Champ to bend over in severe pain.  Big Country gets to his feet, a little dazed still from the super-kick and delivers a running bull dog to Dustin that seems very dangerous as Ryan’s chin bounces off the wooden floor of the porch as a puddle of blood is now seen from Dustin’s gaping forehead.  The fratastic challenger walks back inside the fraternity house and comes back out with a flag pole holding the Pi Kappa Phi flag on it.  Sitting on Dustin’s back Martin begins choking Ryan with the middle of the pole, before sitting up and bashing it across the champion’s back as Ryan cringes in pain.  With the flag pole now broken, Martin picks up a bleeding, dazed Dustin and pulls a vile out of his other back pocket.  Martin takes the vile of clear liquid and drinks a little of it, but stores the rest in his mouth as he stands in front of Ryan and spits all the liquid into The Real Deal’s eyes.  Ryan gropes at his eyes while Martin sucker punches him in the gut and plants him with a swinging neck breaker.  Martin goes for the cover...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE

 

Last second kick out as the fan begins chanting for Dustin in the arena.

 

DUSTIN! DUSTIN! DUSTIN!

 

Hunt picks Ryan up again but this time gets kneed in the midsection and then taken into a side headlock which is followed by fierce right hands from the champion.  Hunt’s face continues to spout blood as the champion can now start seeing a little better out of his eyes.  Dustin grabs Martin and brings him back inside the fraternity house as this time the two climb a set of stairs slowly brawling and exchanging punches in the process.  Once at the top of the stairs Martin gets slung into the wall and remains somewhat stuck in the drywall, seemingly out of place as Dustin searches upstairs for anything to aid him in defending his title.  Bursting open a bedroom door, Ryan finds a mini-fridge and picks it up while limping towards the hole-in-the-wall, one man gang of Hunt.  Dustin throws the fridge at Hunt before his right knee gives way under him—the fridge misses Martin and swings open with the impact from the wall as Dustin climbs back to his feet, this time slower than ever.  Ryan delivers a vicious side kick to the bloody mess of a face and then climbs on top of a dresser with his back facing Martin.  Martin slumps down out of the drywall and falls to the floor, as Dustin is preparing for his patent Star Dustin’ Press.  Feeling a near end, Martin crawls up to his hands and knees in Ryan’s direction.  Unaware of Martin’s sudden movement, Ryan throws his hands up and gets ready to twist in air—

 

SMACK!

 

A loud smacking sound is heard with the mixture of a thud as Hunt apparently used an empty wine bottle, which rolled out of the open mini-fridge, and bashed in Dustin’s right knee for good.  Solid screaming is heard as nothing but pain reflects from the glossy eyes of the Hardcore Champ.  Martin climbs to his feet and smiles sadistically at the writhing pain Dustin endures from the devastating wine bottle shot.  With the smirk still on his face, Hunt goes to Dustin’s legs and wraps them up in a figure four.  Using the foot board of a nearby bed, Hunt kills into Ryan’s legs deeper with supreme leverage.  Screaming in pain, Ryan withstands tapping out but can not stop his shoulders from hitting the ground.  As if there was no question, Ponch is quickly there to count the close pin...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

No, a last second burst of energy causes Ryan to momentarily pick his shoulder up off the ground, but slumps back to the ground as Martin reaches higher on the foot board and increases his leverage.  With no other option available, Ryan stops himself from tapping out but falls onto the floor again for the pin...

 

“No man can withstand that much pain, but in my eyes I feel Ryan has shown us pure heart and dedication during this match, even to the very end where he would not submit to Hunt,” states Comet as he realizes another good man has been cheated from a title.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

::DING DING::

 

Ponch signals for the end of the match, but Hunt doesn’t release the leg lock for another minute to ensure significant pain before dismantling the hold.  Hunt stands up slowly, worn out and exhausted from the match, wiping the blood from his face and forehead before he holds his arms in victory.  Dustin lays motionless as if he has passed out from the pain and is blinded by the blood and clear liquid that has spilt into his vision.  Hunt holds up the Hardcore Title with that same cocky smirk as he receives aid from Ponch in walking out of the room.  The scene fades with shot of Ryan knocked out on the floor withering in pain as a deafening roar of boos invades the entire stadium as the Titan-tron fades out. 

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Back in Chris Card Enterprises HQ, or alternatively Landon Maddix's dressing room, the ICTV Champion is busy reading up on 'Wrestling Stipulations For Dummies' ahead of his DECISION OF DOOM~! over the stip for his match tonight. Card, Megan and Natasha meanwhile seem relatively calm as they stand in the background chatting away and sipping on complimentary Pepsi Max...with LEMON~!

 

 

 

LEMON~!

 

But while they're getting their Maximum Citrus Taste, No Sugar hits...the door swings open, and Commisioner Alexander Zenon steps into the room with little more than a cough as introduction, bringing with him referee Sexton Hardcastle.

 

"Time's up kid." sighs Zenon, pointing to a blank space on his wrist where a watch would usually rest. "We need to know the stip for the match, incase you need cages or any other 'props'."

 

Flipping the book over his head and carelessly onto the floor, Maddix looks up from his confortable chair to the still intimidating presence of Zenon and smiles.

 

"Fine."

 

"So, what is it then?"

 

"Well, I've thought long and hard about it and I think this is a great chance for me to prove a point to Johnny Dangerous that I never got to prove in the past, because he never gave me a shot at the Cru..."

 

"...can we cut to the chase, 'champ'..." sighs the uninterested Zenon. "Places to be...you know."

 

"Fine. I want Johnny in a No Gravity Match..."

 

 

 

"YEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

The crowd in the HSBC Arena pop, as Zenon shrugs and Card looks slightly shocked. Quickly Zenon and Hardcastle leave to break the news to Johnny, as Card steps forward and glares at Maddix.

 

"What...are you THINKING!?!"

 

"Wha..."

 

"A No Gravity Match!?! I hate to say this Landon, but that's not smart."

 

"And why not?" Maddix snaps, standing up...as Natasha and Megan quickly walk over to try and calm things, succeeding as both Card and Maddix mellow out instantly. "Relax Chris."

 

"Relax? Landon, you've never been in a No Gravity Match. Johnny has. Hell, it was only a couple of months ago."

 

"What's to worry about? Hit five top rope moves. Not exactly rocket science. Hell, Tom only had to use a haiku in his No Gravity Match..."

 

"A what?"

 

"...nevermind. Look...this is my way of showing Johnny Dangerous that I could have been a better Cruiserweight Champion than him, Alan Clark, Austin Sly, Spike Jenkins...or even Johnny's buddy Wildchild. Had he given me the chance. And once I've proved that point to him, maybe then he'll go away. Maybe then he'll realise that I'm just plain better than him."

 

Card still doesn't look completely convinced, so Maddix stands up and makes a sweeping motion down his body.

 

"Look at me Chris."

 

Card does, not quite getting the point.

 

"You really think Johnny freaking Dangerous is going to be a problem to me, under any stipulation? Chris...puh-lease!"

 

"You make a good point." concedes Card. "After all...you're the guy who I'm backing to be the Future of this business."

 

"Exactly. Just relax and have a little faith."

 

"...don't worry Landon. I've got all the faith in the world. You just got me a little worried for a minute there..."

 

Maddix chuckles to himself, but sitting Card down in the seat he was sitting on and handing him another Pepsi Max.

 

"Don't be. I've got a plan..."

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SWF Storm comes back to air, the HSBC Arena's faithful screaming and cheering, as they hold up signs which litter the scene. Soon enough, the voices of those two commentators we all know and love break in…

 

"(Comet) Welcome back to the HSBC Arena.. I'm the CYCLOOONE COMET, here with Bobbo Riley!"

 

"(Riley) Buffalo! Tom Flesher's home town!"

 

"(Comet) I'm well aware, and of course, he'll be taking on Revolution Zero's Toxxic later tonight, with Janus serving as special guest referee. However momentarily we'll be holding a four way for the USJL Number One Contendership!"

 

"(Riley) No one cares. Let's talk about Flesher."

 

"(Comet) I don't think so. We do have other matches to attend to. After all, the four way involves Max King and Citizen Manson, if that's any consolation."

 

"(Riley) I suppose. Although Manson is again working with a bum knee."

 

"(Comet) All precipitated by Max King's devious plot, as his actions led to an easy target for Manson's opponents, resulting to three straight tap outs."

 

"(Riley) I find him courageous to be working under such odds.."

 

"(Comet) And the match does involve both Ced Ordonez and Munich, as well."

 

"(Riley) Aside from Ced going down in flames versus my hero Tom Flesher, I don't care. Now let's get on with it!"

 

"Night of Fire!"

 

The lights go out as the beat of Niko's "Night of Fire" riles up the crowd, causing them to stand to their feet. Near the entrance, a group of shadowy figures slowly appear from underneath the stage by lift. The figures stay still, posing, until…

 

"FIRE!"

 

A female voice 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. They immediately start a heavily choreographed dance routine as the stage is illuminated in an elaborate light show.

 

"(Riley) Ha! Ced looks like such a fruit."

 

"(Comet) You're one to talk."

 

"(Riley) I don't know what you mean."

 

After a minute of pumping up the crowd, not a good idea in caustic Buffalo and home of the man he faced on the last show, Ced breaks away from the group and makes his way to the ring, to a large array of cheers, but smatterings of boos from fans of Flesher.

 

"(Funyon) The following is a Fatal Four Way for the Number One Contendership to the SWF USJL Championship! First, making his way down to the ring, hailing from Sacramento, California -- standing five feet, nine inches tall, and weighing in at two-hundred and nine pounds! Representing the Wayward Sons, the "Bemani Cross Wizard" CED ORRRDONEZ!"

 

Ced slides into the ring and makes his way to the bottom right set turnbuckles, posing for the crowd in an obligatory photo op. He glances back to the entrance way and directs the crowd's attention to his dance troupe before they head to the back. Camera flashes go off, as Ced poses for one more photo op, before going into a pre-match stretch.

 

"(Riley) What kind of mutant would want to take a photo of him?"

 

"(Comet) You're absolutely ruthless tonight. I find it absolutely appalling."

 

"(Riley) Because I can't wait for Toxxic versus Flesher, in which Tom will stretch Toxxic's ass and be the victor. A WINNER WILL BE FLESHER~!"

 

"(Comet) Nice choice of euphemisms there."

 

"(Riley) What?! Get your mind out of gutter."

 

Ced continues the routine, as Kelly Connelly emerges from the back and heads down the ramp. The horndogs in the crowd whistle and holler, as she embarks up the ring steps and steps through the ropes, into the ring. She grabs the microphone from Funyon and, looking out into the crowd, raises it to her face…

 

"(Kelly) Ladies and gentlemen, you are in for a treat. You are about to be amazed and thrilled! So take a look now, at six feet, three inches and two-hundred and fifty pounds of perfection! He is Wrestling's Superman... A God among mortals… A superior talent in the ring! Lay your eyes on "The Icon" MAX KING!"

 

Kelly hands the mic back to Funyon, as an explosion of pyro occurs on the entryway. "Superstar" by Saliva cues up and Max King steps out, a smug expression on his face as the fans boo. He descends down the ramp and doesn't even acknowledge the fans heckling him, as he continues on with head held high and an off putting arrogance. He walks up the steps onto the apron, where Kelly holds open the ropes for him. Max enters, and makes his way to the center of the ring, locking eyes with Ced Ordonez for a moment. Kelly walks over, and rubs her hands up and down his body for a bit, before kissing him on the cheek and exiting the ring. Max takes the corner opposite of Ced…

 

"(Riley) A superior talent in the ring?! She's out of her mind, like a lot of women! There's only one superior talent in there, and that's Tom *BLEEP*ing Flesher!"

 

"(Comet) Please. Enough about Flesher... I can't stand it."

 

Kelly and Max discuss strategy, as “Gimme Shelter” by The Rolling Stones kicks up on the PA, and out saunters Munich to a pop. At the top of the ramp, Munich takes a pack of cigarettes out of his black t-shirt pocket and places them vertically on the ramp. He then lefts the shirt up over his head and throws it down onto the steel. He then heads down the ramp, walking quickly.

 

"(Funyon) And their opponent, hailing from Dallas, Texas -- standing six feet, four inches tall, and weighing in at two-hundred and sixty pounds! MUUUNIICH!"

 

Munich slides in under the bottom rope, as Max King retreats along the north side of the ring, to take the corner just above Ced. Munich and King eye each other now, as he goes about doing warm up exercises in the corner opposite of Ced. As all three men await, the house lights dim and multi-colored strobes take their place, as "Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" by Prong hits to the mixed ovation of the fans. Manson emerges from the back, and haughtily heads straight down the ramp.

 

"(Funyon) And finally, hailing from Denver, Colorado -- standing six feet even, and weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds! MMAAAAANNNSONNN!"

 

Funyon escapes the ring, as halts near the ring, and glares at his three opponents. He then rolls into the ring and upon standing, steps back into the final corner, opposite of Max King. Referee Matthew Kivell calls for the bell…

 

::DING DING!::

 

And the match is on! Every man spends a moment processing the situation, as Manson glances down at the heavy metal brace adorning his right knee, rage boiling. This causes him to charge across the ring, and lock up with Max King! King is surprised by the attack, at the very least expecting the closer Munich to make the first move, as he tries to stave off Manson. Not wanting any part of the goings on between Max King and Manson, Ced and Munich shrug their shoulders and come out to the center of the ring, where they share share a slap of the hand out of respect. Manson breaks the hold on King, and begins rattling off a flurry of punches to the face, King's valet Kelly cringing with each one.

 

"(Comet) Citizen Manson is taking it to Max King right now, retaliation for being turned on so many shows ago…"

 

Ordonez and Munich play a game of cat and mouse, as the smaller and quicker Ced Ordonez repeatedly lunges and slides in on Munich, trying to catch a hold of the leg. As Ordonez jumps up from his latest attempt, Munich lunges forward, trying to trap Ordonez. Ordonez evades, and wraps his arms around Munich with a behind waistlock. Before Munich can think of getting out of it, Ordonez hoists him up and drops him onto his stomach, while transitioning into a front facelock. Meanwhile, Max King rakes Manson's eyes, to put an end to the assault…

 

"BOOOO!"

 

And takes Manson by the back of his neck, throwing him into the corner, as Kivell admonishes him. King angrily slaps Manson, before turning a shoulder to him, and ramming his elbow to Manson's face. King follows up with another, and another, but Manson finally fires back with a forearm to the jaw, rocking King and sending him backward. Manson prepares another, but "The Icon" kicks Manson in his injured right leg, causing Manson to drop to a knee.

 

"(Comet) Ced taking Munich to the mat with a front facelock, in what can be called a very wise move. However, Max King is taking some low roads here against Citizen Manson…"

 

"(Riley) Well, Manson left himself open and King took advantage, it's as simple as that. There's no shenanigans here."

 

"(Comet) …the eye rake?"

 

"(Riley) A legit amateur maneuver."

 

The strength and size of Munich allows him to get up to a knee, when he punches Ced's kidneys several times. Ced loosens his grip, allowing Munich to come to a stand. Munich shakes off the last of Ced's hold on him, and quickly lands a knee to the stomach. From there Munich grabs Ordonez by the arm, and locks in a hammerlock as he transitions behind Ced. Looking for a way out, Ced takes a run toward the south ropes, and ducks in between them, forcing the break. Munich tries to close in on Ced once again, but Ced decides to go low, as he dropkicks the legs out from under Munich! Munich begins to get up, but Ced boots the kneeling Munich in the chest, knocking him back down.

 

Meanwhile, Manson grimaces, feeling the effects from King's kick. King attempts to pull Manson up by his hair, but is pushed away by Manson, who gets to his feet and turns his left leg toward King, in a defensive position. As King closes in again, Manson unleashes a chop to King's neck. King takes a few steps back, tries to after Manson again, but receives another chop for his trouble. As King comes forward again, Manson tries a wild discus lariat with his right arm, but being unbalanced, he misses as King ducks. With Manson's back to him, King sneaks his head under the arm of Manson, wraps his right arm around the back and places his left hand on the left leg. King lifts Manson up, and drops down just as quickly, planting him on his back with a backdrop suplex!

 

"(Comet) Ordonez gets the best of Munich, while King further uses Manson's debilitating injury to his advantage with a backdrop suplex!"

 

Manson convulses on the mat, as King sits back up, then gets back to his feet. "The Icon" lifts Manson's right leg up by his boot. Acknowledging his valet on the outside, King drops down with an elbow drop into the leg! Manson yelps in pain, as King quickly stands back up. Smirkly rolling Manson over onto his stomach, King again takes hold of Manson's boot. King jumps up, and snaps Manson's leg, causing Manson to yell out once more!

 

In the meantime, Munich gets to his feet, but Ordonez is back on him quickly, as he bounces off the ropes and takes a leap, knocking Munich down with a bodypress! Ced stays on Munich, as Kivell dives down to count, but Munich quickly throws Ordonez off. Both Munich and Ced get back to their feet, but Ced is caught unaware, as Munich winds up and unleashes a devastating haymaker with his left hand! Ced goes down immediately, Munich covers with a vertical press and Kivell dives down to count…

 

 

"ONE!!"

 

 

 

But Ordonez kicks out! Suddenly, Max King turns his attentions away from Manson, apparently upset over Munich getting a count, and kicks him flush… IN THE GODDAMNED FACE! Munich goes down, and Ced rolls out of the way, hastened by King brushing him aside with his boot. Manson, left alone by King, crawls into the corner, where he vigorously rubs his knee.

 

"(Comet) Manson must be in a world of pain right now, but I don’t know about King not continuing the attack on Manson."

 

"(Riley) It's not what I would call wise, however it's all Munich's fault regardless."

 

King continues punting Munich, and finally Munich is able to pull himself up with the aid of the aisleside ropes. King takes a hold of Munich's hand and yanks him off the ropes, seemingly to whip him across the ring. However King keeps hold of Munich, and pulls him back toward a well-placed foot to the gut. Munich keels over, and King stands to the side, lifting Munich up slightly, only to drop him sternum first across the knee! Munich rolls off the knee, toward the mat, where he struggles to suck in air. Grinning, King places a foot on his chest, and flexes, as Ced stands up…

 

"(King) C'MON, BABY!"

 

 

"BOOOO!"

 

 

 

"ONE!!"

 

 

 

 

And Munich gets a shoulder up! King begins bending over to lift Munich up, but here comes Ced, who comes in with an attempted kick, as Munich rolls out of the way. King catches the foot, but up leaps Ced, who kicks the back of King's head! Enziguiri!! Manson pulls himself up to his feet with the help of the ring ropes, as King falls flat on his face. On his hands and knees, King tries to get to his feet, but Manson gingerly runs in and somersaults over King, on the way over clutching the neck and leg. Manson rolls over King onto his shoulders, and Kivell proceeds to count…

 

 

 

 

 

"ONE!!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

BUT IT'S IMMEDIATELY BROKEN UP BY CED!!

 

"(Comet) Manson comes out of nowhere with the oklahoma roll, but he isn't able to get one over on Ced, or at least not for very long…"

 

"(Riley) That little bastard! He just tried to sneak in a pin on King!"

 

Manson gets to his feet, and Ced immediately goes to work on him, with a dropkick to Manson's bum knee. Manson hits the mat, and is lifted back up by Ced, who turns his shoulder to Manson and comes forth with a double handed chop…

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

 

"WHOOO!"

 

 

To Manson's bare chest, which sends him stumbling back to the south ropes. Ced revs up a European uppercut, which he lands square to Manson's face, causing his head to snap back. Ced then grabs Manson's hand and whips him across the ring. Manson springs off the opposite side ropes, and Ced waits for him in the center of the ring. Ced drops down and scissors the leg, dropping Manson with a drop toehold, forcing him into the mat face first. Back on his feet quickly, Ced springs off the aisleside ropes, and comes back, dropping a hard elbow, called the Powerdrive Elbow, to the back of Manson's head!

 

Ced is quick to follow up again, as he stands and takes hold of Manson's leg. From there, he faces out to the crowd, and weaves his right leg around Manson's injured appendage, so that his calf meets Manson's shin. Placing his foot against the mat, Ced snaps back toward the mat, causing Manson to reel and scream in agony! Manson claws the mat in desperation, looking for some way to get out of it, as Ced gets back up to his feet. As Ced stands, however, King lumbers toward him, infuriated and looking for an outlet, while Munich also gets to a vertical base, and lines up a direct line toward Ced. Munich charges Ced, right arm to his side, as King swings for a wild lariat with his left. Ced ducks King, causing Munich to miss the Guilty Pleasure lariat. However, Munich manages to clobber King in the process, knocking him to the outside, where Kelly comes to his aid. Munich stands, looking down at King, as Kivell looks confused before checking in on Manson, as Ced again snaps back toward the mat, causing Manson to scream in pain once more! Munich realizes the situation, and yanks Ced back up. Munich wraps his right arm around the back of Ced's head and runs forward, dropping to the mat and planting Ced with a bulldog, which manages to finally free Manson.

 

"(Comet) You'll only stuff like that in the SWF! Manson, seemingly at Ced's mercy for what must have seemed like hours to him, saved by a wild sequence of events."

 

"(Riley) Such is the nature of these types of matches. You think you have someone alone, but in comes the extra man, or two, and the whole thing turns into one giant orgy... of violence. *cough*"

 

"(Comet) Thank Stan Lee we saved that from becoming another gay joke."

 

Manson drags himself out of harms way, as Munich bends down and lifts Ordonez up. Before Munich can attack, however, King reaches in and grabs Munich's foot, pulling him to the outside! King lays in lefts and rights to Munich, but Munich blocks and counters with right hands of his own, followed by a big left, knocking King down to a knee. Munich promptly brings King back up to his feet, as Ced heads down toward the south ropes and bounces off. Ordonez builds steam and leaps through the middle and top rope, turning his body and colliding with Max King and Munich! Manson, resting in the lower right corner, watches on as Kivell begins to count…

 

"(Comet) SUICIDE DIVE by Ced!"

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO!"

 

 

"THREE!"

 

 

"FOUR!"

 

 

All three men begin to stir…

 

 

"FIVE!"

 

 

"SIX!"

 

 

Ced Ordonez climbs back inside the ring…

 

 

"SEVENN!"

 

 

"EIGHT!"

 

 

Followed by Munich, whom Ced lays a boot into…

 

 

"NINE!"

 

 

And Max King brings up the rear, just before Kivell hits ten. Rather than deal with Munich himself, Ced leaves him to King to each other, as Ordonez heads toward Manson, who pulls himself up with the ring ropes. Propping himself up with his arms on the ropes, Manson lays in a boot to Ced's face, with his left leg, to the oncoming Ced. Manson follows that up with another kick, as he releases the ropes, swings his right arm and waylays Ced with a lariat. Manson falls on top of him, and begins raining down on Ced with furious lefts and rights, doing anything to keep Ced from gaining another advantage, as Ced covers up.

 

On the other side of the ring, Max King and Munich get to their feet, and King is the first to fire a volley, with a forearm shot to the jaw. Munich fires back with another strong left hand, blocked by King, only for Munich to come across with a right, which knocks King back a couple of steps. Unfortunately for Munich, the aware, not-willing-to-get-in-a-brawl Max King notices Kivell turning his attention to Ced and Manson briefly, allowing King to kick Munich square in the junk! Munich goes down to his knees…

 

"(Comet) The nefarious King hath booted Munich down below!! EVIL~!"

 

"(Riley) Why, I'm starting to warm up to King in this match…"

 

 

"BBOOOOOOO!!"

 

 

"MAX! KING! SUCKS!"

 

 

"MAX! KING! SUCKS!"

 

 

The chants cause Kivell to turn around, but it's too late to notice the wacky shenanigans, as King scissors the head of Munich and hooks his arms. King lifts Munich up, and holds him in the air for a moment, before falling back and planting him with a butterfly suplex! Being the keen technical wrestler that he is, King floats over and covers, with a hook of the leg…

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

 

 

"TWO!!"

 

 

 

 

But Munich kicks out! Meanwhile, Manson dismounts Ced, so as not to be disqualified by Kivell, and travels to the upper portion of the ring. He places his hands on his knees, and waits for Ced to stand. Slowly Ced does get up, with his back to Manson. As Ced turns around, Manson flexes his knee, and gingerly begins running, building up speed. Ced spots Manson coming in, but it's too late for him as Manson raises his left leg, takes a slight jump and KICKS CED IN THE MOTHERFUCKING FACE! Manson's right knee buckles under him, but he manages to cover Ced regardless, causing Matt Kivell to come over…

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

 

However, the commotion also causes Max King to take notice. He leaves Munich and runs toward Manson and Ced.

 

 

 

"TWOOO!!"

 

 

 

 

Max King leaps…

 

 

 

 

 

 

"THRE--"

 

 

 

 

 

 

KING BREAKS UP THE PIN! OH JESUS FUCK, HE BREAKS UP THE PIN!

 

"(Comet) Nearfall for King off the butterfly suplex, and Manson comes within a hair of winning the match with a Yakuza Kick!!"

 

Munich gets to his feet, as King begins hammering Manson's back with repeated forearm shots. Manson gets to a knee and fires off a punch to the stomach, which staggers King, but doesn't stop him, as King simply kicks Manson in the chest. Manson is knocked back to the mat, and King grabs Manson by his injured leg, forecefully dragging him to the center of the ring. King holds the leg up, and gives Manson a couple of kicks to the back of the knee for good measure. King then somersaults over onto his back while holding Manson by the boot, further trying to injure Manson by hyperextending the knee. Manson screams out, and King stands, scissoring the leg. King goes to the mat backfirst, and takes a hold of Manson's boot between his arm and torso, as he begins pulling on the knee further. Manson claws desperately, looking for the ropes on the announce table side. Straining, Manson fights to get to the ropes, but Munich comes to his aid, as he stomps King's face in.

 

King lets go of the hold, as Manson pulls himself along the mat with his forearms, out of harm's way. Ced, meanwhile, shakes off the Yakuza Kick, gets to his feet, and begins ascending the ropes. Munich pulls King to his feet, and locks in a behind waistlock, presumably looking for a suplex. King however switches him up, as he breaks the hands and maneuvers behind him, wrapping his arms around Munich's head. Ced reaches the top turnbuckle, and comes to a full stand, preparing to launch himself off. King sees this, and breaks the sleeper hold, preferring to push Munich off toward the ropes. What happens next is obvious, as Munich bounces off the ropes chest first, causing Ced to fall and absolutely rack himself on the top turnbuckle!

 

"(Comet) Manson in dire straights, is rescued by Munich once again, who had no choice but to break up the submission!"

 

"(Riley) And Ced gets his nuts racked! Take that! King has been golden in this match!"

 

 

"BBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

 

The crowd jeers King once again, as Munich staggers back toward him. King delivers a knee to the back for insurance, and King wraps an arm around Munich's neck. King snaps him down, bringing him into collision with his knee! Munich convulses and grabs his back, rolling away, as King flips him the bird…

 

 

"MAX! KING! SUCKS!"

 

 

"MAX! KING! SUCKS!"

 

 

To yet more jeering! King turns his attentions away from Munich, as Munich rolls to his knees and tries desperately to recover. King approaches Ced, and Ced is quick on the defensive, with a punch to the face. King resorts with a hard shotei palm strike, nearly causing Ced to fall to the ground below. King ascends the turnbuckles, positioning himself on the middle rope, as Munich gets to his feet. King lifts Ced off the turnbuckle for a superplex and begins to bring him over, however he doesn't count on Munich coming in underneath him, and grabbing hold. Suddenly, chaos is wrought and the ring looks more like a car wreck than a match, and Kivell can do nothing but look away, as Munich powerbombs King, and King superplexes Ced!

 

"(Comet) What in the heck was that? King was going for a Superb Plex on Ced, only for Munich to retaliate King's reverse DDT backbreaker with a powerbomb!"

 

"(Riley) It's madness, I tell you. But look, only Manson stands tall!"

 

Indeed, Manson can only look on, as bodies are thrown across the ring in one big mess. He pulls himself up with the ring ropes, and hobbles over, surveying the damage. Suddenly, he dives down on top of Ced, looking for a cover…

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"TWO!!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"THRE--"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BUT KING CRAWLS OVER AND BREAKS UP THE COVER ONCE AGAIN!

 

 

Manson hangs his head and sighs, as he crawls on hands and knees over to Munich, where he tries for the cover again…

 

 

"ONE!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"TWOOO!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"THRE--"

 

 

BUT MUNICH BARELY GETS THE SHOULDER UP! WHAT IN THE HOLIEST OF HOLY FUCKS!1!

 

 

"(Comet) Two VERY near falls for Manson, who surely can't help but wonder what he has to do to win this match!"

 

 

Disappointment again washes over Manson's face, as he slowly gets back up to his feet. He nearly falls back down, only to catch himself on the ring ropes, as his opponents begin coming to. Slowly, each one rises, as King goes after Manson with a kick to the stomach. Ced and Munich are left to each other, as Ced fires off a forearm to the face in the gut, and Munich reciprocates with a punch. Ced goes for a kick to the gut, but Munich catches the foot, and places Ced in a standing headscissors. Munich lifts him up for the C-4 Crunch, but Ced instead wraps his feet around Munich's head, and headscissors him out of the ring. Ced grabs onto the top rope, and launches himself over onto Munich!

 

Meanwhile, we see Manson rapidly chopping King's neck, but King retaliates with a knee to the gut. King pulls Manson off the ropes, and attempts to whip him across the ring. Manson stands his ground, however, and shortarms him. Manson pulls King into his waiting arms, a pefect 3/4 bulldog hold…

 

"(Comet) King, prepare to face the Consequences!"

 

However, King gets a knee up to the back, and wraps his arm around the neck. Manson frantically swings upward, punching King in the head several times, but King still gets Manson up, presumably for the King Buster. Manson manages to shift his weight, however, as he lands behind King, pain shooting through his right leg. Manson still manages to wrap his arm around King's neck, and before King can react, Manson spins quickly to his right, planting King with the inverted spinning neckbreaker!

 

"(Comet) AND MANSON GETS THE KILLING JOKE!"

 

Manson covers!

 

 

 

"ONE!!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"TWO!!"

 

 

 

 

 

CED TRIES TO JUMP IN THE RING!

 

 

 

 

 

 

"THREEEE~!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BUT IT'S TOO LATE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

::DING DING!::

 

 

 

"(Funyon) Your winner, and Number One Contender to the USJL Championship… MMAAAANNSSOOONNN!"

 

"Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" hits, to the cheering of the fans, as Manson collapses from pain and exhaustion…

 

"(Comet) WOW! Manson overcame all odds to win the USJL Number One Contendership! Amazing!"

 

"(Riley) KING WILL HAVE THAT MAN'S HEAD!"

 

"(Comet) But, for now, Manson gets one up on Max King! We'll be back with more SWF Storm after these messages!"

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The camera returns to the HSBC arena and the crowd is going wild for SWF STOOOOOORM!!! Circling, panning whatever you want to call it as it gets a packed and loaded visual of the rabid crowd very excited as the show is only halfway over. Signs, posters, glowsticks and many others supporting their favorite wrestlers are captured on camera. However they all fail as over 800 audience members in the nosebleed section have created a life size action figure of GORO, complete with a sign, which all but 30 of the members are holding. It’s not long before the attention is turned back to the ring, with the voices of Comet and Riley heard higher then the rest.

 

Comet: “Welcome back to SWF Storm, my fellow citizens!”

 

Riley: “The show of all shows as we get to see 3 of my favorite people in the Main Event… Throw in an Ace Lezaire and we’re smoking. Who needs stinker uppers like Dace or Drazon or even Johnny Dangerous… LONG LIVE JANTOXER!!!”

 

Comet: “Forgive the cliché, but Riley, that was so gay!”

 

The bantering continues for a tiny bit, however the attention is now created on the ring. The arena dims down to solid darkness, as the crowd is not sure whether to cheer, or if it’s just a power failure. Finally after a few moments and many seconds, allowing the hushes and the comments to pass. The beginning metal drum of Marilyn Manson's "Dope Hat" hits the speakers, garnishing a loud ovation from the crowd for the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory esque warped tune. Drazon steps through the curtains, a black button up shirt on, open, allowing the crowd to see the inner part of his body with the current lighting. He takes a moment to focus on the crowd as Comet is once again heard.

 

Comet: “Citizen Drazon here is about to go one on one with a Wayward Son in a submissions match! You can bet after the last few matches he’s had… he’s in the mood to make somebody scream!”

 

Riley: “Face it! Drazon got outclassed and was way outta his league!”

 

Drazon begins to walk down the isle allowing Funyon to do his bit.

 

Funyon: “The following contest is a Submissions match!! Introducing first! He hails from Vancouver, British Columbia! He stands at Six feet Four inches and weighs in at 243 pounds! He is the Hardcore Maniac… JAMIE DRAZON!!!”

 

Upon having his name announced, Drazon rolls inside the ring. He takes a moment to stretch his arms back, feeling numerous cracks and pops throughout his body.

 

Comet: “Citizen Drazon although with no actual amateur wrestling experience, is quite an accomplished submissions wrestler. A veteran in the circle and a martial arts master, he is probably one of the most formidable opponents out there!”

 

Riley: “Whatever… Toxxic handled him like he was nuttin!”

 

Comet: “Now folks… his opponent today. Is showing excellent courage for showing up..”

 

Riley: “More like stupidity after taking what he took.”

 

Comet: “Unfortunately Riley may be correct. Alan Clark was on the receiving end of the SWF’s probably most feared move, performed by our federations most feared wrestler…”

 

Riley: “Who happens to be the World Champion.”

 

Comet: “Yes. Thanks for reminding us. Janus had dropped Alan Clark silly with the Demonstar, a move that is damn well known to end careers.”

 

 

 

 

 

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON…

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don’t you cry no more…

 

BOOOOOOM!!!

 

As the opening guitar riffs of “Carry On Wayward Son” blare throughout the arena, two large green flares shoot high into the air from either side of the entranceway, bringing Alan out from behind the curtain and into the spotlight. Alan stands there, frozen with his head down and neck a little swollen, as Funyon makes the announcement.

 

Funyon: “And his opponent! He hails from Long Beach, California! He stands at Six feet One inch and weighs in at 225 pounds! He is ALAN CLARK!!!”

 

The crowd begins to cheer for Alan, admiring his courage. Drazon stands in the center of the ring, remaining focused on his opponent. As the lyrics begin, Alan takes a slow, methodical walk to the ring, gently twisting his neck back and forth. The crowd continues to cheer, but they notice and what they notice, Comet translates.

 

Comet: “Alan doesn’t look himself!”

 

Riley: “He’s one step over the loony bin! How many personalities does he have!?”

 

Comet: “Too many to count! Something tells me we’ll see them in tonight’s match… cause Clark is not the type of person to fight in a battle like this… not with this maniac as you’re opponent!”

 

Riley: “Heh… You ever see Mikey Whipwreck fight Cactus Jack in a street fight!!? Come watch this simulation… muah ha!”

 

Alan passes the fans but doesn’t shake their hands. Instead he looks up into the ring, locking onto Drazon with a cold, intense stare. Alan rips off his jacket and slides inside the ring. Drazon respectfully takes a few steps back as Alan checks around the ring. The facial expressions on the former cruiserweight champ switch from angry, to focused, to a bit of a loony smile.

 

Riley: “Ha! I think Janus had scrambled his internal circuits! Long live the Hell Machine!”

 

Comet: “As much as I hate to say it, I think you’re right! However Alan will have to be on the insane side to survive this!”

 

The two men stand apart from each other. The bell rings, but neither move. The ref grants permission for the battle to go on. There’s no hatred for each other. There’s no annoyance. No provocation to fight whatsoever. But that’s not going stop them from kicking the crap out of each other. Will it?

 

Comet: “These men have something to prove to the league, and have been given every leeway available! There is no DQ! There is no Countout! There aren’t even pinfalls! Yet there is no personal reason for them to use it!”

 

Drazon cracks his shoulders with some stiff shadow punches, letting the entire motions become natural for his body. Alan begins to step forward, keeping his head up and arms guarding his face. As Alan steps toward Drazon, he eases into his guarded stance. The more aggressive of the two, Drazon fires two quick jabs, pulling them both back away from the face before Alan even has time to block. As Alan attempts to bat away the second jab, he steps in a little too far, presenting Drazon the opening he was looking for. Drazon suddenly switches offense, and buries a front kick right into the sternum of Alan Clark. The blast knocks Alan back a few steps, but he remains on his feet.

 

Comet: “Alan doesn’t want to get into a wrestling contest because of his neck… but believe me, the last thing he wants to do is get into a striking battle with Drazon!”

 

Riley: “He doesn’t have many more options! He’s gonna have to fly and maybe bash his brains in with a chair!”

 

Nimbly quick on his feet, Drazon makes a snatching jab with his left hand, forcing Alan to bat it away with his left arm. Drazon uses the timing to snap his hips, extending his right leg, mid-height with a roundhouse kick. Connecting with the rear of Clark’s ribcage, Drazon pushes the cruiserweight toward him, acquiring his left arm and starts to bend it toward the mat for an armbar of some sort. The move doesn’t get applied though, as Alan shows his quickness and takes Drazon down efficiently with an armbar. Both men bounce to their feet upon hitting the mat, but Alan is the first to move, taking two steps before flying at Drazon with a dropkick.

 

Comet: “There we go Alan! The neck is an issue he has to deal with, but maybe Drazon will show some compassion and not try to separate it from his body.”

 

Riley: “Yeah right. Maybe if he was in the World of Oz.”

 

The impact of Alan’s feet send JD to the ropes, before he bounces off them, Alan is in his face, and lands two knife edge chops successfully.

 

“WHOOOOOOO!!!”

 

The crowd feels into the battle as Drazon takes both blows with pleasure. Finally ripping off the shirt he wore to ringside, Drazon exposes his chest with the tiniest of red marks, and flexes his pecs for Alan to smack again.

 

“BRING IT ON!!”

 

The crowd roars in approval as Alan Obliges. The first one connects, leaving an echo around the arena.

 

“WHOO!!”

 

Drazon absorbs the blow, inviting another as his eyes speak for him. Alan puts significant, whipping force into the chop, as the connecting leaves a reverberating ripple across Drazon’s chest muscles.

 

“WHOOOOO!!!”

 

The handprint now on his chest, Drazon keeps the flex and looks toward Clark with a sardonic grin upon his face. Alan switches offense and fires a quick kick to Drazon’s abdominal. JD doesn’t break the flex from the kick, but it stuns him enough for Clark to pull him into a front facelock. Switching to a ¾ nelson facelock, Clark snapmares JD over his shoulder. To his feet multiple seconds before JD, Alan takes a few steps before leaping into the air.

 

Comet: “Alan taking control of the pace here! If he can keep it up like this and have JD guessing what surprises he’s going to pull, he can take this, bad neck or not!”

 

Riley: “I don’t like either man, but Drazon is the far smarter of the two when it comes ring wise. He’s just a far more grounded and meaner wrestler.”

 

Landing on Drazon’s shoulders, Alan snaps backward, flipping his adversary over with a hurricanrana. Drazon rolls to the mat and back to his feet, taking a few steps back as he feels the sting of the move. Clark is right on top of him, gripping his shoulder and placing his forearm over his throat, running him straight into the turnbuckles. Alan takes a second before whipping Drazon to the other side of the ring, gaining massive audience support as he builds his momentum. Alan follows Drazon into the corner, leaping approximately five feet before his destination and crushes into JD with a clothesline avalanche.

 

Comet: “Alan is bringing the pace up, it’s going to get harder and harder for Drazon, allowing Adam to single out an area to target for submission.”

 

Riley: “Yeah… Lots of luck in hell getting the Wrath of Clark on.”

 

Alan gives his opponent some room, as Jamie stumbles out of the corner. Going to the ropes for leverage, Alan bounces off, lining p the back of Drazon’s head for a clothesline. However Drazon pivots inward, smacking his hip into Alan’s identical area, pulls his striking arm straight down over his shoulder and hurls all 225 pounds of his adversary into the mat with a judo arm throw. Alan lets his lower spine absorb the rumbling blow before pressing up to his feet. Drazon catches him in the process, grabbing a handful of hair, Drazon supports Alan before thrusting forward-

 

CRACK

 

-Connecting nastily as he drives his forehead into the bridge of Alan’s nose. His senses completely fucked up, Alan goes cross-eyed, fluid tears come out as if he were pepper sprayed. Drazon pulls him by the Indian leather into a tight gripped front waistlock. Taking a moment to squeeze some air out with a bearhug, Drazon rocket launches Alan overhead with a belly-to-belly suplex. Alan lands right beside the ropes and sits up upon impact. Screaming out in pain he clutches his lower spine and upper neck muscles interchangeably. Clark rolls out of the ring, taking a breather as he grabs the back of his neck. The audience support now shows signs of assortments of cheers for both men, neither man getting the dominant favor.

 

Comet: “Alan is watching his neck carefully!”

 

Riley: “Or he’s going outside to sucker JD out there!”

 

More in the mood to fight then wait, Drazon impatiently follows Clark and steps outside the ropes. He drops down behind Clark, and throws a boxing hook jab to his ribcage. Reactively, Alan spins around and clobbers Drazon in the side of the head with a sharp elbow!

 

Comet: “Drazon didn’t see that coming!”

 

Riley: “I don’t think Clark meant to do it!”

 

Almost surprised he caught JD off guard, Clark jumps at the opportunity, grabbing Drazon by the back of his neck and waist of his pants, and throws him into the steps. Drazon is able to spin and let his back take the blow. However he isn’t able to stop the onslaught that follows, as Clark drives a superkick right into the chin of JD, knocking him over the steps while his back bends in a nasty fashion. Clark turns to the announce table, and instinctively reaches for a chair. Shoving the timekeeper away from his, Alan folds it up and holds it up. The crowd begins to cheer, but Alan bats his hand to them. “I don’t give a damn what you think! I’m kicking his ass!” Many more go confused at the behavior Clark is presenting.

 

Comet: “Clark has stopped caring what the fans think… he wants to win this match!”

 

Riley: “Oh great… more people to say they don’t give a damn and have these bitches cheer… why am I so lucky.”

 

Comet: “Alan seems to be resembling his Apostle self!”

 

Alan mercilessly swings the chair at JD, however JD avoids by spinning out of the way. However as he does so, he leaves his back exposed while resting, allowing the opportune for Clark to swing his chair in reverse…

 

SMACK

 

Connecting hard with Drazon’s lower back! Alan tosses the chair inside the ring, and then rolls Drazon in as well. Reaching under the apron, Alan grabs a set of cable wiring, at least ten feet in length. He tosses it inside as well before rolling in himself.

 

Comet: “Clark is being far more aggressive then before!”

 

Riley: “Drazon has a tendency to bring that out in people!”

 

Drazon is to his knees by the time Alan is in and on his feet. The crowd isn’t sure if they should cheer or boo, but then decide to cheer at the fact violence will present itself. Alan leaves the weapons for a second, slipping behind Drazon before he can land a strike. Alan jams his knee into the lower back of JD, finding his area he wishes to tenderize. Alan doesn’t stop with the knee, dropping a second into the lower back of JD, pushing him to his hands and knees. Drazon grits his teeth, taking the pain, waiting for his opportunity to strike again.

 

Comet: “Alan looking to spasm up that back! It both hurts JD, prevents him from doing any of his impacting moves, and sets him up perfectly for the Texas Cloverleaf.”

 

Riley: “And how easily do you think JD will see that coming! You watch this match is about to get much dirtier!”

 

Comet: “You only hope!”

 

However Riley’s wish may become reality, as Clark reaches toward his steel chair. Raising the chair for maximum leverage, and aiming it down for the open area of Drazon’s spine. However Drazon rolls inward as Alan comes down with the axe like strike. Lying on his back, Drazon kick his right leg up, driving it right into the center of the chair before it reaches mid swing, with Alan bending his head over the chair…

 

SMACK CRACKLE POP

 

Rebounding the steel object right into his face! Clark drops the chair and grabs at his wounded face. Drazon rises to his feet, but Clark cashes in on an adrenaline rush. He pulls Drazon into a standing headscissors, right over top of the chair, feeling a little woozy, he underhooks both of Drazon’s arms.

 

Comet: “Could this be the Dy’er Mak’er!? Once a finisher of his Apostle personality!”

 

CRACK!!

 

Drazon ducks down a bit, kicking Alan straight in the face with a highly stretched mule kick.

 

Riley: “Fucking Drazon and his kicks! Who in the hell bends like that!?”

 

Comet: “Yoga masters.”

 

Drazon straightens out, cracking his back a bit as he feels the aching pain in his lower vertebrae. Clark on the other hand, rubs the stinging pain away from his face. Drazon look fiercely towards Clark, lifting his palm up in a firm, tight clench of the fingers, he thrusts it forward, driving Alan in the solar plexus with a shotei. Clark wants to drop to his knees, but his eyes light up in fear as he looks straight South. All he spots is the shin of JD entering between his legs…

 

-DING

 

Before the pain reaches him, Alan sympathetically looks into the eyes of JD, asking why. As Drazon connects, he returns with his answer.

 

“No DQ, bitch!”

 

Alan hollers out in pain as Drazon pulls him into a tight front facelock. He stands over top of the chair, and with vicious manipulation, drives the top of Alan’s head straight into it with the JD DDT!!!

 

CRAAAAAAAACK!!!

 

The crowd winces in pain as the fragile neck of Alan Clark has now been put into justification! Drazon though, does not let go of his facelock, instead he tightens the hold and wraps his legs around the ribcage of Alan Clark with the body scissors.

 

Comet: “Alan Clark or the Apostle wanted to do whatever it took! I think he’s getting a lesson on that!”

 

Riley: “Drazon has just applied the Wet Cement belonging to Tom Flesher! Look at the choke he’s applying! That’s bloody sick!”

 

The audience goes into a mixture of cheers and boos as Drazon brutally cranks Alan’s neck more and more towards his chest. Suddenly, Drazon lets go of the submission. Rolling Alan off of him, Drazon stands up to his feet. Uncharacteristically grabbing his hair with a worried look on his face. Alan lies on the mat, rubbing the back of his neck in pain, but barely as his arm limply reaches it.

 

Comet: “Oh no. Drazon seems to be worried about what he just did!”

 

Riley: “He’s the most heartless soul in this fed! What the hell do you mean he’s worried!”

 

Comet: “I mean his honor and integrity! Alan or Apostle or whoever has a near broken neck! It’s not right to go for it!”

 

Drazon wipes the sweat away from his forehead, and shakes his head to the crowd.

 

“Not like that!”

 

Shouting out to the crowd, they return cheering respectfully for the reputed maniac. Drazon cracks a bit of his neck, when finally Alan shows more sign of life.

 

Comet: “I think in no doubt, Drazon would have either got the submission or the match would have been called off if that Wet Cement stayed locked in!”

 

Riley: “Yeah, Any move of Flesher’s is guaranteed tap out! Heck, if it wasn’t for him being knocked silly, Alan probably would have already tapped!”

 

Finally Alan rises to his knees, and showing a different side once more, is smiling. He twists his fragile neck to the left, the grin remaining although in pain as he pops it that direction, then twists the other way, popping it some more. He holds both his arms up and invites Drazon to bring it.

 

Riley: “Ok… I think he’s lost his mind now!”

 

Almost angered, Drazon steps forward, gladly to oblige to Clark. However when he reaches down, Clark shows him a thing about being dirty…

 

DING

 

-connecting hard with an uppercut to Drazon’s groin area.

 

“Choke on that!!”

 

Alan replies to Drazon’s comment, looking rather possessed as he glares down at the wounded Drazon. Picking up where he left off, Alan throws his leg viciously into the rear of Drazon. Deciding one is not nearly enough, Alan throws two more toe kicks straight into the spinal area. Drazon sits on the mat, his arms beside him, trying to let the pain leave his system. While sitting though, Alan drops his knee straight into his lower back, this one finally with enough force to Drazon growl out in wounded pain. He reaches down, grabbing JD by the hair and pulls the 243-pound maniac to his feet, before side scooping him, and dropping him over his knee with a pendulem backbreaker.

 

Comet: “Alan almost looks like he wants to put Drazon’s back in the same position his neck is in.”

 

“Come on Drazon! Bring it on!!”

 

Alan begins getting a bit more on the cocky side as he wants to bring the pain to JD. He pulls up Drazon’s legs and crosses them in a figure four like fashion, except receives a kick to the ribs for his troubles. Drazon angrily rolls to his feet and swings a heavy forearm strike, however aiming for Alan’s neck, he realizes what is up and hesitates. The moment of hesitation is all the time Alan needs and he brings his knee up, driving it right into Drazon’s back. As Drazon grabs at his now weakened area, Alan reaches down and grabs his chair. He lifts it up and makes a direct swing.

 

CRACK

 

The blast knocks Drazon forward and to the mat as he lies in pain. His mind possessed, Alan lifts the chair up, and jams the top of it down into Drazon’s lower spine, then holds it there grinding the chair further and further into his back. Drazon attempts to push up out of the ‘hold’ as he feels the painful object spasm and stretch his back. Alan cuts off his leverage though by putting his knee into the upper pat of Drazon’s back. Feeling a few areas of the vertebrae pop back into place as he puts more of his weight on the back.

 

Comet: “An unorthodox maneuver, but I guess all is legal in this battle!”

 

Alan figures if more leverage can be applied, he may be able to get the submission here and now. Dropping the chair he reaches down and grabs the legs of JD, pulling them up and elevates them as high as he can for a Boston Crab! With the spasms and now forced stretching of his internal muscles, Drazon growls out in extreme pain, pounding his fists into the mat to try and relieve some of the intensity pressure.

 

Comet: “A Boston crab! This just may be the maneuver to put JD away!”

 

Riley: “And rightfully so! Hopefully both these men are crippled by the time this battle is done!

 

The referee gets down right in the face of JD, asking him directly if he gives up. Drazon shakes his head as he crawls to the ropes. Alan keeps on the pressure as Drazon grips further and further towards them.

 

Riley: “Ha! They won’t do any good! It’s no DQ!”

 

As if hearing Riley, Drazon stops reaching forward and reaches in reverse instead. Getting a firm handle on the left ankle of Clark, Drazon pulls it inward, tipping the ankle for a twist and allows Alan to tumble away from the hold. Drazon rolls toward his back, trying to stretch out the muscle as Alan aggressively returns, dropping an elbow right on his chest. Drazon rolls away, recovering from the blow and the earlier submission attempt. However Alan wishes for him to stay picking the chair up and slamming it down into his back once more.

 

CRACK

 

Alan drops the chair on top of Drazon’s back and charges straight for the ropes, with a bounce, he makes it to the second, before rebounding off the cable with a Lionsault, right onto the back and on top of the chair on JD!!

 

Comet: “Holy Crap! Alan risking himself to put the pain into Jamie Drazon!”

 

Alan sits up two his knees and holds his chest in pain. However he looks out to the crowd, giving them thumbs up as he grins with the pain he inherited.

 

Riley: “Ok he has to be on speed.”

 

Comet: “The endorphins are pumping and the adrenaline is flowing. This kid is high on life!”

 

Alan rolls Drazon onto his back and suddenly receives this glove mit like palm over top of his face. Drazon clamps on with the Iron Claw, digging it deep into the pressure points accompanied with Clark’s face. Drazon slowly rolls to his knees as Alan drops to his, struggling with the borderline paralyzing hold. The crowd begins to cheer as Drazon reminds them he does have life in him. With the Claw as his leverage, Drazon shoves Alan backward. This force allows Alan to stand back to his feet at the same time as JD.

 

Comet: “Alan trying hard to take out the back of JD, but Drazon has loads of weapons he ain’t prepared for!”

 

Alan the more aggressive, fires forward with a kick-

 

SMACK

 

-Drazon counters by kicking Alan straight in the hamstring! Alan feels the Charlie horse, but retaliates with a right hand anyway. Drazon catches the fist, bends it inward, and fires a front kick straight to Alan’s kneecap. Hitting a sensitive part this time, JD’s adversary doubles over, allowing Drazon to pull him into a front facelock.

 

-but Drazon pauses! He looks down at the neck of Clark, and realizes what he’s about to do.

 

Comet: “Drazon was about to hit a neckbreaker, or even another DDT!!”

 

Riley: “But the sissy won’t do it!”

 

Comet: “Do you ever have a side?”

 

Riley: “Sure… Jantoxer… LONG LIV…”

 

Comet: “If you say Long Live Anybody one more time, I’m going to pop you.”

 

Drazon opts against further damage to the neck, getting another approval from the audience this time. However Alan takes the opportunity once more and powerfully forces JD into the corner. Smacking his back into the middle turnbuckle and crushing his ribcage with Clark’s shoulder. Drazon moans in pain as he grips at his lower back.

 

Comet: “I don’t think Clark had the power to hit his Northern Lights suplex there, but that was just as well!”

 

Clark reaches down, finally grabbing the cable he brought in so long ago. Wasting little time, he wraps it around the throat of JD. The possessed eyes return as Alan sickly looks out to the crowd.

 

“He almost broke my neck! I’ll give him pain!”

 

Riley: “No you silly twat! Janus almost broke your necked… Drazon just FUBARed it!”

 

Comet: “My colleague is unfortunately correct.”

 

He pulls Drazon out of the corner with the cable as his leverage, and tips the heavier opponent onto his shoulders, avoiding the lifting with his neck, he slams Drazon into the mat with the Southern Rock!

 

Comet: “A modified Alabama Slam! That has to rock up Drazon’s ribcage!”

 

Clark rolls JD onto his back, sitting down on top; he grabs both ends of the cable, and lifts straight up, strangling his maniac rival. Getting some good leverage and bending Drazon’s back at the same time, Alan locks the submission as the crowd lend their support.

 

“Make him tap! Make him tap!”

 

However Drazon’s fans also kick in, chanting in return.

 

“You’ll fuck up! You’ll fuck up!”

 

Drazon’s face begins to turn red, as his only support is his right arm. His left arm on the otherhand, is trying to loosen the grip of Clark. However the constant cutting of the air supply forces Drazon to grow groggier and groggier. At a position of where he wants his foe to be, Alan releases the pressure on the neck, turning back to the legs as the crowd continues to cheer. He folds the legs up to shape a four, then proceeds to lift up with the Texas Cloverleaf! Before Drazon can even think about the pain, he begins to unwrap the cable from around his throat. Clark looks out to the crowd, the demonic beam occupying his face for the thousands in attendance to see. Many hope that this will do it right here.

 

Comet: “Drazon’s in serious trouble here! He’s almost been choked out and now he has to deal with the Texas cloverleaf on his weakened back!”

 

Drazon finally starts the rest of his hollering in pain, conscious enough to begin to move, his hands clench deeply into the mat. Finally ripping the cable off and coiling it up in a whip like fashion. Shifting some of Alan’s leverage to his right side, Drazon grips the whip tight with his right hand. Clark feels the resistance of Drazon and begins forcibly trying to bend him back into place. Drazon snaps the wrist with whip in hand.

 

WHA-PEESH

 

KER-SMACK

 

-Connecting and leaving a vicious welt into the lower spine of Clark. Feeling the insane sting occupy his lower back, Clark surprisingly doesn’t let go. Instead opting to increase the pressure as his grin grows more insane. Drazon swings with much more force, cutting through the air with minimal sound vibration…

 

KEEERRRRRRRRR-SMAAAAAAACCCK!!!

 

The whip welts now in the shape of a cross occupy the skin of Alan Clark and he releases the legs. Drazon slowly rolls onto his back, letting the burning sensation flow away. He begins to sit up slowly, feeling the intensity rise in his lower organs. He makes one more whip toward Alan Clark, connecting right over top of his kneecap. The Indian leather with a nice big lined hole inside it.

 

Comet: “Drazon escaped the Texas cloverleaf! Alan should have used more care with that cable piece!”

 

Riley: “Yeah! Never leave your opponent with a weapon! Especially when your opponent is known to act like an axe-wielding maniac.”

 

Clark drops to his knees as Drazon rolls to his chest. Taking some more time as he uses the ropes to assist himself up. Looking upon Clark from the ropes, he spots something very familiar. The mentally ill grin that occupies his face, inviting more pain to come. Drazon for the first time in a while actively opens his eyes, letting the beaming blue representations of psychotic personalities enter his face. He takes a moment to rub his spine, only to invite Alan to bring it on.

 

Comet: “Ah no! These two are from the insane asylum! I’m positive!”

 

Clark returns to his feet and throws a punch by JD. It’s easily blocked, and follows with a quick striking counter, catching Alan in the chest with a fist. The smack is sickening, but Clark remains still, looking into the demonic eyes of JD. He begins to laugh. “Give me more!” shouts Alan, dangerously starting to sound like his Bloodshed persona.

 

Comet: “What is Clark thinking!?”

 

Riley: “I don’t think either man is capable of thinking!”

 

Alan throws another punch, but Drazon cuts it off, connecting with a fist to his bicep. Alan spins away, but is promptly pulled into a full nelson!

 

Comet: “A dragon suplex! NOOO! Don’t do it Drazon!”

 

Riley: “DO IT!!!”

 

Drazon clenches on the nelson tight, but the feeling takes over again.

 

Comet: “Alan Clark has taken Drazon off his game! He’s inviting him to hurt him, but Drazon doesn’t want to exterminate the injury!”

 

Drazon releases the nelson and spins Clark away and back to facing him. Clark begins to laugh at JD, feeling near invincible as the adrenaline finds new pathways to continue flowing through his body. Drazon stands a few steps away, for the first time not sure what to think of his opponent. Alan takes the opportunity and fires a kick straight for Drazon’s testicles…

 

-But Drazon catches the leg!

 

Comet: “Uh-oh!”

 

The pissed off look returning once more, Drazon forcibly yanks Alan Blood Postle  inward and nastily wrenches his leg inward with a dragon screw leg whip. Drazon hangs onto the hold, allowing an extra rip to go into the knee as Clark impacts the mat. Drazon stands up, shakes his head in a denying fashion to Clark, and scissorlocks his wounded leg.

 

Riley: “The Cross Kneebar! The HIZA-JUJIGATAME!!! JD’S FUCKING AVENGE!!!!”

 

Comet: “Alan tried to take advantage but he got caught this time!”

 

Drazon crunches down Clark’s thigh with the scissorlock as he lets his hands grip his ankle, pulling the leg backward in ways nature didn’t intend the body to bend. The expressions on Clark’s face go from insanely grinning, the extremely hurting intense physical pain! Just as the ref gets down in the face, knowing the submission is locked on tight, Drazon begins to crank on the knee even more.

 

Comet: “Drazon avoided the neck as much as he could! Now he’s looking to make Clark tap out fair and square!!”

 

Drazon begins twisting the ankle as he pulls back on the leg. As the ref asks Alan if he would like to give up, the man screams out in a regretful yes as he begins slapping the mat in agonizing pain.

 

Comet: “He tapped out!”

 

Riley: “I don’t know anybody who wouldn’t tap to that move!! Ouch!!”

 

As he hears the bell ring and watches his opponent tap, Drazon mercifully releases the hold before tossing the leg away. The audience begin their strong show of support for Drazon, cheering as he holds his arms up high. However he drops down, resting on the top rope as the ref raises his hand. Drazon lets his hand rise for the moment, but lets it rest. The crowd continues cheering as Drazon regains his breath. Finally after regaining his senses, Drazon stands up with a bit more strength.

 

Comet: “A hard fought victory for Drazon! Alan showed a savage side that was determined to get the victory. However he went up against the savage of savages.”

 

Riley: “That was nutso… Drazon should have ended it with the Wet Cement over 3000 words ago!”

 

Drazon looks down at Clark who holds his knee and neck in crippling pain. He points down to him with the whole crowd to see, and their attention on him.

 

“You! You son… are one psycho son of a bitch!!”

 

Drazon nods his head in approval to Clark, who although he has a near broken neck and leg, nods in a returning approval. The audience begins to cheer at the bizarre showing of respect between the two.

 

Comet: “They give each other props! Good to see!”

 

Riley: “Time to go. My stomach is wrenching enough.”

 

Drazon exits the ring and up the ramp as we cut to commercial.

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The HSBC Arena in Buffalo, New York is lit up like a brilliant beacon for wrestling fans all over the state as the camera roll once again, capturing the capacity crowd cheering to their hearts content as a very special episode of Storm returns. 

 

“Welcome back Citiz-“

 

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

 

The hard bass line strikes of Muse’s ‘Hyper Music’ signal the entrance of the one and only Ace Lezaire, striding out form behind the curtain with a cocky grin on his dial. He stands at the top of the stage, raising his arms to the heavens, thanking them for his looks and talent as…

 

BOOM!

 

…Two tall bursts of pyro explode either side of him, before the Prodigy heads to the ring, waving to the fans graciously as they boo the hell out of him.

 

“Humph…” grunts Comet, not taking kindly to being overshadowed by Lezaire as he leaps up onto the ring apron, raising his arms to the heavens. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted… welcome back, fair citizens! For what has been a memorable Storm thus far, and promises to be one for the books as we approach the next match, and the Main Event draws closer and history is made!”

 

“Damn right, Comet,” replies Riley, nodding his head. “I could talk about the Main Event, and it’s wonderful participants aaalllllll night, but our next match promises to be a rocket buster indeed!”

 

“Rocket buster? You know I don’t like you using that sort of language on the broadcast.”

 

“Sorry, lost my head for a second there…”

 

Funyon’s pleasant voice once again greets the fans as he announces to the world, “Ladies and Gentleman, the following match is a singles match, and is scheduled for one fall… introducing first, from Vancouver, Canada. He weighs in at two hundred and thirty five pounds even… please welcome, The Prodigy, Canada’s Greatest Hope… ACE LEEEEZZZAAAIIIRRRREEEEE!”

 

The cocky Canadian gets nothing resembling a warm welcome as they shout out taunts and abuse to Lezaire, but he simply brushes it off and continues to smile, waving to the fans.

 

His smile suddenly wears off, replaced with a worried frown as "Hero" by Nightrage suddenly kicks in with shredding guitar harmonies and blast beats, as the ramp is lit by brilliant bursts of white pyro!

 

Dace Night Walks down through the smoke and pyro, nodding his head to the beat as the fans cheer for their hero. The White Night climbs into the ring, and throws the horns to the crowd, gaining massive support from the fans in Buffalo! Lezaire focuses instead on the giant SmarkTron which shows vivid images of Dace performing several head spiking moves, and Ace gulps, wondering if that will be ahead for him…

 

“Now this man is someone you can truly be proud of!” Comet proudly proclaims. “He’s begun his quest to weed out the monsters that plague this federation and claim the World Title for his own, and I would love for that day to come soon!”

 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Riley smirks, simply shaking his head as he watches Dace warm up. “He won’t be getting a shot too soon with Flesher and Toxxic hell bent on getting it first.”

 

”And, his opponent…” Funyon begins, “from Birmingham, England. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty two pounds… he is DACE…”

 

 

’FUCKING!’

 

 

“…NIIIIGGGGHHHHTTTTTTTT!”

 

As always, the crowd pops crazily for Dace as he never gets tired of hearing that. He stands across form Lezaire, who jogs on the spot, trying his best to hide his nervousness, but Dace can tell, letting him know with a grin. Nick Soapdish, the referee for this contest, points to the timekeeper and…

 

“We’re underway!” Comet yells. “There’s not much between these men in terms of height and weight, though Dace holds the advantage in power, and he’ll use his no nonsense, high impact style to show Lezaire the ways of Justice!”

 

“Nothing a simple thumb to the eye couldn’t fix…”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

The White Night steps from side-to-side, circling his opponent, almost analyzing him in a way, whilst a lump can be seen in Lezaire’s throat as his eyes dart in every direction, keeping on his guard while Dace keeps him frozen in one spot.

 

“Citizen Lezaire is showing the same uncertainness he displayed against John Duran; his opponent is larger and definitely much stronger than he is,” notes Comet, watching Lezaire back track nervously, “and he’s not too sure how to approach this match, like he’s almost, how you say…out of his depth, Bobbo?”

 

“Nonsense!” Snaps Riley, feeling insulted on Lezaire’s part while the Prodigy slowly approaches Dace, who holds up his hand in the international sign for a tie up. “Was he out of his depth when he DEFEATED John Duran? Sure, he may be a rookie, but I assure you, he’s a diamond in the rough who just in need of a little polishing, and a victory against the White Night would go a long way.”

 

Approaching Dace with Caution, Lezaire raises his hand towards Night’s, the fans surprised at the Canadian’s willingness to play fair and gamble in a test of streng-

 

WHACK!

 

-but they soon realize Ace’s true colors as he brings his hand down across Dace’s jaw with an open-handed slap!

 

“Such utter disrespect from this vagabond!” Proclaims the Spandex Superhero, joining the fans as they jeer the Canadian to no end! “I should have known he stoop to such a level!”

 

“It’s a master stroke, Comet” informs Riley, “sucking Dace in with his helpless and meek act, then showing him who’s in charge, slapping the taste right out of his mouth!”

 

The blow knocks Dace sideways, who rubs his jaw and shakes his head, while Ace simply gloats, seeing the small and wiry frame of Rob Gilbert in front of him instead of the High Priest of Horrorcore.

 

“Hah!” he boasts, leering down at the White Night as he recovers. “You hurt, aye? Huh, I don’t see a champion in you, I don’t know what the big deal is with-“

 

CRACK!

 

-but Lezaire’s spiteful words are silenced by a Chop to the chest from Dace! Lezaire shows his cowardly tendencies once again as Dace stalks him-

 

 

CRACK!

 

-firing off yet another Knife-Edge Chop! The Canadian is backed into the ropes, and then propelled across the ring. As Lezaire returns, Night lowers his head, but it proves to be too early as Ace latches on his neck with a side headlock. Lezaire laughs, shouting, “THIS is your hero? You should be praising me!”

 

’ASS - HOLE! ASS - HOLE! ASS- HOLE!’

 

Lezaire looks around in shock, the fans spiteful words only spurring Lezaire on, but his legs are suddenly taken out form underneath him by Dace with ease, a single leg takedown putting Ace on his back!

 

“Citizen Night was playing possum all along!” Comet proudly announces, as Dace adeptly steps around Lezaire and squeezes his neck like a vice with a headlock. “THAT’S the way it should be done! Lezaire’s minor victory last week may be his undoing against a vastly more experienced Night, who can easily turn the tables and dominate the match against such a foolish opponent!”

 

“Hey, you can’t blame the guy for trying,” answers Riley, trying to think up something in Lezaire’s defense while he winces in pain. “He tried to throw Dace off his game and assert his dominance. He failed… miserably, but as long as he’s learning something, Comet, he’s a real winner!”

 

Showcasing his slippery skills, Lezaire shucks Dace away and rolls onto his back, taking Night around the neck and flipping him onto his back with a headscissors! Ace tries to clamp down on Dace’s neck with the move, but the veteran pries his legs away and whirls back to his feet with ease, Lezaire scampering to his feet also. Ace slips behind his opponent and links his hand s together with a waist lock, but Dace reverses with a go-behind, then lifts Lezaire from his feet and takes him down face first, locking on a front chancre.

 

The fans begin to applaud as Dace attempts to take control, but Ace is determined to hold his own, suddenly surprising Dace by taking his arm and rolling out to the side, keeping the White Night at bay with a wristlock. Lezaire puts enough pressure on the shoulder to get a painful reaction from Dace, before turning his attention back to the neck with a Front Facelock. Knowing his has the power and weight advantage over his foe, Dace pulls himself up to his knees, then his feet as Lezaire trying desperately to wear him back down, but his hold has little effect as Dace shoots forward, nailing Lezaire in the stomach with a knee strike! A second strike doubles Lezaire over and frees Night from the hold, allowing him to trip Lezaire up with a Double-Leg Takedown, before taking a secure hold of his legs, trying to heave Lezaire forward to set up the Lion Tamer!

 

“I’m sure Citizen Lezaire learnt a vital lesson there, Robert; never tangle with Dace Night on the mat!” cries Comet, “as fair Citizen Night looks to end this one early with the dreaded Torture Crab! Lezaire thought he could run rings around Night, but his mat capabilities were not up to the task.”

 

“Fight it, Ace! Please!” shouts Riley, appealing to Lezaire who waves his arms about frantically. “This can’t end so soon, I had such high hopes that Dace’s quest would be cut short!”

 

The severity of his situation soon has Lezaire wriggling and writing about on the mat, trying anything and everything to escape! Just as it seems Dace might have Lezaire over enough to lock in the move, the Prodigy frees his legs from Dace’s grasp and somersaults backward, rolling right onto his feet!

 

‘DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE!’

 

The enthusiastic cheers from the audience and Lezaire’s frightened expression cause Dace to grin, beckoning the so-called Prodigy to tangle with him again. Lezaire backs away, refusing to come any closer and wisely so. Dace sighs in disappointment, not wanting to expend his energy, but Lezaire has forced him to charge forward, elbow out-

 

-but the shrewd Canadian steps aside, letting Dace run right into a knee to the gut! As quick as a flash, Lezaire has spun around Dace and pulled him down with a school boy!

 

ONE!

 

 

… With Soapdish’s eyes on Dace’s shoulders, Lezaire springs his legs up onto the second rope for added leverage!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

“Why that sneaky, underhanded criminal! Citizen Lezaire is going to steal this one!” Comet cries.

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

The fans breathe a sigh of relief as Dace powers out, kicking his legs out and breaking the pin! Lezaire is sent scampering away as Dace gets back onto two feet, scowling at his opponent as he twirls to face him, a mischievous smile on his face.

 

“He may not be able to match Dace in power or technical ability, but he makes up for that with his ‘crafty’ style, and he’s proving himself to be one of the dirtiest players in the game!” Riley claims, batting his eye lids at the budding Canadian. “He reminds me of myself at that age...”

 

“Good thing too then, Robert,” Comet replies, trying to stifle a laugh, “because if his career takes shape the way yours did, he won’t need to rely on skill, just dumb luck.”

 

“And he has plenty of that! Hey, hold on a minute…”

 

Trying to goad his opponent in attempting something rash again, Lezaire holds up the horns, Dace’s patented taunt, for all the fans to see, smirking at Dace as the fans roar their disapproval!

 

‘LE- ZAIRE SUCKS! LE – ZAIRE SUCKS!’

 

… But Dace stands still, stoned faced, waiting and watching. Ace’s smile slowly dissipates as it becomes clear that Dace won’t leave himself open again, forcing the Canadian to charge head long at the White Night. Before Lezaire can pounce, Dace steps aside, letting Ace hit the ropes behind him. Lezaire bounces back and builds up a head of steam, ready to clobber Night with one of his devastating spinning kicks, but the Canadian suddenly finds himself lifted into the air with a tilt-a-whirl from Dace! The High Priest of Horrorcore twirls Lezaire around effortlessly, able to slam him down in a multiple of ways, which Lezaire knows to well.

 

Slipping from his enemies grasp, Lezaire lands back down to earth safely, well, if you call landing in front of the White Night safe, of course. Lezaire improvises, hooking his arm underneath Dace’s and trying to take him over with a Hip Toss, but Dace blocks it, standing firm. With his free arm Dace rears back-

 

CRACK!

 

-rocking Lezaire back with a furious Elbow to the jaw!

 

CRACK!

 

A second elbow knocks Lezaire silly and he looses his grip, allowing Dace to pirouette and face his opponent, lifting him up completely vertical with a Suplex!

 

“Almost effortless in the execution,” admires Comet, watching on as Dace keeps a tight hold, letting the blood flow to Lezaire’s head. “Citizen Lezaire scraped through by the skin of his teeth so far, but his luck has run out!”

 

Dace let’s the fans revel in Lezaire’s predicament, keeping him completely vertical in an impressive sight. The fans begin to worry slightly as Ace places both hands around Night’s neck, before shaking himself free and falling behind the Hardcore Goth! The fans appear stunned as Lezaire wastes no time in pulling Dace down from his arched position-

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

 

-nailing him with the Hangman’s Noose Neckbreaker! The fans all rise from their seats, a sense of doubt creeping into their minds as Ace hooks Night by the leg!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

“Whose lucks run out, eh Comet?” Mocks Riley with a snide grin.

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

Dace kicks out, pushing Lezaire away as he sits up, feeling a painful crick in his neck. Comet has to cringe as the replay is shown in slow motion. “A desperate, devious, but sadly effective move from the conniving Canadian, dragging Dace down at the most vulnerable point as his back was arched and snapping his neck back, ouch…”

 

Lezaire, feeling an injection of confidence, heaves Dace to a vertical base, targeting the neck with forearm blows that have an obvious impact. Lezaire keeps the momentum going, taking Dace by the hand and whipping him into the corner, sternum first!

 

THUD!

 

The harsh whip sends Dace’s head flying back as he hits the corner and staggers back groggily. Lezaire begins to pick up speed as he dashes towards the ropes and climbs to the top turnbuckle, once again mocking Dace by throwing up the horns, gaining more heat from the capacity crowd! Taking his time to get his footing, Lezaire leaps off and throws his arms out like a Superhero, much to Comet’s disgust, flying towards Dace with a Cross Body…

 

‘YYYAAAAAHHHHHH!’

 

… But he’s caught in mid-air! The astonishing sight quells the fans doubts as Dace lowers his head, bringing Lezaire up onto his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry!

 

“Citizen Night positioned himself perfectly, Robert, able to catch Ace without breaking a sweat!”

 

“He may have, Freak, but just look at him,” Riley replies, pointing at Dace, who winces as Lezaire’s weight rests on his neck and shoulders. “Lezaire has done some damage, there’s do doubt about that!”

 

... But in true Horrorcore fashion, Dace simply ignores the pain, standing tall, Lezaire shrieking to escape! But he can’t stop Night lifting him up and ooovvvveeeerrrrr…

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

 

“Oh MY!” exclaims Comet, jumping out of his seat along with the fans. “A reverse DVD drives Citizen Lezaire into the canvas! Robert, I’m sorry to say but he’s NOT getting up from that!”

 

Riley has his head in his hands; peering up only to see Dace cover Lezaire, hooking him by the leg. “I hate to agree, but man, when Dace wants to make an impact, boy, does he ever…”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

The fans chant along with the pin!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE…

 

… But Lezaire kicks out! The crowd let out a collective sigh as Lezaire rolls away, trying to buy himself some time, while Dace simply looks at Soapdish, but the experienced referee holds up just the two fingers. Dace remains steadfast in his approach, keeping his focus as he stalks after Ace, lifting him up into the corner. The White Nights sets about setting the Canadian straight, stepping up onto the second rope and taking a handful of Lezaire’s hair, pounding away with Elbow’s across the forehead, much to the fans delight!

 

BAM! ‘ONE!’

 

The crowd burst to life as Dace mounts and begins to hammer away, the crowd joining in and counting along with every pleasing blow struck.

 

BAM! ‘TWO!’

 

“Someone has to knock some sense into this kid,” Comet remarks. “We’re just lucky to have such a Good Samaritan like Citizen Dace Night here to oblige!”

 

BAM! ‘THREE!’

 

“What a brute, Comet,” shouts Riley in response, “trying to bust open Lezaire’s perfect face like a Neanderthal, with these fans actually supporting him. It’s sickening…”

 

BAM! “FOUR!”

 

BAM! “FIVE!”

 

BAM! ’SIX’

 

BAM! “SEVE-“

 

-But before the fans can holler any more, Lezaire wraps his arms around Night’s ankles and charges forward in utter desperation, dropping Dace’s head on the top turnbuckle! Night’s neck snaps back on impact as Lezaire stumbles away, gaining some distance between he and his opponent. Dace turns back around quickly, only momentarily stunned but Lezaire is onto him in a flash, charging in anger.

 

The shots to the head come to the fore and slow Ace down just enough for Dace to rush forward and meet him in the centre of the ring…

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

 

… Nearly knocking his head clear off with a Yazuka Kick that folds him up on the canvas!

 

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

 

“HOLY Moses!” cries Comet. “Shades of Arn Anderson with that Yazuka Kick taking Ace down.”

 

“That’s all she wrote, Comet, the fat lady has sung, there’s no getting up from that, it’s all academic from … wait, did you say Arn Anderson?”

 

Riley’s grim forecast may very well come true as Dace falls to his knees, pressing his arms into Lezaire’s jest as Nick Soapdish slides over instantly to make the count!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRREEEEEENNNNNNNNOOOOOO!

 

Rolling a shoulder from the canvas, Lezaire breaks the count mere milliseconds before Soapdish’s hand comes down for the final time! The fans boo ferociously, claiming collusion between the referee and the Canadian, but Soapdish still holds up the two fingers, calling it down the middle. Dace knows better than to be distracted by such a thing, knowing Lezaire is hanging on the precipice, and he need only finish him off now.

 

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

 

The fans sense it too as Dace brings Lezaire to his feet slowly, but he’s suddenly cut off as Lezaire sneaks in a thumb to the eye to throw Dace off! The White Nights instantly backs away, his hand covering his eye as the fans let their objections be known, and Soapdish admonishes Lezaire, but the Prodigy doesn’t even know where he is right now!

 

“Instincts, Comet, pure instincts,” explains Bobby, proud of his boy. “He knew he was in trouble and bought himself some time with a simple thumb to the eye.”

 

“Your rhymes do not convince me, Bobbo! Of all the low-down, despicable acts! Yet, I can’t fault Ace in his execution as Dace has been blinded, but only momentarily!”

 

Comet is right as Dace pivots back around to meet his opponent and get his revenge, but Lezaire is able to lift him off the canvas in a Bearhug, before dropping him groin first down across his knee! The minor blows do little damage, but much to disorient Night as he stumbles about, suddenly caught by Lezaire and whipped into the strands.

 

No! Dace reverses the whip, trying to gain the ascendancy back as Lezaire returns off the ropes. Showing great balance, Ace ducks underneath a wild Lariat and moves behind Night, locking one arm behind his back in a chickenwing, while tearing his head back with a face lock!

 

Riley golf claps Ace’s move, inciting many jeers from the crowd. “On the surface, to the uneducated like you, Comet, this may seem like a rest-hold… well, it is, but it’s also a great bit of strategy, working Dace’s neck, trying to wear him down while buying himself some time to recover. It worked like a charm against Gilbert and it’ll work again here.”

 

“Citizen Lezaire best be on his guard,” warns Comet. “Dace Night is no Rob Gilbert; he’s larger, stronger, and much, much more experienced. I doubt there’s a hold he hasn’t been in.”

 

‘ACE – HOLE! ACE – HOLE! ACE – HOLE!’

 

The creative chant from the fans do little to sway Lezaire, amazingly, as the Canadian refuses to let go easily, tightening his hold every time Dace tries to shake himself free. Lezaire, having called upon this hold often in his short SWF career, knows how to get the best result, making sure Dace’s arm is trapped behind him, while clawing at his face and pulling his neck back to keep him still.

 

Suddenly, the White Night shifts all his weight forward, doubling himself over, trying to throw Lezaire over his back and head to the mat below! Thinking quickly, Ace wraps his legs around Night’s midsection with a body scissors, dragging Dace down to the mat and sinking in the hold further!

 

“He’s got Citizen Dace down!” exclaims Comet, not believing his eyes. “Citizen Lezaire proves he’s not a one trick pony; he’s got at least two now, by my count.”

 

“Oh, he’s got many more than that, Comet,” rebuts riley. “Most of his move set caters towards the neck, adding further impact towards the Ace Crusher. This is glorious to watch, isn’t it?”

 

’DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE! DACE!’

 

The crowd disagrees in mass voice, calling upon the White Night to rally and counter Lezaire’s strangle hold, but Lezaire keeps him grounded, giving a thumbs up to Steve’s camera in the process.

 

…But Lezaire’s party is suddenly halted as Dace reaches back and-

 

WHAM!

 

-sends a back Elbow into Lezaire’s skull!

 

WHAM!

 

Another one is sent, scrambling Ace’s brain!

 

WHAM!

 

A third and final Elbow does the job for Night, causing Lezaire to lose nearly total control. Dace slowly works his way back onto one knee; Ace trying to stay latched onto his opponent but to no avail as Night is back on two feet! Lezaire shakes out the cobwebs and attempts another body scissors-

 

-but Dace reaches behind with one and grabs his leg as both entwine around his stomach! The Canadian is sent for a ride whether he likes it or not, as Dace back pedals, running backward right into the corner, squishing the Canadian into the turnbuckles! Lezaire’s hold is finally broken as Dace stumbles forward, trying to gain his bearings once again, but Ace simply won’t let him rest, knowing it would mean his demise as he charges forward-

 

-but Dace pivots around his opponent, taking him in a waist lock! The crowd rise out of their seats in unison as Night links his hands together for maximum leverage, but Lezaire refuses to budge, linking left his leg around Dace’s to block the Suplex! The High Priest of Horrorcore shakes his head as he thumps Lezaire in the back of the head with Elbow shot after Elbow shot, finally breaking Ace’s resistance and lifting over, snapping him down in one fluid motion-

 

 

 

*SLAM!*

 

 

 

-nailing him on the back of his head with a Dangerous German Suplex!

 

“No Nazi could ever rival that Dangerous German!” cries Comet, “as Dace puts Lezaire down for maybe the last time!”

 

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

 

Night hears the fans chant his name in the background, but he’s forced to stop and grab his neck, feeling a sharp twinge after the last move, no matter how much he tries to ignore the searing pain, he can’t. He shifts around, finding Lezaire’s legs pointing to the roof, the poor Canadian folded up like an accordion. Dace just shrugs as he whips Lezaire down to the canvas and hooks him by the leg!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRREEEEEEE… NO!

 

“Thank the lord!” praises Riley. “Lezaire has had some divine intervention tonight, able to kick out of anything Dace throws at him.”

 

“It may have been a different story if Citizen Night could have pinned him straight away,” argues Comet, never liking to see his partner happy, “but no divine intervention will save him now, and neither will I as Dace prepares for the end!”

 

Indeed, Night climbs back to his feet, showing the horns to the crowd and getting a massive reception. He pats his Elbow to the crowd’s delight, pleased with Dace’s form of execution as he waits for Lezaire to climb to his feet. Steve moves around the ring to capture the action, seemingly zooming in on Dace to capture the moment.

 

As the White Night begins his charge, Steve reaches underneath the bottom rope away from the referee’s prying eyes, tripping Dace with a deft touch! As deft as it was, it sends Dace off balance, and Lezaire capitalizes, leaning over and lifting Dace off the mat, throwing him over the top rope with a Hot Shot!

 

“That’s no divine intervention, that’s… Steve intervention!” Comet shouts, wondering if he saw right.

 

The White Night is sent hurtling back towards the centre of the ring, clutching his throat, but Lezaire suddenly stops him cold with a kick to the stomach, turning around and grabbing Dace around the head-

 

 

 

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

 

 

 

 

-bringing his head down across his shoulder with the Stunner! The impact sends Dace flying backward, his head thrown back violently as the crowd leave their seats, stunned!

 

“Ace Crusher! Ace Crusher!” Riley cries over and over again, just as amazed as the fans. “Lezaire hits his finisher for what will be a shocking victory over Dace Night!”

 

Scampering across the canvas, Lezaire throws himself across Dace’s chest, the adrenaline pumping as Nick Soapdish comes over for the begrudging count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOO! Dace brings a shoulder off the mat in the ‘nick’ of time, and Soapdish halts the count at 2 and nine tenths!

 

“WHAT?!?” shouts Riley, absolutely flabbergasted like the rest of us. “How… just, how could he kick out!? I thought Lezaire had it won!”

 

“Never count your chicken before you stunner them, Robert! Ace just hasn’t done enough to put Night down for the count, and he’s finally experiencing the true SWF experience; stuck in the ring with a nutter that just won’t lie down!”

 

Steve visibly curses, thinking he had done enough, but neither he, nor Ace can believe what has happened. Lezaire pulls Dace down to the mat one more time, attempting a second pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRREEEEENNOOOO!

 

Ace is on his knees, distraught, pleading with Soapdish to count the three, but he still claims it was only a two count! The Canadian thumps the canvas over and over, knowing he was so close to victory…

 

…But he attempts to compose himself, knowing he still has a chance if he just works quickly. He looks across the ring, finding Dace already working to his feet, albeit rather gingerly. The Sovereign of Swagger groggily steps across the ring, sending a few swift kicks flying into his sides, doubling him over. Lezaire takes him by the arm and sends him across the ring into the opposite corner, following close behind as he builds up a full head of steam-

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

-but he runs right into a back Elbow to the jaw! The blow has him reeling momentarily, but he tries again, determined to take Night down-

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

-but another Elbow thwarts his plans as he stumbles backward, Dace turning to meet him. Lezaire’s step begins to falter, his brains rattled by constant blows, with another one on the way as Dace uses his foot skills to aim at Ace’s head with a Roundhouse Kick!

 

Lezaire manages to duck underneath the blow, but whirling around to meet his opponent again sends Ace’s head into a spin, allowing Dace to charge once again, elbow out-

 

 

*BAM!*

 

 

-hitting a Running Elbow that knocks Ace out on his feet! The Canadian is sent hurtling into the ropes, bouncing off but not under his own volition, as Dace takes him and brings him by his side, bringing him into a Double Underhook as the crowd suddenly rising to their feet!

 

“No wonder Citizen Lezaire couldn’t retaliate, he’s taken so many blows to head, he won’t know who he is for days!”

 

“I have to agree, Comet,” Riley replies regrettably. “Not after this move, he might not get up for a long time…”

 

The cheers ring long and loud throughout the HSBC Arena as Dace signals for the end, forgetting the pain shooting through his neck as he grunts and heaves Lezaire into the air, throwing caution into the wind, along with Lezaire’s body, bringing him down…

 

 

 

 

…Down…

 

 

 

 

‘RRRAAAAAAHHH!’

 

 

 

 

 

“Defenestration!” Both announcers shriek at once, as the Double Underhook DDT leaves its brutal mark, burying Ace’s head into the canvas as his body lies limp next to the ropes. Dace looks down at him, almost pitying him for a second, before hooking him by the near leg, as Steve comes over to film the last moments of this match…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

Steve suddenly brings his eye away from the camera, looking at Lezaire lie motionless…

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTTTTHHHHHHHRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

… But the count stops at two. Dace looks towards Soapdish, who simply shakes his head, pointing at the bottom rope, where Lezaire’s foot resides!

 

“What did I tell you, Comet!?” cries Riley, finding some hope. “Pure instincts from this young boy! The ring presence of a general! The ring smarts of a…“

 

“…Steve.”

 

“A Steve?”

 

“It was Citizen Steve, you foolish fool!” shouts Comet as he points to Riley’s monitor, the replay showing Steve taking Lezaire’s foot and placing it on the bottom rope! “But why would he do such a thing! I thought he was a friend of justice, but collaborating with the enemy, why that’s tantamount to treason!”

 

Looking through the ropes at Steve, Dace Night growls, but Steve wants no part of him, already regretting helping Lezaire once again. Soapdish leans over the top rope, furious with Steve’s interference, whilst Dace climbs to his feet, raising the horns to the fans once more, listening to their cheers ring out, but one part of the audience rumbles and roars it’s disapproval as they part…

 

The White Night leans over to bring Lezaire to his feet, but somehow, the Canadian shoots off a low blow, rocking the High Priest of Horrorcore back towards the ropes. Suddenly, the source of the disturbance makes itself known as none other than Sean Davis hops over the guard rail, Kendo Stick in hand!

 

“What’s that vile, nefarious evildoer doing here!?” cries Comet in vain.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” replies Riley. “He lost to Dace Night on Smarkdown, and after Toxxic’s motivational speeches, he’s decided to do something about it!”

 

Has Dace stumbles into the ropes back first, Davis looks around at the fans, grins, and then lets a Kendo Stick shot-

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

-thunder into the back of Dace’s head, snapping his head forward! He quickly flees the scene, Nick Soapdish none the wiser as he turns back around after dealing with Steve, finding Night stumbling about like a drunkard, unable to gain his bearings. Lezaire capitalizes on this ‘fortunate’ turn of events, bringing Dace down face first with a Drop Toe Hold!

 

The effects of the Defenestration still distorting his mind and shaking him up, Lezaire slowly pivots around, crossing Night’s legs over and lacing his leg through, reaching over Dace’s back…

 

… And locking on a Facelock!

 

“It’s a Cross STF!” Riley cries triumphantly. “Like a true champion, Lezaire uses anything and everything to his advantage, using Davis’ interference to bring Dace down with a vicious submission hold!”

 

“It’s a travesty of justice, Robert! First Steve does the unthinkable by aiding Ace, and then Davis appears to drive a final nail in the coffin with that devastating shot to the head! I just can’t believe it!”

 

Lezaire pulls back on Dace’s neck, the pain he’s feeling now unimaginable as Lezaire torques the neck to his will. The White Night digs his nails into the canvas as Soapdish slides over, crying “Will you give up?!?”

 

…Dace grimaces in pain, but continues crawling across the mat, inch by inch, Lezaire doing everything in his power to stop him. Suddenly, Dace feels a burning twinge in his neck, and he instinctively…

 

“…TAPS! He tapped out!” Riley cries happily as Soapdish points to ringside.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Lezaire breaks the hold as quick as he can, fleeing the ring as Dace moans out in pain, while Funyon announces…

 

“The winner of this match via submission… ACE LEZZZAAAIIIIRRREEEE!”

 

“Ace Lezaire mercilessly targets the neck and employs the aid of outside interference to somehow pull out the victory here tonight! It’s… it’s… It’s an injustice and I won’t stand for it!”

 

“Pipe down, freak!” Riley yells. “There’s nothing you can do now. As the say, by hook or by crook and Lezaire lived up to that, using everything in his power to get the win, and I, for one, am proud of him, even if these people aren’t!”

 

The roar from the fans is deafening as they rain jeers down on Ace Lezaire, and Steve, who looks down in a somber mood while his idiotic partner continues his dazed and confused celebrations all the way to the back.

 

“This won’t set Citizen Night back one bit, Robert, you’ll see. He’ll continue his quest for the World Title, and hopefully, it won’t be three on one next time! That vile Toxxic had something to do with this, I just know it…”

 

“Don’t be silly, Comet. Toxxic would much rather deal with Dace on his own, without any help, just one on one. You can just put this down to an over-zealous follower getting his revenge.”

 

“You may be right, Bobbo, but I’m not worrying to much; Toxxic zealots will get what’s coming to them as Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis goes up against the team of the Masked Man and Todd Cortez for the Tag Team Titles! And that’s coming up, NEXT!”

 

The scene fades out on Dace Night climbing to his feet, a fire in his eyes as he shows the fans the horns once again, promising to them he’ll claim the World Title…

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"Welcome back, citizens, to S-W-F STOOOOOOOOOOOOOORM!"

 

The HSBC Arena fans in Buffalo, New York, goes stark-raving mad as the SWF’s supposed flagship show explodes back onto the airwaves! As the cameras pan the arena, legions of fans can be seen waving Tom Flesher signs, which is a refreshing change of pace. Nevertheless, the cameras pan to ringside, where Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley sit.

 

"It’s been a thrilling, action-packed night so far," Comet continues, "but we’ve still got three matches to go! Two titles are on the line, and a hometown hero makes his triumphant return!"

 

"Welcome to Flesher country!" Riley grins, "although, I kinda hate having something in common with the lot of these blithering idiots, but, you know, I can deal. Mr. Flesher’s match with Toxxic later just might steal the show."

 

"Just might, Bobbo. Up next, however, we have a Tag Team Title match! The team of Hollywood Boulevard held the tag titles, until Citizen Van Siclen decided to have some fun in the sun. Citizen Cortez was forced to find a mystery partner and, well, the partner came to him, in the form of the United States Champion, The Masked Man."

 

"This is going to be some match," Riley adds, "I mean, in their first ‘defense’, the deliciously-named 42nd Street take on the superpower team of Revolution Zero!"

 

"Toxxic has selected choice allies, to be sure," Comet agrees, "and his motivational techniques are working. Spike Jenkins captured the SWF Cruiserweight Title from Austin Sly on Smarkdown, and Sean Davis went toe-to-toe with the High Priest of Horrorcore, Dace Night."

 

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Funyon begins, "The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the Smarks Wrestling Federation TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS! Introducing first, the challengers!"

 

For the second time tonight, all of the house lights in the arena go on full power, and the Buffalo fans, sensing what’s to come, begin jeering to their hearts’ content.

 

"WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!"

 

With that, "Battle Ready" by Otep kicks into high gear, and bolts of lightning SPEAR down from above-

 

*BOOOOOOOM!*

 

-igniting red and white pyro all across the entrance! Three men and a baby (well, sort of) appear at the top of the ramp, and, somehow, the jeering intensifies as Funyon makes his announcement.

 

"…weighing in at a combined weight of four-hundred and ninety-five pounds, representing REVOLUUUUUUUUUUUTION ZEROOOOOOOOO and accompanied by Jet and Marcus Washington, they are the team of SEAN DAVIS and the NEW SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION, ‘HOLLYWOOD’ SPIKE JENKINS!"

 

The Revolution stalks down the ramp, ignoring the hatred they are receiving. As Jet and Marcus take their spots at ringside, Spike and Sean climb up onto the apron and step into the ring. Ever the showboat, Spike raises his arms in the air, showing off his championship, while Davis stands ominously with his arms crossed. Spike unfastens the belt from around his waist and hands it to referee Mark Hebner, telling him to keep it in good hands. Hebner hands it to the timekeeper, and Spike grumbles.

 

Without another moment, the lights begin to strobe, blue smoke billows out from the entrance, and Electric Six’s "Danger (High Voltage!)" echoes through the HSBC Arena! Two figures appear in the smoke, as if they were walking down the actual mean streets of New York City themselves.

 

"…at a combined weight of 469 pounds, hailing from the street from which they have their name, they are the CURRENT REPLACEMENT SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD, TODD CORTEZ AND THE SWF UNITED STATES CHAMPION THE MASKED MAN, FORRRRRRRTY-SECOND STREEEEET!"

 

Cortez has determination etched on his face, as he points to his crucifix necklace and then up to heaven. The Masked Man, meanwhile, produces a blow-up doll, which he clutches tightly to his body as he walks down the ramp. Cortez has the Tag Title draped over his shoulder, while Mask has both titles fastened around his waist, holding the briefcase in one hand and the doll (let’s call her Mandy) in the other. Once they reach the ringside area, all unnecessary items are set down, and the team enters the ring. After Mark Hebner receives the tag titles, he shows them to Revolution Zero, then to 42nd Street, and then for all the fans, before calling for the bell!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

Once the bell rings, the challengers charge across the ring, jumping the not-really-but-since-Mike's-gone-they-are champions before they can act! Jenkins pounces on Masked Man, while Davis and Cortez pair off for the first time in an SWF ring, and this match is underway with a donnybrook! Spike spins MM around, rocking him backwards into the corner with right hands before driving his knee into his ribs! Meanwhile, Davis clubs on Cortez's back with several stiff forearm shots before standing him upright and sending him into the ropes. Davis catches Cortez on the rebound, but before he can press him up, Cortez frees himself from his grasp, and falls behind him. Before Sean can react, Cortez takes him by the back of the head and runs to the ropes, hurling The Perfect Storm up and over the top rope down to the floor!

 

"I can’t believe my eyes!" Comet proclaims, "The Urban Legend just disposed of the mammoth Sean Davis, sending him over the top rope and all the way to the floor!"

 

"He might be phat and stupid and pop-n-fresh now," Riley growls, "but it won’t last long. Davis and Spike are under new management, and that’s what’s going to drive them to gold, or, in Spike’s case, double gold."

 

With one half of Revolution Zero disposed of, Cortez attacks Spike, pulling him away from Masked Man, giving the cult favorite some space to recover. Cortez fires off some right hands of his own at the cocky Cruiserweight champion, and then sends him into the corner. Cortez charges in, and then latches himself to Jenkins, following through with a monkey flip that sends Spike through the air...but Hollywood completes and rotation and comes down onto his feet...only for Masked Man to charge out of the corner and swing his arm out, nailing him with a lariat! Masked Man mounts Spike's shoulders and starts hammering away, giving him a receipt for the earlier attack, and then drags him up off the canvas, grabbing him by the head and tossing him into the corner! Masked Man gets a few more shots in to daze Spike, and then backs off, waving Cortez on. The Urban Legend runs across the ring, gaining momentum, and CRUSHES Spike in the corner, driving the wind out of his body as he collides with the cruiserweight star! Spike falls forward out of the corner, and then rolls out under the bottom rope, falling to the ringside floor, while the fans find themselves applauding the efforts of Cortez and MM thus far! Jet rushes over to Spike, checking to see if he's OK, and also protesting the double team tactics of 42nd Street. Masked Man heads over to the ropes, points down at Jet, and then licks the top rope, drawing a laugh from the crowd and a look of disgust from the Revolution Zero valet!

 

"Blech! Sweaty bodies have rubbed against those ropes all night long," Riley begins, "and Masked Man decides to LICK them? Someone's gonna need some penicillin!"

 

"Well, Bobbo, good hygiene or not," Comet replies, "42nd Street has established dominance early on…but what that has to do with licking ring ropes, I’ll never know."

 

Spike charges in, and is followed by a recovered Davis, but before the four competitors can lock horns, Hebner steps in between and orders a man from each team out of the ring. Spike tells Davis that he's good to go, so Sean steps out. Meanwhile, the members of 42nd Street begin bickering over who's going to take on Spike, until Masked Man calms Todd down, and whispers something to him. Cortez looks at Masked Man in bewilderment, but simply shrugs, as the two engage in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors! MM draws rock, while Cortez draws paper, and Masked Man starts stomping up and down, complaining that he wanted to start the match off. Cortez attempts to calm him down, but then quickly turns away and swings his arm around, flooring the charging Spike with a clothesline! The Urban Legend waves Spike on, urging him to get up, and when he does he bolts for Cortez, only to be carried over with an arm drag by the man from The Streets! Cortez paces himself, keeping an eye on Spike, who backs up into the corner, visibly po'd at the fact that 42nd Street has maintained their early momentum. Jenkins begins to stall, pacing the ring and backing up each and every time Cortez inches near.

 

"I’m sure the cruiserweight champion didn’t expect this," Comet points out, "Citizen Jenkins seems even more high-and-mighty than usual, but Cortez is outwrestling him, and that might bruise his swelling ego."

 

"Comet, Spike isn’t high anymore, but he certainly is mighty. I’ll tell you this – as soon as he gets his mojo flowing, Jenkins will be unstoppable, just like he was against Sly on Smarkdown."

 

Finally, Hollywood advances forward, lunging…and driving his thumb right into Todd’s right eye. After a wave of jeers from the Buffalo crowd, Spike sneers at them and takes a hold of Cortez’s head, lifting his arm up, palm-upward, sending an uppercut into his opponent’s jaw! The Urban Legend reels from the blow, so Jenkins does the only logical thing to do – he fires off another. After a third open-palm uppercut, Hollywood grabs Todd by the neck and walks him over to the nearest ropes, where he drags his opponent’s face against the top rope! Unlike Masked Man’s gesture earlier, this causes only pain and discomfort for the Urban Legend, as Spike drags him from one turnbuckle to his own turnbuckle, where he tags in Sean Davis! The HSBC Arena fills with jeers once again, as the Perfect Storm steps through the ropes and into the ring for the first time (officially) in the match. Cortez is still reeling in the corner, and Davis takes advantage of this by hitting an early barrage of punches right to the Urban Legend’s midsection. Sean then presses Todd back against the ropes and grabs his wrist, forcefully whipping him to the opposite side of the ring. Cortez rebounds, and the Storm lifts his leg up, anticipating a big boot, but the quicker Todd ducks down, under Davis’ leg, and crawls over to his corner, tagging in The Masked Man! The Masked Avenger sees what he’s up against, however, and quickly drops the tag rope, claiming he was never holding it. Hebner knows better, surprisingly, and verbally forces TMM to enter the ring.

 

"Citizen Davis is clearly the biggest and strongest of these four men," Comet helpfully points out, "but if 42nd Street uses their collective speed to keep the Perfect Storm off of his game, the match will be theirs!"

 

"But that’s where Spike comes in," Riley counterpoints, "HE has the speed to go toe-to-toe with the supposed champions, and that’s why Spike and Sean Davis are a fabulous tag team, and that’s why they’ll be the new champions. They complement each other perfectly."

 

With trepidation, the United States Champion enters the ring, asking himself why he was so eager to start the match. Still, Davis isn’t the type of man that just stands there and waits; no, he CHARGES FORWARD! Of course, the quicker Masked Man ducks the charge, and as Sean turns around, he hits the big man with rapid-fire right hands to the face.

 

Sadly, it’s like masturbating with motor oil (not that I’ve tried). It’s senseless, and only hurts you in the long run.

 

After TMM stops to shake some feeling back into his arm (another side effect of the above), Davis stares a cold, steely stare at Mask, completely unfazed! Before the Sexual Maskosaurus can react, the Perfect Storm cocks his head back, and then FIRES it forward, blasting him with a humongous headbutt! TMM stumbles backwards, but Davis grabs him by the arm, whipping him towards the other side…no, he pulls him back, before scooping him up and whipping around, drilling him into the mat with a BIG powerslam! Davis stays right down on top of Masked Fury, pressing his forearm against his mask as Hebner counts the first pin of the match!

 

"ONE!"

 

 

 

"TWO!"

 

 

Mask weasels a shoulder up!

 

"The power and strength of Sean Davis are nearly unmatched!" Comet announces, "after a headbutt and a powerslam, he caught the United States Champion in a close near-fall situation!"

 

The Perfect Storm isn’t bothered by the Masked Avenger, as he easily lifts him up by the head. Once both men are in a standing position, Davis puts a mammoth hand on either side of Mask’s face, leaning back for another headbutt-

 

*STOMP!*

 

"ARGH!"

 

-but the crafty United States Champion decides to stomp as hard as he can onto Davis’ right foot, catching him off guard and causing incredible discomfort and pain in the process! With Sean doubled over, Mask takes a step forward and lifts his right knee up, nailing Davis right in the nose with it! With the big man fazed, TMM quickly goes over to his corner and tags in Todd Cortez, and both men rush towards Davis! Taking advantage of the five second rule, both members of 42nd Street grab one of Davis’ legs, before heaving him into the air…and dropping him throat-first across the top rope! Jenkins and Marcus Washington argue with referee Mark Hebner about this ‘obvious cheating’, but this only buys the replacement champions more time! As the Perfect Storm recoils from the hot shot, Mask and Cortez leap into the air, shooting their legs out and attacking Sean’s sternum with a double dropkick that pushes him against the ropes! Hollywood finally stops arguing with Hebner, only to see Todd and Mask interlock arms like gay lovers and run forward, nailing the largest third of Revolution Zero with a double clothesline that sends him over the top rope and down to the floor!

 

"I can’t believe this!" Comet exclaims, "it looks like 42nd Street has overcome the seemingly insurmountable odds of going one-on-one with Sean Davis!"

 

"But they DIDN’T!" Riley cries, "they didn’t go one-on-one with Sean Davis, they had to go two-on-one just to knock him off of his feet! This is unjust!"

 

Spike decides to go head-on into the action, entering the ring and confronting 42nd Street about their misdeeds. Of course, he doesn’t use words, just his fists, as he charges at Masked Man, swinging his arm around for an elbow smash…but TMM ducks, and with Jenkins’ back to him, he runs his fingernails down his back, executing a deliciously vicious back rake! Spike cries out in agony, dropping to his knees and rolling under the bottom rope, going outside of the ring to consult with his team.

 

"JEN – KINS – SUCKS!"

 

"DAY – VIS – SUCKS!"

 

"TOXX – IC – SUCKS!"

 

"They certainly are covering all of the bases," Comet notes.

 

The four members of Revolution Zero turn to the crowd, hollering for them to quiet down. Meanwhile, back in the ring, Masked Man is playing up the positive reaction for all it's worth, walking across the ring and doing Hogan poses for the fans, who eat it up like delicious, homemade chocolate chip cookies. Cortez warily eyes his eccentric tag partner, only to be called over by Masked Man. Todd approaches his new friend, and soon finds an arm draped across his shoulders.

 

"Is he hitting on him?" wonders Riley.

 

"You tell me. Don't you have your gaydar running tonight?"

 

Thankfully Masked Man is NOT making a pass at Todd, because that would just be...eww. Not for this audience. Instead, Masked Man begins kicking his legs out like a Rockette, and attempts to get the straight edge street thug to join in! After pondering the silliness of it, Cortez decides to let loose for once, and he and Masked Man start doing a kick line across the ring, drawing a MEGA-POP~ from the fans! Feeling as though they're being treated like a joke, Revolution Zero bolt under the bottom rope back into the ring, out for blood. Masked Man and Cortez continue kickin' on, and as Jenkins charges ahead of Davis, 42nd Street channels the energy from their kick line into a DOUBLE YAKUZA KICK~ that floors the Cruiserweight Champion! Davis growls, and rushes forward with both arms outstretched, but the 42nd Street boys duck the shot, and Masked Man follows up with the mother of all counters...he pantses Davis in mid-ring! The roar of laughter from the crowd stuns Davis, who rolls out of the ring and fumbles around desperately in order to cover his derriere. Once he does, he turns and scolds the laughing Masked Man, who mocks him from inside the ring.

 

"Well, Masked Man and Cortez seem to enjoy making asses out of Spike and Sean tonight!"

 

"Speaking of asses...is it me, or does Davis have some of that ghetto booty goin' on?"

 

"Robert, I'm very open minded, and put up with you on a near daily basis. Even still, don't ever...EVER...expect to get into a debate about Sean Davis' buttocks with me, okay?"

 

The Buffalo crowd roars at the ingenuity of 42nd Street, but it doesn’t last long, as the embarrassed-but-really-really-really-pissed-off legal man, Sean Davis, reenters the ring. Even the Masked Man doesn’t notice him as he brings his masked self out of the ring and into his corner, but Cortez turns around, just to have a giant black fist slam into his face! The force almost sends Todd onto the mat, but the ropes are there to catch his fall. Unfortunately, Davis stalks towards him, taking him by the arm and whipping him towards the opposite ropes. As Cortez bounces back, the Storm decides to join in on the fun, pressing against the opposite ropes and building up momentum, before leaping into the air and driving his shoulder into Todd’s sternum, immediately dropping him down to the mat with a thud. Davis then begins raining stomps down onto the Urban Legend, until he’s stopped by the obnoxious Spike Jenkins, who, from his corner, begs to be tagged in! Davis obliges, and drags Cortez over to the corner, before tagging in the Cruiserweight Champion. At Spike’s request, Sean places Todd in a front facelock, and Jenkins scales the turnbuckle, perching on the top rope. He then leaps off, bending his arm and driving the point of his elbow into the back of Todd’s neck, which sends the Urban Legend down to a knee! Spike then starts slapping at the head of Cortez, all the while taunting him. Jenkins pulls Todd into a facelock, looking out to the crowd before hooking the waistband on Todd's bands and carrying him over with a snap suplex. Jenkins keeps hold of Cortez, rolling both he and the Urban Legend to their feet and again hitting a snap suplex. Jenkins looks to make it a trifecta, but he hesitates, looking out at the booing crowd...and then simply jams a knee into the sternum of Todd Cortez!

 

"Well, I think it’s safe to assume that Citizen Jenkins didn’t enjoy that Super Rockette Kick," Comet proclaims, "he looks to be in a fit of rage right about now!"

 

"It’s definitely not the munchies," Riley helpfully slides in, "it’s the determination and the will to win. Toxxic has worked miracles on this man, and it’s going to show now."

 

"TOXX – IC – SUCKS!"

 

Jenkins glares at sections of the sold out HSBC Arena, silently wishing death on them as he brings Cortez up to his feet and grabs the back of his head, running forward and forcing his face into the top turnbuckle!

 

*BAM!*

 

…a second time!

 

*BAM!*

 

…a third!

 

*BAM!*

 

The Urban Legend stumbles backward, and Spike pushes off of the ropes, running forward and swinging his arm out, catching Todd under the jaw, and then leaping forward, falling down to the mat with a neckbreaker drop. Cortez is rattled, and Spike keeps his arm around his neck, squeezing tightly with a chinlock! Immediately, the SWF’s only Romanian begins clapping for his 42nd Street ally, and, surprisingly, some of the Buffalo fans catch on, and begin clapping along for the Urban Legend!

 

"Listen to these fans, would you? Bandwagon jumpers, the whole lot of 'em!" Riley spits.

 

"I suppose it doesn't hurt Cortez or Masked Man,” Comet defends, “that they're taking on Davis and Jenkins."

 

"True enough,” Riley agrees, “'Spike Jenkins' sounds like a bully in a John Hughes movie."

 

Despite the criticism of Robert Riley, Spike continues to wear down the young man from The Streets by keeping his arm wrapped around his neck and squeezing away. The more pressure applied to the hold, the wearier Cortez grows. Davis shouts words of encouragement from his corner, and Jet screeches from ringside that she wants to see Todd tap. Masked Man, who luckily has had his hand on the tag rope this whole time (and not on a certain body part) starts pounding on the turnbuckle pad and stomping his foot on the apron, drawing the crowd into a rally for Cortez. Cortez slowly starts getting up to his feet, using whatever strength he’s got in the reserve tank to push up. Once on his feet, he fires off several elbows to the bread basket of Spike, finally able to break the hold! Visibly enraged, Jenkins comes back towards Cortez, but cannot react as Todd brings an open hand down across his chest…

SMACK!

 

“WOOOOOOOOO!”

 

…and stuns him with a chop! Spike reels, and Cortez again swings his arm up…

 

SMACK!

 

“WOOOOOOOOO!”

 

…further reddening the chest of Spike Jenkins! Jenkins stumbles back to the ropes, reaching for Davis but not even close to making the tag. Cortez takes hold of Spike’s arm, and sends him to the opposite side, but Spike puts the brakes on in mid-move and reverses, sending Todd in. Jenkins makes the mistake of ducking his head, and Cortez comes off the ropes and kicks him right back up into a standing position! Spike stumbles back, and Cortez backs up as well, only to shuffle his feet forward and target Spike with a superkick…that gets caught! Spike tosses Todd’s leg out, turning him so Cortez isn’t facing him, and quickly locks his arms around his waist and carries him over with a release German Suplex! Rather than go for the pin after the move that won him the cruiserweight championship, Jenkins stands up and pulls the wounded Cortez to his feet, dragging him into Revolution Zero territory and tagging in the Perfect Storm. The hot New York crowd greets Davis with boos as he enters the ring, and they only get louder as both he and Spike milk the five count for all it’s worth and begin stomping Todd down in their own corner!

 

“Seems to me like Cortez is getting a receipt for 42nd Street’s double team tactics earlier,” Comet points out.

 

“And deservedly so,” Riley snaps back, “Hammurabi’s Code, after all - an eye for an eye. Well, not literally.”

 

Once Hebner hits five, Spike gets one last kick in for good measure and exits the ring, watching as Davis pulls Cortez out of the corner, only to duck down and hook him around the waist, then drive him backwards, ramming him into the corner again! Davis unloads with a flurry of right hands, viciously clubbing at the temple of Todd! Davis drags him out of the corner, yanking his arm so that Todd stumbles towards him before scooping him up across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and planting him on the canvas with a Samoan Drop that shakes the ring! Davis leans back, pulling Todd’s leg up as Hebner hits the canvas for the count.

 

 

”ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!!”

 

 

 

“THR…NO!” MASKED MAN BREAKS UP THE COUNT!

 

The crowd cheers, as Masked Man turns to them and starts thrusting his hips out in a humping motion, drawing some laughter with the applause. Frustrated, Davis gets up and spins Sexual Maskosaurus around…only for Masked Man to start making the humping motions towards him! A disgusted Davis slowly backs away, as Masked Man inches closer with his hips thrusting outward…BACKING DAVIS RIGHT INTO A ROLL UP FROM CORTEZ!

 

”ONE!”

 

 

”TWO!!”

 

 

 

 

”THR…SHOULDER UP!”

 

“What the hell is Masked Man doing? Cortez should take him to be neutered!”

 

“Seems to me like 42nd Street’s motto is ‘whatever works’, Robert.”

 

“Whatever works? There’s a freakin’ line, Comet, there’s a freakin’ line that Mask is stepping and you just DON’T cross that line! He’s getting DANGEROUSLY close!”

 

Hebner ushers Masked Man out of the ring, making sure to keep his distance just in case TMM’s hormones are still raging. While Masked Man briefly discusses the value of Portobello mushrooms with Hebner, Davis rolls to his feet, and waves Cortez on, charging at him with a big boot. Cortez looks up, seeing Davis eyeing him, and quickly gets his own leg up…

 

*CHING!*

 

…up into the junk of Davis, that is!

 

Sean starts singing soprano and flops to the mat, while Cortez falls backwards, visibly spent.

 

“You talked about 42nd Street’s motto, and I think I know what Revolution Zero’s is, Comet.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Holding our own.”

 

Enraged at the missed foul, Marcus Washington jumps up on the ring apron, verbally bashing Hebner for losing control of the match. While Hebner pleads his case, Masked Man again seizes the opportunity, sneaking back into the ring and pulling Cortez closer to their corner! Masked Man ducks out to the apron and urges the crowd to keep it on the DL by holding a finger up to his lips. Spike, not one to stand for being screwed with, enters the ring as Marcus continues to provide the distraction, and starts pulling Cortez further back towards HIS corner…but Hebner turns around in the nick of time to see it! Spike drops Todd’s leg and pleads his case, saying that Masked Man did it first, but Hebner has none of it, and shoves him out to the apron. Masked Man sees this and continues with the theme of taking advantage of a situation, and enters the ring again, pulling his partner even closer towards their corner! Masked Man is able to escape undetected again, and both Jet and Marcus throw their hands up at ringside, protesting the officiating in this match. Cortez crawls towards Mask, while Spike leans in as far as he can, urging Davis to tag him ASAP. Sean reaches out, and manages to tag Spike, much to the displeasure of the fans in Buffalo. Jenkins rushes towards Cortez, looking to stop a tag from being made, but at the last possible second Cortez reaches out…

 

…Masked Man does the same!

 

Jenkins inches closer!

 

The crowd is on the edge of their seats!

 

Everything…seems…to…be…happening…in…slow…motion…

 

…AND MASK IS TAGGED IN~!

 

Jenkins tries to put on the brakes, but runs right into a shoulder block to the ribs from Mask while he’s still on the apron. Mask steps in, and the fans are rabid as he starts dishing out right hands like a prizefighter! Spike is dazed as Mask hammers him until he’s against the ropes, then whips him in. As Hollywood rebounds, Mask ducks down and, when his opponent reaches him, he stands up, sending him sailing through the air with a high back body drop! Davis runs back in to aid his partner, but finds himself stunned by the mighty right hand of the Mask! MM grabs Davis by the head, and pulls him over to where Spike is getting to his feet. Taking Jenkins by the head as well, Masked Man bellows out a loud “YEEEE-HAW!” for some unknown reason before smashing their heads together!

 

“Shades of The Three Stooges!” exclaims Cyclone Comet.

 

Davis falls to his back and rolls out of the ring, while Spike seeks refuge in a corner. Masked Man doesn’t let up on his assault, as he follows Spike in and yanks him out of the corner, sending him into the opposite one. Before Spike can crash into the turnbuckles, the cocky cruiser grabs onto the top rope, propelling himself up and over a charging Masked Man! Masked stops short of the corner as well, but when he turns to face Spike, he’s kicked in the gut and locked in a front facelock. Jenkins then runs up the ropes, kicking off of the middle rope and spinning around, hitting a Tornado DD…NO! Masked Man shoves Spike away, but Jenkins runs right back at him…only to be dropped face first onto the middle rope, as Masked Man scissors his leg and nails a drop toehold! The cameraman gets a close up of Spike’s swollen and twisted face, as Mask drags him out of the corner by his legs, then locks them both under his arms and propels Spike up and over with a wheelbarrow suplex!

 

“LET’S – GO – MASK!”

 

“LET’S – GO – MASK!”

 

“I can’t believe this, Bobbo!” Comet exclaims, “The fans really are warming up to the Romanian Sensation! I think teaming with Todd Cortez has done wonders!”

 

“I guess these fans really enjoy blatant cheating then,” Riley snipes, “I mean, this is so far out of hand, it’s ridiculous!”

 

As soon as the suplex is dished out, the United States champion floats over, pressing on top of Spike for the pin as Hebner drops down to count!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

“THREEEENO!” Sean Davis enters the ring and stomps down on Mask, breaking up the pin!

 

“What do you say to that cheating, Bobbo?”

 

“Completely acceptable. Revolution Zero is a bit behind on the cheating scale, so they need to catch up.”

 

Comet sighs.

 

As Hebner admonishes Davis and sends him back to his corner, Spike and Mask both crawl up to their respective standing positions. TMM swings a wild right hand, but Jenkins ducks under his arm, before wrapping his own arm around Mask’s neck and dropping down to his knees, sending Maskosaurus’ jaw right into his shoulder with the Minor Threat! The force of this jawbreaker sends Masked Fury backwards…and right onto his ass! As he sits there, dazed, Spike slowly gets to his feet and then runs at TMM, swinging his leg out and punting Mask right in the mask!

 

*CRACK!*

 

The force of the kick hurts even Spike, as he backs up and shakes feeling into his leg while Mask falls to the mat, clutching his face and shrieking in Romanian. However, Jenkins uses the ropes to support him as he walks over to his corner, again tagging in the Perfect Storm! As Davis enters the ring, Cortez clutches the tag rope in his corner and reaches out, shouting at Masked Man to come over and make the tag. It’s all for naught, however, as Sean reaches Masked Fury and adds insult to injury, stomping on his face! The Revolution member forcefully brings TMM to his feet and traps him in a front facelock, before pulling on the waist of his pants and lifting him upside down into the air. As Davis holds this position, Marcus Washington moves over to Cortez and yanks on his leg, pulling him off the apron and onto the floor!

 

“That was uncalled for!” Comet shouts.

 

“This is gonna be good,” Riley cackles, “Davis is setting Mask up for something big, and no one will be able to help him!”

 

Davis then snaps around, slamming TMM down and bringing all of his 270 pounds with him, executing a jackhammer suplex!

 

“Bobbo, we haven’t seen that since Charlie Matthews used it in the Spring!”

 

“And it’s by someone just as strong, if not stronger! We have new tag champions!”

 

Davis covers Mask, and Mark Hebner counts the academic pin!

 

 

”ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

…NO! Hebner waves it off – Mask draped his right boot over the bottom rope! Davis is enraged, Spike is enraged, and outside of the ring, Todd Cortez is enraged at Marcus Washington! The PA begs off, but Todd ignores him, climbing back up into his corner to instead anticipate the tag from TMM. Spike, despite taking much more of a beating than Davis, DEMANDS to be tagged in immediately! Sean reluctantly obliges, walking over and tagging in his partner. Jenkins energetically enters the ring, and the team decides to tag advantage of Hebner’s five count, much like 42nd Street did earlier. Sean brings the Sexual Maskosaurus up, and both men tag a hold of one of his arms, whipping him into the ropes. As Mask rebounds, they charge forward for a double shoulder block, but TMM drops down, shooting his legs out with a baseball slide right between the Perfect Storm’s legs. However, instead of sliding all the way, he stops, with enough room to lift his head up and slam his masked face into Davis’ testicles!

 

*CHING!*

 

“DISQUALIFICATION!” Riley whines, “That was an OBVIOUS low blow!”

 

As Davis slumps down against the corner, Hebner comes over and scolds Masked Man, but as the US Champion gets up, he pleads innocence, pantomiming the fact that he was just getting up, and Davis’ crotch was in the way! Hebner actually believes this and walks away, just as Spike Jenkins hops forward, shooting his leg out for a superkick…

 

…but Mask ducks, and Davis takes the kick right in the jaw! As Hollywood stands wide-eyed in shock, Masked Fury sends him backwards with a back fist to the face! TMM then turns back to Davis, who is literally on the ropes, before swinging his arm and catching him under the throat, sending the stunned giant over the top rope and to the outside of the ring!

 

“If there was any time to try and end the match,” Comet notes, “This would be it! The replacement champs have Spike all to themselves, and they should do whatever they can to win!”

 

“Despite the fact that they should’ve lost about five times already,” Riley groans.

 

“You’ll never let that go, will you, Bobbo? What if Tom Flesher does it later?”

 

“Stop asking questions.”

 

The Sexual Maskosaurus is ON FIRE, turning back to Spike and grabbing him by the head, slamming his face into the turnbuckle, and then ducking under his arm in a backdrop suplex position, lifting him up…and placing him down gingerly on the top turnbuckle with his back to the ring. Mask then slowly walks over…and tags in Todd Cortez! The Urban Legend goes right for Spike, putting his head under his crotch (eww…) and lifting him off the turnbuckle in an electric chair position! Marcus Washington again LEAPS onto the apron to argue this supposed cheating, but Mask runs over and decks him with a forearm to the face, sending him down to the floor as the Buffalo crowd lets out a massive cheer! Meanwhile, Cortez pushes Spike forward and begins sitting out for an electric chair drop…just as Mask runs forward, catching the falling Cruiserweight Champ in a ¾ facelock and falling down with them, NAILING Spike with a vicious double team combo!

 

“That’s the Party Crasher!” Comet exclaims, “42nd Street know how to get down, and they just showed Spike!”

 

“Jet! Marcus! Sean! Where the hell are you guys?!” Riley cries, as Cortez pins Spike down and Hebner counts the pin, with the entire Buffalo crowd counting along!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

 

The crowd explodes!

 

“HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS,” Funyon bellows, “AND OFFICIAL TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, the team of TODD CORTEZ and THE MASKED MAN, FOOOOOOOOORTY SSSSSSSSECOND STREEEEEEEET!”

 

Hebner hands the men their tag titles, and, exhausted, the victorious team exits the ring to the sound of their music, before any members of Revolution Zero can strike.

 

“The fans are in love with this team,” Comet notes, “and so am I! 42nd Street has just proved itself tonight!”

 

“This is blasphemous,” Riley replies, “and the only way it’ll get better is seeing Tom Flesher out here. Make it quick!”

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The HSBC Arena comes to life as SWF Storm returns from commercials! After a solid hour and a half of action the crowd is literally pumped to kick off the first of the last two remaining matches, and they show it. Standing to their feet and screaming for more excitement while waving signs in support of their favorite stars!

 

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, Citizens,” greets Comet. “It is now time for our next event, the No Gravity, SWF Intercontinental-Television Title match!”

 

“And what a great stipulation for Landon Maddix to have picked,” says Bobby. “Finally, he will get the chance that he was robbed of so very long ago!”

 

“What in the world are you blathering abou-”

 

“Please, Comet, don’t try and defend the situation with your usual run of the mill excuses!” snaps Riley, cutting the masked announcer completely off. “It’s no secret that Johnny Dangerous went out of his way to deny Landon a shot at the Cruiserweight Championship when he was Champion. Johnny knew that he would have been outclassed, outsmarted, and out of a title!”

 

“Not this again,” groans Comet. “It’s bad enough that we have to hear Citizen Maddix spouting off all these untruths. Johnny never denied Landon a shot at the Cruiserweight Championship! In fact, if I recall correctly, Agent Dangerous made an open challenge to any who wished to face him.”

 

“You can claim all you want, but we know the truth! Tonight, however, Landon will prove that not only is he the best man for Intercontinental-Television Champion, but he is a better cruiser as well.”

 

“We’ll just have to see about that,” replies Comet, clearly growing agitated. “I think it’s time we let these competitors speak for themselves. Let’s turn this one over to our ring announcer, Funyon!”

 

Funyon slides into the ring and steps to the middle of the squared circle. A single spotlight shines down on him as he raises his microphone to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “the following match will be for the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPIOOOOONSHIP… AND IT WILL BE A NO GRAVITY MATCH!!”

 

Cheers explode from the crowd, forcing the Announcer to pause his introductions. “The winner of this match will be the first man to successfully utilize a total of five top rope, or turnbuckle moves on their opponent! Introducing first, the Challenger…” he says, as the house lights drop, and a voice picks up on the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice…

 

“JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!”

 

The Buffalo fans let off a tremendous pop, but their cheers are barely heard as “After the Flesh” thunders out from the speakers! The stage is quickly immersed in a thick white smoke that billows out from the sides, serving to momentarily conceal the Secret Agent. That is until strobes light up from all corners, partially illuminating Johnny Dangerous as he struts through the smoke and finally appears at the top of the ramp! His trench coat flows carelessly behind him, and he looks out at the crowd through his high-tech shades then finally thrusts his arms into the air.

 

“From Las Vegas, Nevada,” bellows Funyon, “and weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds… JOOOHNNY ‘THE BAAARRAAACUDAAAAAAAA’ DAAANGEROUUUS!!!”

 

“The Barracuda looks pretty confident tonight,” notes Comet, as Johnny jogs down to the ring with his arm raised out to the crowd, “and he certainly has every right to be. He had a fairly successful reign as United States Champion, Tag Team Champion, and even more so as the Cruiserweight Champion. Now he’ll be looking to take out Landon Maddix tonight and start a new championship reign.”

 

“Yeah, well sorry to say, Comet, but that just ain’t going to happen!” snaps Bobby. “Landon picked this stipulation for a reason. He has a plan of attack and he knows exactly what he’s going to do to bring the Barracuda down to his knees!”

 

“The obvious fact that your forgetting, Robert,” says Comet, “is that Johnny successfully defended the Cruiserweight Championship in a No Gravity Match. He’s no stranger to this stipulation, and certainly competent enough in it.”

 

Johnny gets into the ring and strips his coat and shades off. He tosses them to the side then slinks back into a corner with his eyes totally focused on the curtains. “After the Flesh” fades away, the lights drop out, and the opening guitar riff to Incubus’ “Megalomaniac” blast through the speakers! Boos ring out almost immediately as the fans anticipate the entrance of Landon Maddix, only to be thrusts back into their seats when a booming voice picks up…

 

PREPARE...FOR...LANDON!"

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

The song kicks into gear and Landon Maddix struts out from behind the curtains. He strolls to the top of the ramp then stops and cockily motions to the ICTV title strapped around his waist.

Close behind him is Megan Skye, wearing a shimmering, sparkling and most importantly bank balance crippling top, drawing all attention towards her. Until that is Natasha emerges after her, wearing an equally provocative black suit. And just too complete the line-up, Chris Card steps out and wraps his arms around Natasha with a smug smile… as well he should.

 

“I should have known,” mutters Comet. “Landon is coming out here with the entire troupe tonight. I can already tell you where this one is headed!”

 

“I told you he had a plan, Comet, didn’t I?”

 

“If it was a plan to cheat and engage in some under handed tactics you might be right, Robert.”

 

“And his opponent,” continues Funyon, “from Huron, South Dakota, and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, he is the reigning SWF INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPIOOOON… LANDOOOON ‘LA CUCARAAACHAAAAAAAA’ MADDIIIIX!!!”

 

Standing on the outside apron of the ring, Landon turns toward the crowd and raises his arms out as his name is announced. The notion only garners more boos, which is only expected, and Maddix simply shrugs them off with a wave of his hand. He steps into the ring and hands off the title belt to the official for this match, Anthony Kivell, before locking eyes with his opponent.

 

“If you’ll notice on our Smarktron,” says Comet, “there is a scoreboard displayed. Every time one of our superstars hits a top rope or turnbuckle move they’ll be awarded a point. The first to five wins this match…and the ICTV Championship.”

 

On the outside of the ring, Landon’s crew takes their places. Chris Card watching carefully, ready to spring into action the second Johnny tries to cheat his way to victory, and the two girls shouting their encouragements for Maddix. Johnny sneers at the entire group then turns back towards his opponent…

 

WHAM!

 

… and Landon blast Johnny right in the eye, catching the secret agent by total surprise! Dangerous stumbles back with his hand to his eye as Kivell quickly calls for the bell.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“And there’s the bell,” says Comet, “but Citizen Maddix has already managed to sneak in some dirty work before it rang!”

 

“Hey, it’s not Landon’s fault if Johnny can’t pay attention!” snaps Riley. “Landon is his opponent, not the people at ringside! Johnny would be well advised to keep his focus on the matter at hand, or he’ll find himself starring up at the lights in a hurry!”

 

Landon rushes forward and pulls Johnny’s hand from his face then cranks his forearm into the side of Dangerous’ jaw! Johnny is knocked to the side, but then angrily swings his hand out and cranks it into Maddix’s forehead! The blow stuns Maddix for just a second, but a second is all the Barracuda could ask for. He quickly lunges forward, pulling the ICTV Champion into a collar-and-elbow tie up. The pair jockeys for position, but Johnny, being slightly stronger, manages to come out in control! He snaps on a side headlock, but Landon slips out before Johnny can tighten down! Landon grabs the Secret Agent by the arm and tries to force it behind Dangerous in a hammerlock! Now it’s Johnny’s turn to try and reverse the roles. He spins out before Maddix can get the move fully locked in then turns to face his opponent, and gets a foot into his gut… almost! Before it connects the Barracuda grabs onto it…then flattens the Champion to the canvas with a short-armed clothesline!

 

WHAM!

 

Johnny keeps his hold on Maddix’s foot then grapevines his legs around Landon’s and falls on his back, quickly applying an ankle lock! Landon screams in sheer horror as the Barracuda cranks away on his ankle, frantically kicking his leg in hopes of working it free. Finally, after a little effort he slips away from Johnny’s grasp just enough to lean back and grab onto the ropes and pull himself free. Landon lets out a sigh of relief, “-and a close call there for Citizen Maddix,” remarks Comet. “He knows he doesn’t want to get caught up in any of the Barracuda’s deadly submissions.”

 

“What do you mean by close call!?” ask Riley, rather venomously. “Johnny barely got his crappy little ankle lock slapped on before Landon broke free! A little twisting of the ankle wouldn’t stop him anyway, not so long as he has another leg to use. This is a No Gravity Match, not a submission match to begin with!”

 

“Indeed, but a hurt foot might slow down his ascent of the turnbuckles.”

 

“Oh, shut up, Comet!”

 

Johnny pops back to his feet and comes in from behind Landon, reaching around his waist. He locks his fingers together, ready to take the ICTV Champion along for a ride, but Maddix fires an elbow back!

 

CRACK!

 

The shot blast the Barracuda right in the temple and he goes staggering back, releasing Landon in the process. Maddix spins around and grabs Johnny by the wrist then steps forward, whipping the Secret Agent diagonally to the corner. He waits for Johnny to get halfway across the ring then quickly chases after him. Dangerous nears the post, but before he slams into the unforgiving steel he leaps into the air and lands on the top of the turnbuckle!

 

“And an amazing display of agility by the Barracuda,” says Comet, as Johnny easily keeps his balance on the turnbuckle then jumps off. Johnny spins in midair, turning his body to face Landon as the Champion comes to a screeching halt right before him…

 

WHAM!

 

…and Johnny crashes into “La Cucaracha” with a body splash, flattening the champion against the canvas! Dangerous rolls up to his feet then glances towards Kivell for his point to be awarded. The ref complies, and the scoreboard quickly reads:

 

“LANDON: 0 – JOHNNY: 1”

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“And Agent Dangerous is awarded the first point of this match,” notes Comet. “You can see that it really isn’t all that hard to hit one of these moves in a No Gravity match, especially for two cruiserweights.”

 

Johnny rolls back to his feet as does Landon. The move floored the Champion and left him a little shaken, but not much more than that. He charges towards Johnny, looking to land a lariat, but the Barracuda quickly darts out of the way! He grabs the Champion by the back of the head as he passes through and heaves him right over the top rope!! Landon frantically reaches for the rope and grabs on, safely stopping himself from going to the floor and landing on the outside apron. “La Cucaracha” vaults up to the top rope then springs off! Johnny, who’d turned his attention back towards the crowd, swings around in surprise, just in time for Landon to smash him squarely in the chest with both feet—a dropkick from the top rope!

 

WHAM!

 

“OOOOOOH!!”

 

He hits so hard that he drives his opponent straight to the canvas with a tremendous thud! Landon pops back up to his feet and snaps his attention to the scoreboard, delighted when it reads…

 

“LANDON: 1 – JOHNNY: 1”

 

“Landon’s evened up the score,” says Riley, giddily. “I knew he wouldn’t let us down!

 

Johnny rises back to his feet. He snarls angrily at his opponent as a hand holds dearly to his chest. Maddix simply beckons the Barracuda nearer, “-and Maddix is seemingly growing more and more confident by the minute,” Comet suggests. “He might want to keep a cap on it though if he wants to win this match.”

 

“Don’t worry about Maddix,” remarks Bobby. “He’s a seasoned Champion—he knows his stuff! Plus he is also here to prove a point! When this match is done and over with the entire legacy of Johnny Dangerous cruiserweight reign will be nothing more then a sham!”

 

Seemingly as if to prove Bobby Riley correct, Landon quickly heads to the nearest corner and climbs it. He crouches down and waits as the Barracuda starts getting to his feet. The crowd tries to warn, but Johnny doesn’t seem to pick up on the hint. He turns around…

 

WHAM!

 

…and Landon dives from the post then whacks the Barracuda with a lariat! Again Johnny is knocked flat on his back, but he can see the scoreboard and growls as he sees it change.

 

“LANDON: 2 – JOHNNY: 1”

 

“And in just seconds flat, Landon has taken the lead,” remarks Bobby. “Boy, Johnny is really getting smoked in that ring tonight!”

 

Johnny shoves off the mat with one hand while holding his chest with the other. Clearly, the drop kick from earlier hit a bit harder than originally expected, “-and the Barracuda is do no favor to himself by broadcasting that,” says Comet. “If he reveals a weak point to Outlaw Maddix it could cost him this match.”

 

“Not like he would have won anyway,” adds Bobby.

 

Landon charges across the ring, looking to keep the Barracuda grounded with another lariat! Seconds before he connects, Johnny ducks under the blow and reaches from behind to nail a quick neck breaker! He leaps over his fallen opponent and rushes to the near ropes then leaps to the top in a single bound and bounces off! He spins to face his opponent in midair then drops two fist—clasped together—into the Champion’s chest!

 

“LANDON: 2 – JOHNNY: 2”

 

“WHAT!?” shouts Bobby, simply appalled. “Kivell is going to award Johnny a point for a frigging fist drop!?”

 

“It was off the top rope,” reminds Comet. “It doesn’t say these moves need to be fancy, but rather off the top rope or turnbuckle.”

 

Johnny heads across the ring, picking up some steam and keeping his momentum going strong! He hits the ropes, but before the Barracuda can bounce back towards his opponent, a hand reaches into the ring and grabs his foot, nearly causing him to trip onto his face. The crowds unleash a boo and Johnny quickly regains his footing and angrily spins on his heel to face this perpetrator--Megan Skye. Surprise doesn’t even begin to describe her expression when the Secret Agent viciously snarls towards her then slides out of the ring. As expected she takes flight around the ring, and Johnny chases after her much to the delight of the crowd!

 

“He’s gone mad!” cries Bobby. “Johnny’s chasing that poor girl around the ring like a rabid dog!”

 

“That poor girl just interfered with this match,” says Comet. “If she isn’t afraid to stick her hand in the ring and grab his ankle then she should be tough enough to face the music!”

 

Landon, however, isn’t one bit pleased when he catches an eyeful of the chase! Johnny’s after his girl, and he isn’t about to let anything happen to her! Landon rushes out of the ring, but before he can even make way to the commotion, Chris Card steps in with a stiff lariat, flattening the Barracuda to the floor!

 

WHACK!

 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” cheers Riley. “Chris Card stepping up from his management role to play ringside enforcer.”

 

“Nobody asked him to play ‘ringside enforcer’,” fumes Comet. “How much interference does Landon’s gang intend to involve themselves in? Do they have no faith in their Champion’s abilities?”

 

“They have plenty of faith in Landon, but that wasn’t what was going on, now was it!? Johnny was trying to hurt Megan Skye, but not while Chris Card is at ringside—he’ll keep them straight!”

 

Landon storms around the side of the ring, jumps up… and drops his knee into Johnny’s chest! Dangerous howls in pain, clutching his chest and rolling from side to side. “You stay away from her!” shouts Landon, audible enough for the whole arena to hear. He then grabs Johnny by the head and pulls him to his feet, and with a little assistance from Card, rolls the Barracuda back into the ring. Landon hops to the outside apron then strolls to the nearest corner as the fans boo yet again. Right now it’s clear the ICTV Champion doesn’t even hear them, this one is going to be for trying to mess with Megan! He climbs the turnbuckle as Johnny lies in the ring; one hand to his chest and the other to his neck while lying on his back. He doesn’t even try to move when ‘La Cucaracha’ leaps from the post and extends his elbow way out Macho Man style, getting some serious hang time in…

 

WHAM!

 

Then drives the point of his elbow into Johnny’s sternum! The Barracuda convulses on the mat, and if not for the elbow drop knocking the wind out of his pipes, he’d be screaming like a banshee! Landon’s attention goes straight to the scoreboard, and a sly smile graces his lips as it changes.

 

“LANDON: 3 – JOHNNY: 2”

 

“And we have a tie breaker,” notes Comet. “It’s still anyone’s game from this point, but the deeds of Landon’s sinister posse have clearly put the Barracuda in a bad way. I wouldn’t be surprised if Outlaw Maddix racks up two more points in a hurry.”

 

“Hey, it was bound to happen anyway,” replies Bobby. “This match was destined to happen no matter how much Johnny tried to deny it from Landon, and the outcome is inevitable—Johnny looses.”

 

Not even wasting a single second, the ICTV Champion quickly moves back to the turnbuckles. he glances back at his opponent, pleased to see the Barracuda writhing on the mat in sheer agony then finally opts to climb up. Booing persists, and it seemingly grows uglier by the minute, but Landon is on a roll! He makes his way to the top and pumps his fist out to the crowd with a tremendous battle cry to go along with it!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

 

“Citizen Maddix looking for some accolades from the crowd and getting none of it,” remarks Comet. “I don’t think they have ever been on his side and surely not tonight!”

 

“If they knew anything they’d be cheering their hearts out for Landon Maddix,” spits Riley. “He is anything but sucking! He’s the future of this company—Main Event Landon, and he’s about to show everyone that he’s a much better cruiser than Johnny could ever hope to be.”

 

Landon leaps from the post and again, the elbow is extended way out for another Macho Drop with that serious hang time going once more!

 

WHAM!

 

“FROM DOOOOOOOOWNTOWN~!” exclaims Bobby, as Maddix’s elbow is driven straight into the Barracuda’s sternum. Johnny flops around like a fish out of water and this time he manages to sound off with a tearful cry of agony!

 

“That’s just insult to injury,” gripes Comet. “He used the same move twice!”

 

“Nothing in the rule book against that,” snickers Riley, knowing for once that he’s right as does Comet. Again the scoreboard changes…

 

“LANDON: 4 – JOHNNY: 2”

 

“One more point and Landon wins,” says Bobby. “He’s proving himself to be a worthy ICTV Champion indeed!”

 

Landon pumps his fist as he sees the score change then turns back towards Johnny. The Barracuda is desperately trying to get to his feet, knowing that he can’t stay on the mat. And like a true gentlemen, Landon helps Johnny up to his feet… then pops him right in the jaw! Dangerous staggers backwards and falls into the ropes, which inadvertently propels him forward… and right into the waiting hands of Maddix!

 

WHAM!

 

A second punch knocks the Barracuda to the mat. Landon takes a step back to revel in his beating of the Secret Agent and raises his arms up in victory. As expected, the fans cut loose with a scorching jeer and a chant rises up!

 

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

 

Landon pulls Johnny to his feet with an arm wrench then steps forward, whipping him to the corner! Johnny smacks into the turnbuckles back-first, cringing as his spine is crunched by the steel post. He barely looks up in time as Maddix barrels across the ring, “-and here comes Citizen Maddix, looking for an Avalanche!” shouts Comet.

 

NO! Johnny swings his leg up, and smacks the heel of his foot into Landon’s forehead! The fans rise up with a solid cheer as Maddix staggers back across the ring, and Johnny rockets out of the corner, making a beeline straight for his foe! Landon, though somewhat stunned, sees him coming and wildly swings a backhand for the Barracuda… but Johnny ducks under the arm then spins behind his opponent. He reaches down to shoot the leg and lifts Landon onto his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry takeover, “-and here comes the MI Slam!” exclaims Comet, but as Johnny begins to pivot, Maddix shoves off while hooking the Barracuda’s arm, and flipping JOHNNY to the mat with an arm drag!

 

“By Zeus!” shouts Comet, as Johnny goes tumbling, end over end to the side of the ring. “Citizen Maddix is displaying some excellent improvisational skill here--escaping an MI Slam and turning it against the Barracuda!”

 

“About time you realized the skills of the Landon Maddix,” mutters Riley. “Maybe now you’ll realize that he IS the future of our company!”

 

Johnny pops back up to his feet, and just narrowly ducks down in time to avoid Landon trying to grab onto him. He tries to go behind, but the Champion spins to face him and unloads with a punch to an “OOOOOOOOH!” from the fans! Johnny stumbles back and Landon closes in, determined to keep the Barracuda at bay! He reaches for a lock up, but the Secret Agent fakes a punch with his left then smashes his right into the side of “La Cucaracha’s” head!

 

WHAM!

 

The Champion is stunned just long enough for Johnny to pull his hand back again, and jam his palm straight into Landon’s face, right between the eyes, with a Shotei Palmstrike that sends Maddix rocking on his heels!

 

THWACK!

 

Landon staggers a step back, and Johnny rushes towards the adjacent ropes. Despite the bitter pain in his chest, Johnny leaps up to the top rope and uses it to launch himself back towards his opponent…

 

WHAAM!!

 

… and Dangerous catches the back of Landon’s head and drives him face first into the mat with a top rope assisted bulldog!

 

“What a move by the Barracuda!” shouts Comet. “He’s making a desperate fight on the comeback trail!”

 

“LANDON: 4 – JOHNNY: 3”

 

Johnny slowly moves towards Landon and begins pulling the Champion to his feet. Behind him, Megan Skye moves into the ring armed with a chair, and the crowd immediately sounds off with a boo! He quickly spins around, shocking Megan and snares the chair from her hands. Scared now that she’s been had, Megan once more tries to innocently back her way out of the ring. Landon gets up to his knees and quickly reacts to the situation, reaching through Dangerous’ legs from behind and jamming his fist into the Barracuda’s groin!

 

“OOOOOOH!!”

 

“Low blow by Maddix,” says Comet, as Johnny drops the chair and goes to the mat. “Can these people not engage themselves in a fair match?”

 

“Maybe if Johnny didn’t try to chase after Megan Skye constantly, Landon wouldn’t have to resort to such tactics,” suggests Riley.

 

With Johnny crumpled on the mat in a fetal position, Landon gets back to his feet and slowly moves to the corner. He begins to climb the turnbuckle one step at a time, “-and Maddix is going back up,” says Bobby, though the worried tone in his voice is evident. “This looks like quite the risky gamble.” Johnny is already up on his hands and knees, and if the Barracuda can pull himself together quick enough the ICTV Champion could be sitting in a bad way. Nonetheless, one point is all Landon needs and he knows it. All he has to do is hit Johnny with a top rope move, whether Johnny is lying down, standing up, or grinning at the crowd like an idiot! Landon makes it to the top, his back facing the ring, and unfortunately for him, Johnny is up on his feet and closing in fast. Maddix rises to a vertical base when the Secret Agent swings his fist into the side of the Champion’s waist!

 

“No!” shrieks Bobby, terrified as he watches Landon buckle to the kidney shot. Johnny climbs up behind his opponent then wraps his hands around Maddix’s waist. “This isn’t looking good at all--Johnny has Landon in perfect position for a suplex!”

 

With that, Johnny shoves off the top and hauls Landon off with him! The plunge backwards to the canvas…

 

 

WHAAAAAAM!!!

 

 

… AND JOHNNY DRIVES LANDON INTO THE MAT WITH A SICKENING GERMAN SUPLEX, FOLDING HIM UP LIKE AN ACCORDIAN!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“LANDON: 4 – JOHNNY: 4”

 

“What a hit by the Barracuda!” exclaims Comet. “The score is now evened up to four a piece for these superstars. One more hit by either camp and this match will be over!”

 

Landon lies nearly motionless on the canvas, and Johnny stands back up. His breaths are heavy, and it is clear that exhaustion is quickly setting in. Nonetheless, all he needs is to hit one final move and this match is his. He slowly moves toward the corner then climbs to the top of the turnbuckle as the crowd anxiously watches, cheering louder than they have all night!

 

“JOOOHN-NY!”

“JOOOHN-NY!”

 

The chants ring out, and Johnny leaps from the top! He makes a frog-like motion in midair before dropping down…

 

WHAAAAAAAAAM!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

… and slamming directly into Landon! The Champion convulses on the mat as he wails in pain, and Johnny darts his eyes to the scoreboard, anxiously awaiting the final score to go up!

 

“He’s done it!” exclaims Comet. “I can’t believe it! In spite of everything Landon Maddix and Chris Card Enterprises threw his way he was able to overcome!”

 

“What’s he overcome?” ask Riley, with a glint in his eye.

 

Still watching the scoreboard, Johnny waits… waits… and waits some more, “-but that scandalous zealot of Citizen Maddix is distracting the referee!” roars Comet, as Megan Skye struggles with Kivell on the outside apron, trying to worm her way into the ring. Kivell will have none of it though; fending her off with everything he’s got!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“This is outrageous!” shouts the masked crusader, simply beside himself. “Kivell didn’t even see that last move by Johnny thanks to Megan Skye’s little distraction! Pay attention to the match, ref!”

 

“I wish you’d make up your mind!” snaps Bobby. “First you want Kivell to keep her out of the ring, and now you want him to just turn away and award a point that he didn’t even see?! You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Comet!”

 

Johnny finally rises up agitated as he catches an eyeful of the disturbance going on. He clenches down on his fist, simply livid by another round of interference from Maddix’s troupe, and marches forward… AND RIGHT INTO A BOOT FROM CHRIS CARD!

 

“OOOOH!”

 

Johnny doubles over into a side headlock from the surprise attack, and Card quickly drops back, DRILLING the top of the Barracuda’s skull into the canvas with a tremendous DDT!

 

WHAM!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

Johnny’s head bounces off the mat like a well-aired basketball, vaulting his body back into the air… and crashing back down a second time! A horrendous jeer cuts loose, but Card doesn’t pay them the time of day. He scrambles over towards Maddix and ferociously shakes him, trying to get his client moving again. Finally, Card pulls Maddix up to his feet and rest him against the corner post. Kivell orders him out of the ring and he obliges, but not without a hiss towards the referee first!

 

“Now THAT’S what a manager should be like,” says Riley. “Always there for the client when you need him--Landon should give this man a raise!”

 

In the ring, Johnny lies flat on his back, fading in and out of consciousness. Landon on the other hand, though hurting, is able to get himself moving again. His chest is throbbing painfully, and he could almost swear his opponent slammed a ton of bricks into him. Finally, with some precious encouragement from Megan, he shoves off and begins climbing the turnbuckle.

 

“Johnny may not have won this match with that last move, but it certainly seems to have slowed Citizen Maddix down,” Comet notes. “Unfortunately, Landon is the one who is up and moving, and all he needs is one last move to retain his title and win this match.”

 

“A move he’ll definitely get,” adds Bobby, quite sure of the fact. “He’s making his way up now, and there is nothing Johnny can do to stop it!”

 

Landon gets to the top of the post then stands fully upright with his arms stretched out to the sides. The fans boo mercilessly, “-but Landon Maddix could care less!” shouts Bobby, sneering at the obviously ignorant fans. “All that matters is that he hits this final move, wins this match, retains this title, and proves without a shadow of a doubt that he is in fact the better cruiserweight!”

 

With that, Landon leaps from the turnbuckle and soars towards Johnny while quickly coming down like a meteor! He closes his eyes as Johnny’s face comes closer, and closer to his…

 

 

…and Johnny looks up to find his opponent coming down on him…

 

 

WHAAAAAAAAAM!!!

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Johnny rolls out of the way with only a nanosecond to spare and the Champion’s skull smashes into the canvas! The crowd ignites with a thunderous cheer, and Card angrily stomps his foot into the floor!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“Son of a bitch!” roars Bobby. “Landon missed the Swandive Headbutt of all moves! Well, he didn’t really miss… that French bastard, Johnny Dangerous, moved out of the way! How could he do that to Landon!”

 

“You think he is just going to lay there and LET someone headbutt him!?” shouts Comet, almost at his wits end by Bobby’s remark. “That… That’s just ludicrous!”

 

“What? Are we Mike Tyson now, Comet? In a second you’ll be nibbling on my body parts.”

 

“Only in your dreams, Citizen Robert! I’d take another Crisis on Infinity Earth’s before that happened.”

 

Johnny climbs back to his feet, but the second he’s up he catches an eyeful of Chris Card trying to once more invade the ring! Before Card gets to him though, Johnny remembers the chair lying in the ring and dashes for it! He snatches it off the mat…

 

WHOOOOOOSH!!

 

…THEN WHIRLS AROUND WITH THE CHAIR AND CREAMS CHRIS CARD DIRECTLY IN THE FACE WITH A LOUD CRACK~!! CARD IS SENT FLYING BACKWARDS AND TUMBLES OVER THE TOP ROPE, LANDING HARD INTO THE THINLY PADDED CONCRETE FLOOR!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!”

 

“Finally!” shouts Comet. “The right hand of JUSTICE~ has been served to Chris Card for all his meddling!”

 

“Meddeling!?” repeats Bobby. “He was just coming in to make sure his client was okay, and what does he get? A chair to the face! Johnny should be expelled from the fed for that!”

 

Landon charges towards Johnny with a ferocious roar, angered by the attack on his manager, but the Barracuda quickly spins around and sticks Maddix in the gut with the edge of the chair! The Champion doubles over clenching his gut, and Johnny spins around with the chair, smacking it across the back of Maddix’s kneecaps! Landon is floored after having his feet swept out from under him, and all he can do is watch is horror as Johnny brings the chair overhead…

 

CRACK~!

 

…AND SLAMS THE CHAIR ACROSS LANDON’S SKULL, SCATTERING HIS BRAINS ACROSS THE RING!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!”

 

“That cheating bastard!” roars Bobby, pounding his fist into the announce table. “It’s bad enough that he assaulted Chris Card, but now he’s gone and raped Landon Maddix with that chair! Some hero--he has to use a weapon to win!”

 

“Let me remind you that it was Megan Skye who brought the chair in here to begin with!” retorts Comet. “Not to even mention the numerous occasions Landon’s posse has tried to interfere with this match!”

 

Seeing no more use for the chair, Johnny slings it to the mat. Landon’s lights are seemingly knocked out, and the two girls are occupied with Chris Card. The opportunity to strike gold is abundantly apparent, and the Barracuda knows it. He steps out onto the apron and carefully makes his way to the turnbuckle before climbing up.

 

“SHOOTING JOHNNY PRESS!” exclaims Comet, excitedly watching as the Barracuda crouches down on the top of the turnbuckle. “He’s risking it all right here! If the Barracuda hits this move he will have won this match, but if he misses and comes down on his chest he could be a goner!”

 

“Let’s hope he misses than!”

 

Then with everything the Barracuda has left in the tank, he vaults into the air, back-flipping forward! Hundreds of flashbulbs explode from the crowd as they move to the edge of their seats, and followed by a thunderous cheer as the Barracuda unfolds over Maddix…

 

 

WHAAAAAAAAAM!!!

 

 

… AND SLAMS INTO LANDON WITH A SHOOTING STAR PRESS, FLATTENING HIM AGAINST THE CANVAS!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!”

 

Johnny hits and pops off his opponent then cradles his chest in his hands. His eyes move towards Kivell, hoping that this time the ref saw it. Sure enough, Kivell motions towards the timekeeper and the scoreboard changes one last time.

 

“LANDON: 4 – JOHNNY: 5”

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“He’s done it!” exclaims Comet, as the entire arena erupts and “After the Flesh” begins pumping from the speakers! “By Zeus, almighty, we have ourselves a new Champion! Johnny Dangerous has conquered the forces of evil and won this match!”

 

“The winner of this match,” bellows Funyon, “and NEEEEEEEEEEEW SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPIOOOOOOOOOON… JOHNNY ‘THE BAAARRAAAACUDAAAA’ DAAAAAAANGEROUUUS!!!”

 

Kivell hands off the ICTV gold to Johnny then grabs his near arm and raises it high into the air! The Barracuda manages to push aside his overbearing pain just long enough to let a smile cross his lips… then crumbles to the mat.

 

“I can’t believe this has happened,” moans Riley. “Johnny robbed Landon Maddix of not only the ICTV Championship, but some cruiserweight bragging rights as well!”

 

“What bragging rights did he have to claim anyway?” ask Comet. “I’m just glad that Landon won’t have anything else to say after this. He got his cruiserweight match with Johnny, he got to name the stipulation for the match, but he lost the title.”

 

“Just rub it in why don’t you,” snarls Bobby. “At least the next match won’t disappoint.”

 

“Maybe not for you, but stay tuned anyway Citizens! Next up, our main event! Tom Flesher versus Toxxic with Janus serving as special guest referee!” says Comet with a forced grin…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT.

Edited by Thoth

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The cameras return to Storm with the chorus of Fear Factory’s ‘Resurrection’ blasting out over the PA system and the fans shitting all over the arrival of the World Heavyweight Champion. However, Janus takes no notice of his hostile reception beyond a slight curl of his lip at the weak, pathetic fools who shout at him from all sides, and advances down the entrance ramp towards the commentary desk where Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley are sitting.

 

“Citizens, we are about to be joined by a true monster,” Comet observes. “The man who attempted to seriously injure Alan Clark on Smarkdown when he used a move perhaps best left forgotten.”

 

Bobby Riley starts to say something... but stops, as the huge Australian takes a seat beside him and puts on a pair of headphones.

 

“Janus,” Comet says, addressing the World Champion directly, “what right did you have to use the Demonstar Driver on Alan Clark? How could you-”

 

“Right?” Janus asks curiously. “I wanted to, and I could. If you feel my actions were wrong, Comet, you have only to say so.”

 

“I would,” Comet answers defiantly, “but the SWF relies on me to do my job tonight, and I could not do it if I was engaged in combat with you!”

 

“He can hardly do it anyway!” Riley protests, trying to defuse the tension. Janus stares at Comet for a few seconds longer, then leans back on his chair (which makes an ominous creaking noise). However, everyone’s attention is distracted as the Smarktron blacks out, and while the crunching guitars of Lostprophets’ ‘We Still Kill The Old Way’ ring out over the HSBC Arena jagged white letters flash up:

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG...’

 

The shot changes, showing 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! Clips from different matches start to flash up and as the smoke begins to drift the shape of the man himself becomes visible. Toxxic strides forward with Jet at his side and pauses at the bottom of the ramp to snap his head from side-to-side while his girlfriend talks steadily to him.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the next match is tonight’s MAIN EVENT~ and is scheduled for one fall!” Funyon booms. “Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Jet; from Nottingham, England; weighing in at 218lbs, he is the leader of Revolution Zero... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXX-IIIC!!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

The fans in attendance are not fond of the British rookie but Toxxic just grins as he rolls under the ropes into the ring, ascends the nearest turnbuckle and spreads his arms wide. Tonight he gets the chance to prove a little something to Tom Flesher... and maybe to the watching Hell Machine as well.

 

“Janus - care to give us your thoughts on Toxxic, one of your two contenders?” Comet asks in a brittle but civil voice. The Hell Machine leans forward slightly in response and raises one hand to stroke his goatee.

 

“I’m thinking that although I have beaten that man twice, I’ve never pinned him or made him submit,” the big Australian rumbles. “I think I should rectify that error soon.”

 

“And how does the fact that he beat Nathaniel Kibagami come into play?” Comet asks, chancing his arm. “Given that Silent’s repeated beatings of you-”

 

“Enough,’ the Hell Machine growls through gritted teeth, the unspoken threat bringing even the heroic commentator up short. “Toxxic has learned from his encounters with the Silent One, that is obvious,” Janus continues in a forced, clipped voice, “but he will not have learned how to defeat me.”

 

*BOOOOOM!*

 

Before Comet can goad the big man into physical violence 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 a pair of low blue lowriders and a blue crop-top. She escorts him through the smoke and they walk forward together, fireworks going off in the background. Tonight, however, something is different. There are some boos, to be sure, but as they enter the ring there is also an audible chant...

 

“TAAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

“TAAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

“TAAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

Flesher grins and he and Allison strike a pose, The Superior One 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 a card from his front pocket. “...not only one of the most talented technical wrestlers in the SWF, but also the world. He has amassed an astounding record of 79 wins, 29 losses and 2 draws. He has held the SWF World Championship twice, and will soon do so again. He is also one of only two men to have managed two wins over Toxxic... and tonight, he will become the ONLY man to beat him three times. Weighing in at a perfectly-formed 230 pounds, he stands before you as the NEXT SWF World Heavyweight Champion… the SUPERIOR ONE, TOM FLESHER!!!!!!”

 

“We’ll see about that...” Janus is heard to mutter. “And while I’m at it, I’ll show him how you really do an ADF II.”

 

“On Toxxic, I hope?” Riley asks, a note of pleading in his voice.

 

“I’m thinking a two-for-one deal...” the Hell Machine rumbles menacingly.

 

Flesher applauds Funyon’s announcement, ignorant of Janus’ bloodthirsty plans, while Toxxic stares contemptuously and even Anthony Michael Hall looks dubious. Allison strips Tom’s warm-up suit off his body and exits the ring while the Superior One stretches out before the bell, smiling around at his hometown fans.

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

No sooner has the start of the match been signalled than Toxxic sprints across the few feet separating him from Flesher and lashes out with his right arm, dropping the Superior One with a clothesline! Flesher pops back up immediately, visibly angry at being caught off-guard, but before he can set himself the Straight-Edge Sensation has reversed directions and is flying through the air once more, this time taking his opponent down with a spinning heel kick! Flesher takes half a second longer to regroup after that and his mat instincts automatically cause him to roll over onto his front to prevent the pinning situation - unfortunately that places his head in the perfect position for a-

 

*WHAM!!*

 

-basement dropkick, as both of Toxxic’s feet crash into his skull! Flesher rolls backwards and sideways, coming up into a protective stance and glaring out at the straight-edger… who stands grinning in the middle of the ring and has the nerve to spread his arms innocently.

 

“What?”

 

If looks could maim then Toxxic would be spending the rest of his life owing money to plastic surgeons, but as it is Flesher’s furious stare has no effect on the cocky Brit. Meanwhile the fans in Buffalo start to let their feelings known again…

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Toxxic manages to get the upper hand at the start through sheer speed,” Comet exclaims in surprise, “but I can tell you now that Citizen Flesher won’t be caught with his pants down again!”

 

“I’d like to catch- ”

 

“Robert Riley, if you don’t stop that sentence THIS MINUTE I will give you SUCH a smack!!”

 

Flesher’s eyes narrow, anger and embarrassment at being surprised by the rookie colouring his cheeks. He cares nothing for the fans of course, but it is still pleasant when they acknowledge his superiority. On this occasion however it meant he was not fully prepared when the bell rang - a mistake that he will not make a second time. He sets himself deliberately, waiting for his opponent to make the next move... and Toxxic casually raises one black-nailed hand and, with an expression of boredom on his face, waves Flesher in with a ‘come on’ motion!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Toxxic is playing a truly dangerous game,” Comet declares. “He is trying to maintain the psychological advantage, but if he allows Flesher in close then it could be all over very quickly!”

 

“What do you mean, ‘could be’?” Riley asks scathingly.

 

“He won’t LET him close,” Janus says with certainty. “Flesher may force his hand, however.”

 

The Superior One seems intent on doing just that as he advances towards the straight-edger who seems unaware that he’s being backed into a corner... then Toxxic comes up against the turnbuckle and looks around in apparent surprise, and Flesher makes his move. The two-time World Champion rushes in, drawing his right arm back for perhaps a running shotei - but at the last moment Toxxic jumps up to the second buckle, vaults over the top of the onrushing Flesher and stamps on the back of the head on the way past, dropping and rolling when he reaches the mat as the Superior One collides with the buckles!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“A ruse!” Comet exclaims as Flesher spins around, rubbing the back of his head and with murder in his eyes. “Toxxic suckered Flesher in and used his speed to outmanoeuvre his opponent again - if he can keep this up then he might be able to wear the Superior One down whilst avoiding Citizen Flesher’s deadly mat skills!”

 

“Wear him down?” Riley scoffs. “It’s going to be Toxxic doing the running about, not Flesher! Besides, Tom has amazing stamina, Comet. Amazing.”

 

“...I don’t want to know.”

 

Tom Flesher strides forward, looking to get in close with the rookie and dislocate a few joints, but the Straight-Edge Sensation is infuriatingly unwilling to comply. He backs away when Flesher advances and squirms sideways when the Superior One lunges for him, all the while wearing his lopsided grin and exhorting Tom to greater efforts.

 

“STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“STAND STILL!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

Toxxic’s grin widens as he listens to the Buffalo crowd’s protests. Right now he’s having the time of his life making Flesher look stupid in front of his hometown audience and is in no mood to oblige them - but Flesher’s patience, already rapidly thinning, snaps. When Toxxic dodges sideways again the Superior One anticipates his movement and-

 

*SMACK!*

 

-sends a jaw-rattling shotei into the straight-edger’s face! Toxxic staggers into the ropes as the Buffalo crowd finally has something to cheer about, and Flesher allows himself a small smile as he follows up. But lately Toxxic is used to being in the ring with feared strikers like Kibagami, Williams and Drazon so he welcomes the chance to start a brawl against someone near his own level, and Flesher walks straight into a-

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

Windup...

 

 

DISCUS CLOTHESLINE...

 

...ducked! Having used Toxxic’s signature combination on Ced in his last match the Superior One knows what’s coming and manages to get his head together enough to duck the final blow, then as Toxxic’s momentum carries him around again Flesher slaps on a rear waistlock!

 

“But you can’t ‘German’ Toxxic!” Comet calls warningly.

 

*WHAM!!*

 

“Oh. Apparently you can.”

 

“If you’re Tom Flesher, and if you’re smart enough to use a non-release version,” Riley adds smugly as Tom rolls away, not bothering to retain the bridge for the pin.

 

“I’d like to see him flip out of the Sydney Harbour Bridge...” is Janus’ menacing comment.

 

Toxxic is no mat genius like his opponent, but even he knows enough to roll over onto his front. This doesn’t help him against Flesher however, as the Superior One takes a second to clear his head from the straight-edger’s punches and his own recent exertion before dropping on the rising Toxxic to clamp on a front facelock. The startled Brit attempts to scoot backwards, but Flesher tightens his grip and anchors his spiky-haired opponent in place while Allison Onita does her best to rally the crowd behind her man.

 

“TAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

“TAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

“TAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

The Buffalo crowd responds, but how much of that is for Flesher and how much for Allison’s lowriders is open to debate. Meanwhile on the other side of the ring Jet looks over contemptuously at her counterpart’s actions, although not without partaking of a little light ogling herself... before remembering her job and banging on the apron to encourage her boyfriend.

 

“You see, Comet?” Riley asks, predictably ignoring the bevy of beauties on show at ringside. “Toxxic blew his load too soon and now Flesher’s back on top, where he always ends up!”

 

Even the detached, psychopathic Hell Machine shudders at that unbidden mental image.

 

“...Sweet Zombie Jesus...” Comet whimpers, digging his fingers into his mask as he tries to shut out horrors not witnessed since he accidentally clicked on a link to SUMA.

 

Toxxic is blissfully unaware of Riley’s “commentary”, but thirty seconds have passed with him still trapped in Flesher’s vicelike grip and the pressure in his temples is starting to build. His mat technique isn’t up to breaking the Superior One’s hold by traditional means, but although reluctant to cheat the rookie isn’t above digging his fingers into someone’s face if the situation calls for it. He reaches forward with his right arm, black nails seeking Flesher’s eyes... and Tom grabs his wrist and bends it up behind his back in a hammerlock! With this leverage available Flesher releases his facelock and swiftly slides his right arm underneath Toxxic’s left before flipping the Straight-Edge Sensation over onto his back into the By-The-Numbers pin.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

-but Toxxic flails his legs and manages to wrench his body off the mat, although his right arm is evidently pained at breaking the hammerlock in this way. Flesher attempts to retain his grip on the straight-edger’s left arm but Toxxic manages to whip it away, then simply swivels on his back and lashes out with both feet at the crouching Superior One’s head! Tom manages to block the attack slightly with his hands but it is still enough to knock him back and down, and Toxxic uses the respite to drag himself backwards and start to get to his feet. Unfortunately for the straight-edger the pounding in his temples is virtually unabated and he has to take a couple of seconds to clear his head, by which time Flesher is up and closing in again. Unable to go on the offensive directly Toxxic simply uses his speed to sidestep and drive a knee up into the Superior Stomach, and with the extra second’s grace that grants him he manages to recover enough to apply his own front facelock to the wheezing Buffalo native!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Toxxic grins as he tightens his grip - but really, he should have stuck to flip-flopping around the ring as Tom braces his legs wide and arches backwards, bringing the Straight-Edge Sensation over in a Northern Lights Suplex and causing Michael Hall to hit the canvas and count the fall!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

...but Toxxic manages to roll his shoulder off the mat again, although he can’t get away from the tenacious Superior One who jumps onto the retreating rookie’s back in a mount position and begins slamming shotei after shotei into the back of his head.

 

“You see?” Riley demands. “Tom has shown that he can do Toxxic’s moves, but if Toxxic’s tries to wrestle Flesher’s style he’s going down!”

 

“Citizen Riley, you know what your contract says about using the words ‘Flesher’ and ‘going down’ in the same sentence,” Com reprimands his partner.

 

Having battered the back of Toxxic’s skull Flesher decides to shift up a gear, so he reaches forward in order to try and hook in the Superior Stretch Beta! Toxxic desperately fights him off, but the Superior One merely changes his method again and grabs the rookie’s arms before rolling forward in a Gedo Clutch!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

Toxxic manages to squirm out of the pinning predicament but still ends up on his back on the mat with Tom Flesher closing in on him again. The Brit desperately kicks up at his tormentor but Flesher catches the right leg over his shoulder, so the straight-edger brings his left leg up to apply a form of vertical headscissors and before the Superior One can react he pushes himself up so his entire body is balanced on the top of his skull. He then rotates his upper body 180 degrees and uses the leverage this gives him to bring Flesher over and down to the mat! Flesher takes a moment to rise to his feet but Toxxic’s shotei’d head wasn’t fond of being used as a spinning top, and the rookie is again left with a pounding skull and a momentary inability to react that allows Tom to approach him again and reach down to hook him up for something else...

 

...but Toxxic gets him in a small package!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

Flesher breaks the pin easily once the momentary surprise has worn off but Toxxic is quicker to his feet, and the rookie dives over the top of his opponent before the Superior One is fully upright and brings him down with an Oklahoma Roll!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

Flesher rolls out of the pin again and starts to rise, but eager to keep his opponent busy and help his own head clear Toxxic desperately dives over Tom’s back to bring him down with a sunset flip!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

Flesher slams his legs into Toxxic’s temples, and the renewed assault on his aching head forces the straight-edger to break the pin. He has also succeeded in thoroughly annoying his opponent, so when Tom gets his feet back on the ground he wastes no time in driving up and forwards to plant his shoulder in the rising straight-edger’s stomach and dump him on his back with a blast double-leg takedown! With his gameplan now firmly decided Flesher reaches forward to apply a front facelock again and wrench Toxxic’s head clean off his shoulders-

 

“Aaargh!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

-but this time Toxxic’s fingers find the eyes of the Superior One, and Tom rolls off his opponent desperately swatting at his face!

 

“Disqualify him ref!” Riley shouts from the announce table. “That’s disgraceful!”

 

“Toxxic is trying to play Flesher’s game again,” Janus rumbles, sounding amused. “He’s having more luck this time, but trying to out-cheat Tom is generally futile.”

 

However questionable the move was it has given Toxxic the opening he needs, and the anger the straight-edger feels at being reduced to such methods has a target in the form of the former World Champion he shares the ring with. Flesher is spun around, eyes still watering and-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-receives a European Uppercut to the jaw as the Straight-Edge Sensation looks to make someone suffer for making him appear weak. The Superior One staggers backwards and gets two more for his pains...

 

*WHAM!*

 

*WHAM!*

 

...which drive him back onto the ropes before Toxxic grabs his wrist and whips Flesher across the ring. The hometown (semi)hero manages to reverse the momentum and lowers his head for a back bodydrop as Toxxic rebounds off the ropes but-

 

*CRUNCH-WHAM!!*

 

-merely finds his face bouncing off Toxxic’s knee and then being driven into the mat as the straight-edger hits the Sobering Thought, this time not hanging onto the front facelock long enough for Flesher to counter but falling backwards immediately into the DDT. It’s now Allison’s turn to look distraught and start pounding the ring apron as the rejuvenated Toxxic hauls his opponent up, drives a right hand into Flesher’s jaw and attempts to whip him into the far turnbuckles. Flesher again manages to reverse the momentum and sends Toxxic in instead... but that was exactly what the Straight-Edge Sensation was aiming for as he vaults to the top rope and comes flying back at the Superior One with the diving clothesline known as the Role Reversal! Both men end up on their backs for a second after impact - then Toxxic’s legs coil under his chin and the rookie kips up explosively, grinning cockily out at the Buffalo crowd!

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Just look at the arrogance displayed here,” Comet sighs as Toxxic taunts the fans briefly before turning his attention back to Tom Flesher. “You could almost imagine that the two men in the ring were related.”

 

Toxxic twines his fingers in Flesher’s short, red-blonde hair and brings the Superior One painfully to his feet, ignoring Michael Hall’s admonishments. The straight-edger moves 90 degrees to his right, setting his opponent up, then places his head under the dazed Flesher’s chin and sits out to deliver a devastating jawbreaker! Flesher drops flat to his back, perfectly aligned for what Toxxic has in mind next as the rookie steps through the ropes, rubbing the top of his head as it dawns on him that using it as a weapon wasn’t the smartest thing to do... and raises three fingers over his head.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Even in Buffalo there are a few people prepared to cheer the bad guy (well, it did produce Tom Flesher after all) and so as the straight-edger begins his next move the local Heel Section sing along, calling out the words as Toxxic vaults to the top rope...

 

“MONDO!”

 

...to the turnbuckles...

 

“AKIMBO!”

 

...MOONSAULT!

 

“A-GO-GO!”

 

*WHAM!!*

 

The Straight-Edge Sensation arcs through the air and slams into the prone body of Tom Flesher as the camera flashes go off. The impact blasts the breath from Toxxic for a moment but he quickly reaches out to hook the far leg...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

 

-but Tom Flesher kicks out with some force, and Toxxic looks slightly disappointed as he sits back.

 

“Despite his prodigious and precocious talent Toxxic still sometimes shows his inexperience,” Comet notes. “Instead of continuing his successful work on Citizen Flesher’s head he went for the showy Triple-Jump Moonsault - it looks good, but affects an entirely different area of the body!”

 

“And that’s what separates him from Tom,” Riley asserts. “Tom knows exactly what he’s doing at all times-”

 

“-and he will do right up until I drop him on his head,” Janus cuts in. “It’s going to take more than three-dozen varieties of headlock to take my Championship from me.”

 

Perhaps deciding that he needs to adopt a more simplistic approach, Toxxic straddles his opponent (earning Bobby Riley’s undying envy as he does so) and rears back to start hammering down right hands. The first one smashes into Flesher’s cheekbone, the Superior One gets his hands up to block the second and the third-

 

-then Toxxic suddenly realises that Flesher’s legs are wrapped around his midsection and the Superior One has grabbed his left arm in a desperate attempt to stall the attack and counter by locking on the Triangle Choke! Having tasted that move when executed by Nathaniel Kibagami Toxxic doesn’t waste a second in throwing himself sideways and stretching with his right arm to reach the ropes... and does so! Flesher tries his best to lock the move in so he can get some sort of revenge before he has to break the hold, but Michael Hall’s count is unrelenting and the Superior One reluctantly releases just before ‘Five’ and rolls away. Toxxic is quicker to his feet and advances on Flesher to regain the initiative, but he walks straight into a-

 

*SMACK!*

 

-shotei from the rising Superior One, who then clamps on a front facelock and hoists the straight-edger in the air before dropping him down gut-first over the top rope!

 

“LET’S GO FLESH-ER!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S GO FLESH-ER!” *clap clap clap-clap-clap*

 

Flesher does not follow up immediately but backs off instead - Toxxic’s burst of offence was fast and effective, his head is hurting him badly and he needs a couple of moments to collect his thoughts. Even his legendary confidence is shaken slightly, and the Superior One no longer feels confident in trying to keep his high-flying opponent grounded. So as Toxxic finishes bouncing on the top rope and falls to the canvas Tom decides to step-up his own offence and readies himself for a charge!

 

“It’s on its way, Comet,” Riley says. Toxxic is starting to pull himself up, holding his stomach and looking around for his opponent.

 

“What is?” the masked man asks. Riley takes a deep breath as Flesher sprints across the ring...

 

“YAAAAAKUUUUUZZZZZAAAAAAA KIIIIIII-oh...”

 

...but Toxxic ducks! Flesher pulls up short, trying to twist round to keep his eye on his opponent, and Toxxic takes a one-step sideways run-up and lashes out with a superkick-

 

*WHAP!*

 

-but Flesher catches it! For a moment the Superior One merely smirks at his opponent, then throws the boot away from him and watches Toxxic twirl a full circle on one foot. As the straight-edger comes back around Flesher steps smartly up, grabs his opponent at shoulder and waist and-

 

*WHAM!!*

 

“YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Logical Disconnect!” Riley yells in delight as Toxxic’s skull bounces off the canvas. “If Flesher’s hit that, it must be teatime in Siberia!”

 

The Superior One rolls over to hooks Toxxic’s leg and Michael Hall drops down to make the count as the HSBC Arena chants Flesher’s name...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRREEE-NOOOOOOOOOO!

 

It’s close, but Toxxic manages to get the shoulder up! The Superior One is visibly displeased at Hall’s count and demonstrates the one-two-three that he’d have liked to see, but the official is unrepentant and tells Flesher to get on with the match. Muttering under his breath, Flesher obliges... in his own fashion, of course.

 

“That’s a choke!” Comet protests as the Superior Hand starts to constrict the Straight-Edge Windpipe. “Has Tom Flesher been reduced to this?”

 

“He hasn’t been reduced to anything,” Riley argues as Flesher looks up at the fuming Michael Hall and protests his innocence while his right hand squeezes tighter. “This is a brilliant and deliberate strategy on the part of the Superior One. Toxxic can’t jump around if he can’t breathe!”

 

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” Janus says, “and just think, Bobby; if I face these two in a Triple Threat match then there is no disqualification, and therefore no reason why I can’t squeeze Toxxic and Flesher until their eyes pop out.”

 

That silences Bobby Riley (for the moment at least) and Michael Hall’s five-count finally persuades Tom Flesher that he should allow Toxxic some air. The Buffalo native stands up and turns away from his opponent - ‘accidentally’ dragging the heel of his Doc Marten down the straight-edger’s face as he does so - and backs away while Michael Hall gives him a stern lecture. Unfortunately this means that the referee’s gaze is turned away from the wheezing rookie on the canvas, and there is therefore nothing to stop Allison Onita from reaching out with her handbag strap and choking Toxxic some more...

 

*THUNK!*

 

...nothing, that is, except for the fact that Jet has picked up a chair from beside Funyon and has ‘casually’ whacked it into the ringpost. The noise attracts Allison’s attention and she instantly backs away from the younger girl, every line of her body suggesting that it would have been a freak and regrettable coincidence if any item belonging to her had happened to come into contact with Jet’s boyfriend, oh dear me yes... Meanwhile Flesher sees over Hall’s shoulder that his opponent is not being satisfactorily asphyxiated and moves forward to take control of events again.

 

“TAAAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

“TAAAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

“TAAAAAAAAA-MO...”

 

Flesher brings Toxxic up and sends a shotei into his opponent’s face to stagger him, then blasts one into the straight-edger’s stomach. Toxxic folds up and slumps backwards, landing in a seated position at the base of the turnbuckles where Flesher steps up, places the side of his Doc on the rookie’s cheek and almost takes Toxxic’s head off with a nasty bootscrape! As the crowd respond with mixed reactions - half cheering, half going “OOOHHHHH...” - Flesher steps up for a repeat performance, this time almost needing to scrape Toxxic’s facial features from the sole of his boot upon completion!

 

“That’ll smudge his eyeliner!” Riley cackles.

 

The Superior One backs up a few steps, smiling smugly, and bounces on the spot a couple of time, evidently limbering up for something. He slaps his right thigh a couple of times, takes a couple of theatrical deep breaths and charges in, looking to deliver a brutal running version that would surely leave the rookie requiring reconstructive surgery... but Toxxic half-ducks, half-falls to one side and Flesher merely finds himself making an intimate acquaintance with the middle rope! The Superior Package is only mildly compressed by its arrival and Flesher does not suffer any undue groinal trauma, but Toxxic manages to hook an arm between his opponent’s legs and bring the Superior One over into a schoolboy pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

Kickout!

 

Flesher rolls back up to his feet and lunges forward, snaring the still-dazed rookie in a front facelock and dragging him backwards to the centre of the ring with a smug grin on his face.

 

“What’s coming up now?” Riley asks with interest. “Superiority Complex? Brainbuster?”

 

Flesher reaches down and hooks Toxxic’s right leg from the inside.

 

“No,” Comet replies quietly. “Caffeine Bomb.”

 

With a look around at his home crowd the Superior One hoists his opponent upwards, seeking to drop Toxxic with his own finisher for the second time... but in mid-air the straight-edger twists! He squirms out of Flesher’s grip, lands behind him and manages to hook in a Dragon sleeper on the way down!

 

“Reversed!” Comet yells. “Toxxic could get the Repeat To Fade hooked in here!”

 

But Toxxic doesn’t go for the hammerlock and bodyscissors - instead he starts to push forwards and down, looking to drive Flesher onto his front and apply the Superior Stretch Beta! He manages to get the Superior One down to his knees but then Flesher’s desperately scrabbling hands manage to pry Toxxic’s arm open just enough to squeeze his head out and he scrambles away!

 

“Merciful Zeus!” Comet seethes. “When will these two stop trying to show each other up with their opponent’s moves and try winning the match?”

 

“They seem to care more about each other than about me and my title,” Janus comments. “And that will cost them.”

 

Toxxic lunges forward, looking to regain the advantage, but Flesher simply slams another shotei into the side of the straight-edger’s head before Irish whipping him into the ropes. The Brit rebounds and Flesher grabs him under the arms, looking to bring him over with the Railgun suplex... but Flesher is tired too and he doesn’t hook it quite as well as he might, with the result that Toxxic is able to somersault forward through the move-

 

*THWAP!*

 

-and land, albeit somewhat unsteadily, on his feet.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Flesher scrambles up off the mat in an attempt to shut the rookie down before Toxxic can get any room to manoeuvre, but the Straight-Edge Sensation is already moving. Before Tom is even fully upright Toxxic launches himself along the mat, slicing into Flesher’s shins and sending the former World Champion head-over-heels. The Superior One is up straight away again, but he’s hobbling now. And Toxxic manages to double-underhook Flesher’s arms before bringing him UP...

 

...AROUND...

 

...AND...

 

...DOWN!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

“Toxxic Shock Syndrome!” Comet calls as the entire HSBC Arena groans. “Toxxic could be about to defeat Flesher in his hometown!”

 

“No!” Riley screams. “Don’t let it happen! Hall, if you count this...”

 

The rookie lies beside the prone Flesher for a couple of seconds, desperately trying to clear his head after the pounding he’s taken and the last-gasp exertion of the Toxxic Shock Syndrome. Only then does he manage to muster the effort to roll the Superior One onto his back and drape an arm over for the cover.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Flesher kicks out,” Comet yells above the din, “and Buffalo is behind him now!”

 

Toxxic stares up at Michael Hall with pleading in his black-rimmed eyes, but the official sticks to his original decision and it starts to dawn on Toxxic that last-gasp was not enough. So he slowly pushes himself to his feet again, wearily twirls two fingers over his head and heads for the nearest turnbuckle. Meanwhile, Flesher has made no move since kicking out of the pin.

 

“It looks like Toxxic could be going for the Hangover here,” Comet notes as the straight-edger heads up top, “and after the Toxxic Shock Syndrome it could finish the job...”

 

...but Flesher has other ideas! As Toxxic reaches the apex of his climb Tom starts to rise; in the process he ‘accidentally’ grabs onto Michael Hall for support and ‘accidentally’ sends the referee into the ring ropes, an event that causes Toxxic to lose his precarious footing and land crotch-first astride the top buckle!

 

“FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER! FLESH-ER!”

 

Jet is screaming at Hall, but the referee can’t prove that Flesher’s actions were intentional. His possum act didn’t actually involve that much acting - he’s finding it difficult to stand unaided, but the Superior One makes it to the corner and starts to climb, reaching the second rope and placing Toxxic in a front facelock!

 

“Boilermaker!” Riley exults. “Drop him Tom! Drop him like your towel at bathtime!”

 

Flesher sets himself and tries to lift, but his attempts are impeded by Toxxic desperately driving a fist into his ribs! The blow winds the Superior One, and as he tries to get his breath back Toxxic fires off another... and another... Tom is forced to release the facelock and the straight-edger sits up and nails his opponent in the face with a European Uppercut, causing Flesher to topple unsteadily!

 

Janus leans forward, red eyes fixed intently on events.

 

Flesher is out of his element and only barely holding on. Toxxic takes his chance to swing his feet over the top rope until they rest on the middle cable next to the Superior One’s, then with his new improved leverage he reaches down... and hooks Flesher’s right leg from the inside.

 

“No...” Comet whispers.

 

“Not this!” Riley squeals.

 

Janus just laughs.

 

With one last, almighty effort Toxxic forces his tired muscles to lift 230lbs of egomaniac off the second buckle, jumping forwards and dropping as he does so. It isn’t crisp, and it isn’t clean.

 

But it does drop Tom Flesher right on his head in the middle of the HSBC Arena.

 

*BAM!*

 

The leg is already cradled for the fall. And as Michael Hall drops to make the count the Hell Machine rises from his seat at the announce desk.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crunching guitars of Lostprophets ring out over the HSBC Arena, mingling with jeers from the fans and Bobby Riley’s whimperings. Toxxic slumps backwards, exhausted almost to the point of collapse by his efforts - but he has done it. He has beaten Tom Flesher. And the lopsided grin creeps over his features again.

 

A grin that disappears as a black fingerless-gloved hand reaches down and clamps around his throat.

 

“Is there any need for this?” Comet yells in frustration as Janus hauls Toxxic up. “Sure, kill each other, but do it in a match!”

 

The Hell Machine isn’t listening however, and with one surge of powerful muscles he hoists the Straight-Edge Sensation nine feet into the air before driving him down to the canvas with a monstrous chokeslam! Janus isn’t satisfied and reaches down to do more damage but Jet slides through the ropes and grabs Toxxic’s foot, towing him back out of the ring before the huge Australian can attack again. Red eyes blazing, the Hell Machine turns in search of his other challenger only to find that Allison has performed the same service for Tom Flesher. Deprived of his chance to inflict lasting damage Janus settles for unclipping the World Title from his waist, raising it above his head and roaring his defiance at anyone who would seek to take it from him, as we

 

FADE OUT

 

Copyright SWF 2004

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