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SWF Smarkdown! (8/16/04)

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The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...

SWF SMARKDOWN, MONDAY, AUGUST 16TH, LIVE FROM THE AMERICAN WEST ARENA IN PHOENIX, ARIZONA IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SUMMER!! WHEW!! (5:00pm PCT, 8:00pm EST; check local listings)

 

 

SIX-MAN MAIN EVENT OF DOOM!!

The Masked Man, Mike Van Siclen, and Todd Cortez vs. Andrea Montgomery, The Birdman, and Justin Bowers

~ Wow. Is this zany or what. Masked Man/MVS/Cortez is something that I just don’t want to get into right now, but to say the least, there are several possible directions that this match could go in, and no matter what, someone’s feelings are bound to get hurt. On the other side of things, the Birdman delays his Hardcore Title shot in order to team up with Andrea here, as well as… Justin Bowers? Huh, how the hell did he get into the Main Event? As I said, zany.

Rules: Normal six-man stuff. Two men in the ring at once… count-outs/DQ’s are in effect but not heavily enforced… we just throw everyone together and hope that it doesn’t turn out to be too much of a clusterfuck.

Word Limit: 7000

Marker: chirs3

 

SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE WACKINESS!!

”The Superior One” Tom Flesher vs. Sean Davis w/ Special Guest Ref: “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins

Tom Flesher has what Spike Jenkins thinks he rightfully deserves. Male genitals. But on another note, he also has the SWF Cruiserweight Title around his waist. That also slightly ticks off Jenkins. That said, seeing as how this fed is ALL ABOUT being FAIR… we’re having Tom do battle with Jenkins’ tag partner, and making Spike the guest referee! MAD WILD CRAZY MADNESS~!

Rules: Well, we’ll just see what Spike’s definition of “rules” is. Spike can write if he wants to.

Word Limit: 6000

Marker: Grand Slam

 

SUBMISSION MATCH!! OH MY!!

Landon Maddix vs. Ace Lezaire

~ Hrm, only one man will continue to impress us higher-ups here in the SWF after tonight, and the other won’t just lose… he’ll tap out.

Rules: No DQ’s. No Count-Outs. But in order for a man to win, he must make his opponent tap out INSIDE the ring, and in the center, to boot. Rope breaks can’t be enforced, really, but if a man taps out and he’s touching the ropes, it means jack-shit, so it’d be smart to apply your Crazy 8 Indian Venus Fly Trap Death Lock Mach 4 or whatever you’ve got up your sleeve as far away from the ropes as possible.

Word Limit: 5700

Marker: Kibagami

 

RECOVERY MATCH!!

Dace Night vs. Johnny Dangerous

~ Both men lost their respective Lockdown matches, which is a downer, but tonight, they’ll both be given the chance to get back on track!! A win here for Johnny would be particularly impressive. Up until his loss on Lockdown, he was on a semi-roll and on his way to the SWF upper-card… and what could possibly help him continue that roll more than a clean win against the fed’s resident Hardcore King?

Rules: Standard. How boring.

Word Limit: 5500

Marker: chirs3

 

USJL TITLE MATCH!!

“The Corona” Vladimir Everheart vs. Manson©

~ Vlad won a shot at Manson’s title on Lockdown. He cashes in immediately. Fighting is fun and all, but fighting for GOLD is an entirely different shindig. These two are out for blood, and the USJL title. Now kill each other already.

Rules: The usual batch.

Word Limit: 5500

Marker: Thoth

 

HARDCORE BOUT!!

Jamie Drazon vs. Candace

~ Candace is deadly. She is beautiful. She is young, talented, and has two men escort her wherever she goes. So far here in the SWF, she’s undefeated. Her entrance theme is even a David Bowie song, for Christ’s sake. Yup, you could easily say that Candace is bound to go far here in the SWF. So what should we do for her second match, you ask? PIT HER AGAINST THE HARDCORE MOTHERFUCKING GOD JAY DAWG JAMIE DRAZON IN A HARDCORE MOTHERFUCKING MATCH AND WATCH HER BLEED!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! DIE, CANDACE, DIE!!!! …*cough* Sorry. …Uhm, make us proud, Candy.

Rules: There are none. Deal with it.

Word Limit: 5000

Marker: Thoth

 

FOUR-MAN THREE-PHASE ELIMINATION MATCH!!

Ryan Dustin vs. David Cross vs. Edward James vs. Nathan Xavier

~ Floundering wrestlers a-go-go here, as far as I know. A win for any of these men (especially Cross or Xavier, the n00bz) could bump them up a notch on the SWF card.

Rules: Alright, this is how this shit goes down. Four men start out in the ring at the same time. Disqualifications and Count-Outs are in full effect. One man is eliminated by being disqualified, pinned, counted out, or by submitting, and he returns to the backstage area, leaving the three remaining competitors behind. At this point, the count-outs rule is dropped, and wrestlers can be pinned anywhere in the arena. Once one more competitor is pinned, leaving two men left, the disqualification rule is dropped. So with the last two men left, there are no rules, and they’re free to roam about to bludgeon each other with aluminum bats or whatever. Perhaps a bit complicated, but eh, I was bored, and I’m sure you’ll survive. Go at it, boys.

Word Limit: 5000

Marker: Suicide King

 

 

OPENING SINGLES MATCH OF DEATH!!

Ced Ordonez vs. "Grand Slam” Mark Stevens

~ Your standard singles match to start out the show. Except this one has an ex-referee and Bemani Cross Wizard against a former world champion and hall of famer. You don't even want to know what the line is down in Vegas.

Rules: Standard-osity.

Word Limit: 4000

Marker: Kibagami

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“Welcome to SWF Smarkdown. The following programme may contain images that might be unsuitable for younger viewers. Or older viewers. Or those who don’t like blood, people being hit with blunt instruments, swearing, anything involving Spike Jenkins in the ring, or the sight of Strangler’s naked BUTT.

 

“OK, so that last one is unlikely, but ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN IN THE SWF~”

 

 

 

FIVE...

 

 

FOUR...

 

 

THREE...

 

 

TWO...

 

 

ONE...

 

 

*BAM! BAM! BAM! BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG BOOOOOOOOOOM!!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

The cameras pan around the American West Arena, taking in the multitude of sweating, shouting and probably slightly drunk fans in attendance for Smarkdown! Skipping over signs like “Candace = OMGBANPLZ!” and “wHoAT!” the viewers at home find their televisions screens suddenly filled with the twin towers of Bobby Riley and everyone’s favourite soft drink shiller, Cyclone Comet.

 

“Welcome, Citizens, to SWF SMARKDOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWNNN~!” the masked man bellows with all the enthusiasm of Mark Kinxx seeing something that contains no peanuts. “We are here in sunny Phoenix, Arizona, hosting a SELLOUT crowd in the American West Arena!”

 

“A fool and his money are soon parted...” Riley is heard to mutter.

 

“For shame, Robert!” Comet booms, flashing his best cheesy grin at the camera and elbowing his co-commentator firmly in the ribs, “put away that book of proverbs, it’s time to call the action!”

 

“What book, you spandex-clad freak?” Riley demands. “I was talking about the morons who paid to ge-OW!”

 

“Ah, the lumbago playing up again is it?” Comet mugs sympathetically as only the faintest hint of alteration in his posture suggests the heroic boot now grinding hard into Riley’s toes. “Never mind, we’ll just have to mute your microphone until you can talk freely again.” Not even his mask can hide Comet’s desperately waggling eyebrows as he tries to pass a message to the production crew behind a guise of being a deluded and over-the-top superhero.

 

“I’ll lumbago you, you piece of-”

 

Amazingly, someone in production catches on to the slight increase in Comet’s act.

 

“...” is Riley’s only comment. But before he can say anything else, a drum solo kicks up over the PA system and the entire American West Arena erupts in a frenzy of cheers as they recognise the start of ‘Painkiller’ by Death! The lights flash red and white in time to the manic percussion, then-

 

*BAM!*

 

-the entire entrance ramp lights up in white pyro as the opening scream roars out!

 

‘Faster than a bullet

Terrifying scream

Enraged and full of anger

He's half man and half machine’

 

The SWF faithful stand in ovation as the black Smarktron screens seemingly shatters like glass to show red-filtered clips of Dace Night dropping people on their heads, and out through the smoke strides...

 

 

 

 

 

...a slim girl with red-and-black dreadlocks.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“That’s Jet!” Comet says in amazement. “What in the name of Methuselah’s mother is she doing coming out to Dace Night’s music?”

 

“...!”

 

“I’m aware of that, Robert,” Comet agrees as the Philadelphia native slinks down the entrance ramp, “however I do feel that-”

 

“...! ...?”

 

“Well, I can’t say for sure, but-”

 

“...!”

 

“Really, Robert. There’s no call for that sort of language.” Sighing, the hero signals the production crew. “I never thought I’d say this Johnno, but please turn Citizen Riley’s mic back on.”

 

“-bout time too!” Riley splutters.

 

While the commentators are arguing, Jet has entered the ring and called for a microphone from Funyon. The veteran ring announcer reluctantly hands one over and the dreadlocked beauty looks around at the Phoenix crowd.

 

“What? You were expecting someone else?”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Calm down,” Jet laughs, “you’ll get to see Dace Night later on this evening. This was just to get your attention, because the person you really need to be thinking about is ready to make his way to the ring.” The Philly native flashes a quick smile at Funyon as she raises the mic again. “Please tell me if I do this wrong.”

 

The Smarktron abruptly whites out, and the opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire rings across the American West Arena. The screen darkens to black, and as it does so jagged white letters flash up a familiar slogan...

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG’

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The screen changes slightly as the guitar riff kicks in and the black becomes the top of a spiky-haired head which raises to stare out of the Smarktron with two piercing grey eyes before the right side of Toxxic’s face creases up into his trademark lopsided grin. The screen changes and clips of the World Champion’s most notable matches flash up as the bass drum starts, alternating with the words ‘STRAIGHT-EDGE SENSATION’ and ‘REVOLUTION ZERO’ before footage of Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the four blasts of red pyro that climb the sides of the entrance ramp and the final, stage-wide eruption-

 

*BAM-BAM-BAM-bap-BOOOM!!*

 

-that signifies the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger as the main riff kicks in! And through the smoke and the after-image the pyro burnt into the back of everyone’s eyelids...

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

...wearing his customised England shirt with “sXe” over a number “9” on the back...

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

...with the SWF World Title around his waist and the trademark lopsided grin creeping up the right hand side of his face...

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

...comes Toxxic.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen of Phoenix, Arizona,” Jet calls out, “please welcome the leader of Revolution Zero and the SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION; he is the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... “TOOOOXXXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!”

 

Well. There’s not much chance of that, really.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

The World Champion is smiling as he walks down the ramp, despite the hostility of his reception. He rolls under the bottom rope, wincing slightly as his back reminds him of the abuse it took from Dace Night on Lockdown, and comes up to his feet to a hug and a kiss from Jet. Then the Straight-Edge Sensation pauses, waits... and throws his arms wide, palms flat, to send a burst of red pyro from the top of each turnbuckle as the verse starts.

 

*bap-bap*

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

‘I never thought this could be me

I guess you never do until it’s happening to you

Like all the fun turns into shame

And all the ‘could-have-beens’ rearrange...’

 

‘Rookie’ fades out as Toxxic takes the microphone from Jet and stares around at the Phoenix crowd. He catches sight of the signs that have suddenly become prevalent - ‘DACE WUZ ROBBED!’, ‘STOP THE REVOLUTION!’ and that one featuring his head on a tampon, which he still doesn’t get. Shrugging, the straight-edger raises the mic and begins to speak.

 

“Well... here we are in Phoenix.”

 

The reaction to that is mixed. Some people cheer, because some people always will. Rather more of the crowd don’t like the champion saying the name of their city, and boo. Toxxic continues to grin, ignoring both parties.

 

“I’m telling you, I don’t know how you people live here,” the Brit says, wiping sweat from his brow. “It’s the evening, and I’m still way too hot. I’m surprised the heat doesn’t bake the brains out of you and leave you all as drivelling idiots.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Ok, so maybe it does,” the straight-edger shrugs. “Anyway, speaking of idiots who come from Phoenix; Nathaniel Kibagami.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

“SIIIIIIIIII-LENT...”

 

“Yup, he came from here,” Toxxic acknowledges as the crowd continues the chant the name of his old adversary, “and I retired him. I didn’t bring him up for any real reason except to give you another chance to boo me, since you seem to enjoy it so much.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Well, if you’re in attendance Nathan, I hope your neck’s feeling OK. And honestly, I really do, because last Lockdown I’m sure I hurt you in a way that’s just as bad as what I did at 13th Hour. Because last Wednesday, I did something that no-one else has managed to do since Charlie Matthews.

 

“I managed a successful defence of the SWF World Heavyweight Title, something you failed to do when you lost it back to Danny Williams.”

 

The crowd are unsure whether to boo that or not (after all, Williams is popular too), so they fall back on the old failsafe.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Yeah, I defended the belt against Dace F’n Night,” Toxxic continues, shrugging the title over his shoulder. “And I don’t know if anyone else noticed this, but didn’t Dace’s new music seem hauntingly appropriate that night? He always used to come out to ‘Hero’ and beat down the people you hate; on Lockdown he comes out to new music called ‘Painkiller’ and I drop him on his head.” The Straight-Edge Sensation’s grin widens. “I don’t know about you, but that strikes me as somewhat ironic.”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Ah yes,” the straight-edger says, rolling his eyes. “I forgot you needed an IQ higher than a piece of particularly mouldy bread to know what ‘irony’ is. Never mind, you seem to have mastered three syllables at least.” Before the crowd can quite catch up to that one the world champion forges ahead.

 

“Now I’ve broken the ‘curse’ that seemed to go with the piece of gold, I think it’s time to shift things around a bit,” Toxxic tells the Phoenix faithful. “Y’see, the last thing I want to do is get complacent. Some of the other World Champions never defended the belt between Pay-Per-Views, some of them didn’t even get to the next Pay-Per-View. I’m obviously better than them, but I need to stretch myself a little. So I’ve come up with this marvellous concept - the Toxxic Open Challenge.”

 

“The Toxxic Open Challenge?” Comet asks in confusion. “What in the name of Zeus is he talking about?”

 

“I don’t know, but I want to find out,” Riley replies sternly, “so hush!”

 

“See, I think it’s time we opened up the ranks a little,” the straight-edger continues, hefting the World Title, “so everyone who’s feeling trapped in the undercard, listen up.” The World Champion looks around at the fans packed into the American West Arena. They’ve stopped booing now; they seem to have picked up on the fact that Toxxic has something vaguely important to say. “I’m pretty damn sure I can beat any of you. But with things the way they are I’m not likely to face half of you, and quite frankly - where’s the fun in that? So here’s the deal:

 

“As of now, I’m putting this belt - the greatest prize in the SWF - on the line against anyone. You don’t have to be on a fabulous winning streak, you don’t have to have won a Number One Contender’s match... you don’t have to be sucking up to Zenon,” Toxxic continues, smirking as he does so. “The first person who tells me they want a go will get a title shot on Storm. And before the match on Storm, I’ll be waiting to name another contender for Lockdown, because make no mistake about it, I am going to win.”

 

“Citizens, this is astonishing,” Comet says, completely nonplussed. “The World Champion appears to be ready to take on anyone in the SWF! Criminal or not, I’d actually applaud his courage... if I wasn’t concerned about the state of his mental health.”

 

“Quick! Someone phone Flesher and tell him to get out here!” Riley snaps, hunting for his mobile.

 

“There are only two restrictions,” Toxxic says, counting them off on his fingers. “First; if I have already defeated you for the World Title, you cannot get a shot like this. At the moment this only applies to Flesher and Dace, plus Janus if he ever comes back, but of course,” the straight-edger grins provocatively, “the names on that list will increase as I defeat more and more people.”

 

“That’s unfair!” Riley snorts. “He’s just doing that to hide from Tom!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Second;” the champion continues, “I’m not having any Johnny-come-latelys or untested rookies getting the chance for a freak upset - in order to qualify for a shot like this, you have to have already had five matches in the SWF... and in case there are any non-bumped guys out there thinking of making a grand return, the SJL does not count!” Toxxic leans back on the turnbuckles. “Anyone who doesn’t qualify - you’ll just have to earn a shot like everyone used to, back in the day.”

 

The fans in Phoenix are buzzing; this wasn’t what they expected when the Straight-Edge Sensation came out, and they’re pleasantly surprised by the notion that more-or-less anyone has the right to demand a match against Toxxic and take his title away.

 

“As long as I haven’t got any plans for the show in question, you’ll get your shot. You can tell me in person, or you can phone me if you know my number,” Toxxic tells the locker room. “You can approach me in the ring, or in the back. You can even talk to the bloody booking committee if you’re feeling shy. But since I’m standing here right now, I haven’t got anything else to do this evening and I’m wearing this shirt,” he briefly fingers the replica England soccer shirt he’s wearing, “allow me to quote a large number of my fellow countrymen when I say... “COME AND ‘AVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!”

 

That last is delivered at full volume as the World Champion leans over the top rope and flips the classic British v-sign in the general direction of the dressing room. For several long moments nothing happens; the arena remains quiet except for the gradually increasing mutters from the Phoenix fans and Toxxic just waits, impatient arrogance painted over his eyelinered face.

 

“Well Citizens, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens now,” Comet says. “I’m not sure how long Toxxic will be permitted to wait out here - we do have our opening match due at any second. However, the World Champion doesn’t look like he wants to-”

 

‘JOHNNY DANGEROUS!

 

“Oh no,” Riley groans as the American West Arena rises to its collective feet, “not that moron!”

 

But Riley’s dread is borne out as the lights dim in conjunction with the sultry female announcement, and My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult’s ‘After The Flesh’ starts to thump out over the arena PA. Smoke billows out at the top of the ramp as strobe lighting kicks in, and while the female fans in attendance raise the volume of their screams a little the SWF’s resident Secret Agent makes his way out into centre stage. The Barracuda’s silhouette pauses for a moment, back-lit by all the strobes, then starts to make his way purposefully down to the ring. Toxxic steps back from the ropes with an expression of amused condescension on his face as Dangerous approaches, but Johnny looks deadly serious as he climbs into the ring and beckons the ring crew to get him another mic. Fully equipped, Dangerous turns to face the World Champion and raises the mic to his mouth... but Toxxic beats him to it.

 

“Well, you didn’t take long,” the straight-edger says, looking Dangerous up and down, “but then again, the Barracuda is one of the fastest fish in the sea.” Toxxic’s grin turns nasty. “And he finishes even faster in the bedroom, or so the ladies say.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Johnny just glares at the smirking Brit and raises his mic again - but once more, Toxxic cuts him off.

 

“OK Johnny, I think I can guess what you’re out here for,” the champion says. “Looking... rather like the bastard offspring of Keanu Reaves and Eric Bischoff, actually.” Toxxic makes a show of peering at the Barracuda’s hair. “Is that Just For Men, I see? But seriously, just so we clarify this; are you out here to accept my challenge, or are you merely demonstrating why impressionable people should never watch The Matrix?”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IX SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“If you can keep your ego under control for a second,” Johnny says tightly, looking like he wants to do nothing more than smack the Straight-Edge Sensation in the kisser, “I might tell you... instead of kicking your arrogant ass all over Phoenix, Arizona!”

 

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

The fans react with great enthusiasm to that prospect, but Toxxic simply grins his lopsided grin at the Barracuda and readjusts the title over his shoulder as if to say ‘yeah, right’.

 

“Come on Johnny,” the straight-edger says, “can’t I be allowed a little time to be happy? I’ve successfully defended the belt once, and I’m already the most dominant World Champion since February!” He waves his hand dismissively. “Sure, go ahead, blow your load.” Johnny narrows his eyes at Toxxic, but the Brit says nothing more and Dangerous raises the mic to his mouth again.

 

“Yeah... I’m taking you up on your challenge,” he confirms, to the mass approval of the Phoenix crowd. “I’m busy tonight, but if you can fit me into your hectic schedule,” that bit is said with withering scorn, “would you care to kiss that belt goodbye at Storm?”

 

“Storm...” Toxxic says, as if mulling it over. “Well... OK, you’re on!” he finishes decisively, looking up and flashing the Barracude a condescending grin. “But tell me something, Johnny; since you’ve been losing to Landon, and you’re going to be losing to Dace Night tonight, while I’ve been beating everyone around including Dace Night and Tom Flesher... why do you think you can win?”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“The arrogance of this man!” Comet gasps in fury. “I don’t care who he’s beaten - to talk to another SWF superstar like that is blatant disrespect!”

 

“I think that was kind of the point,” Riley points out.

 

Johnny Dangerous looks at the cocky straight-edger in front of him. And slowly, a smile spreads over the Barracuda’s features as the crowd continue to chant.

 

“Why do I think I can win?” he says, squaring up to the World Champion. “Two reasons. Firstly; all the people here are right,” he sweeps his arm out to encompass the American West Arena, “...because Toxxic sucks.”

 

“JOHN-EE!”

 

“JOHN-EE!”

 

“JOHN-EE!”

 

“Secondly;” Johnny continues, “because of this...”

 

*SMACK!!*

 

“RAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Johnny Kick!” Comet yells in delight as the Barracuda lashes his right boot sideways and up into Toxxic’s jaw, dropping the World Champion and his title to the mat. “Agent Dangerous just showed the so-called Straight-Edge Sensation exactly what he thinks of him!”

 

“Cheap shot!” Riley screams. “That was a damn cheap shot Comet, and you know it!”

 

Johnny looks interested in the World Title belt but Jet steps forward to defend her fallen boyfriend, and the Secret Agent has no interest in fighting women. Instead he just smiles at her and casts one last lingering look at the title before stepping through the ropes and starting to make his way up the ramp while the cheers of the crowd continue to ring in his ears.

 

“JOHN-EE!”

 

“JOHN-EE!”

 

“JOHN-EE!”

 

Toxxic is sitting up, rubbing his jaw and casting a dark glance at the receding back of his new challenger. Johnny appears to be entirely unconcerned with the Straight-Edge Sensation and is instead busy charming a couple of the ladies who have lined the entrance ramp, but he blows them a kiss and disappears into the back as Toxxic angrily regains his feet and snatches his title up.

 

“Comet, I think Johnny has ruined our World Champion’s good mood,” Riley tells his broadcast partner, who is beaming through his mask.

 

“Oh indeed, Robert, and it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person,” the superhero agrees. “Now don’t go away, Citizens - we’ve got ‘Grand Slam’ versus the Bermani Cross Wizard coming up NEXT~!”

 

FADE OUT

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We rejoin Smarkdown as the lights go out and the beat of Niko's "Night of Fire" begins to, pardon the expression, fire up the crowd.

 

Near the entrance, a group of shadowy figures slowly appear from underneath the raised stage via a built-in elevator. These figures remain motionless in various poses until...

 

"FIRE!"

 

A female group in the song yells as fireballs shoot upward in front of the stage and the figures are revealed to be Ced Ordonez and four female dancers. They immediately start a heavily choreographed dance routine as the stage is illuminated in an elaborate light show. After a minute or two of pumping up the crowd, Ced breaks away from the group and makes his way to the ring.

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, this first contest is scheduled for One Fall! Introducing first, hailing from Sacramento, California and weighing in at two hundred and nine pounds, he is the Bemani Cross Wizard... CED ORDONEZ!!!

 

He slides in and makes his way to the one of the far turnbuckle sets, posing for the crowd for the obligatory photo op. The crowd is excited to see him, giving him a good sized pop and taking advantage of the photo op to make some memories on film.

 

Ced then looks back to the entrance way and directs the crowd's attention to his dance troupe before they head to the back. Ced then gives the crowd one more photo op before going into his pre-match stretch.

 

Comet: Welcome back to Smarkdown, and it is time for the first match of the night! The crowd is giving Citizen Ordonez a nice welcome tonight Robert!

 

Riley: Would it be possible for me to go somewhere else during this match?

 

Comet: Robert! I'm ashamed of you! We have a duty...

 

Riley: Oh Lord...

 

Comet: A sacred duty to give the fans at home a look inside the match and keep them informed by tapping into our years of experience about strategies and counters and...

 

Riley: Oh look... something's happening...

 

The lights go out...

 

several seconds of hushed silence cause the crowd to become restless... they are clapping, talking, shouting, waving signs, waiting for whatever is about to happen...

 

 

::Crack!!!::

 

 

The crowd, simply put, explodes!

 

The crack of a bat and the roar of the crowd announce Grand Slam!! It quickly fades into the opening bass of "Born Bad", his classic anthem. The SmarkTron lights up with baseball highlights mixed with big spots from Grand Slam's matches while flashing the words "Grand Slam", "Mark Stevens" and "The Heavy Hitter". The various multicolored lights flash in time with the rhythmic bass until the guitars crash and the lead singer cries out "Born Bad!", then the arena is flooded with bright white light!! Red and white pyro explodes at the top of the entrance ramp!! When the smoke clears and everyone can see again, "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens is standing underneath the SmarkTron!!! The crowd erupts in even more cheers for the Heavy Hitter!!!

 

Funyon: And his opponent, weighing in at three hundred and one pounds and hailing from Lincoln, Nebraska, he is the Heavy Hitter... "GRAND SLAM" MARK STEVENS!!!

 

As Funyon makes his announcement, the Heavy Hitter walks down the ramp slowly, savoring every moment of cheers and pointing at various fans, slapping hands and keeping them screaming! Tonight, as the camera zooms in, he is wearing an Arizona Diamondbacks baseball cap!! When the crowd sees this, they cheer even louder, nearly drowning out his music!! Grand Slam steps into the ring between the ropes and heads to a corner. He then climbs to the second turnbuckle, looks at the crowd, then pumps his right fist into the air several times, firing the crowd up even more and causing a flurry of flashbulbs to pop, illuminating the ring like a strobe-light!! Before dropping back to the mat, Grand Slam flings his cap out to the crowd, giving some lucky fan a unique souvenir from the SWF!!! He drops from the ropes and takes off his varsity jacket, handing it off to Funyon as the ring announcer exits the ring. Now his face becomes serious and he stares at his opponent as Ced finshes his stretches.

 

Comet: There he is Robert! A former two-time World Champion, a first ballot Hall-of-Famer and one of, if not the best, technical wrestler in the history of the SWF!

 

Riley: Good grief Comet, are you going to ask him for his number next?

 

Comet: Define irony...

 

The ref turns to the timekeeper and points, and the bell is rung!

 

** Ding ding ding **

 

Comet: And this match is underway!

 

The two warriors approach each other. Ced says something to Grand Slam, a smile visible beneath his mask, then extends his hand. The crowd lets out a nice cheer for the sportmanship as Grand Slam grabs the smaller man's extended hand and gives it a firm shake. Accompanied by the enthusiastic cheers of the fans, the two men start to circle the ring again, sizing each other up.

 

Then, with a stomp, they come together in the center of the ring. Grand Slam goes for the collar-and-elbow, but the wily Ced ducks underneath his arms, moves behind the much slower Heavy Hitter, runs quickly to the ropes, springboards off them, catching Grand Slam just as he turns around with a hard flying back elbow strike that knocks the big man off his feet!

 

Comet: What a move by Citizen Ordonez!

 

Riley: As much as I hate to admit it, that is exactly how he can win this match. Move quickly, strike hard and stay the hell out of reach of Grand Scam!

 

Ced pops back to his feet, jumps straight into the air and comes down feet first onto Grand Slam's midsection, knocking the wind out of the big man and getting an apprecative pop from the crowd! With momentum all on his side, Ced doesn't waste any time, throwing himself backwards into the ropes, bouncing back, leaping and falling forward hard, elbow first into the sternum of the Heavy Hitter!! The Masked Wizard gets right back to his feet and goes to the near corner, hopping to the top rope and perching, waiting like a vulture for Stevens to get to his feet!

 

Riley: This is a mistake Comet. He's got a guy like Grand Slam on the ropes, he needs to stay on him, keep punishing him with kicks and stomps, keep him on the mat. But he's going to the top rope to show off for the crowd!

 

Comet: I would love to know what he's planning here Robert!

 

Grand Slam rolls to his stomach and pushes himself slowly to his knees, then uses the ropes to get to his feet. He turns as he stands, looking for his opponent and finding him just as Ced leaps from the top rope! He lands on Grand Slam's shoulders and tries to flip backwards, pulling the big man down with a hurricanrana, but Grand Slam plants his feet and stands pat! Ced pulls himself back to sitting position to try and pull Grand Slam over, but the big man is ready for him! He grabs Ced under the arms and falls forward, driving Ced into the mat with a prime-time powerbomb!

 

Comet: Look at the power Robert! The Heavy Hitter just crushed Ced with that massive powerbomb!

 

Riley: Look at the old man too crippled to get off the mat! ::snicker::

 

Indeed, in the ring, both men are down and the ref is starting the ten count. Ced is pushing his way to his feet, one hand on his back trying to rub the pain away. Next to him Grand Slam is trying to take a deep breath as he pushes his way off the mat. The ref only gets to six before Ced is on his feet. He points out to the crowd, getting a good response, and he begins to shuffle his feet, starting a rhythmic clap. Within seconds, the crowd joins in, providing a simple beat for the Bemani Cross Wizard to dance to! Meanwhile, Grand Slam has pulled himself to his feet, one hand on the top rope, one hand on his chest, like he is trying to force air in and out of his lungs. Once Grand Slam is on his feet, Ced moves in with his classic Freestyle Routine! The crowd is certainly enjoying itself as Ordonez strikes Grand Slam with fists and feet, pummeling the slower man! Finally, with a hard knee to the stomach, grand Slam doubles over and falls back into the ropes. Ced pulls the knee back and turns it into a nice spin, pointing out at the audience as he puts his feet through another complicated DDR sequence!

 

Riley: Comet. I have seen a lot of dumbass things in this Fed, but his has got to take the cake!

 

Comet: Robert, you need to loosen up!

 

As Comet matches Ced move-for-move, Grand Slam gets back to his feet, a wary look on his face. Ced claps and sends a backhand slap towards Grand Slam that catches the Heavy Hitter right on the chin! Ced spins and comes back with a forearm to smash across Grand Slam's nose, but this time the former World Champ is ready! He snatches the arm out of the air and pulls Ced towards him, clotheslining him hard across the chest and sending him hard to the mat! Grand Slam sucks a little air and reaches down, pulling Ced up by the chin and into a front facelock. Turning to face the ropes, he stomps his foot and drives Ced up, over and down with a fierce snap suplex!!

 

Comet: Oh my! Grand Slam may not be the man he once was, but he can still deliver those crisp, sharp moves we remember him for!

 

Riley: Sure, but he can only do one or two at a time before he blows up!

 

Breathing heavy, Grand Slam gets back to his feet, dragging Ced up with him and right into another front facelock! A handful of tights and a quick pull, and Grand Slam throws Ced through a classic vertical suplex! Seemingly running totally on adrenaline, Grand Slam pushes himself heavily to his feet once more and pulls a dazed Ced up in front of him. Grand Slam stands behind him, grabs a waistlock and throws Ced through yet another suplex, this one of the German variety! Stevens slams Ordonez down hard onto his neck and back and bridges for the pin!!

 

Riley: No way Comet! there's no way he can pull this off!

 

Comet: Don't underestimate the Heavy Hitter Robert! He's overcome great odds in his time!

 

The ref falls to the mat!

 

1...

 

2 ..NO! Grand Slam couldn't hold the bridge and falls to his side, both hands crossed on his abdomen! Ced crumples to the mat next to him, trying to shake the cobwebs out. Both men start to fight to their feet, but it suprises no one when Ced is vertical as Grand Slam gets to one knee! Ced, a determined look in his eye, adjusts his mask, then pulls Grand Slam into a front facelock! He slaps the Heavy Hitter on the back, trying to pull the much larger man down for a DDT, but Slammer shifts his weight and throws Ced over with a picture perfect Northern Lights Suplex! No bridge this time, just both men hitting the mat hard and staying there!

 

Comet: What impact! Grand Slam is on a roll!

 

Riley: I think Ced just got his bell rung! He looks dazed!

 

For the first time, Grand Slam is easily the first to his feet, much to the delight of the adoring crowd! They are going wild, and just for a second, Grand Slam seems overwhelmed by the adulation! Then he smiles and heads to the corner, slowly climbing up, inch by inch, to the top rope!

 

Riley: What the heck is he thinking Comet?

 

Comet: I might have an idea...

 

Grand Slam gets to the top rope and stands up straight , facing out to the crowd! They pour on the love, popping for him and the move like roll of bubble wrap in a cat factory!! Grand Slam has a huge smile on his face as he points out to the crowd then leaps backwards... flipping over...

 

Comet: Grand Slam's Signature Moonsault!!!

 

Then he comes crashing down... right onto Ced's knees!! Grand Slam bounces into the air and crashes down alongside his opponent, bent in half and grasping at his stomach!!

 

Comet: My God Robert! He had to rupture something!

 

Riley: It was a stupid risk Comet! Ced has as much to gain by winning this match as Grand Slam! There's no way he's just going to roll over!

 

With Grand Slam still on his side, Ced pulls himself to his feet and looks at Grand Slam. He shakes his head, clearing away the last of the cobwebs, then with another shake of the head as if to say "I must be crazy" he too climbs to the top rope! He faces out to the crowd, checks Grand Slam's position over his shoulder and leaps out into the void!!

 

Comet: Oh my!! The Fire Soul!

 

Ced rotates in mid air, getting in position to deliver the corkscrew senton and comes down... onto the empty mat!! Ced immediatly arches his back, trying to get away from the pain!

 

Riley: Grand Slam is a veteran, say what you will about him! He knew enough to roll out of the way of the Wizard's finisher!

 

Both men again are having trouble getting to their feet as this match takes a toll on their bodies. The ref starts the ten count as the crowd cheers both men to get up and keep this match going! As before, it is the younger and better conditioned Ced Ordonez that gets to his feet first. Wanting to put the finishing touch on this match, he stands at Grand Slam's feet and starts to wrap him up into a Nagata Lock!

 

Comet: Both men have given everything they have to this match, Robert!

 

Riley: True enough Comet. Ced is trying to put this match away once and for all with the Cross Lightning!!

 

Suddenly, Grand Slam comes to life! He kicks his feet, pulling one loose before Ced has the chance to lock in the hold! Ordonez is fighting to get the leg back and get control again, but Grand Slam's strength is too much! He kicks Ced away into the ropes!! The Dancing Fool bounces back, Grand Slam shifts his position enough to allow him to catch Ced's feet with a drop toe hold!! Ced falls to the mat face first! Grand Slam gathers all of his strength and pushes himself to his feet!

 

Ced isn't far behind and, seeing the Heavy Hitter on his feet in front of him, starts to throw hands at Grand Slam, trying to keep on the offensive! Grand Slam blocks his punches and throws out a hard toe kick into Ced's midsection, doubling the Bemani Cross Wizard over! The crowd can sense what is coming and starts to go crazy! Grand Slam pulls Ced into a standing head scissors and, huffing and puffing like a steam engine, he swings his right arm over his head in a circle!!

 

Riley: Oh no... I'm taking off my headset... ::thunk::

 

Comet: There's the signal!! That can only mean one thing!!!

 

Grand Slam hooks both of Ced's arms into a double underhook... jumps up and back... WHAM!!

 

Comet: WALK-OFF!! WALK-OFF!! WALK-OFF!!

 

Grand Slam rolls Ced over with his last burst of energy and falls on top of him!!

 

The ref falls to the mat...

 

1...

 

2...

 

The crowd is going nuts, flashbulbs popping left and right!!

 

3!!! Ced kicks out a millisecond too late, and the ref signals for the bell!!

 

** Ding ding ding **

 

"Born Bad" starts to play as the crowd cheers!

 

Comet: He wins it!! He wins it!! "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens wins the opening match tonight!

 

Riley (distant, as he puts his headset back on): Mother of mercy Comet! One of these days I'm not going to get that headset off in time and you're going to deafen me!!

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall... "GRAND SLAM" MARK STEVENS!!!

 

The crowd just goes insane, cheering and chanting "Grand Slam, Grand Slam"! In the ring, Grand Slam rolls off Ced as the younger man starts to stand, asking the ref what happened. When the ref explains to him it was indeed a three count, Ced kicks the bottom rope in frustration!

 

Riley: Ha! He seems to be frustrated! Now we'll see the real Ced Ordonez!!

 

Grand Slam is obviously exhausted as he pushes himself to his feet, then staggers back into the ropes barely able to keep his feet under him! Ced moves towards him and the crowd hushes, waiting to see what happens. Ordonez stands stock still for a second, then reaches out and grabs Grand Slam's arm, lifting it up above their heads in a gesture of victory!!

 

Comet: Yes, we do see the real Ced Ordonez!!

 

Riley: Blah blah blah... mutual respect... yadda yadda yadda... God how I loathe face versus face matches.

 

Smarkdown goes to commercial as the camera lingers on Grand Slam and Ced Ordonez, shaking hands, the crowd cheering like mad and taking pictures to preserve this moment forever!!

 

Fade...

 

END MATCH

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As we come back from commercial break, SWF Smarkdown's colorful compatriarts, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley, welcome back the TV viewers with all the flare for the dramatic that they can muster.

 

"Hello, and welcome back to the American West Arena in Phoenix, Arizona, loyal citizens--I, CYCLOOOOOOONE Comet, along-side, Robert Riley, am proud to bring to you--the premire show on television today, SWF Smarkdown!"

 

"I, on the other hand, am none too proud of it..." mumbles Riley, clearly in a sour mood. "I mean--come on, Comet--Toxxic opening the show was great, but it all went down hill from there."

 

"If you are referring to the man who spoke up for JUSTICE--who has answered the call and made it his mission to topple tyrany in the SWF. Well, to that I say, bravo, Johnny Dangerous."

 

Bobby shakes his head in disgust and continues, as if Comet hadn't spoken at all. "I mean really, Johnny Dangerous?" adds Riley incredulously. "He, of all people, had to interrupt, Toxxic, and get one over, verbally, on the world champ?! It threw my equilibrium totally out of whack... and next thing you know, you'll be outwitting me!"

 

"Indeed, Robert," humors Comet.

 

"Indeed, indeed, Comet!"

 

"Because that doesn't happen on a regular basis--now does it..."

 

"Damn right, it doesn't!"

 

Comet raises a single eyebrow and ponders on just what would happen if he said 'indeed' again. Eh, why not find out? "Indeed..."

 

"Indeed, indeed... err, Comet..." responds Riley, who's face goes from cheery to quizical to stupified, mid-sentence in five seconds flat. Thus confirming his status as an automamaton, to Comet, since his facial expression didn't change. That or, an evil Ron Burgondy.

 

"Right-ho, well citizens', we had a great opening match-up and this four-way elimination match will be sure to impress. Any one of these four competitors could pick up a win here tonight and get back on track!"

 

"I think getting back ON the wagon would be more appropo with certain competitors in this match."

 

After that witty repartee, Funyon clears his throat and intros the match. "The following contest is a Four man, three-phase Elimination match!"

 

"I'm an Ouuuuut-law!"

 

The house lights have already dropped, and the vocals have already hit, causing the crowd to stand up and cheer, while the low key, but upbeat "Lapdance" by N.E.R.D. blares throughout the arena.

 

"Speak of the drunk--I mean devil, eh Comet." adds a chortelling, Bobby Riley.

 

Brillant strobes of white, yellow, blue and red, flash about the arena, bathing the standing crowd in a mutli-colored hue in time with the beat...

 

"Quick on the draw -- Quick on the draw...

Something you never seen before -- never seen..."

 

And as N.E.R.D’S ‘Lap-dance’ continues, it draws Ryan Dustin center-stage, spotlight shinning, as he faces the crowd - arms folded across his chest - while in a casual lean; his red cameo jacket fluttering from an unknown undercurrent.

 

"And I dare a muthafucker to come in my face!"

 

"Introducing first," continues Funyon, after a short pause. After a pause, Dustin makes his way to the ring, interacting with various fans by placing them in his 'picture frame'. "Making his way to ringside—from Carson City, Nevada, weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty-eight pounds, he is the Real Deal... RYAN DUSSSS-TIN!" announces Funyon, while Dustin slaps hands with a few fans.

 

"Indeed, Bobby." says Comet with a laugh, as Riley shuts his mouth.

 

Ryan reaches the ring, climbing up the outside of the turnbuckle, he poses once again, sizing up a few members of the crowd on the opposite side of the ring, by placing his hands in the form of a 'picture frame' again. As if waiting for a cue, Ryan turns to the near side crowd, nodding his head to the beat...

 

"It's so real!

How I feel!"

 

...before backflipping into the ring, giving the fans a little flourish for their buck. The crowd responds to that with a sizable pop, as Ryan disgardes his jacket and glasses, then stands at the ready in his corner, as his music fades into the background.

 

"Citizen Dustin looking to get back on track here with a win. After losing the Hardcore title, Dustin has gone into a tailspin and needs to straighten up and fly right, in the desert heat, if he wants to move back up the card and into title contention."

 

"And his opponent!" bellows Funyon.

 

Around the arena the lights drop out, leaving everyone shrouded in complete and total darkness. After a few moments of silence, an ominous voice bellows from the rafters as the SmarkTron slowly fades to life, showing a large crag of mountain that seems larger than life...

 

"An overwhelming symbol of power..."

 

...the voice fades away as the opening notes of "Darkest Omen" cascade over the crowd, two large spotlights hit the entrance ramp, showing a large figure standing tall and looking out over the arena. The music continues and the man steps from the shadows, revealing himself to be none other than Edward James. With an intense look frozen in his eyes, Edward walks to the ring, his every step met with the mix of slow, classical tones and cymbal crashes of his music...

 

"Making his way to ringside--from Redwater, Alberta, Canada, weighing in tonight at two hundred and seventy-six pounds, he is a member of the Wayward Sons'... EDWARD JAAAAAAAMESSSSSS!"

 

The crowd cheers the rookie as he climbs the ring steps, turning to face them as he reaches the apron. He raises one fist slow and delibrately, holding it high in the air for a moment before turning back and climbing into the ring, his motions like a caged lion - as he paces in wait. Dustin raises an eyebrow and stares at the pacing big man, looking him up and down for a weakeness.

 

"Citizen Dustin studying his opponent and it seems he doesn't like what he sees. Edward James of the Wayward Sons', is with out a doubt, one of the strongest competitors in the SWF today."

 

"Plus, the damn boy scout is about as twitchy as a ferret, and while I'm sure that Ebony can appreciate THAT sentiment, even Dustin with his beer goggles can see that this guys' got some power."

 

"And their opponent," continues Funyon.

 

“Back To Earth” by Ozzy Osbourne begins to play, bringing David Cross out from the back and onto the stage. Cross stares out into the arena and absorbs their applause, while slowly striding towards the ring...

 

BOOM!

 

A small burst of pyro goes off behind him, just as he approaches the head of the ramp, garnering a cheer from the Phoenix faithful in attendence!

 

"Making his way to the ring--from Oil City, Pennsylvania, weighing in tonight at two hundred seventy-seven pounds... DAVID CROSSSSSSSS!"

 

Cross slaps hands with the fans absentmindedly as he makes his way to the ring, and then rolls under the bottom rope, barely acknowledging Dustin's hand signal or James' pacing. David removes his leather jacket and hands it to a ring attendant, then removes his ever-present cross and hangs it over the edge of a ringpost as his music fades out.

 

"David Cross is another of the promising SWF rookies in this contest, so we'll get to see what he's got, tonight citizens'."

 

"Out of all these guys, David Cross is the guy I can get behind. He tossed around Birdman last week, which is always a welcome occurence and he's none to pleased to see Ryan Dustin taunting him with that picture frame thing."

 

"And finally," shouts Funyon.

 

'Go To' California kicks up and the metal beats by Rob Zombie cause the crowd to rise from their seats, yet again! The big man, Nathan Xavier and his wife, slash, ring-escort, come through the curtain and walk down the ramp, side by side.

 

"Making his way to the ring--accompanied by Sasha Edwards--from Santa Clara, California, weighing in tonight at three hundred and twenty-six pounds... NATHAN XAAAAAAV--IER!"

 

Xavier climbs the ring steps and steps into the squared circle, his wife taking her normal place on the outside of the ring. Comet notes Dustin looking on, as the big man flexes his muscles. And he notices the change in Dustin's facial features, as he realizes just how much bigger everyone else in the ring is.

 

"Now that we have all four competitors in ring, the rules to this match are simple. It begins as a standard Elimination match--count-out and DQ's in effect--and after a wrestler is eliminated, one rule is--well eliminated also. First count-outs and then disqualifications, allowing the final two to battle it out with no rules."

 

Each man stands at the ready in one of the four corners, waiting as Long motions his hand quickly three times towards the time-keeper...

 

DING--DING--DING!

 

"And this interesting match is underway!" notes Comet, as all four competitors warily edge their way out of their respective corners. Eddie James fires off a quick shot to the face of Xavier, knocking him down and taking Dustin's apparently 'smug' look from earlier to heart, goes after him next, while Cross stands his ground mid-ring, not yet making a move. James swings wildly at the head of the Real Deal, who in turn ducks quicker than a turtle into its' shell and pops up face to face with the Wayward Son! Dustin lands two quick forearms to the face of James, before he can react and take another overhand swing! As Nathan stands back up, Dustin squats again, just in a nick of time and lands a toe kick to the gut of the hulking Eddie J, hunching him over. Ryan hooks on a front facelock, while spying the charging Xavier out of the corner of his eye. The Real Deal smoothly strides towards the solem looking Cross and jumps into the air, kicking off David's chest -- sending him to the ground -- spinning towards Nathan and doing the same off his face, all the while, pulling James down to the mat, in a DDT, getting the crowd into this fast and furious start, showing no signs of stopping! Because the Real Deal doesn't live his life a quarter mile at a time...

 

"The Real Deal is on the attack with a Cyclone DDT! He has good taste in moves!" says Comet, as Dustin pops up to his feet, clearly looking to continue his assault. "But not good taste in move names." cracks Riley, while Cross attempts to stand back up, but Ryan is too quick and links hands with David, pulling him up to his feet, while Dustin runs the turnbuckle pads for an arm drag. Xavier stands while rubbing his jaw, and Ryan takes advantage, leaping off the top turnbuckle, lacing his legs around Nathan's head, sending David to the mat and Xavier skittering across the ring!!

 

"By Green Giants goatie, Robert!" hollers Comet, popping up out of his chair, in elation, as the crowd lets loose another cheer. "Ryan Dustin is on a tear right now, catching both citizens' Cross and Xavier with an arm drag-headscissors combo, that leaves the Real Deal standing tall in a land of giants!"

 

"You're acting more like a rookie commentator than an established announcer, Comet. Looking or should I say, sounding, a little green in the gills. You should know by now that Dustin will mess this up."

 

"Well Robert, your voice has that effect on people." mentions Comet, in a matter-o-fact way, before continuing his praise of the Real Deal. "He's realized that he's mobile and his opponents are slow. And citizen Dustin is using that to his advantage. All their power moves can't hurt him if he strikes fast enough!"

 

Dustin gets up, searching for his next adversary and finds David Cross pushing himself up to his feet. On the other side of the ring, Xavier is beggining to get to his feet, still clearly dizzy and Eddie J has gotten to his knees, clutching at his neck briefly. Ryan rages forward, hopping onto the chest of Cross in a Lou Thez press! Cross staggers, but doesn't fall, while the Real Deal pounds away with punches to the face... until David decides he's had enough; spins, hoists, and implants Ryan's spine into the canvas!

 

"He may strike fast enough, but it damn sure wasn't hard enough, eh Comet?" notes a jovial Riley, while Cross pops back up to his feet, shaking out the cobwebs. Dave looks down and sees Ryan attempting to sit up, so rather than cover him, Cross pulls Dustin up to his feet, albeit hunched over.

 

Meanwhile, Eddie J stumbles up to his feet and directly into a Xavier spinebuster, shaking the ring with its impact! Xavier himself, pops up to his feet and lets out a roar of aggression to a pop, while Cross leads the Real Deal by the hair and assists him out of the ring--

 

Clang!

 

--And by that I mean, Ryan gets tossed over the frickin' corner and to the outside, falling face first onto the damn steel steps!! Members of the crowd in the front row rise to their feet to look at the downed Real Deal, as Riley and Comet look on, eyes wide.

 

"Woah! Now that's a mean streak, Comet!" notes Riley, as Dustin slides down the steps face first and lands in a heap, on the outside. Eddy Long grimaces, momentarily forgetting count-outs are in effect for this fall, as Bobby continues to speak. "And did you see that spinebuster to the boy scout by Xavier! I mean, damn!"

 

"Citizen Dustin is in a world of trouble on the outside while Eddie J was just laid to waste... what will happen when Cross and Xavier come face to face, Robert?" questions Comet, not quite sure he WANTS to see what will occur... but Bobby Riley is.

 

"Ask and you shall receive, Comet, m'boy." responds Riley, as Xavier whips around and Cross slowly turns to face him, causing the crowd to rise in anticipation! They don't know either of these guys really well, but damnit, they just saw them kick some serious ass, so all that's forgotten in the heat of the moment! "Ask and you shall receive..."

 

Xavier and Cross stare each other down, Xavier nodding his head like a maniac, while Cross stays stoic. And then it happens. Cross lands a forearm to the chin of Xavier, who brings the action right back to him with a heavy right-hand! Eddy Long looks back and forth between the battle in the ring and Ryan Dustin, who still hasn't moved yet... and finally remembers to start a count.

 

"ONE!"

 

Dustin does not move. At all.

 

"TWO!"

 

Eddy Long looks back to the ring and sees Xavier and Cross trading right-hands and forearms, while the crowd cheers them on. David blocks a right-hand and nails the bigger, Xavier, with a forearm and another and another to the face of his opponent!

 

"THREE!"

 

"Hey Comet, Dustin isn't moving. He's not going to make it back!"

 

Ryan still hasn't moved. James is still laying on the mat. And Eddy Long looks back and forth, prepping for another count. Cross, finally having taken control grabs Xavier by the arm for a short arm lariat, but Nathan, the stronger of the two, takes the advantage, driving a knee directly into the gut of his opponent.

 

Ignoring Riley, Comet continues to call the action. "Citizen Xavier back in the drivers seat, after that blow to the gut."

 

"FOUR!"

 

Hunched over and in pain, Cross takes ONE debilatating forearm to the lower back, sending him to a knee! Xavier rears back and pounds away again.

 

"I'm telling you! Dustin hasn't moved an inch since he hit those steps!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

Xavier continues to overpower David Cross with punishing blow after punishing blow to the lower lumbar, finally sending him down to the canvas... not noticing Ryan moving for the first time since he ate steel.... or Eddie J. struggling to a knee...

 

"SIIIIIIIX!"

 

The crowd finally begins to realize that Dustin might just be counted out, willing on the SWF superstar, as he crawls on his belly, barely making any progress. Comet notices too. "Robert--he may not make it back in..."

 

"I've been saying that all along, Comet!"

 

"SEEEEEEVEN!"

 

 

But Dustin won't quit. He can't quit tonight. So he makes a move. Grasping the apron.

 

 

"EIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

 

 

 

Pulling on the ring ropes.

 

 

 

"NINEEEEEEEEE!"

 

 

 

 

 

Oh so, close... but...

 

 

 

 

 

"TEEEEEEEEEEEE--"

 

At the last second Dustin slides his body back into the ring! "He made it, Robert! Citizen Dustin showed some true will power there!" The audience lets loose a relieved cheer upon his return and returns to the brutally stiff action, already taking place. But that brutally stiff action is interrupted by Eddie J coming back into the picture and driving Xavier to the mat with a DDT!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

TH--No! Only a two count! Ryan Dustin has finally made it to his feet and Eddie James continues on his offensive run, blasting him with a right hand to the face. James whips Dustin off the ropes and on his return pushes him up high over head in a back body drop! And as Nathan Xavier rises to his feet and is surprised by the flying form of Ryan Dustin flipping head over heels, landing on the six foot eight mans' shoulders!! Xavier couldn't have been more lucky, as he preps to hit a powerbomb...

 

 

 

...but the Real Deal arches back with as much force as he can muster and flips Xavier over in a hurricanrana!! Dustin reaches back, catching one of the bigger mans legs shaking back and forth, while Xavier attempts to kick out, his wife banging on the apron!!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOO!

 

 

Xavier pushes Dustin, sending him sprawling to the canvas. Nathan realizing he was almost eliminated, takes a powder, rolling to the outside near his wife. Eddie James, now that he and Dustin are the only two in the ring, grabs Dustin by the arm and tosses him off the ropes in an Irish whip, yet again! Ryan using the extra momentum lunges forward in a crossbody, but Eddie J catches Ryan's crossbody, and sends him spiralling into the Catatonic!! He covers...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR--No! Dustin pushes a shoulder up off the canvas! Eddie J., upset he didn't get the pin stands and looks to the ref and complains and in that moment, David Cross comes back into the picture, yanking him by the arm to turn him around and BLASTS him with a menacing short arm lariat!

 

"Oh what a LARIATOOOOO!" shouts Riley, as Cross pulls the hurting James up to his feet and into the Black Mass!

 

 

 

“OONNNEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWWWWOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

"Edward James has been eliminated along with the count out stipulation!" notes Funyon, as the crowd lets loose a cheer.

 

Xavier slides back into the ring and he and Cross go at it with Xavier ducking under a punch and hitting the STO! He then goes after Ryan and whips him into the corner, but Ryan leaps up onto the second turnbuckle pad, stopping his own momentum and flings himself backward, turning in mid-air with his leg extended! Xavier can't stop his own momentum and barrels forward, getting clocked in the face with a springboard leaping side kick!

 

"Ryan Dustin rallying here! Citizen Dustin picks Xavier up to his feet and sends him away in a cross corner whip--no, reversal by Xavier--and he barrels in--by the glorious movie candy named snowcaps! What an Avalanche by Nathan Xavier!"

 

Xavier grabs Dustin and pulls him out to the center of the ring and raises a hand in the air, before setting up Ryan for his Hangman's DDT! But out of nowhere, David Cross explodes into the picture, forcing Xavier to eat a Yakuza kick!! The Real Deal, nearly out on his feet has the wherwithal to grab Xavier's leg and flip foward in a jack-knife pin, the crowd counting along, while Cross watches the scene!!

 

 

“OONNNEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWWWWOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

"Nathan Xavier has been eliminated along with the No DQ stipulation!" notes Funyon, as the crowd lets loose a cheer.

 

Cross knows he has the match as he stalks Dustin, but the Real Deal shoots up out of nowhere and...

 

Crack!

 

...Hits the Done Deal!! The crowd explodes as Dustin nearly crumples back to the canvas, trying to regain his bearings, while Cross blinks continuously on the mat, nearly down and out! Ryan's balance waviers though, and the Real Deal tumbles to the mat... headbutting Cross square in the balls!!

 

Both men are down, trying to recover, as the crowd gets behind Dustin, cheering him to his feet. Cross is still hurting from the shot to the nuts and Dustin goes back to what he knows, lifting David and dropping him to the canvas in a Teardrop Suplex!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE--NO! Ryan, now unsure of himself, goes to what he knows again. Strikes and Suplexes! He lifts Cross up quickly, backing him up with a shotei to the jaw and trying to put him down with another one of his deadly suplexes. The Sambo suplex, but Cross won't die yet, firing off elbows that shake Dustin. David breaks free and sends a toe kick into the stomach of his opponent, following it up with a nasty high knee, and finishing off the combo with a crescent kick to the mouth!!

 

"Ryan Dustin is dead in the water, Comet! He's got nothing left! NOTHING!" says Riley. "He hasn't got a prayer!"

 

But Ryan ducks the short arm lariat and hooks the arm, leaping onto Cross' shoulders and scisscoring his other one and shaking with all he's got, finally pulling David down into a flying crucifix pin!!

 

 

“OONNNEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

“Well my prayers have been answered, Riley!"

 

 

 

 

“TWWWWOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

 

“Come on—come on!”

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

"Damnit!" shouts Comet, surprising Riley by cursing. Cross kicks out and gets irate knowing he almost lost. He picks up the near done Dustin and hits him with two short arm lariats, the second worse than the first! And then he lifts him into the Black Mass, but Dustin flips through into a 'Bona-fide Thiller' and a jack-knife!

 

 

“OONNNEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

“Will Dustin win with the same jack-knife that got him the pinfall earlier!"

 

 

 

 

“TWWWWOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

“Come on-come on!”

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

Cross gets up and goes for a Yakuza kick, but it's ducked and Ryan hits a toe kick into struggling Blonde Moment!!! Dustin slowly goes up top and dives off in a StarDustin press on Cross!!!

 

 

 

 

“OONNNEEEE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“TWWWWOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

"The winner of this match, RYAN DUSTIN!"

 

And it's over. Ryan Dustin pulls out the win as we go to commerical break!

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Backstage in Chris Card Enterprise HQ, it's another night of rest and relaxation for Chris Card and Natasha. Yes...there's a wrestling event going on, but you wouldn't know it. Card and Natasha are busy snuggling up on the sofa and exchanging the odd random laugh every now and then, like people in love annoyingly do. Quite why there's a cameraman recording all this is not evident. The again, it never is. Card and Natasha don't seem bothered anyway and continue on with ther lovefest...until that is the door bursts open and Landon Maddix storms into the room, past Card and Natasha, before hurling his kitbag angrily against the wall.

 

"Evening..." sighs Card as Natasha tries to act naturally.

 

"Oh, evening Chris." Maddix immediately snaps back as Megan meekly enters the room. "Don't bother asking me how I am because I'm sure you already know the answer. And hey...don't stop on my accord. You might as well screw her because you've already screwed me!"

 

"Landon...calm down." Megan pleads, only to get a glaring look.

 

"Calm down? Calm DOWN!?!"

 

Card sighs once more, turning his head towards Maddix who is positively fuming and scanning the room for something to throw, but finds nothing and decides instead to give his kitbag a swift kick.

 

"I said I was sorry..."

 

"SORRY!?!"

 

"Lando..."

 

"No, Chris. There's nothing you can do or say to make this better so don't even bother. Sorry isn't gonna cut it this time! I mean for Todd's sake Chris! You've, for some reason, went to Zenon and not only asked...not only requested...but DEMANDED that my match with Ace Lezaire is a Submissions Match. Do you not watch any of my matches Chris? Read my lips...I am NOT..." Maddix pauses and mouths the last word again for posterity. "...a submission wrestler. It's not my style. I don't keep up with the latest UFC holds or Puro locks and even if I did, I wouldn't be able to utilise them to any real effect because I am NOT a submission wrestler."

 

Card attempts to say something, but gets cut off...

 

"Why Chris? Why? You could have gotten me in a Ladder Match, No Gravity Match...a freaking Pie Match! I KNOW how to win those. I don't know how to win Submission Matches because I am NOT a submission wrestler. I hate to keep repeating it and I hate to keep finding fault in myself because, quite frankly, it doesn't matter. Usually. Only now it does. Because I'm in a..."

 

"Submissions Match." Card interrupts. "I know."

 

With his head down, Card looks apologetic but that clearly doesn't wash with Maddix who turns and gives his bag another hefty boot...possibly imagining it as Card's head.

 

"Look, Landon, I made a mistake...Ok? I thought that a Submissions Match would be something that...I dunno...would be good for you."

 

"GOOD for me!?!"

 

"Yes. Look at things logically Landon. Flesher is a good submissions wrestler. The number one contenders match at Ground Zero was a Submissions Match. It's all a matter of...erm...of progression! And it's not all bad. The title isn't on the line..."

 

Maddix has heard enough...opening the door to his en-suite bathroom and beginning to enter, before turning back and kicking his bag once more. The door eventually slams behind Landon, as Card and Natasha exchange worried looks as Megan looks on suspiciously...

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It’s SWF Smarkdown and it is live!! The crowd has gone wild hundreds of times, they’ve shown their most creative signs… and now, they are about to be entertained to there fullest. With a team of 12 Kung Fu fighting midgets! In the ring, an all out battle royal goes on as the midgets kick the crap out of each other. Finally, a midget who looks strikingly similar to Toxxic, can be seen eating a Defenestration from a mini Dace Night. The crowd roars for that, but they don’t get to see much more as the lights go out… and magically… those midgets disappear. In return, are the voices of our commentators this evening, Comet and Riley.

 

Comet: “Welcome back to Smarkdown my good citizens! I am THE CYCLONE COMET and to my right, is no my BUTT is not too tight Citizen Riley.”

 

Riley: “Thank you my vomit inducing companion. Speaking of vomit, how bout this card. The guy who did this was smoking hella CRACK!!”

 

Comet: “Rumor has it our booker was friends with retired superstar TNT.”

 

Riley: “Our booker is Frost? Well that explains…”

 

Comet: “It’s not Frost. So it was probably some jobber who nobody cares about.”

 

Riley: “Yeah. TNT sucks! Go Denver Broncos!!”

 

Comet: “We’re in Phoenix.”

 

Riley: “I stand by my claim.”

 

The bickering ends as the song “China Girl” by David Bowie plays over the speakers. The audience familiar enough with the tune, let down their rain of boos, as the negative vibrations flood the arena before she even arrives. Candace steps through the curtains, with only Frisco by her side, it doesn’t help her reaction, as the crowd continues to jeer her on. Frisco shakes his head as he snarls at the crowd, leading his protégé to the ring.

 

Funyon: “The following contest is a special HARDCORE RULES match! Introducing first…she hails from Okinawa, Japan! She stands at Five feet Four inches and weighs in at 121 pounds!”

 

Frisco enters the ring while she remains on the outside. Stealing a cue from Flesher, Frisco hands a cuecard over to Funyon. Taking a moment to read it, before continuing, Funyon only has time to roll his eyes as Frisco turns his attention back to his fighting lady.

 

Funyon: “She is Japan’s reigning Light Heavyweight Hero! She is Dragon Okimurra!!”

 

Upon announcement, Candace enters the ring, although absorbed by her manager, she is covered from head to toe with taunts & boos from all round the arena. Frisco reaches for the mic from Funyon.

 

Comet: “Oh Great. We get to hear him one more time.”

 

Riley: “I find this guy fairly likeable. Especially after that victory with Xavier. But he must have pissed somebody off… cause I don’t know NOBODY, and I mean NOBODY who will go one on one with JD and hardcore. That boy and his hardcore is like Popeye and his Spinach, it’s just a lethal combination.”

 

Frisco: “It’s not often I get a chance to speak here. So I’ll make this nice and long for you all.”

 

The crowd boos as the arrogant manager continues to get on their nerves.

 

Frisco: “I demand to get this off my chest, and I won’t rest until…-“

 

But he is cut off.

 

“Time to shut up bitch! For this will always be…

 

MAH

 

 

FUCKING

 

 

HOUSE!!”

 

The arena dims down to solid darkness. The cue of Drazon’s voice sends off the beginning metal of his theme music, Marilyn Manson's "Dope Hat" which cranks the speakers to a loud ovation. As the last few moments in time sink into the rest, Drazon walks through the curtains once more receiving a strong reaction from the Phoenix crowd.

 

Comet: “There he is! The man scored a key victory over John Duran last week on Lockdown, in a match that almost never happened! He might also be setting the bar with hardcore once more tonight!”

 

Riley: “Ah yes. The maniac lives, but he is facing one hungry bitch! Whether it’s his battle or not, that young Dragon heart there in the ring is determined to prove herself, and what better way then to take out the hardcore maniac in his own freaking game!”

 

As he observes the crowd from the top of the ramp, he takes a moment to observe his prey in the ring. Inhaling the aromas, developing a scent for his newfound opponent for the evening. A grin occupies his face as he finally walks down the isle and to the ring.

 

Funyon: “And her opponent! 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!!”

 

Drazon rolls into the ring upon announcement, popping to his feet quickly as his two adversaries stand outside. Drazon twists his hips and back in reverse directions, popping into place. He follows with a crack of his neck and some shadow punches before acknowledging to the ref that he is ready.

 

Comet: “We’re about to see a battle of strength and experience, battle speed and youthful determination!”

 

Riley: “Rather nice way of putting it.”

 

Candace rolls inside the ring, her outfit revealingly skimpy. Drazon doesn’t notice, however he does spot her odd keenness for wrestling barefoot. The ref wants to explain the rules, but instead lets the competitors know that there are none. He then calls for the bell, which receives applause as the battle is now underway.

 

Riley: “One thing’s for certain, male or female, JD won’t show much sympathy.”

 

Comet: “Well, this is the fellow who powerbombed Ash Craven’s pregnant girlfriend onto the arena floor. Not to mention had a blood feud with Annie Eclectic on multiple occasions. No sirree… females are in just as much danger as any guy… especially if she can fight back.”

 

Riley: “So the Dragon better take it to him, but don’t expect any special favors. Frisco best have an ace in his hole.”

 

Drazon takes two aggressive steps forward, before getting into a stance and holds his arm out. He motions for Candace to come forward. Hesitant with her confident opponent, Candace creeps in with a step, before lunging forward with a left jab. A standard Shotokan block sends the blow aside, as Drazon reaches for the young lady. Showing she’s no slouch in combat, the Dragon swings her legs low with a sweep kick. Drazon leaps a foot in the air, avoiding the kick before landing gently on his toes. Flipping over to a crouching feline stance, Candace reaches her arm straight for Drazon’s leg. Tempted to blast her in the face with a kick, Drazon opts to instead avoid the attack by removing his leg.

 

Comet: “Citizen Candace is going for Drazon’s legs early, that may be a foolish maneuver!”

 

Riley: “Not if you can take away his kicks! All of Drazon’s power comes from his hips and legs!”

 

Comet: “Which may make it a very hard defense to break!”

 

A slightly nastier side taking over, Candace flattens her right hand and jabs straight for Drazon’s eyes with a four finger strike.

 

-Except Drazon intercepts with his left, catching right over top of her wrist, and twists her thumb away from her elbow in a nasty wristlock. Wanting to holler in pain from Drazon’s snake like grip on her aching wrist, Dragon remains her verbal composure as her body wants to lower to the mat. Drazon swings his right arm into hers, but instead of striking, he joins arms at the elbows, while releasing his wristlock, he spins into her, firing out his left arm and cracks her in the face with an elbow. Stunned from the sudden strike, Candace stumbles back into the ropes. As she briefly bounces off Drazon fires her to the other side, only to follow towards her. As she bounces off, Drazon leaps high into the air, allowing her to pass under the leapfrog. He glides to other side with two steps, as she bounces off, he’s spun his side to her and hoists her up for a sidewalk slam-

 

-Only for her to wrap her ankles around his head, and hurl him over with a headscissors takedown. Drazon rolls through the move and straight to his feet, however he’s not vertical before Candace is. Flying like only a samurai Jap can, Candace throws out a flawless spinkick as she leaps in the air. Flawless except for the fact she misses her target by a mile. Drazon reaches out for her, however he’s unprepared for her sudden latching onto his wrist, Drazon struggles for freedom, but Candace is able to leverage the arm with a wrench.

 

Comet: “Well Candace has the upperhand at the moment, you could say!”

 

Riley: “Now all she has to do is kick him in the face!”

 

As if reading his mind, Candace squats briefly before firing her leg out with a kick to Drazon’s face. However Drazon avoids the hook kick, and reverses grip on her arm, pulling it in between her legs as she lands her other foot. As she doubles over, Drazon pulls hard North on her arm. This spreads her legs, but not in the way Drazon expects, as she leaps in the air. Her splitting hamstrings mere hairs away from Drazon’s face as she flips forward, breaking free of Drazon’s grip and safely landing on her feet.

 

Riley: “Whoa! That was athletic!”

 

Comet: “I think Drazon unintentionally helped her there!”

 

Impressed by her agility, JD has little time to react as fires out a left front kick. Except Drazon catches her leg, gripping tight, the registered maniac has delectable plans for his adversary-

 

CRACK

 

But is clobbered by an enziguri! The blast knocks Drazon around in a circle as he staggers about; Candace lunges for her fellow competitor. She leaps into the air, wrapping her thighs around Drazon’s neck tight with a headscissors, she snaps in reverse, hauling him over with a hurricanrana! The back of Drazon’s neck spikes into the mat on impact, and both his legs cradled by Dragon Okimurra.

 

Comet: “I have to hand it to Citizen Candace. She’s keeping herself safe by remaining in the ring here!”

 

Riley: “Agreed, if the battle takes outside, not much will save her from the onslaught of carnage. Although quickly putting JD down for the one, two, three can let her squeak by both alive and with the W.”

 

The count by the ref starts.

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

 

But the power of Drazon’s legs muscles her down to the mat. To slippery to remain still, Candace rolls to freedom. She’s upon her feet as Drazon remains in the seated position. With offense in her mind, she fires her leg out as she spins like a mini windmill with a buzzsaw kick.

 

CRACK-CLASP!!

 

Her ankle smacks into Drazon’s forearm as he blocks the blow and grips onto her leg with sadistic intent. The fans begin to cheer loud for Drazon as he tightly grips the speedy leg of Ms. Okimurra. Returning to his feet with her leg as his leverage, Drazon’s fierce eyes stare a hole into Candace. Unafraid by her intimidating opponent, she starts to swing her other leg, but Drazon promptly kicks her standing leg before another enziguri can be tried.

 

Comet: “Not many strikes fool JD twice!”

 

He retrieves her into his grip as he drapes an arm across her chest. With the leg firmly hooked, Drazon arches back, hurling Candace high over his head with a T-Bone suplex. Her impact into the mat folds her up like an accordion to a loud applause, as they continue cheering as her body unfolds. Drazon slices his thumb over his throat, the well-known Canadian signal for it being the time to end, then slaps his right thigh so the whole crowd knows what is coming. However the cheers turn to boos as Frisco makes his first set of presence known, sliding into the ring and pulling his moneymaker outside to safety… for the moment.

 

Comet: “Frisco butting his nose where it doesn’t belong, and this crowd ain’t happy about it!”

 

Riley: “Good! You know if this crowd doesn’t like it, he must be doing something right!”

 

Drazon wipes the sweat off his baldhead, cracking his wrists a bit as he debates to himself on how to continue. Finally a solution satisfies him, as he allows the grin to reach the public, before he slides outside of the ring on the other side. He reaches under the ring apron, and sure enough, there rests his sock filled with 3 pool cue balls. He holds the weapon up high for the crowd to see.

 

Comet: “Since I’m sure I can be sued for calling that Mr. Socko… How about Citizen Socko!!”

 

The audience cheers in approval for “Citizen Socko” as JD slides inside the ring. On the other end, Frisco gives JD some threatening comments, as he tries to hype Candace up to do more damage. The crowd directs their insults more toward the cowardly manager then the fighter, as she starts to regain her senses.

 

Riley: “Pfft! JD has the sock, yet they boo this guy! The hot weather must really melt their brains out here.”

 

Drazon slides outside the ring, face to face with Candace, Drazon holds out the weapon, spinning it around with an itch to swing. He instead grabs Candace by her tank top, yanking her past him; she puts up no fight as Drazon steps by her and after the manager. Realizing the world of shit that will be before him, Frisco does the smart thing, and books it. Not wanting him to get away, Drazon gives chase.

 

Comet: “Uh oh! Drazon doesn’t want Frisco to create anymore problems tonight!”

 

Riley: “That little shrimp better hope he can run!”

 

Making it around three corners, Drazon is with a meter’s reach of Frisco. Suddenly, from the opposite side of the steps that Frisco happens to be running to, Candace begins to make a low charge for them, keeping out of Drazon’s sight. Frisco leaps over the steps and past Candace as she drives both her feet into the top set with a dropkick… timed just as Drazon turns to face the flat side of them-

 

CRASHCLANG

 

And is driven into the guardrail by a flying set of steps! Drazon shoves the steps off of him but remains seated. His weapon out of reach, he instead opts to hold his hurting mid-section. Frisco quickly gets behind Candace’s back and gives her a pat on the shoulder for the set up.

 

Comet: “Why those sneaky little buggers!”

 

Riley: “Hey you know anything goes! I was praying Frisco would have a plan like that!”

 

Although no bruising is evident, Drazon slowly reaches up onto the guardrail, pulling himself up to his feet. He can spot Candace yanking away a steel chair and folding it up, but he can’t make a move towards her. Instead letting the body rest the shock away that he just absorbed. Candace thrusts forward with the folded chair in hand, where she opts to propel it ahead of her and aiming straight for JD. His reflexes allow him to catch the chair, but that is all, as she crashes into him and the chair by that time!

 

Clang!

 

Crushing the chair into his chest and taking both of them over the guardrail with the bodyblock! Drazon lies sprawled out on the floor, security guards keeping all the spectators away as Candace crawls towards him, making the cover.

 

One…

 

 

 

Two…

 

 

 

Th… but Drazon kicks out.

 

Comet: “IT will take a lot more then that, I’m sorry to say!”

 

Riley: “But let’s not pay, for she is on her way!”

 

Showing slight ounces of strength, Candace returns to her feet and assists her maniac competitor to his. She fires a fist into Drazon, he stumbles back to the guardrail. Packing her tiny fists of fury, she pops another two straight into JD, knocking his head back, but that’s all.

 

Riley: “I don’t think she can knock JD over that!”

 

Comet: “She just did two seconds ago!”

 

A little frustrated, Candace takes some steps back, the guards protecting her ass from getting slapped by many of the fans. Finally she hustles forward, thrusting out a clothesline as she aims it for JD-

 

-But JD ducks and launches her high over the railing and back into ringside with a back body drop! Landing in between the two sets of steps, Candace begins to sit up from her sudden fall.

 

Comet: “Drazon caught her and sent her for a ride!”

 

Rubbing his wounded upperbody, Drazon reaches down, grabbing the chair, which was attempted to be embedded into him, and throws it over the railing. He climbs over the railing himself and stalks his hurting prey. He holds the chair by it’s legs, the top pointing South. He stands over top of Candace, grinning as he has her previous weapon. Lifting the chair up, he jams it straight down, burying it right below the bitch’s tits. The crowd winces as Drazon tosses the chair into ringside, before placing his foot on her face, twisting it to the side, as he demands the ref to count.

 

Riley: “Hey! That’s not a legal pin!”

 

Comet: “It’s not a legal match, and the shoulders are down!”

 

One…

 

 

 

Two…

 

 

 

Thr… But she twists her shoulder up into the air. Drazon shrugs his shoulders, and drops his knee straight into her heart, before making another cover.

 

One…

 

 

Two…

 

 

 

Th… NO!! Candace kicks out once more. Although some cheer for her display of heart, the rest boo as they show little love for the young Dragon.

 

Comet: “Drazon never wants a battle like this to end! The more she fights, no matter how weak, the more she’ll earn Drazon’s respect.”

 

Riley: “Yay, respect from a booze drinking maniac. Impressive!”

 

Drazon fires a sharp glare to Riley, as if he heard the comments, which is quite plausible since he is only ten feet away. However nothing comes of it as Drazon turns his attention back to the Dragon. He reaches down, grabbing her by the hair, he pulls her up to her knees. However like a hooker, she reaches for the waist of JD’s pants and yanks him towards her… unlike a hooker, she pulls JD beyond her and into the ring apron! Stumbling forward, Drazon has little bracing as Mother Nature works against him, and cracks his jaw on the ring apron.

 

Comet: “Perfectly legal shortcut there!”

 

Riley: “She can be a nasty little bitch some times, can’t she.”

 

Comet: “I’d almost say Citizen Riles is turned on… almost.”

 

Drazon has little time to clutch his wounded jaw structure, as his leg is grapevined. Candace applies a headlock to JD as the two have their back to the ring apron. Showing how hardcore she can be, she shoves forward gently, before snapping Drazon’s legs away from him and brings him crashing into the ring apron with a Russian leg sweep. The two sit side to side, JD let’s his head hang forward from the impact, and Candace takes a moment to elbow him hard in the jaw. As JD slumps to the mat, Candace cradles his leg and makes the cover.

 

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO….

 

 

 

THR… Drazon gets a shoulder up.

 

The sweat beads dripping down her face, and strong amounts of exhaustion seeping in. Candace makes it to her feet, but struggles a heavy journey when she pulls JD to his. Finally heaving her larger foe to a vertical stance, she rolls him into the ring and proceeds to climb the ropes. As Drazon rolls towards the center of the ring, she makes it to the top rope. Pointing down at Drazon, she flashes some Japanese hand signal to a negative reaction as she leaps off the top rope. Soaring through the air like a swan, she turns her upper body over, directing it straight for Drazon’s chest!

 

CRASH

 

But he rolls out of the way! Candace bounces off the mat nearly a foot before she can even acknowledge what happened.

 

Comet: “Ouch! Dragon thought Drazon was down long enough to hit that! Maybe a rookie mistake as she took no insurance steps!”

 

Riley: “Yeah! She may have wanted to end it with that Swanton Bomb… but JD hasn’t eaten enough punishment to truly mess with his ring sense!”

 

The competitors are in a turtle race to their feet. JD is slightly ahead at the moment, as he struggles to regain his balance on one knee. Candace pulls herself to her hands and knees, knowing she has to get up ahead to win this battle, she pushes up with all her strength. Reaching her feet before her opponent, Candace spots the chair tossed in earlier. As JD has regained full balance, Candace snatches the chair from the ground and swings it for JD.

 

CRACK

 

However Drazon kicks the chair clean out of her hands. The chair slides to the corner, but Candace refuses defeat, pelting Drazon with a toe kick to the abdomen. Digesting the foot, Drazon is unable to prevent Candace from latching on a ¾ nelson facelock and leaping for the canvas beneath her feet. However Drazon grips onto her waist from both sides, hoisting her in the air even higher, and shoves her off, snapping her facelock grip in the process. For the second time in two minutes, Candace bounces off the canvas, however this time Drazon isn’t knocked silly.

 

Comet: “Candace is fighting, we give her that! However Drazon is going to get tougher and tougher as the match continues!”

 

Riley: “Why!?”

 

Comet: “Because she’s going to have to come up with new stuff that will physically outsmart JD…The longer the battle, the harder it is to think.”

 

Riley: “Whoa whoa here… you’re not saying Drazon can think… Are you?”

 

Comet: “Nah… but fighting this is what JD does, it’s instinct for him!”

 

Riley: “Fair enough, you can have that one.”

 

Drazon’s right leg trembles, as he clutches his fists. Twisting his hip slowly away from Dragon as she rises to her feet, Drazon nastily snaps forward, propelling his right leg out with whipping force…

 

CRRRRRAAACK!!!

 

Candace flies in the air, spinning a full 360 from a vicious Thai Roundhouse kick. Driblets of blood shoot from her mouth as she drops to the mat, her eyes glazed over as Drazon drops down to his knees. The chair beside him, he tosses it to the center of the ring and makes the cover.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

THRE…NO!! Candace gets a shoulder up! Drazon growls in anger as he looks down into the eyes of his dropped opponent, her jaw already starting to swell from the impact.

 

Comet: “Whoa! The youngster is tough, kicking out of that Thai Roundhouse kick of Drazon’s is no easy task!”

 

Riley: “Drazon got full swing on that one too, he drew blood!”

 

The audience is in disbelief as Candace kicks out. Drazon yanks her up to her feet, he points down to the chair, which prompts many fans to cheer for a finish. Draping his head under her shoulder and hooking onto her leg, Drazon starts to lift. However life fills Candace, and she spins free over top of Drazon’s back. She facelocks his head with her other arm and cradles his leg as she rolls him inward with a small package!”

 

Comet: “No! Not like this!”

 

Riley: “Yes! Like this!!”

 

ONE…

 

Frisco is pounding the mat on the outside in support.

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

The manager on the outside shoots his arms up in victory as the crowd gasps…

 

 

 

 

THREENOOOO!!!

 

Drazon slips free, but he doesn’t notice Candace slip a tablet into her mouth.

 

Comet: “Uh oh! I think I know what Citizen Dragon is up to!”

 

Riley: “She is hardcore!”

 

Drazon grabs the chair from the center of the ring, picking it up and slamming it into the ground, before letting the crowd have full knowledge on which he intends to use it on. However as Candace rises to her feet, Drazon notices an extra dribble from her mouth. Seeing blood thousands of times, Drazon recognizes the color is foreign to that. Candace shoots forward, her lips as the weapons as she sprays out a gigantic purple mist… and covers the steel chair with it!

 

Comet: “She missed! Drazon moved!!”

 

Riley: “Holy crap, looks at all the color of that chair!”

 

Angered that her tactic didn’t work, Candace lunges forward, thrusting out a standing yakuza kick-

 

-But Drazon kicks her in the hamstring, sending her in the opposite direction! He winds up the chair as she completes the circle, and with a swing that would make McGuire stand in envy-

 

CRACK

 

Plants her in the face with the misted ended of the steel chair! As she drops to the floor, only her subconscious can be in rage at being hit with her own mist, and not in the most favorable way. Frisco is immediately on the apron and giving hell to the ref. Drazon shrugs his shoulders and steps toward him. The American continues to shout, unaware Drazon is swinging the chair straight for him. Upon realizing the chair, Frisco defensively releases the top rope and drops to the floor…

 

CRACK

 

However not fast enough as Drazon connects before his feet leave the apron, and painfully knocks him into the guardrail! Frisco lies still with trickles of blood pouring out of his forehead. Drazon sadistically grins before turning around and walking towards the fallen Candace. Dropping the chair, he grabs the top of his skull with both hands, squeezing down as his eyes open wide. The beaming blue sends menacing images down many, as Drazon grabs a handful of the raven locks, yanking her into a standing headscissors over the chair.

 

Comet: “Oh dear lord! Drazon has just flattened Citizen Crisco, and it looks like it’s going to be the beginning of the end for Dragon!”

 

Riley: “Come on purple lips, let’s see you get out!”

 

All of the audience captures Drazon’s sadistic look as he effortlessly hoists her into the air, leaping up high before jackhammering her head into the steel chair-

 

CLAAAAAAAAAAANGCRAAAAAAAASH!!

 

WITH A NASTY SPIKE PILEDRIVER!!!

 

Wanting her body to bounce in recoil, the steel is not quite so forgiving, as her body crumbles over top of Drazon’s lap. He pushes her to his side and hooks the leg for the cover.

 

 

ONE

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEE!!!

 

The bell rings as Manson’s ‘Dope Hat’ hits the speakers. Drazon rises to his feet as the ref holds his hand in victory. The audience cheers as Drazon stands victorious in this hardcore bout, some of the more church going people may have been offended, but they don’t matter.

 

Funyon: “The winner of this match via pinfall! JAMIE DRAZON!!!”

 

Drazon holds his hands in victory before sliding out of the ring.

 

Comet: “A hard fought victory for Jamie Drazon, but a victory nonetheless!”

 

Riley: “Well don’t expect Drazon to be able to pull that off constantly! I don’t care who’s house he thinks it is!”

 

Comet: “Very well there Riley… however we have run out of time. Folks stay tuned, as we will be back after these messages from Starburst.

 

Riley: “Starnuts!”

 

Commercial.

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

 

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

 

“Yes indeed, and it’ll be even better once we get Tom Flesher out here instead of some of these other hacks.” Riley states flatly, lounging back in his chair and looking thoroughly bored as he waits for the next match to start.

 

“Strong words there Citizen Riley but you do the other good Citizens on our roster an injustice!!”

 

“Indeed I do Comet so I shall partially retract that last statement as I’m eagerly awaiting the soon to be deceased Vlad Everheart to make his way to the ring.” Riley sneers.

 

“Now then Robert, Citizen Everheart earned his title shot fair and square!” Comet replies confidently.

 

“And tonight he’ll get beaten to a pulp fair and square as well. He got lucky against Manson last time Comet and everyone here knows that.” Riley says with a smirk.

 

“Perhaps it was luck Robert but…”

 

“There are no buts in this Comet! He got lucky and tonight Manson is going to make sure that lucky streak comes to an abrupt end!”

 

Comet’s reply is drowned out as the arena lights suddenly change from blazing brightness into a maelstrom of dark blue lights, some remaining fully on while others strobe, bathing the arena in a deep blue gloom. Dimmu Borgir’s “Mourning Palace” hits the speakers as a huge cloud of smoke belches from the entrance way covering the stage in its misty coils as three separate light blue spotlights snap onto the figure emerging from the mist the sight of this dim shape already drawing cheers from the fans.

 

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

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen! The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the USJL CHAMPIONSHIP!” Funyon pauses for a moment as the fans let out a modest pop for the title itself before continuing. “Making his way to the ring is the challenger! He hails from Svalbard, Norway! And weighs in at 245lbs! THE CORONA! VLADIMIR EVERHEART!”

 

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

 

“And there he is Citizens! Citizen Everheart ready to make his first grab at SWF gold!”

 

“First and last if there’s any justice in the world.” Riley mutters into his mic as he watches the masked wrestler begin to warm himself up for the match.

 

“Anticipation will be running high in Citizen Everheart tonight Robert. It’s the first big chance he’s received in the SWF.”

 

Prong’s “Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck” suddenly hits the speakers, the arena lights dimming as multi coloured strobe lights flicker across the arena, the song warring with the rising cheers of the fans as the second participant makes his entrance. The cheering of the fans only intensifies as Manson emerges from the entranceway, striding purposefully down the ramp ignoring the fans and keeping his gaze focused on the ring the USJL tightly gleaming around his waist.

 

“And introducing the opponent! Weighing 230lbs! And hailing from Denver, Colorado! HE IS THE USJL CHAMPION! MANSON!!!!!!!”

 

The boos of the fans escalate as Funyon announces Manson, the former Hate Machine rolling into the ring and pushing himself back to his feet, unstrapping the title from his waist and holding it high into the air to the displeasure of the Phoenix fans before heading to his corner, belt in hand and eyes fixed on his opponent.

 

“And there’s a man who should have lost the USJL Title to Max King Comet! Vlad could learn a few things from the Icon, if he understood a word of English that is.”

 

Funyon makes his exit from the ring as Eddy Long moves over towards the champion, hands extended to receive the belt that the former Hate Machine grudgingly surrenders, not taking his eyes off of his opponent as Long holds the belt up high for the fans before passing it out of the ring to the Time Keeper. Vlad continues his warm up sessions but his eyes are likewise watching his opponent as he stretches himself out before standing easy as Long moves between the two men ready to start the match when suddenly Saliva’s “Superstar” hits the speakers, much to the displeasure of the Phoenix fans!

 

“And what is this Robert?! Citizen King wasn’t even booked for this show!” Comet squeaks as Max King strides from the entranceway, Kelly in tow behind him, the Icon ignoring everything around him as he stares fixedly at the ring and more specifically at the USJL champion.

 

“He can go wherever the hell he wants to go Comet and god help anyone who wants to try and stop him! Max King is not happy about losing his chance at the title and I’ll bet anything he’s here to make sure Manson loses that belt tonight, he wants revenge Comet and as always it’s a dish best served cold!”

 

Manson matches glares with King as the Icon reaches the ringside area, both men staring at one another, the anger between the two almost palpable in the air before Manson finally tears his gaze away and looks back to Vlad who seems confused as to why Max King is out here at all. Eddy Long half leans out of the ring for a few stern words with King who simply puts up his hands and indicates that he just wants to watch the mat first hand.

 

Long doesn’t seem convinced but he has a match to run and the fans are getting restless. Checking the position of both men one last time he turns to the Time Keeper and quickly signals him to start the match.

 

 

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

 

 

The two men lunge at one another as the bell tolls, slamming together straight into a collar and elbow tie up, both men straining against one another but Vlad’s greater strength quickly gives him the edge in the contest. The Corona breaks the tie up quickly, wrapping one arm around the head of the former Hate Machine and drawing him in close with a Side Headlock. Manson reacts quickly, pushing Vlad back into the ropes and using his own prodigious strength shoots him off across the ring, the ropes bend heavily as the Corona rebounds and uses the extra momentum to run full tilt at the champ. Manson ducks under an attempted Palm Strike by Vlad, whipping around to face the masked wrestler as he rebounds from the ropes a second time.

 

The Corona comes off of the ropes and gets knocked straight down as the former Hate Machine counters with a fast Roundhouse Kick. Vlad is quick to get back to his feet, but Manson is faster, pouncing on his opponent from behind and latching his arms around the Corona’s middle in a solid waistlock. Vlad is quick to counter this latest threat however, snapping an elbow back into Manson’s face before he drops to one knee, both hands coming up to latch onto the head of the former Hate Machine, hauling him down over his right shoulder with a quick Snapmare. Manson is quickly back up to his feet charging at his opponent and running straight into a Deep Arm Drag.

 

Undaunted the former Hate Machine rolls back up to his feet to meet Vlad’s counter charge and scores with an Arm Drag of his own, the Corona twists himself back up to his feet leaving them almost as soon as they hit the canvas as he aims a quick Dropkick at his opponent. Manson swerves away from those questing feet, swatting them away from him and sending the Corona smacking back down onto the mat before leaping up himself as he tries to plant a solid Knee Drop on the challenger. But this time Vlad rolls away and back up to his feet and Manson’s knee brace hits the canvas.

 

Both men scramble to their feet once again, Manson locking eyes with Vlad as the two men share a brief standoff, the Corona starting to pace the ring in what looks like agitation. Manson gives his injured knee a brief stretch and a shake and finds that its more than able to continue, the brace protecting it from much of the impact and he back up a pace, studying his opponent as the fans begin to warm up to the match, cheers for both men sounding out from the crowd.

 

“A short burst of action there, but it did not produce any decisive results for either of these two men Robert.”

 

“But you can see that Manson was taking notes from his previous encounter Comet, he kept up with Vlad during that short exchange. It’s veteran versus rookie Comet and my money is on the veteran.”

 

Vlad stops pacing after a moment, looking over at the side of the ring as he hears Max King clapping sardonically on the outside, looking at the Icon Vlad almost misses Manson coming towards him once again and quickly lunges at the former Hate Machine trying to tie him up once again This time however Manson ducks under Vlad’s questing arms and slips behind his tall opponent before once again latching on a waistlock. Vlad once again jams an elbow backwards into the head of the champion, a second hard elbow follows loosening the grip just enough for the Corona to spin around and try for another Palm Strike, but Manson ducks yet again.

 

Both men spin around to face the other, the former Hate Machine lashing out with a booted foot, and kicking Vlad squarely in the gut. The kick has the desired effect as it doubles the Corona over leaving him wide open for the champion, Manson doesn’t waste the opportunity, stepping in close and slapping on a facelock.

 

A split second before Manson can hit the DDT he’s going for two hands lock around his waist and Vlad straightens up quickly, easily lifting the struggling champion into the air and over his head. Manson tries to hold onto his opponent but then both men are falling backwards as Vlad hammers Manson against the canvas with a Northern Lights Suplex, the fans exploding once again as the Corona’s body arches up into a textbook bridge.

 

“Citizen Everheart trying to end it early!”

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

 

 

 

 

TW-KICKOUT!

 

 

Manson easily powers out of this first early pinfall attempt, both men quick to get back to their feet once more, both men eyeing one another for a moment before they both lunge at one another once more Manson starting things up by lighting up Vlad’s chest with a hard Knife Edge chop that draws the appropriate “Wooooooo!” from the fans. Vlad is not one to shirk in the chop department either, reeling from the stiff blow he fires back one of his own, chopping directly at the throat of the champion.

 

“Citizen Everheart made a quick attempt at the win Robert but Citizen Manson will have none of it!” Comet winces as both champion and challenger go at it hammer and tongs, the crowd almost unable to keep up as chop after chop smashes into chest and neck alike. “I can feel those chops from here Robert! I think they want to take their opponent home in a doggy bag!”

 

Vlad’s chest is quickly turning pink from the hard chops slamming into his flesh so he changes tactics, sucking up another stiff chop before he fires a Palm Strike at the champion, the flat of his hand smacking Manson squarely in the temple. Manson staggers backwards from the hard blow as Vlad follows up the Palm Strike with a hard left cross to his opponents jaw, sending the champion staggering back towards a nearby corner.

 

Hurt but nowhere near out Manson gathers his wits, ducking under another Palm Strike he slips behind the Corona yet again, slamming a hard punch into his opponents kidneys. Vlad arches his back as another sharp blow hammers into the kidney area, driving the challenger into the turnbuckles himself. The Corona twists in the turnbuckle desperately trying for yet another elbow but the former Hate machine ducks out of the way, letting Vlad turn himself around in the corner before smashing a hard right into the belly of his challenger.

 

“This is turning into more of a brawl than a wrestling match Robert!”

 

“If it’s a brawl then Manson should be better off, we all know he’s no shirker in that field, one look at Everheart’s chest will tell you that!”

 

As Vlad doubles over in the corner, Manson quickly hops back a pace waiting for his opponent to raise his head before he leaps forwards and sends his right knee, brace and all crashing into the forehead of the Corona with a devastating Jumping Knee.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“And the fans say it all Robert!”

 

They certainly do as Vlad staggers out of the corner, both hands clutching his head from the vicious impact of the knee brace and leaving himself wide open for Manson to pick apart as he sees fit. Manson quickly steps in close to the Corona and delivers a sharp Martial Art’s kick against Vlad’s left thigh, making the masked wrestler stumble. Manson presses the advantage, kicking at Vlad’s left thigh and knee, forcing the challenger to try and cover up as the champion picks at his left leg before changing tack and slashing another Knife Edge chop at that already red chest. After a hard kick to the kneecap that has Vlad clutching at his knee the former Hate Machine hits the ropes and charges back at his opponent, flooring the Corona with a perfectly aimed Yakuza Kick.

 

“I think they just found Citizen Everheart’s head in the fourth row Robert!”

 

“Everheart is down and Manson has the cover. Come on Long! Do your job and count for the man!”

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE-NO-KICKOUT!

 

 

Vlad also manages a strong kickout but it clear that the Corona’s head is rattled as he doesn’t make any attempt to get back up, till trying to shake off the effects of that knee brace to the head and the added effect of the Yakuza Kick he was just force fed. Manson isn’t even flustered as Everheart kicks out, the former Hate Machine rising smoothly back to his feet and moving to the nearest turnbuckle, as the cheers of the fans get louder. The champion boosts himself up to the second rope looking down at the prone Vlad in the ring, at ringside Max King begins to move with all the intentions of spoiling Manson’s plan. Before the Icon can get close however, he sees Long watching him and merely spreads his hands with a grin as former Hate Machine leaps off the second rope and hits a perfect Leg Drop across the throat of his challenger.

 

“Citizen King is already acting suspicious Robert!”

 

“You’re supposed to be watching the to men in the ring Comet not the man outside. Like I said, Max King does what he wants, when he wants. If you want to stop him Comet then give us all a good laugh by trying!”

 

Comet doesn't reply as his eyes are drawn back to the ring once more as Manson twist his body about to pin the challenger once again, hooking a leg and holding it tight as Long counts the fall once again.

 

 

ONE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-KICKOUT!

 

 

Vlad roughly throws the champion off of him a split second before Eddy Long counts three; he begins to struggle back up, literally forcing himself back to his feet looking for his opponent, unaware that the former hate Machine is poised behind him. Waiting for Vlad to turn around Manson spins himself around on the spot before lashing out with a hard elbow, cracking the bone hard against the head of the Corona, sending him reeling back into a corner.

 

With his opponent temporarily stunned Manson moves in close, scaling the corner as quickly as he can, climbing up behind the Corona. Before Vlad can react, the former Hate Machine wrapping an arm around the challengers head and jumping forwards off of the corner, using the extra height to plant Vlad’s face squarely into the canvas with a huge Bulldog!

 

Manson is on top of Vlad before the challenger can get up, he grabs the Corona’s left foot jerking the leg up with all his strength and smashing the knee into the canvas causing further damage to the appendage. Vlad struggles to get back up to his knees only to be met with a barrage of sharp stinging punches from Manson, now that Vlad is temporarily grounded once again it gives the former Hate Machine the opportunity to get off some hard punches, and he doesn’t disappoint. The fans rallying behind the champion as he hits Vlad with stinging lefts and rights, every punch snapping the masked head to one side as it connects.

 

“Citizen Manson really taking the fight back to Citizen Everheart Robert! He’s testing his challengers resilience to the limit!”

 

“You’re damn right he is Comet and he’s started to work on that left leg of Vlad’s that’s a throw back to their first match, Vlad zeroed in on Manson’s knee at it looks like the champion is eager to return the favour!”

 

“And look at those punches! He’s laying into Citizen Everheart with all his strength!”

 

“Well Vlad had better think of or do something soon or this could be over quickly, Manson is more than capable of beating him into a pulp until he stops kicking out. Maybe the smart thing to do would be to give up now.”

 

Vlad stubbornly gets back to his feet, backing away into a corner and shaking his head slightly to try and clear his mind as the former Hate Machine retreats to the far side of the ring slapping his right Elbow before charging at Vlad as he sags in the corner. The Corona sees the champion coming towards him and the cameras catch his eyes narrowing beneath the make up before he charges out of the corner to meet the former Hate Machine in the middle of the ring! Smashing into his smaller opponent with a devastating Running Palm Strike as Manson caves his head in with a Running Elbow in return!

 

“Good god what a Palm Strike Robert!!”

 

“And what an Elbow! Both men are down, and Manson may have lost the edge if he can’t recover quickly from this!”

 

The fans come alive once again as both men lay flat on their backs on the hard canvas, hands pressed against their respective heads as cheers and encouragement for both men begins to fly from the crowd. Max King himself begins to take a closer interest, moving to lean against the apron as he watches the two downed men in the ring, temporarily ignored by Eddy Long as the referee begins a ten count.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THREE!

 

The cheers and urgings of the fans continue to increase but still Manson and Vlad remain on the canvas, the champion rolls over onto his stomach but remains there as the count continues.

 

FOUR!

 

 

 

FIVE

 

 

 

SIX!

 

 

 

SEVEN!

 

Both men begin to stir, Manson slowly pushing himself up to his knees, shaking his head as Vlad slowly sits up, trying to get his legs underneath him as the count reaches…

 

EIGHT!

 

 

 

NINE!

 

And both men are finally up, somewhat unsteady on their feet, as Long aborts his count and makes signals to the Time Keeper that the match is to continue, Max King leaning back once more as Vlad and Manson square off once again, albeit a little unsteadily. Vlad strikes first, rocking Manson with a stiff right cross, the champion tires to reply in turn but the Corona ducks underneath the blow and the momentum swings the Hate machine around. Vlad steps in behind his opponent as quickly as he can, his arms locking the champions arms in a Full Nelson before heaving backwards and dropping the former Hate Machine on the back his head with a hard Dragon Suplex. The corona locks his body in a huge bridge despite the obvious pain his knee must be causing him, the fans exploding once again as long quickly drops down to count the fall.

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

“He kicked out! Citizen Manson kicked out of the Dragon Suplex Robert!”

 

“He fought too hard to get that title to give it up now!”

 

The fans explode once more as Manson’s right shoulder shoots off of the canvas before Long’s hand can slap the mat for three, the champion not willing to give up yet as Vlad slowly gets back up to his feet clearly favouring his left knee. Outside the ring Max King slaps the canvas in disgust and shouts at Long for not counting the three, as the Corona slowly begins to drag Manson off of the mat and back up to his feet. Vlad quickly slaps a Facelock onto the champion, reaching between Manson’s legs and grabbing him by the crotch before heaving him up into the air for the Northern Lights Bomb. The plan is sound but the execution is less than perfect as Vlad manages to get Manson half way up before a sharp twinge wracks his damaged knee and he drops the champion back to the canvas as the limb almost buckles.

 

“Citizen Everheart tried for the Northern Lights Bomb but his knee, that bridge on the Dragon Suplex may have needlessly aggravated the joint!”

 

“And all that shows is poor planning on Vlad’s part Comet, and the advantage goes back to Manson.”

 

Shaking his knee desperately as he retains the Facelock, Vlad tries for the Northern Lights Bomb once again, but once again he meets with the same result as his leg will just not support the weight and Manson drops back to the canvas once again. The champion is shaken but not finished yet as he takes a page from the book of his opponent, locking his arms around the waist of his challenger and flipping Vlad up and over with a Northern Lights Suplex.

 

Instead of going for a bridge Manson simply rolls his body backwards, the impact breaking the Facelock that trapped him as he rolls up to straddle the Corona’s legs, quickly reaching down to grab the injured left leg he flips Vlad over onto his stomach and immediately cinches in an elevated Half Crab. The effect is immediate as Vlad’s body arches up, contorting as the champion ruthlessly applies the hold, though the cameras cannot catch the face beneath the mask the pain in the Corona’s voice and the posturing of his body tell the story better than an expression could.

 

“Vlad’s Requiem is playing Comet! And what a sweet sound it is!” Riley crows as the fans get behind both men once more, half wanting Manson to lock the hold even tighter while an equal half urge Vlad to get to the ropes.

 

The Corona begins to inch himself towards the bottom rope, shaking his head every time Long asks him if he wants to give up, dragging his body inch by torturous inch towards the ropes the agony in his knee making cry out between panting breathes. The fans get louder and louder as the Corona gets closer to the ropes, Max King visible on the outside, urging Vlad to get to the ropes as he wants to see anything but a Manson victory tonight. Finally in reach, Vlad stretches out a questing hand, a hand that misses the ropes by the barest fraction of an inch as Manson drags his opponent back into the centre of the ring!

 

Vlad’s hands clutch at his masked head, his free leg hammering the mat in agony as finally his right hand begins to rise, the pain becoming too great for him to endure. He tries to pull himself to the ropes once again but Manson holds his position firm and the Corona’s hand begins to slap the mat as he submits to the hold.

 

“Citizen Everheart is tapping out Robert!”

 

Vlad may be tapping but Long isn’t watching as Kelly is up on the ring apron and shouting at Long who immediately moves to order her off of the apron. The sultry Kelly Connelley does her job, keeping Long’s attention from where it should be as Vlad slaps the canvas behind him, meanwhile behind Long’s back Max King slides into the ring, forcibly ending the submission attempt with a swift and savage boot into Manson’s face.

 

“What dastardly trick is this!?” Cries an incensed Comet.

 

“Eddy Long doing his job correctly for once.” Riley says smugly.

 

“By looking the other way?!”

 

“That doesn’t even deserve an answer Comet.” Riley states with a smirk as Max King hauls a dazed Manson back up to his feet, smashing a boot into his gut and spiking him headfirst into the canvas with a DDT!

 

As Manson crashes back to the mat, King grabs Vlad from where he lies clutching at his knee and roughly shoves him on top of the champion before leaping out of the ring ignoring the booing and hatred of the fans that rains down on him. Kelly sees her man exit and finally leaves the apron as well, Long turning back to see Vlad making a half hearted attempt at hooking a leg, one hand clutching at his left knee. The attempt may be half hearted but its still a pinfall and Long drops down to his stomach to count the fall once more.

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

The boos do a swift 180 and becomes ecstatic cheers once again as Manson’s shoulder leaves the canvas JUST in the nick of time, Long has to roll onto his side to stop his hand smacking the canvas for three, quickly thrusting 2 fingers up into the air for the Time Keeper as the fans tries to blow the roof off of the arena with their cheering.

 

“And Citizen Manson is still fighting on Robert! Even in the face of that dastardly attack by Citizen King!”

 

Max King can’t believe it and neither can I! Why can’t Manson just get it into his head that he’s supposed to stay down?!” Riley snarls as max King smashes the ring apron in disbelief, pointing at Long and yelling how that had to have been a sure fire three count. In the ring Manson and Vlad are both down once again, both men have taken a hellish beating in the match, both are broken down and tired but both of them also know that only one man can walk out of the arena with the belt.

 

With that thought in mind, tired bodies are slowly forced back up to their feet, the cheering of the fans intensifying to almost deafening proportions as these two combatants face one another one more time, knowing that they have to break out their best shots if they want to leave the winner. Manson sends Vlad staggering backwards with a clubbing forearm, the Corona lurching back onto his damaged knee with a shout of pain before he lunges back at his opponent punching Manson in the face with all the strength he can muster. Manson’s head snaps back once more from the fist that crashes into it and Vlad applies a Facelock once more, his hand grabbing Manson between the legs as he desperately goes for the Northern Lights Bomb once again.

 

And once again he fails, he almost gets Manson up this time but the former Hate Machine adds his struggling to the weakness of the challenger’s knee and slips free of the hold. Manson twists himself around, slapping a ¾ facelock onto Vlad trying for the Diamond Cutter that will end it all, but a quick and ultimately desperate shove from Vlad foils that plan, sending Manson running into the ropes. Vlad holds his ground as Manson hurtles back towards him, moving at the last possible moment he sidesteps another Running Elbow attempt by the champion before making the champion see stars with another devastating Palm Strike that makes the fans wince from the sheer sound of the impact.

 

“Sidestep Palm Strike by Citizen Everheart! BUT CITIZEN MANSON IS STILL ON HIS FEET!”

 

Vlad turns to face the dazed champion, quickly limping forwards and applying a Facelock once again, he grabs Manson by the crotch and heaves him up into the air. Up….up and up the champion goes as with a scream of effort, pain and vindication Vlad lifts Manson high into the air, into a vertical position before his knee finally gives out once again. But this time it’s enough and the champion crashes head first into the canvas, as Vlad clutches at his knee with both hands. The fans are rabid, chanting for both men as max King screams at Vlad to cover Manson, it seems like an eternity of pain to the Corona but finally his hands leave his tortured knee and he’s able to drape an arm over the heaving chest of the champion.

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

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

 

Dimmu Borgir’s “Mourning Palace booms from the speakers once more, all but drowned out as the fans erupt once again, Vlad slumping off of Manson as Max King watches with a wide, satisfied grin plastered all over his face. The Icon’s job is done, and with ore last triumphant glance at the fallen champion, he and Kelly leave the ring and walk up the aisle as Funyon raises his microphone once more.

 

“The winner of the match. And NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW SWF USJL CHAMPION! THE CORONA! VLADIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIR EVERHEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART!”

 

“Citizen Everheart has done it! Citizen Manson put up a heroic defense tonight and even Citizen King’s nefarious meddling couldn’t put him down!”

 

“But the Northern Lights Bomb could.” Riley comments snidely as Eddy long retrieves the belt from the Time Keeper and offers it to Vlad, the Corona weakly reaching up and grasping the belt, too spent to celebrate as he merely rolls slowly out of the ring. He pauses on the outside, leaning against the crowd barrier for support, hardly feeling the congratulatory slaps of the crowd on his back as he slowly and painfully begins to limp his way backstage. But he doesn’t walk alone tonight as the shining gold belt clasped in his hand gleams brightly in the glow of the arena lights, a prize worthy of the pain.

 

“What a match that was Robert!” Comet says enthusiastically watching Vlad continue his treck up the aisle as Manson remains in the ring, breathing heavily but with only two things on his mind. Max King, and a bloody retribution.

 

“A new champion has been crowed Citizens but the night is not over yet! Stay tuned as Citizen’s Dace night and Johnny Dangerous will duke it out for your viewing pleasure! All that and more to come on SWF SMARKDOWN!”

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The cameras fade in on the interior of Commissioner Alexander Zenon's office, where we can see the man himself poring over a stack of dubious looking paperwork. Looking up quickly he glances at a monitor, just to make sure that everything is in order on the merry ship of fools known as the SWF. Returning to the task at hand he scribbles signatures for a few moments... The sound of the office door opening makes Zenon pause in mid-signature, but for some reason he does not look up to acknowledge his guest. Footsteps trail in, stopping directly in front of the commissioner's desk. Zenon sighs to himself, running one hand through his hair to straighten it.

 

A voice breaks the silence, asking one simple question in velvet tones with only the vaguest suggestion of malice...

 

"Ced Ordonez?"

 

Nodding to himself, Zenon looks up to regard the beatific face of the Suicide King. The King is dressed to the nines as usual, but all formality stops at his neck, as his smile stops just short of his eyes.

 

"What about him?"

 

King gracefully takes a seat across from the commissioner.

 

"I was concerned. When I saw his name on the card, and that furthermore he was booked against Stevens, I was afraid some sort of tragedy had befallen the federation. Perhaps we ran out of wrestling midgets to book? Trained monkeys too expensive? Cutthroat out with a family emergency?"

 

Zenon glances venom at the King, clearly indicating that there is only so much sarcasm he will stand before responding.

 

"I mean, Ordonez? An opening card face? With a DDR gimmick? And a former referee at that? For Christ's sake Zenon, the man couldn't be relied upon to count 3, 5, or 10 as needed! So YOU book Stevens against that chucklehead, and I just came to find out IF YOU HAD LOST YOUR FREAKING MIND!" King leaps out of his chair, slamming his hands DOWN on the desk and scattering Zenon's paperwork to the four winds.

 

Alex springs to his feet, one finger stabbing the air toward King. "SIT DOWN. I will not be bullied. I will not be threatened. I am Commissioner, and I will do what I think is right, no matter what some pompous blowhard says! It's my fault Mark is in this mess, and I will be DAMNED if I let you take any further advantage of this than you have already!"

 

King settles back into his chair, smiling. "It's too late for that, Zenon. The genie's out of the bottle. You were Faust and you called on Mephistopheles, and YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED. You are commissioner, thanks to me. You don't get to complain about the price now, and the price is Stevens."

 

Zenon sighs to himself before settling back into his own chair, clearly taken aback by King's emotional downshift. "As long as I am commissioner, I most assuredly do King. I will not allow any of my wrestlers to be put in danger."

 

"Certainly not. Not like Kibagami."

 

"THAT... was different."

 

King smirks. "I'm certain it was. But you touch upon the rub of the matter, as it were. As long as YOU are commissioner, these things will not happen, I take it?"

 

"I know where this is going already. You can't dangle this job over my head King. If I have to kiss your ass to keep it, well, I have an extensive resume already prepared ever since I thought Mark was going to fire me."

 

"Alex, I'm hurt!" King at least has the decency to attempt to look aghast. "You miss my point entirely. I know you have other fall back positions. I don't think you should be thinking about looking for other jobs! Not yet, anyway. I am not threatening you with your termination. I am threatening you with your REPLACEMENT."

 

Pushing his chair back, King rises to continue his little speech. "No one gets this high in the fed without forming an attachment to it on some level. Like it or not, you care about this place, Z. But this place exists by my sufferance. The Board of Directors leaves it to me to observe this little wrestling experiment, and they take my word as gospel. What I say is signed off on, and it happens. Usually, the fed prospers. But for Stevens' sake, I am willing to make this place... suffer."

 

"What are you saying, King? Spell it out for me please. I don't speak Asshole."

 

King glances hot death at Z before his normal poker face returns. "What I am saying, Z, is that if you do not play ball with me regarding Stevens, I will turn this place over to the most inadequate, unqualified, spiteful, or downright insane person I can find. Imagine if you will an SWF run by... oh I don't know, Kibagami."

 

Z blanches.

 

"Flesher? He has the knowledge, I daresay he could be the best commissioner since myself." King leans in, grinning.

 

Unable to resist twisting the knife one last time, King moves in close enough to whisper. "Or imagine the fun and most of all INTERESTING programming we could have with someone in the commissionership like..."

 

"Janus."

 

Zenon stares back at the Suicide King with a stony gaze. "If you did any of those things, you would be killing your meal ticket too."

 

"You don't quite get it yet Alex. I am perfectly ok with that. The question is, are you? All of these people count on you. Quitting would be fine if you could count on a replacement, but you CAN'T. All you can count on is me. And if you don't acquiesce on this one, tiny, insignficant detail I will put a lobotomized monkey in charge of this company and let everyone know that it was YOU that sank this ship because you 'felt bad for Mark.'" King chuckles. "You should feel bad for him. You did this to him."

 

A long silence descends on both sides of the desk.

 

"You really would, wouldn't you?" Zenon spits out hoarsely.

 

A wide-grinning nod is his only reply.

 

Defeated, Z slumps back into his chair. " I want to make this perfectly clear King. I think you are two steps below soap scum."

 

"Duly noted."

 

"And I am doing this under protest, and only because this place needs someone like me, even if only to protect it from someone like you."

 

King smirks. "It would appear that we understand each other perfectly."

 

"What do you want, then?" Z asks.

 

His grin growing wider, King idly cleans his fingernails. "I want what you want. Compelling programming and high ratings. The way I see to ensure that is one you have already struck upon yourself when you booked Stevens vs. Duran. I want high-profile matches pitting Stevens against every single heel midcarder and above. I want them regularly. I want them immediately. All non-title of course. I want Stevens vs. Toxxic. Flesher. Maddix. Lezaire. Davis. Jenkins. Sly. I want him to face them and more besides, and I want them to embarass him. I want him shown up in front of his adoring public as the fat, shapeless, inane fraud that he is. You can think of it as booking dream matches of the past Ultimate Face versus the present Super Heels. The ratings will pour in. People will tune in. AND EVERYONE WILL SEE. They will see that Mark Stevens is no hero, that he is no superman, and that frankly, he is nothing special. And they will see it everytime the referee has to pick him up off the mat after he has been savaged by your latest generation of wrestlers." Turning his attention away from his fingernails, King's eyes focus on Z with a weight behind them...

 

"And when they see that, when the people see that the hero they idolize is in fact just like them but not in the way that they had hoped, then and only then will I have won. And beating Mark Stevens is something that I have spent a career doing, so I will not do it halfway, or let you try to halfass it past me. Do we understand each other, Mister Zenon??"

 

Zenon meets King's gaze and holds it for several long seconds... before dipping his head and nodding it quickly, once.

 

"Excellent. In return I will not muddle about, interjecting myself into federation matters that are none of my concern. This is still your ship Alex, you just need to do this one thing for me. No more opening carders or curtain jerkers. Only the very best for our friend Mark." King mouth twists into the grin of a shark. "And best to start immediately. Next week, next show. I see... 'Grand Slam' Mark Stevens in a battle for the ages against..." His train of though violently derailed by Z's waving, King spits out, "What?"

 

"You can't. Stevens has next show off."

 

"WHAT?"

 

Z appears torn for a moment, before leaping in with both feet. "Mark is in no shape to wrestle a normal schedule. While I know that isn't a problem for you, the fact is that he is a danger in the ring, to himself and to his opponent. He needs time to rest."

 

"Well, that is a luxury that neither he nor you can afford. Once I leave, you can call him in here and inform him that he is wrestling next week."

 

"No."

 

King turns his head slightly, seeming to see Zenon clearly for the first time this entire conversation. "What was that?"

 

"I said no. King, be reasonable. If you make him wrestle every week you won't shame him. You won't break him. You'll probably just kill him, and there's a good chance that if you don't he will kill whoever he in the ring with with a sloppy suplex, or a botched DDT. Do whatever you want to Mark, but when it intersects with my roster, the roster wins." Zenon says all this calmly and with a certainty about him that indicates argument would be futile.

 

King meets his gaze for several more moments... before acquiescing with a dip of his head. "Very well. He gets his day off. But come show after next I want a match to my specifications. If he's in danger of keeling over from heart attack by then, tough."

 

Zenon sighs. "Who did you have in mind?"

 

The Suicide King appears to consider this. "Make it a money match. I don't care where on the card it is. Flesher or Toxxic would be ideal. It's a shame Janus is gone; I would have happily fed Mark to him. Maddix would be good too." King smiles. "Any of those would be a good follow up to Duran I think."

 

"Fine. I'll get on that. Are we done here?"

 

"Why yes, Alex, I believe we are."

 

Z stands. "Then if you would be so kind as to excuse me, I need to call a maid service. Mark told me that your trail of slime requires professionals to get it out of the carpet."

 

King stands, laughing at the empty bravado. "I knew there was a reason I liked you as commissioner, Z. Don't worry, I have other business to attend before I leave tonight."

 

"Oh? And what would that be?"

 

"That, my dear Z, would be none of your damned business. Good night, and do remember what we discussed."

 

And with that, the Suicide King leaves, completely unaware of Z's gauging of a paperweight's use as a murder weapon...

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The American West arena is alive and rocking as the show returns from a brief commercial break, and a voice picks up on the speakers, whispering a name in a deep, sultry voice…

 

JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!”

 

“After the Flesh” thunders across the arena to follow the announcement of the Secret Agent’s name, and the crowd roars in excitement!

 

“Welcome back, Citizens!” exclaims our exuberant Masked Announcer. “SWF Smarkdown continues with our next match, Johnny Dangerous versus Dace Night! And as you can see, we are wasting no time getting this one underway!”

 

The stage fills with smoke, and it serves absolutely no purpose other than to keep Johnny Dangerous hidden in a shroud of deep, dark mystery until he finally steps out to reveal himself to the Phoenix crowd!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Oh, Lord. This is going to be about as exciting as watching grass grow,” mutters Riley. “I think I share the sentiments of the fans when I say I have no desire to watch two losers slug it out.”

 

“Well,” replies Comet, cupping his ear to make sure he hears the fans correctly, “judging by this crowd I don’t think they do share your opinions.”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” bellows Funyon. “Entering first in this match scheduled for one fall! He hails from Las Vegas, Nevada, and weighs in at two hundred and twenty pounds; JOOOHNNY ‘THE BAAARRAAACUDAAAAAAAA’ DAAANGEROUUUS!!!”

 

“Agent Dangerous is coming off of a grueling loss to Landon Maddix on Lockdown,” notes Comet, as Johnny pumps his fist to the crowd. “A win here could definitely put him back on track. However, I’m not so sure he stands much of a chance against Dace Night, who is also coming off a bitter loss on Lockdown.”

 

“Yeah well the difference is that Dace lost to Toxxic,” recalls Bobby. “Losing a World Title shot isn’t as bad as losing a match that you crowbar yourself into, like Johnny-boy did. He couldn’t just walk away from Landon Maddix and acknowledge his loss. Johnny challenged him again! I’d be surprised if he’s even got his foot out of his mouth yet to even try and take on dace Night.”

 

Johnny strips of his coat as his music fades away, and the announcer prepares for the next entrance.

 

“And his opponent…” booms Funyon, barely able to get the words out before a drum solo kicks in and “Painkiller” by Death starts pounding from the speakers to a marvelous pop! Overhead, the pitch-black Smarktron screen shatters like glass to reveal red-filtered clips of the Brummie Goth dropping random people on their heads then slicing up Spike Jenkins! The name “DACE NIGHT” written in spiky lettering comes in before the opening scream kicks in and…

 

BOOOOOOOOM!!

 

An explosion of white pyro nearly rocks the stage to its foundation! Finally, Dace Night emerges from the curtains; stalking across the stage as the smoke left in the wake of the pyrotechnic explosions moves all around him!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“From Birmingham, England,” continues Funyon, “and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the King of Horrorcore… DAAAAAAAAACE-”

 

FUCKIIIIING~!” the fans roar.

 

“-NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!”

 

As Funyon finishes his introductions Dace climbs into the ring then rips his “Horrorcore” shirt from his chest, tearing it straight down the middle like the Hulkster. He slings the tattered remains into the crowd then throws his horns to the fans for a well received pop!

 

“Dear God,” scoffs Bobby. “Have we suddenly gone through a time warp and landed in 1989?”

 

“Hush your mouth, you accursed corrugated devil, you!”

 

With both men in, Anthony Michael Hall—the official for this match—calls them towards the center of the ring. He makes one quick run down of the rules, feeling that he doesn’t have to spend too much time on them with these two class acts then signals to the timekeeper for the bell.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“Here we go,” Comet excitedly says, as the two competitors begin a slow circle of one another, carefully sizing the other man up. “I think this match is going to be a fresh breath of relief for both men here tonight. They’ve been tangled in some bitter wars lately, and a friendly clean match to get back on the winning path could be just what the doctor ordered!”

 

“Please, Comet,” scoffs Bobby. “If there is one thing you need to learn it’s that there are no friendly matches here in the SWF. When one man stands in the way of you climbing the ladder of success, you’d better believe the other man will happily kick that ladder out from under you.”

 

Finally, and much to the Phoenix fan’s delight, Dangerous and Night close in and collide with a classic collar-and-elbow tie up! It’s a bait and switch though, as Johnny knows he can’t overpower the White Night and quickly breaks the tie up while grabbing his opponent’s arm and spinning around behind him for a hammerlock! The Barracuda cranks back on the arm, but Dace isn’t about to start handing over body parts this early on without a fight! He suddenly spins around, ripping his arm free of Johnny’s grasp and nailing the Secret Agent in the jaw with an elbow!

 

CRACK!

 

Johnny stumbles back with a hand to his jaw, feeling his lip for blood as he angrily glares at his opponent. The feeling is mutual, and Dace stares back just as well--rather intensely in fact--while taking the half second he has to work the kink out of his shoulder. The heated moment sends a buzz through the Phoenix crowd, and they move to the edge of their seats. Chants of “DACE!” and “JOOOHN-NY!” erupt from all corners of the arena as the two competitors snarl at each other and bare down on their knuckles, seemingly growing more irate by the minute!

 

“Will you just listen to these fans,” marvels Comet. “This usually partisan crowd is quite literally split down the middle tonight! Quite the opposite of your suggestion from a minute ago, Citizen Robert.”

 

“Figures,” hisses Riley, shaking his head in annoyance. “These people are so stupid they can’t figure out who they like. Now that’s dumb!”

 

Suddenly, Johnny rockets towards the White Night and fakes with a left then quickly slings a right into Dace’s mouth!

 

WHAM!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

The fans explode into cheers, thrilled that this match just might be filled with more ruthlessness than originally expected. However, the blow doesn’t even seem to faze the Brummie Goth, and he fires back with a forearm into the side of Dangerous’ skull!

 

WHACK!

 

Johnny immediately stumbles back, unable to take the blows without flinching like his opponent, and if Dace has it his way… the Barracuda will be doing a lot more than flinching in the next few minutes! He quickly closes in with a second forearm…then a third, each hit knocking Dangerous a step closer to the ropes! Though dazed, Johnny frantically reaches back to feel for the ropes and to have something to grab onto, but before he can reach them Dace grabs him by the arm and whips him across the ring! Johnny hits the ropes and bounces back towards the White Night, who begins the motions of a lariat. But before he can connect Johnny ducks down and blazes right under the Brummie’s arm! He races right past Night, heading straight for the ropes behind the Horrorcore King and picking up some serious steam! He hits the ropes and springs off them to go screaming back towards his opponent, then jumps up…

 

WHAM!

 

…and slams into the White Night with a flying body press! He catches Dace just as he was spinning back around to face him, and hits so hard that he violently sends Night crashing down into the canvas! Johnny stays right on top of the Brummie, hoping for a quick pin as Hall drops to count for…

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

NOOO!!! Dace mightily shoves the Barracuda off of him, ending the count just before two!

 

“I think you can toss that friendly match idea out the window now, Comet,” snickers Riley, as Comet furrows his brow. “These two look more like two gorillas fighting for leadership of the band! Only this fight is to get back on the winning path… so umm…I guess they wouldn’t really be fighting for leadership or anything, but still…you know what I mean…it’s not friendly!”

 

“Well if there’s one thing you should learn from tonight, that’s to quit while you’re ahead,” says Comet, scolding his broadcast partner. “As far as these two go, they might be taking out more of their aggression then what I had originally hoped for!”

 

Dace tries to quickly get to his feet and get back on the defensive path, but his nimble opponent greets him with a boot to the gut! Dace doubles over and Johnny snags him in a side headlock. He clenches down as hard as he can then starts to pull the White Night across the ring, fully intending to clothesline him across the top rope. However, Dace isn’t about to let any of those shenanigans play out though and he quickly slams on the brakes, shoving Dangerous away. Johnny keeps on going, heads across the ring once more then hits the ropes and comes rocketing back towards Dace. Like before, Night looks to catch the Barracuda with a lariat only this time…

 

WHACK!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

…it connects, and he sends Johnny to the mat with a thunderous clothesline! Now it’s Dace’s turn to make for the cover, and he does so with Hall counting for…

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW-NOOO!!!! Johnny kicks out just in the middle of two! Dace grabs the Barracuda by his head and pulls him to his feet, tossing in a few shots to Johnny’s midsection to keep him subdued before spinning him around and locking his hands around the Barracuda’s waist from behind! Dangerous knows what’s coming up next and it’s all he can do to frantically grapevine his leg around Night’s as Dace tries to haul him over for a German. It stops the suplex as intended, giving Johnny enough time to send an elbow flying back into his opponent’s skull! Dace grunts from the blow, but doesn’t budge until three more elbows thrown in rapid succession coming firing back at him! Finally, the strikes pay off and Dace staggers back off the Secret Agent, releasing his hands from Johnny’s waist. But it seems to only enrage the King of Horrorcore even more, and he charges right back in, just when Dangerous thought he had a second to breathe…

 

WHAM!

 

…and clubs him right in the spine with a closed fist! Johnny arches back, crying out in pain as the crowd “OOOOOH”S!” from the hollow, bone filled THUNK~! that pierces the sound waves!

 

“OH!” Comet winces at the hit. “Citizen Night is bringing the same amount of aggression that he brought to his last match against Toxxic! Does he even realize who he’s fighting here!?”

 

“He knows damn well who’s in that ring with him,” snaps Bobby, “and he isn’t about to let that goofball upstage him in a match! While I have about as much love for Dace Night as I do three day old toast, at least he’s clued in on the wrestling basics. Johnny, on the other hand, has yet to ever get a clue. He’s still trying to win matches with his little stuntman show, and we’ve seen how far that’s gotten him!”

 

Dace quickly seizes his opponent once more from behind then hauls him up, and over, and into the canvas, neck-and-shoulders first with a German suplex!

 

WHAM!

 

Then immediately floats over for the cover.

 

ONEE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOO!!!!

 

 

 

NOOOOO!!!!!! Johnny thrusts his shoulder of the mat just after two, saving himself from a loss for the time being.

 

“Citizen Night goes for the suplex once more, only this time he gets it and earns a two count,” says Comet. “Thus bringing his power package to the table; only tonight he’s not just bringing it, he’s heaving it onto the table! If Agent Dangerous has any realistic plans of winning this match he’s going to have to keep the distance and move the match with quick strikes.”

 

“Which is something Toxxic was able to do on Lockdown if you’ll remember,” Riley notes. “Sadly, Johnny doesn’t have the skill to counter Dace’s moves like our World Champion does and it’s the main reason the Barracuda will never escape mid-card hell!”

 

Especially not if it means Dace Night has to take the fall! He moves to reacquire the shaken Barracuda before he can get to a vertical position on his own; grabbing Johnny by his head and jerking him to his feet. Dace quickly pulls Johnny into a headlock to keep the pressure on his opponent and gradually wear him down until Dangerous has nothing left to offer. That time has yet to come though, and before the Brummie Goth has the chance to tighten his grip and crush the Secret Agent like a trash compactor, Johnny jams his elbow into Night’s gut! Dace grunts on impact and Johnny fires another shot in, this time with a little more force behind it. The elbows themselves don’t really do much damage to the King of Horrorcore’s armor, but they certainly distract him from his goal, allowing the Barracuda to slip out of harms reach. Johnny quickly darts across the ring"-and the Barracuda is fighting back for control of this match!" exclaims Comet, but as Johnny springs off the ropes towards Dace, the White Night desperately swings his forearm out...

 

WHOOSH!

 

... and misses, as Johnny dodges the forearm smash by ducking down and spinning away from the oncoming arm then fluidly moves right into a roundhouse kick! He nails the White Night right in his abdomen, stunning Dace as he doubles over while clenching his wound. Johnny takes the one second opening that Night gives him and moves right into a Russian Leg Sweep! Dace goes crashing into the mat after having his legs swept out from under him, and Johnny quickly jumps up then arches back while bringing out his elbow…

 

WHACK!

 

…and sinks the point of his elbow directly into Dace’s sternum! The White Night quivers on impact, but stays on his back as Johnny floats over for a cover.

 

ONEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOO!!!!!!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!

 

“Again Dace powers out of the pin attempt,” says Bobby, as Dace tosses Dangerous off him then rolls onto his stomach and shoves off the mat, “proving that it’s going to take a lot more than anything Johnny has to offer to put him down!”

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Robert,” Comet firmly replies. “I think Johnny is starting to realize that he needs to let his instincts in the martial arts guide him in this match. If anything it’s definitely allowed him to take control of this match.”

 

“Yeah, but how long is that going to last?” ponders Riley, as Dace gets to his knees only to find the Barracuda charging back towards him! Johnny dives at Dace feet-first, but Horrorcore quickly rolls out of the way…

 

“Oof!”

 

…and Johnny lands flat on his back in the most unflattering of mannerisms. He flushes bright red and quickly pops back up to his feet…

 

WHACK!

 

Only for Dace Night to charge in with a forearm smash that sends the Barracuda rocking on his heels! Johnny staggers back against the ropes, semi-stunned, but still coherent enough to quickly duck down as Dace rushes forward with a second forearm smash. Johnny pops up from behind then braces himself to deliver a Johnny Kick! The crowd moves to the edge of their seats, and as the White Night turns back around to face his opponent, Johnny launches his foot into the air--his targeting reticules locked onto Night’s chin! Dace frantically leans back to avoid the blast and grabs the Barracuda by his ankle, snatching it straight out of mid-air! Johnny gasps in horror, but before he can readjust his plan Dace flips him to the mat, flat on his back…

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“-and here comes the Torture Crab!” exclaims Comet. “Citizen Night has got Johnny down, and if he can lock that devastating submission in this could spell disaster for Agent Dangerous!”

 

“And victory for Dace Night,” adds Bobby.

 

“Well, yes,” replies Comet, shaking his head in despair, “that is how it generally goes. I’m so glad you could lend your wisdom to tonight’s broadcast.”

 

“No problem!” sings Riley with a wide-toothed grin, the sarcasm sailing right over his head.

 

Dace tries to roll Johnny onto his stomach to lock in the crab, but Johnny frantically kicks and bucks, trying to worm his way free! Finally, he reaches for the ropes, as it’s all he can do to break free and snares onto the bottom. Hall calls for the break, which gets a half cheer-half letdown reaction from the fans. Dace obliges and releases Dangerous, who lets out a sigh of relief, but it isn’t going to last long as Night quickly pulls him back up with an arm wrench. He steps forward, whipping the Barracuda across the ring and straight towards the corner…

 

WHACK! “OOOOOOOOH!!”

 

Johnny slams back-first into the unforgiving steel post then flops to the canvas! He groans in agony, clutching his aching back while trying to get back up. Staying on the mat would certainly be his doom and he knows it, so despite the pain he reaches for the ropes and pulls himself back to his feet. However, that seems to be just what the White Night was hoping for. Dace charges across the ring towards his opponent, catching Johnny like a deer caught in the headlights before spinning around and absolutely blasting him in the head with a “-ROOOOOOOOOOOLLING ELBOOOOOOOOW~!” calls the masked announcer.

 

KA-RAAAACK!!

 

Dace’s devastating blow sends the Barracuda tumbling over the top rope to the thinly-padded concrete floor, and he lands with a monstrous thud!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“What a tremendous Rolling Elbow that was!” exclaims Comet, shouting over the roaring crowd. “I think Agent Dangerous might be counting his blessings that it sent him over the top rope and not to the mat, or it’d have certainly been the end of this match!”

 

“Once again, Dace goes for the same type of strategy as he did on Lockdown,” notes Riley. “Only Toxxic-”

 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, not this again!”

 

“It’s true, and you know it!” snaps Bobby. “When Toxxic was presented with the same type of predicament he wisely pulled down the ropes and nearly sent Dace tumbling out of the ring. Once again, skills, something Johnny doesn’t have, need I say more?”

 

“You need’nt say anything to begin with!”

 

Hall begins the standard ten-count on Johnny, who is on the outside holding dearly to his head. He gets up on his knees, but doesn’t move from that position.

 

“ONEEE!!!”

 

 

 

“TWOOO!!!”

 

 

 

“THREEEE!!!”

 

 

 

“FOOOOOUR!!!”

 

Dace knows he could probably win this match right now as the Barracuda doesn’t look to be climbing back inside the ring anytime soon, but he decides not to tempt fate. So like any sensible warrior would, Dace drops out of the ring and grabs Johnny by his collar, pulling the stunned Secret Agent to his feet then heaves him in the ring under the bottom rope. Dace rolls in after his opponent just as the referee reaches the count of “SIIIIIIIIX” then rolls Johnny onto his back and goes for the pin. Hall stops his count out and drops for the pin-fall.

 

ONEEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

 

Johnny kicks out with only a nanosecond to spare, and the crowd roars its approval with a thunderous cheer!

 

“Johnny gets the shoulder up again,” says Comet, “but there wasn’t much authority behind that one. Luckily, he had all that time to recover or he might have bit the dust right there!”

 

“Unluckily for us though,” chirps Bobby. “We could have been done with this match already.”

 

Dace grabs Johnny by his head and begins pulling him to his feet. It’s obvious that the White Night has grown tired of the Barracuda’s persistence and he aims to end it now, calling for the Defenestration! The fans jump up and throw the horns towards Dace, clearly ready to see this destructive move, but the moment he pays towards his fans is a moment too much. Desperate to hold on, Johnny quickly leaps up and slams his open fist into the White Night, right between the eyes, with a vicious, yet desperate Shotei Palmstrike!

 

THHHHH-WAAAACK!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

The crowd explodes as Johnny thunders the strike into Dace’s skull and sends the Brummie Goth stumbling back, “-and Agent Dangerous still has some fight left inside him!” exclaims Comet. “He’s not going down to Citizen Night just yet, so long as he has something left in the tank!”

 

“But that tank is on reserves,” adds Riley, too which nobody pays attention to.

 

Dangerous steps forward, utterly seething and determined that win or loose, he won’t be the only one going home with a headache tonight! He storms after the White Night and launches his fist into Dace with a second Shotei, and then a third before finally spinning completely around…

 

WHOOSH-CRACK!!

 

…and just cranking his foot into Dace’s temple with a spinning heel kick, nearly fracturing his skull! The White Night goes flying backwards and he falls into the ropes, completely stunned out of his mind! Johnny quickly reacts, knowing good and well that it won’t take long for his opponent to gather himself. He pulls Night off the ropes and ducks down to drape his opponent across his shoulders then carefully, with a tremendous growl, stands to his feet!

 

“What a tremendous display of strength by the Barracuda,” marvels Comet, as the fans valiantly cheer the Secret Agent on. Johnny doesn’t take any time to acknowledge them though, knowing that he can’t hold his opponent up for long as his back is already starting to give away. He quickly executes a forward flip, bringing Dace down into the canvas and drilling him back-first!

 

WHAM!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Spinal Explosion!” calls Comet, as the ring quivers on impact. “Agent Dangerous is showing that he can come up with some powerful moves as well as his opponent!”

 

“Maybe so,” adds Bobby, “But do you really think that’s going to be enough to end this match!?”

 

Hoping to answer that very question, Johnny reaches back and hooks onto Dace’s leg then rolls him onto his shoulders. Hall drops to count for…

 

ONEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Dace kicks out just before three, and the fans roar in excitement! Night pushes off the mat with one hand while holding his head with the other hand, grimacing from the head trauma.

 

“All those shots Agent Dangerous has delivered to Citizen Night’s head seem to be finally sinking in,” observes Comet. “It might not have been such a bad idea after all, eh, Robert?” he finishes, jabbing his broadcast partner in the ribs with his elbow.

 

“Will you stop!?” snaps Riley. “Besides, Dace has yet to recover from that Caffeine Bomb Toxxic gave him on Lockdown. Johnny’s done nothing more than nag at an old wound!”

 

As Dace finally stands the Barracuda is already waiting on him, and Johnny punts his foot right into the White Night’s gut! Dace doubles over into a side headlock, just like earlier, only this time he isn’t able to put up any resistance as Dangerous bolts across the ring, pulling him along for the ride. Johnny doesn’t even bother to slow down as he nears the edge of the ring, instead he hurdles over the top rope and clotheslines Horrorcore against the ropes as he drops to the outside! Dace goes flying back and crashes down back-first into the mat with a tremendous thud! He thrashes back and forth while clenching his neck, and to Johnny he’d appear to be the perfect sitting duck. The Secret Agent hops up to the outside apron then vaults to the top rope and springs off! He extends his elbow way out, but before he reaches his opponent, Dace draws his knees up and Johnny slams chest-first into them!

 

“OOOOOOOOH!”

 

Johnny glances off the knees and is sent spinning through the air before crashing down into the mat himself, leaving both men on the mat to wallow in their own pains!

 

“By Zeus!” shouts Comet. “Just like that, Citizen Night puts a block into Agent Dangerous’ game plan!”

 

Johnny sits on his knees, cradling his chest as Dace staggers to his feet, woozy from the skull shots. The White Night moves forward while holding the side of his head, just as the Barracuda starts climbing back up to his feet, but before he can get all the way up Dace shoots the Barracuda’s foot! He grabs Johnny’s foot, but the split second reflexes of the Secret Agent cause him to leap up…

 

CRACK!

 

…and just barely grazes the back of the White Night’s skull with an enzuigiri! Dace drops to his knees, too stubborn to actually fall flat on his face, which is no problem for Dangerous—he’ll make the Brummie Goth go down like it or not! Johnny quickly reaches around Dace’s neck from behind, and locks on a sleeper! Dangerous tightens down as hard as he can, determined to subdue this beast, who is flailing his arms and trying to pull Johnny’s arms away from his neck!

 

“Agent Dangerous is going for the technical knockout it seems,” suggest Comet. “With all the blows Johnny has dealt to Dace’s head, this could very well be the ticket!”

 

“What are you blabbering about? Johnny doesn’t contain the strength in those toothpick arms to put a poodle out, much less the King of Horrorcore himself,” Riley says, even as Dace seems to be slowly fading.

 

The crowd starts to get lively once more, and as Dace finally stops resisting Hall grabs him by the arm, lifts it up, and lets it fall…

 

“ONE!” shouts Hall, raising one finger high into the air. Chant’s of “DACE! DACE! DACE!” break out—the fans seemingly unable to stay firmly on either man’s side. Hall grabs the White Night’s arm again. He lifts it up, lets it drop, and again raises his hand into the air.

 

“TWO!”

 

“-and will you just get a load of these fans,” says Comet, “I don’t think they want this match to ever end!”

 

Hall grabs Dace’s arm once more and prepares to lift it up once more, “-but if that arm drops once more then this match IS over!” shouts Bobby. “Dace Night will have been knocked out by Johnny freaking Dangerous!”

 

Hall lifts up Night’s arm…

 

 

…then releases it with the fans watching, dripping with hop!

 

 

It falls…

 

 

 

all…

 

 

 

 

 

 

the…

 

 

 

 

 

 

way…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Dace suddenly bolts back to life, holding his arm up under his own power! The crowd roars in tender delight, and with a ferocious growl Dace starts to fight back the sleeper, rising back up to his feet! Johnny tries to hold on as tight as he can, but right now he isn’t even sure if Dace even realizes that he’s suppose to be going out and not fighting back!

 

“Dace is still alive!” exclaims Comet. “No matter how much pain he’s in, he refuses to give in! This is exactly why Citizen Night has become such a force to be reckoned with!”

 

“What about Toxx-”

 

“Shut up, Robert!”

 

Dace fires a stiff elbow into the Barracuda’s ribs, grabbing an “Oof!” from Johnny, and then a second shot! Johnny lets go of the White Night, stumbling back as he grabs his burning side. Dace storms across the ring and hits the far ropes then comes rocketing back towards his opponent, leading with his deadly leg!

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAKU-”

 

NOOOOOOO!!! Dace swings his foot up to paste Johnny with a sickening Yakuza Kick, but at the very last second possible, or even imaginable, Dangerous strafes to the side! The Kick goes sailing straight past him, nearly grazing him across the nose, but equally missing its intended target! Fuming, the White Night spins back around, determined not to let the Barracuda slip away like the slimy fish that he is when…

 

KA-RAAAACK!!

 

Johnny nails the Brummie Goth squarely in the chin with a devastating super kick!

 

“Johnny Kick!” exclaims Comet, as Dace is floored to the canvas, landing spread eagle on his back. “Citizen Night missed with his Yakuza Kick, but Agent Dangerous made sure to connect with his!”

 

Johnny doesn’t even waste the time with a pinning attempt. Instead he glides towards the nearest corner and climbs to the top, his back to the ring. The fans leap to their feet in excitement and Johnny pays his dues with one quick pump of his fist to them before back-flipping off the turnbuckle!

 

“DEATH FROOOOOOM ABOOOVE~!” shouts Comet, as Johnny flips through the air and unfolds directly over the Brummie Goth then…

 

WHAAAM!!

 

…lands feet-first into Night’s chest to an “OOOOH!” from the crowd!

 

“OW!” Comet winces at the impact. “What a tremendous hit by Agent Dangerous! This could be over!”

 

Normally the Barracuda would land as graceful as an Olympic gymnast, but Dace thrashes so violently when Johnny lands that it tosses him off! Not that it matters, as Dangerous quickly scrambles back over his opponent and drops over him. As expected, the referee drops to count for…

 

 

ONEEEE!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“After the Flesh” begins to make its victory sweep of the arena, ferociously pounding from the speakers as the crowd cheers on the efforts of both men! Hall grabs Johnny and helps him to his feet then grabs his arm and raises it in victory.

 

“The winner of this match by pin-fall,” booms Funyon, “JOOOOHN-NY ‘THE BAAARRAAAAAACUDAAA’ DAAAAANGEROUUUS!!!”

 

“By Zeus!” exclaims Comet. “What a match that was! Agent Dangerous gave Dace Night everything he had and in the end his persistence paid off!”

 

Dace rolls up to his knees, clutching his chest. He hears the music and the announcement then lets out an exasperated sigh. Nonetheless, he climbs up to his feet and staggers over towards Johnny, pulling one hand away from his chest to offer up a congratulatory handshake. Johnny accepts the hand, relieved that the White Night wasn’t coming in to dish out a beating, and gives Dace a firm handshake. They exchange a nod and then Dace simply turns around and exits the ring.

 

“Oh, God,” groans Bobby, simply appalled at the situation. “Why must I be tortured by such sappy moments as this? This is simply disgusting!”

 

“So says the man with a questionable lifestyle,” replies Comet. “Situations like this are what keep this federation turning. I for one applaud the good sportsmanship presented by these two.”

 

“At least I still have the next match to look forward too. Surely that will end on a more venomous note.”

 

“I’m sure it will so stay tuned, Citizens--we still have plenty more for to feast your eyes on! Coming up next; Landon Maddix and Ace Lezaire square off in a submissions match,” Comet shills, as the cameras follow a stunned Johnny Dangerous making his way up the ramp. He holds one fist out high to the crowd…

 

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT.

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*BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!*

 

The bass-lines of Muse's "Hyper Music" strike through the American West Arena, providing us with a rather abrupt return to SWF Smarkdown. Instantly the crowd break out into boos and jeers, as Ace Lezaire steps through the curtain and stands tall at the top of the stage with his hands outstretched...

 

 

*BOOOOOOOM!*

 

...as pyro erupts from either side of him.

 

"Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown...Cyclone Comet here with Bobby Riley, with Ace Lezaire on his way to the ring." Comet greets us. "A very interesting match upcoming which we'll talk more about, right after Funyon earns his money."

 

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following non title contest will be a SUBMISSIONS MATCH! There will be no disqualifications, no count-outs...and the only way to win is to make the opponent either say 'I Quit' or to make them tap-out. Introducing first...from Vancouver, British Columbia. He weighs in at two hundred and thirty four pounds. "THE PRODIGY"... AAAAAAAACCCEEEEEEE LEEZZZAAIIRRRREEEEE!!!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

Another walls of jeers hit Canada's Greatest Hope, who greets them with a cheesy double-thumbs up and a toothy grin...which of course only multiplies the hate. But still Ace smiles on, either ignoring or mis-reading the reaction he's recieving.

 

"Yes...it's submission match time." Comet re-iterates. "As I said earlier, a very interesting match with a lot of interesting factors. This match is non-title...and it is a submissions match, as requested by Chris Card. Presumably, the stipulation is more suited to Citizen Lezaire than to Citizen Maddix which begs the question 'what was Card thinking?'".

 

"Card is thinking money." Riley answers confidentally. "Card is always thinking money...and if Landon can prove you and the world wrong here, he will be money. Simple as that."

 

"Yes, but Landon Maddix's submission knowledge is...limited, shall we say. Ace Lezaire is, despite his youth and ego, a more controlled wrestler than his opponent...who also has youth and ego in abundance."

 

"Don't underestimate the ICTV Champion Comet."

 

"I think I already have..."

 

Ace finally slides into the ring, posing once more for his 'fans' who respond again with jeers. A worried looking Steve quickly turns the volume down on his camera, trying to cut out the background noise, as Ace begins to discuss dealings with referee Sexton Hardcastle...

 

 

 

 

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

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

...as suddenly "Megalomaniac" by Incubus begins to revurberate through the American West Arena, to another chorus of boos from the fans. From the ring, Ace sneers and informs Steve to keep the camera firmly pointed on him (as if it wasn't already), while Landon Maddix emerges through the curtains with his ICTV Championship held high in the air. Waiting for him are the continued boos from the crowd. But he could care less, simply sneering himself. Meanwhile behind the curtains ripple again and out emerge Chris Card and Natasha...with no Megan Skye with them.

 

"And the opponent. Accompanied to the ring by Chris Card, Natasha and Meg..."

 

Funyon stops, looks and shrugs.

 

"...from Huron, South Dakota. He weighs two hundred and ten pounds and is the current SWF Intercontinental Television Champion... LAAAAANDOOOOON! "LA CUCARACHA"! MAAAAAADDIIIIIXXXX!!!!"

 

Again Maddix raises his ICTV Title proudly in the air, with his nose stuck firmly up in the air as he looks into the crowd.

 

"Megan Skye noteable in her absence..." ponders Comet. "Rather odd."

 

"Why is it odd? Chris and Natasha are still here..."

 

"Well, Megan is nearly always by Landon's side. It just seems a little...odd. We know she's in the arena."

 

"...maybe Megan fell asleep listening to your commentary."

 

Maddix reaches the ring, taking a right turn before striding up the steps...Ace watching all this with a continued sneer on his face. Into the ring leaps Maddix, raising his belt once more. But before he knows what's hit him, he finds himself flying back out of the ring courtesy of a charging Lezaire!

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

"And an abrupt start to this match!" Comet booms as Lezaire quickly rolls out of the ring. "Citizen Lezaire wasting no time here!"

 

Ace follows Maddix out to the floor, grabbing the ICTV Champion and hurling him forward into the steel barricade. Maddix hits hard ribs first, as Ace shows no let-up and drives in a kick to the ribs, followed up by a second and then a right hand. Watching on from a foot away Card decides not to get involved, as Ace takes Maddix...

 

*CRACK!*

 

...and slams his head into the steel steps! Recoiling, Maddix feels Ace go for him again and quickly dives into the ring and relative safety. Not for long though, as Ace rolls back in with him.

 

 

Maddix quickly gets to his feet and tries to grab Ace before he can do the same, but Ace expertly switches behind Maddix, schoolboying him over. Of course pinfalls don't count. But Ace is a step ahead of the game, changing the schoolboy into a quick boston crab attempt.

 

"OH! This could be a quick night for Maddix!" Comet exclaims.

 

Frantically Maddix starts to pump his legs back and forth, making it harder for Lezaire to lock the hold in. Regardless, Ace continues to try, not one to give up without a fight. Eventually Maddix manages to free one leg, using that to push Lezaire backwards. Hitting the ropes, Lezaire comes back as Maddix lifts his legs back up...and Lezaire catches him again, again attempting the boston crab! But again Maddix kicks and struggles, until he frees a leg and kicks Ace back...

 

 

...only this time, Ace hangs onto that leg, stopping his backward momentum. It also leaves Maddix in a predicament, as Lezaire lines up the leg and fires off a kick. Ace hangs on and lashes the knee with another kick. A third kick is snapped off moments later, but Maddix fires straight back with his free left leg, kicking the back of Lezaire's right. That causes Ace to release Maddix, who quickly rolls away from Ace and towards a neutral corner.

 

"That may very well be the weak point for Landon Maddix...the right knee." observes Comet. "Johnny Dangerous worked on that to full effect at Ground Zero, and it surely cannot be at 100% yet."

 

"Well, not after Lezaire's kicked it three times, no."

 

With the match at a breif stalemate, Ace takes a moment to mug for Steve and his camera while Landon ducks his head out of the ring and talks things over with Card.

 

 

"YOU BOTH SUCK! YOU BOTH SUCK! YOU BOTH SUCK!"

 

The crowd pull no punches on their opinions, as both men exit their corners and throw up guards in the centre of the ring. First to break his is Landon, dropping and shooting for Ace's legs. Looking for a single-leg takedown, Landon gets nothing so alters and uses a double-leg to take Lezaire to the mat. Hitting the mat, Ace instinctively floats onto his front as Landon leaps over Ace's legs and lands in position to apply a front-facelock. He does so, but far from expertly, and Ace finds it more than easy to spin out and clamp and armbar on Maddix. Maddix pulls himself to his hand and knees, as suddenly Ace looks to change the armbar into a chickenwing. Reacting, Landon scrambles his arm free and turns onto his front, punching Ace in the gut. Ace doubles over, as Maddix kips-up into a hurricanrana which sends Ace flying forward, landing throat first on the middle rope!

 

"Fantastic athleticism from the ICTV Champion!" Riley gushes.

 

"And now, Ace lays in perfect condition for some more athleticism."

 

Seeing that for the first time, Landon smiles to himself as he hits the ropes, shooting back and hooking top and middle to swing with the...

 

 

 

 

6...

 

 

 

 

0...

 

 

 

...NO! Ace ducks and Landon swings harmlessly around. Landing on his feet, Maddix takes a moment to gain his bearings. That moment is all Ace needs to dive forward, spearing Maddix down to the mat! With Maddix down, Lezaire reaches for the arm of the ICTV Champ and locks fingers with him. Already dazed, Landon fails to react until Ace bends back the arm, locking it in a keylock style move.

 

"Ace going right back for the submission and it seems he smells a quick victory tonight." Comet points out.

 

With the keylock on, Ace tries to move his body-weight on top of Landon's. But the quicker Maddix shoots his body around and begins a fight to his feet. Ace keeps the keylock on, managing to couple in a handful of hair to force Maddix back towards the corner and into the turnbuckles. With No DQ's, Hardcastle is not obliged to call for a break, allowing Ace to force Maddix deep into the corner...

 

"OOOOOF!"

 

...and drive a knee into the gut, driving the air out of Maddix.

 

"OOOOOF!"

 

...and a second knee, with the same results.

 

"No breaks in this match of course." Comet re-iterates.

 

"Apart of course from bones...a few of Landon's ribs might fall into that category after those knees."

 

Releasing the keylock, Lezaire smashes Maddix in the jaw with a forearm before posing for the crowd. But suddenly Maddix snaps out of the corner, catching Lezaire by surprise and armdrags him across the ring! Ace lands and rolls to his feet, as Maddix takes a brief run-up...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...only to meet a spinning back kick to the jaw from Lezaire!

 

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Landon takes the kick FLUSH on the jaw and flops to the canvas. Ace meanwhile learns his lesson from before a forgoes a pose, instead going after the right leg of Maddix and lifting it into the air. No reaction comes from the dazed Maddix, so Ace drops a vicious knee across his hamstring which wakes him up. Keeping the leg held, Ace drags Maddix a little way out from the ropes and drops a second knee to the hamstring area, before spinning around the held leg and attempting the figure four...

 

 

...but Landon plants a foot in Ace's ass, using that to push The Sovereign of Swagger off into the ropes. Ace hits them but hangs on, as Maddix takes his time about getting to his feet. Meanwhile Ace finally leaves the ropes, twisting through 360 degrees and attempting a running Cyclone Elbow. But Maddix reads it, ducking the elbow and countering with a knee to the back, before flipping over Lezaire and driving his face into the canvas with the Throwback!

 

"Ha Ha! You Can't See Landon Maddix!"

 

"Robert, that could be misconstrued as gimmick infringement you know."

 

"Hey, if that's gimmick infringement then maybe I should give Shane Helms a phonecall."

 

"Shane Helms..." Comet says, with gritted teeth. "...my mortal enemy."

 

"Huh? I thought I was your mortal enemy."

 

"No...you just suck."

 

Rolling through the Throwback, Maddix has already exited to the apron and is shaking himself loose as he readies to spring. Slowly Ace recovers and begins to get to his feet, despite the remonstrations from Steve and turns slowly around. As he does, Maddix launches into the air and springboards off the top...

 

 

 

*smack!*

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!"

 

 

...but lands with one leg either side of Lezaire's raised boot!!!

 

 

"Blatant, BLATANT lowblow by Ace Lezaire." Comet sighs disapprovingly.

 

"Doesn't matter Comet. No disqualifications. Heck, if Ace wanted to, he could kick Maddix in the crotch until he submits."

 

"I wouldn't put it past him..."

 

Maddix's body locks and collapses slowly to the side as Card winces and Natasha covers her eyes, neither looking too happy with the turn of events. Ace, meanwhile, reacts quickly and begins to stomp away on Maddix's prone body with the crowd booing him with every connecting stomp. Eventually the stomps halt and Ace grabs Maddix by the hair, taking his time about pulling the ICTV Champion up to his feet. Maddix is now relying on Lezaire to keep him on his feet, but Lezaire has other ideas...namely a knee to the gut. Maddix doubles over, as Ace hooks up Maddix and takes him over with a textbook vertical suplex.

 

"LEZAIRE SUCKS! LEZAIRE SUCKS! LEZAIRE SUCKS!"

 

Hearing the chants, Ace gives the crowd a big thumbs up and waves to one bunch of fans in particular...one of which holding an "Ace is a Lez-bian" sign. Meanwhile, Maddix trying to fight back to his feet. But he only reaches one knee before Lezaire strides over and drives a forearm across the back of the neck. Landon fires back with a right hand to the gut, but takes another forearm and then finds himself clamped in a tight front facelock.

 

 

"I must say, so far these two men are surprising me." says Comet. "Both have shown a solid basic knowledge of mat work...Ace made an attempt to go after the knee, albeit briefly."

 

"And here you were labelling Landon as a spot-monkey..."

 

"I didn't label him anything."

 

"No, but only because you want a job tommorrow morning."

 

Determined as ever, Landon fights the pain and pulls himself to his feet, still in the front facelock. Ace tightens up the hold, looking to nulify any fightback before it can begin, not wanting to allow Maddix back into the match. But still Maddix remains on his feet. So Ace quickly releases the facelock, almost a quickly snapping his right leg up...

 

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...connecting with an old school kneelift that sends Maddix flying backwards and rolling into a face down position.

 

"LEZAIRE SUCKS! LEZAIRE SUCKS! LEZAIRE SUCKS!"

 

But still the fans aren't impressed, so Ace quickly follows up with a legdrop to the back of the head. Landon's body jolts on impact, but he has little time to recover before Ace rolls to the side and towards the legs of the ICTV Champion, placing one quickly over the other. Landon knows what's coming but his locked legs prevent any escape, as Ace reaches forward and locks Landon into the Cross STF submission!

 

"And here we go with the submission attempt!" Comet says excitedly. "The Cross STF is applied and Landon has to find some way of escaping!"

 

"Which is easier said than done! He's all tied-up, with no rope breaks available to him!"

 

Landon's eyes light up like saucers as he realises he's trapped and as the pain instantly kicks in. Ace meanwhile has a grin stretching from ear to ear, as he tightens up the hold. All Card and Natasha can do, or rather are doing, is watch on in horror as Maddix starts to reach out in desperation, scratching and clawing for some traction to pull himself towards the ropes. But Ace hangs on like a pitbull, wrecnhing back on Maddix's head which is now lighting up in pain. His neck is slowly but surely being taken to the limit and he just doesn't have enough to move 440 plus pounds with his legs crossed and locked.

 

"Citizen Maddix has got a dillema here...I'm sure he has the energy to hang on. But is there any reason to, if he can't reach the ropes. And even then, Ace doesn't have to break until he's good and ready!"

 

With seemingly no hope in sight, Maddix turns his head towards towards Card who is watching all this with his hand in his mouth and nails between his teeth. But despite the No Disqualifications ruling, Card decides not to enter the ring. Maddix is almost begging him to do so, but he stands steady, not interjecting himself for some reason. So, Landon gives up on Card and starts to rock from side to side in order to turn out of the hold. Feeling the rocking, Ace knows just what to do though, as he lets go of the front facelock and starts to lock Maddix's arms into a double chickenwing!

 

"Oh no...he's going for Perfection Or Vanity!" Riley wails.

 

"Well, this is what he did to Jamie Drazon at Ground Zero...and this time, there's no Dace Night to break the hold up!"

 

"No, but there IS Chris Card!"

 

But Card is still standing and watching, as Ace slowly begins to untangle his legs from Maddix's, before pushing onto his toes ready to float over...

 

 

 

...but Maddix suddenly thrusts his leg upwards, catching Ace LOOOOOW!

 

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

The crowd groan, feeling Ace's man-pain. Ace feels it even worse however, and the shock causes him to release one of the chickenwings on Maddix's arm. With that now free arm Landon fires back a series of quick back elbow strikes, until Ace releases the other chickenwing and rolls off of Maddix's back, holding his nose with his eyes watering like opened faucets.

 

"A blatant lowblow from Maddix...I hate these No Disqualification matches." sighs Comet.

 

Maddix struggles up to his feet and glares down at Card, who seemingly doesn't notice and applaudes on his ICTV Champion as he turns around. Ace is back up to and suddenly ducks behind Maddix, locking him in a waistlock and attempting a german suplex. Maddix locks his legs around Ace's to block though and fires some moe elbows towards the bridge of Ace's nose. About four or five connect before Ace finally releases Maddix, who instantly sprints towards the ropes. Or rather he tries, but his knee tweaks halfway, limiting his sprint to 'medium jog'. Back he comes still, as Lezaire swings and misses with a spinning back kick...

 

 

 

 

...and gets locked in the Land Of Nod!

 

 

"And now it's Maddix with the submission hold locked in!" Comet exclaims. "From out of nowhere."

 

Ace tries to move towards the ropes as soon as the move is in, but soon finds himself toppling to the mat and landing sideways on, allowing Maddix to wrap in a body-scissors and really clamp in the hold!

 

"Well, this is a nice move for sure, but can he get the tap?"

 

"Of course he can!"

 

"I'm not so sure Robert. After all, this move is designed to put someone to sleep rather than simply make them submit...so it's a matter of making Ace tap before he passes out."

 

Maddix wrenches back again on the hold and it seems Ace is weakening already, his arm going slightly limp to his side and his eyes glazing over as he looks into the eyes of a questioning Hardcastle.

 

"There's really nowhere for Ace to go here." points out Comet. "But if he passes out, then he..."

 

 

 

 

*TAP TAP TAP TAP!*

 

"...well, that shut me up..."

 

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

Slightly surpised at the speed of his victory, Maddix releases the dragon clutch and punches the air as Card and Natasha join him in the ring.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission... The SWF Intercontinental Television Champion... LAAAAAANDDOOOOON "LA CUCARACHA" MAAAAADDDDIIIIIIXXXXXXX!!!"

 

"A comfortable win for Maddix...SHOCKINGLY comfortable." Comet says in a state of befuddlement.

 

Card goes to congratulate Maddix and raises his arm in the air, only for Maddix to pull it away and send a tongue lashing Card's way for his lack of interference. Natasha quickly intervenes though, passing the ICTV Title belt to Card, who passes it to Maddix...and the two settle their brief differences with a handshake, before Card again raises Maddix's hand.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

"There is your champion Comet! There is your ICTV Champion! What a win!"

 

"Well, I must agree Robert. I am impressed with Landon Maddix for simply winning this match, let alone so...well...so quickly."

 

"Well, I dunno what Ace Lezaire's problem was tonight but he didn't last long. There may be a story there we don't know about..."

 

Leaving the ring, the smiling Maddix raises his belt into the air as Card looks to Natasha...and gulps noticeably, seemingly a little surprised at his client's profficiency himself. Meanwhile, SWF Smarkdown goes to a commercial break.

 

 

And everybody thanks their lucky stars Maddix doesn't know what a haiku is.

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A camera inside the American West Arena in Phoenix, Arizona pans around the live audience. The individual faces in the crowd blend together due to the rate of speed at which the camera moves. The shot settles down on the announce table, where an excited bobby Riley sits next to a more demure Cyclone Comet.

 

Riley speaks up where his partner usually announces, "And welcome back to SWF Smarkdown!! I'm Bobby Riley and my superhero sidekick is feeling blue! Why, you ask?"

 

As Riley opens his mouth to answer himself, Comet suddenly sits up and raises a hand, effectively cutting off Bobby's next sentence. "Let's not go there, Bobbo. It will remain off camera." Cyclone forces a smile at the TV viewers, and within seconds, the smile becomes genuine. "We're live in HOT Phoenix, Arizona tonight!"

 

"The action has been tonight, too," pipes in Riley.

 

A nod from Comet satisfies Bobby, and the masked crusader continues, "Next up, SWF Cruiserweight Champion Tom Flesher comes off a successful title defense to face Revolution Zero's Hardcore Gamer's Champion, Sean Davis. To throw a twist in Tom's panties, 'Hollywood' Spike Jenkins will be our Special Guest Referee."

 

"Tom can't win!" whines Bobby! "Spike said earlier on the show that he will REFUSE to count pinfalls for the Superior One! My head's spinning! It's so unfair!"

 

Comet just chuckles as the camera cuts away and to the entryway. Funyon announces as the fans begin to boo loudly!

 

"Laaaaadies and gentlemen!! The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing the SPECIAL! GUEST! REFEREEE!! 'HOLLLLLLLYWOOD' SPIKE JEEEEENKINS!!"

 

The techno beats of "Sandstorm" by Darude begin thumping over the speakers as a blast of white pyro surprises the fans in the sections closest to the stage! Spike steps out from behind the curtain, the biggest shit-eating grin ever plastered on his face. Complimenting his normal gear tonight is a black and white striped officiating jersey.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

Jenkins raises his fists to the crowd, giving them a short 'whoo' before exclaiming, "Who's got the power now?!" A cackle escapes his lips as he heads down the ramp, mocking the fans with faked hand slaps. Spike climbs the stairs and steps into the ring, bouncing on his toes as he again holds his arms up in self-proclaimed victory.

 

"I must admit, Robert, Commissioner Zenon has unfairly stacked the deck against Citizen Flesher. Not only is Citizen Jenkins in league with Citizen Davis and the nefarious Revolution Zero, but he also covets the Cruiserweight Championship that Citizen Flesher has stolen from under his nose!" explains Comet excitedly!

 

Riley rebuffs, "Well, I'll agree with you on the unfairly stacked part, but Tom rightfully won that match against Spike! And he's even successfully defended the title against Austin Sly!"

 

Darude's techno theme fades from the speakers and the Smarktron blacks out for a moment, before being replaced with a video montage of the Ego Buster on wrestler after wrestler, Tom Flesher raising his arms victoriously time and time again, a shot of him with the Cruiserweight belt, and the words 'Superior One' and 'Tom Flesher' flashing in and out of sight as "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin hits the speakers!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

The roar of the fans almost deafens Tom's them as he steps out onto the stage, Cruiserweight title nonchalantly draped over one shoulder, and Allison ever present at his side.

 

Funyon booms to the crowd, "And introducing first!! From Buffalo, New York!! Weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds.. accompanied to the ring by ALLLLLISON OOOOONITAA!! YOUR! SWF!! CRUUUUUUUUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION!! He is 'THE SUPERIO ONE'! TOMMM!! FLESSSSSSSSHER!!"

 

The fans continue to throw their hatred Tom's way as he heads down the ramp and to the ring. He casually flips the title off his shoulder and lets Allison take it before it hits the ground. Flesher's facial expression reads pure determination, yet he looks grim. Tom stops before entering the ring, look up at Special Guest Referee Jenkins. Spike just smirks down at Tom, nodding his head.

 

"Yeah," the ring mic picks up Spike uttering at Tom. "You'd better get your sorry ass into this ring! I'll count you out faster than Allison can unbutton your fly!"

 

"What a cheap shot!" complains Riley!

 

Comet is heard sighing, "Now we see how this match will go.. and it hasn't even begun."

 

Allison gently massages Tom's shoulder as they both glare up into the ring. He shrugs her hands off and circles around the outside of the ring, more than aware that entering the ring right now could spell trouble. "Kashmir" fades from the speakers and the lights in the arena slowly dim. A low rumbling thunder is heard, like a big storm moving into the area. Out of nowhere, two streaks of pyro flash from ceiling to stage, exploding on the corners of the stage! A loud thunderclap awes the crowd and lines of fire blaze up, bordering the stage. "F.E." by 40 Below Summer kicks up and the fans in the American West Arena once again show their negativity in abundance as Sean Davis and Marcus Washing step onto the top of the ramp!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

"And his opponent!! From Jacksonville, Florida!! Weighing in at two hundred and seventy pounds! He is accompanied by MAARCUS WAAASHINGTONG!! Representing REVVVVVOLUTION ZEEEERO!! THE SWF HARDCOOOOORE GAMERS' CHAMPION!! THE! PERFECT! STORM! SEAAAAAANN DAAAVISSS!!"

 

As Funyon scurries out of the ring, Davis makes his way quickly down the ramp. He ascends the stairs at the corner of the ring and then climbs over the top rope and into the ring. Sean unstraps the Hardcore belt from around his waist and raises it high over his head, for the whole world to see. Davis passes the belt over to Spike, who then relays it to the timekeeper. Jenkins motions Tom in the ring, but Flesher takes the Cruiserweight belt back from Allison, then personally hands the title to the timekeeper!

 

"Tom's rubbing that salt deep into Spike's wound!" comments Riley!

 

"Citizen Jenkins looks rather upset, Bobbo," states Comet. "That's not a place you want your referee to be. Citizen Jenkins persuading The Superior One to get into the ring.. "

 

Jenkins gives Tom one more wave into the ring, before pointing at the timekeeper! "Ring the bell!" he shouts! The man with the bell obliges.

 

DING! DING! DING!!

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

Spike beings counting Flesher out right away!!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

"SIX!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

Flesher slides quickly into the ring, not about to be outsmarted by this self-proclaimed champion, but he's met with big boots from Sean Davis! Tom covers his head to protect himself from the barrage of soles, and Davis lets up a moment to grabs Tom by the jaw, helping him to his feet. Flesher gets to his feet, but before straightening, he throws a Doc Marten into Sean's stomach! The Perfect Storm doubles over and Tom applies a facelock, pulling Davis down for a DDT! In the middle of the ring now, Tom quickly moves up to his feet and grabs Sean's left leg, dropping his elbow right onto Davis's knee! Sean grunts as Tom keeps hold of his knee, applying a kneelock!

 

"What a devious plot by Citizen Jenkins!" exclaims Comet!

 

"For once, I agree with you! Mark it on the calendar," Riley instructs Cyclone Comet.

 

Comet shakes his head, "We've agreed a few more times than this.. "

 

"Yeah, right. Name one."

 

"Why just earlier tonight.. "

 

"Not uh!" an exasperated and bewildered Riley breathes.

 

Before Tom can even begin to torque Sean's knee, Spike steps in and commands, "Release the hold!"

 

"What?!" questions Tom.

 

"Illegal submission! Let him go!"

 

Flesher has a look of pure disbelief on his face, but only momentarily. He steels his lips and holds onto Sean's leg as the Perfect Storm groans in pain! Jenkins begins counting.

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

And at the last second, Tom breaks the submission hold, but does not let go of Davis's leg. Sean breathes a sigh of relief, but the feeling doesn't last long. The submission expert gets quickly to his feet and folds over one of Sean's legs, before turning Davis over into a Texas cloverleaf!

 

"What a beautiful transition from Tom Flesher!" gushes Bobby! "Superior Stretch, baby!"

 

Once again, Jenkins is right there on top of Flesher, shouting at him to release the submission!

 

"What?" asks Tom. "This one's illegal, too!?"

 

"You can't win by submission!" Spike informs Flesher! "Release the hold!"

 

And again, Tom refuses with a grim shake of his head. He figures that if he can't win by submission, at least he'll wear down Davis, and maybe he can try a sleeper later on, and Davis will pass out. That's a win even if it is a loss. Flesher nods his head along with Spike's second count.

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

And Tom drops Davis to the mat. Flesher wastes no time, however, and helps Davis up by the chin. Tom lands a solid shotei to Sean's upper chest to keep him off balance, then maneuvers the big guy around, locking him in an abdominal stretch! Sean grits his teeth in pain as Flesher digs his elbow into Davis's ribcage. Spike goes right into a count for Tom to let go.

 

"ONE!"

 

BOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

"THREE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

Flesher shoves Davis forward and the Perfect Storm gasps for air, holding his side. Spike confronts Tom before he can continue an attack on Davis.

 

"I told you, no submissions, Mister Flesher!"

 

"Why the hell not?!" Tom shoots back at the ref! "You're so goddamned worried about me kicking your friend's ass – which I'm going to do – that you can't even call this match fair!"

 

Spike looks appalled that Flesher would talk back to him! "I'm not going to call this match fair because you're not going to win, one way or another, chump!"

 

"So why am I even here?" Tom asks rhetorically.

 

Jenkins gets even more into Tom's face, a finger pointed menacingly at him, "To make you suffer!"

 

Flesher smirks and just backs off. He knows better than that. Tom turns to Davis, who has gotten to one knee. Tom reaches to grab Sean by the jaw and help him up, but Sean throws a forearm up between Tom's legs!

 

"And the argument is over.. Low Blow!!" shouts Comet!

 

"So where's the call, ref?!" Riley wonders pointedly!

 

As Tom crunches over, a hand cupping his superior ones, Davis gets to his feet and pulls Flesher into a standing headscissors. With ease, Sean wrenches Tom up onto his shoulders, and then slams him back first to the mat! Jenkins cheers with the powerbomb and urges another big move from his tag partner! Davis obliges by helping Tom to his feet, Tom's back to Davis. Sean grabs Tom into a Full Nelson and lifts his opponent high into the air, before stepping forward and dropping Flesher tailbone first onto his knee!! Flesher again knocks his knees together and falls forward. Davis immediately sits down on Flesher's back, snakes his arms around Tom's for a Full Nelson, and pulls back on the Cruiserweight Champion!

 

Spike leans in to hear Tom's short yelp, then calls for the bell!

 

"What is up with that?!" exclaims Riley!!

 

DING! DING! DING!!

 

"F.E." kicks up as Sean pulls harder on Tom, who continues to groan in pain! Jenkins cackles and hops like a madman, clapping to keep Davis going! Allison slaps her hands on the mat, begging for Tom's release! Spike taps Davis on the shoulder, and Sean gets up, leaving a winded Tom on the mat.

 

"Your winner, by submission.. SEEEAAANN DAAAVISS!!" Funyon announces.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

"I couldn't agree with these fans more, Robert."

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The camera pans around the arena, catching the frenzied faces of the thousand of fans in attendance, all of whom are utterly psyched for tonight's contest! On the SmarkTron, the graphic for this match can be seen; on the left side, a smirking Mike Van Siclen, his arms folded confidently across his chest, standing next to the dark and shadowy Masked Man, giving a thumbs-up. Between the two men stands Todd Cortez, his arms crossed in an X in front of his chest. On the right side of the screen, Andrea Montgomery and the Birdman pose, Andrea with her right arm flexed, the Birdman with his wings spread wide. Standing behind them is Justin Bowers, arms folded and silent as "Justice" William Hearford watches from a distance. The title underneath says it all.

 

"MASK, MVS & CORTEZ VS. BOWERS, ANDREA, & BIRDMAN -- TONIGHT!"

 

"Welcome back, ladies and gents!" Bobby Riley's voice comes pouring through television sets across America, as the effeminate announcer is more than ready to get things rolling. "Bobby Riley here, alongside my broadcast partner the Cyclone Comet, and in tonight's main event, we have an absolute knockout of a tag match, as the team of Andrea Montgomery, Justin Bowers and the Birdman will find themselves going up against the Masked Man and the SWF Tag Team champions, Hollywood Boulevard!"

 

"This match will mark the second time that Mike and the Masked Man will find themselves in the same ring in as many shows," Comet says, giddy, "only this time they find themselves on the same side of the ring, teaming with BOTH men's tag team partner, Todd Cortez! Bobbo, all the interest in this tag match seems to be on the 42nd Street side of the ring!"

 

"The Hollywood Boulevard side of the ring," Riley says disdainfully, "and the focus on their saga is well-deserved! After all, it was 42nd Street that defeated Montgomery and the Birdman, and as wacky as you may be, Comet, even you must agree that Mike Van Siclen is a much better third man than Justin Bowers..."

 

"...even so, Bobbo," Comet shoots back, "the chemistry for 42nd Boulevard will not be there, solely because Van Siclen can't let his grudge against the Masked Man go! There is nothing coming between the three members of Justice and Flip Flop, and that should lead them to victory here!"

 

*BOOM!* *BOOM!*

 

Justin Bowers' signature two blasts of pyro on either side of the stage go off, followed by...

 

"LET'S GET RETARDED IN HERE!"

 

"Let's Get Retarded" by the Black Eyed Peas hits the speakers, and the crowd erupts as Andrea Montgomery, the Birdman, and Justin Bowers steps through the curtain, all three wearing matching black trenchcoats and sunglasses! They begin their walk down the ramp, "Justice" William Hearford following behind and shaking his head as the threesome slide into the ring, shedding the trenchcoats and dark shades and going into an elaborate three-person pose! The crowd roars as Hearford stands outside the ring, watching his protégé calmly from the outside.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Funyon's voice booms over the P.A. system, "The following contest is a six-man tag team match scheduled for ONE fall! Introducing first, being accompanied to the ring by 'Justice' William Hearford, at a combined weight of five-hundred and eighty-four pounds, Justin Bowers, Andrea Montgomery, and the BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRD - MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

 

The crowd roars appreciatively as the three wrestlers continue to pose, but they are cut off by...

 

"STOP!"

 

"Continue!"

 

"Improper Dancing" by the Electric Six, and the crowd roars even louder for the exciting brand of modern disco -- and roars even louder as the Masked Man steps through the curtain! The cheering lessens slightly as Todd Cortez and Mike Van Siclen step out, the SWF Tag Team championships around their respective waists as the threesome stroll down to the ring, Van Siclen unstrapping his tag belt as he walks and slinging it over his shoulder. The three men walk single-file up the stairs, Van Siclen entering the ring first. The Masked Man holds the ropes open for a somewhat amused Todd Cortez before entering himself. The three men go over to their corner, obviously discussing the match, as Funyon makes the intro.

 

"And their opponents, at a combined weight of seven-hundred and ten pounds, the Masked Man," Funyon pauses as the crowd erupts, letting their noise die down before continuing, "and your S - W - F TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, Mike Van Siclen and the Urban Legend, TOOOOOOODD COOOOOOOOR-TEEEEEEEEEEEZ!"

 

In their corner, Van Siclen is yelling at Masked Man about something, and Todd Cortez tries to play peacemaker between he and the Masked Man. By contrast, the Mask is somewhat subdued, keeping his mouth shut. And by contrast again, the Team Flip Flop corner is pretty clm, the threesome eagerly discussing who will start the match for them. The referee, Mike Soapdish, grabs the Tag championships from Van Siclen and Cortez, handing them to a ring attendant, and then calls for the bell.

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

Bowers, eager to show that he’s in this to win it, asks his partners to let him be the first one in for his team. Across the ring, things aren’t going that well, as Masked Man attempts to engage Todd Cortez in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, much as they did during their tenure as 42nd Street. Agitated by the take charge attitude of the former substitute tag champ, Mike Van Siclen spins Mask around and asks him what he thinks he’s doing. Politely, Masked Man asks Mike if he’d like to be the one to “shoot” for the spot, but an already-angry Van Siclen quickly ushers both his partner and the thorn in his side out to the apron, cutting off any fun and games from the Masked Superstar before they begin.

 

"We’re just getting underway now, Robert, and already Mike Van Siclen looks as if he’d like to neuter Masked Man."

 

"I’ve heard in some cultures, that’s a sign of affection."

 

Van Siclen turns to Bowers, who is warming up in his corner, and waves him on, impatiently awaiting on the rookie to advance. Bowers comes in closer, and Van Siclen channels the spirit of DJ Ran by getting all up in his area by asking Bowers several questions.

 

"Who are you, huh? You think you hang with me? You’re nothing kid, and you’re not gonna get one over on me tonight."

 

Bowers shrugs off the trash talk and backs up, lifting his hands up to signal for a lockup. Van Siclen smirks, and lifts his hands up as well… but at the last second fires off a sucker punch that catches the youngster off guard! Bowers stumbles back a few steps, and Van Siclen stays on him, backing him into the ropes and propelling him to the other side with an Irish Whip, catching him on the rebound and elevating the youngster up in the air with a back bodydrop! Van Siclen turns, charging at the fallen youngster, but is caught with a drop toehold by the quick thinking Justin, who then slides across Mike’s back and wraps his right arm around his head and pulls him up in a front facelock.

 

Instinctively, Mike pushes off, sending Bowers back into the corner. Van Siclen charges in, looking to crush the rookie against the turnbuckle pads, but Justin ducks out at the last second…and Van Siclen quickly puts the brakes on, avoiding the collision with the corner! Little does he know that Bowers is up on his feet behind him, and the upstart leaps up, showcasing his agility by hitting a beautiful standing dropkick that catches Mike right between the shoulder blades and sends him stumbling forward into the corner!

 

"Textbook dropkick from Bowers!" Comet calls. "Man, that's one beautiful dropkick that Citizen Bowers has!"

 

Justin takes Mike by the head and brings him back out of the corner, setting him up for a Russian legsweep, but Van Siclen fires an elbow up into his jaw! Bowers shakes off the blow, continuing his setup, but a second elbow sends Bowers reeling. The rookie wipes his lips, checking for blood, and as he does this Mike turns, letting loose with a wild lariat -- but Bowers ducks and runs the ropes, ducking under yet another lariat on the rebound, as Van Siclen whiffs on his second try!

 

Bowers uses the momentum to again run the ropes, continuing on to the far side and rebounding off, leaping into the air and flattening Mike Van Siclen with a picture-perfect bodypress! Mike quickly pushes Bowers up off of him before the referee can administer a count, and scrambles to his feet, backing himself into his own corner. Bowers stays in the ready stance, knowing that Van Siclen is a master of trickery, but the aggravated veteran decides he’s had enough, and tags in Todd Cortez.

 

"Justin Bowers is full of fire here tonight, and Mike Van Siclen decided to take the high road and let his partner have a go at it."

 

"That’s good thinking. Bowers is a rookie. He’s gonna want to show off for these people. If there’s one guy on 42nd Boulevard, as I like to call them, that isn’t going to allow him to mess around, it’s the Urban Legend."

 

Todd steps in, his usual stoic expression emblazoned across his face. He walks towards center ring, and Bowers waits on him, springing forward as soon as he’s close enough, and the two lock horn. Cortez quickly grabs the wrist and wrenches the arm, keeping Bowers at bay. Justin winces as Todd cinches the hold on, but attempts a reversal… only to have his legs kicked out from under him by Cortez before he can counter! Cortez then backs himself into the ropes, hopping over Bowers’ body on the rebound, but then gets taken over by a monkey flip off the second rebound…

 

… but the Urban Legend lands on his feet~! Cortez immediately heads for the ropes again, but puts the brakes on as he sees Bowers leaping up for a dropkick! Justin crashes down on the canvas, and as he gets up to a knee during his recovery from the miss, Todd runs forward and leaps up, snapping his right leg out to crack Bowers in the back of the head with a wicked enzugiri kick! Instead of opting for a pin, Cortez pulls the dazed rookie up to his feet, tossing him into the “42nd Boulevard” corner and then striking him with a wicked open hand chop to his chest!

 

*SMACK!* "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!"

 

Bowers flinches and tries to get out of the enemy territory, but Cortez backs him against the turnbuckles again, and follows up with a second chop, turning the pectoral area on his opponent beet red in the process. Cortez yanks Bowers out of the corner and hooks him in a facelock, lifting him up for a suplex before dropping him forward onto the top rope, and using the spring he gets from that to carry Bowers over with a slingshot suplex! Cortez sits up, and nods to Masked Man, extending his hand and making the tag to him while Mike Van Siclen watches on and rolls his eyes.

 

"Van Siclen none-too-impressed with the schooling that Todd Cortez just put on Justin Bowers," Riley calls, "and he doesn't look too impressed with his and the Masked Man's chemistry, either!"

 

"I've got to think that Van Siclen is a bit jealous here, Bobbo," Comet says matter-of-factly. "I mean, Citizen Bowers did everything but pull out a desk and diagramming his maneuvers on a chalkboard to Van Siclen!"

 

"You're trying way too hard with these analogies, Comet."

 

Mask enters the ring, wanting to get down to business quickly with Bowers. The Masked Man grabs Bowers by his short hair and lifts him to his feet, quickly rearing back with an elbow and driving it right into the mouth of the human lightning bolt! The crowd actually boos this maneuver, a bit taken aback by the sudden ferociousness of the Masked Man, but Mask shrugs at their boos, stalking towards Bowers and grabbing him by the arm. He whips Bowers into the ropes by the 42nd Boulevard corner, and Todd Cortez charges across the apron, grabbing Bowers by the head as he hits the ropes and jumping into the air, bringing Bowers down neck-first across the top rope! Cortez tries to land on the apron, but his ankle gives out on him as he hits the apron, and he goes tumbling to the outside.

 

"Todd Cortez just took a nasty spill on the outside!" Comet says. "I know some people think wrestling's fake, but there's no way you can plan something like that!"

 

Ring attendants rush over to Cortez to make sure he's all right, and Cortez nods, telling them to give him a few moments to regain his bearings. The trainers oblige, while in the ring Bowers stands straight up and stumbles back, grabbing his neck in pain -- only to get grabbed by the head from behind by the Masked Man, who sits out, driving Bowers' head into the mat with a sleek Edge-O-Matic! The crowd boos this, too, as Mask reaches forward, hooking Bowers' leg and looking for the three!

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THR -- TWO COUNT!" Bowers gets the shoulder up. Mask gets to his feet, grabbing Bowers by the top of his head and lifting him to his feet as well.

 

"Innovative tag team maneuver from 42nd Street!" Comet calls out, "But it only gets a two count, as the resilient Justin Bowers kicks out once again!"

 

"The scouting report said that Bowers would go down quickly," Riley says, "and he's going to if he doesn't tag out soon!"

 

The Masked Man grabs Bowers once more, going behind him and quickly locking Bowers into a full nelson! He forces Bowers over to the 42nd Boulevard corner, shouting at Van Siclen to tag into the match! Van Siclen stares coldly at Mask, giving him the sort of 'drop-dead' look usually reserved for your aunt with the bad breath from Texas! Mask, however, is not messing around, and he unhooks one of his arms and reaches out, trying to tag Mike in himself -- but Van Siclen hops off the apron! Todd Cortez, getting to his feet on the outside, shouts at Mike.

 

"The hell are you doing?"

 

Van Siclen crosses his arms, much like a toddler would, and Cortez sighs, frustrated. He climbs onto the apron, looking to tag himself into the match -- but Bowers has figured out how to escape the move, bringing his leg back and...

 

*CHING!*

 

... right into Masked Man's testes!

 

"Well, Hearford taught him that one!"

 

The crowd cheers Bowers' ingenuity, as Mask lets go of the half-nelson and backs away, clutching his balls in pain. Bowers grins, turning around and trying to take advantage of the Masked Man's current state by charging at him -- but Mask is still alert enough to GET LOW~, grabbing Bowers by the midsection and lifting him up, only to slam him down with a gnarly spinebuster! The crowd boos slightly as Mask hobbles over to the 42nd Boulevard corner, tagging in Cortez!

 

"Van Siclen refuses the tag from the Masked Man!" Comet says. "Bobbo, I know he's your BOY-EE~... but he's acting downright childish!"

 

"He's trying to take a stand, Comet!" Riley says. "In this country today, how many people are truly willing to take a stand for what they believe in?"

 

"I do, Bobbo," Comet says. "I'll have you know that I'm a proud sponsor of Fthevote.com!"

 

Cortez enters the ring, grabbing Bowers by the arm and lifting him to his feet. Cortez takes Bowers' arm, whipping him hard into the 42nd Boulevard corner. Bowers catches the top turnbuckle full-on in the sternum, and he stumbles back, clutching it in pain... only to have Cortez charge from behind and pancake him into the turnbuckle again! Cortez stumbles backwards from the recoil, but he's enough in control that he settles down, watching Bowers stumble backwards out of the corner again -- and the Urban Legend grabs him in a rear waistlock, throwing him overhead with a hard German suplex!

 

"This team is all over Justin Bowers!" Riley yells.

 

Cortez goes back over to the corner, looking to make the tag -- and Mike Van Siclen reaches out, slapping Todd's hand and entering the match, wanting to showcase his in-ring skill. He goes over to Bowers, quickly grabbing him by the hair and lifting him to his feet. Van Siclen grabs Bowers by the arm, whipping him hard into the ropes. Bowers hits them, coming back hard at Van Siclen... who charges forward, reaching out one arm and slamming it against Justin's throat with a HUGE NO I'M NOT HARDCORE HOLLY BUT I STILL LOVE BEATING ON THE ROOKIES LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Bowers hits the mat hard, and Van Siclen cockily places one foot on his chest, posing as Soapdish makes the count!

 

"ONE!"

 

"TW -- NO!" Bowers easily gets a shoulder up.

 

"Van Siclen is showing absolutely no respect for Justin Bowers," Riley says. Comet finishes it up, "Even though Bowers took him to school earlier, and Citizen Van Siclen had to have his teammates soften the rookie up first!"

 

Van Siclen brings Bowers up to a standing position, but immediately shoves him into the corner, before pounding his opponent in the face with a big forearm shot! And another! A third! The Tag Team champion backs up, reaching way back and grinning cockily...

 

*SMACK!*

 

…before slapping the taste out of Justin’s mouth! As Bowers reels from the shots, MVS grabs him by the wrist, repositions him against the ropes, and then sends him to the opposite ropes with an Irish whip. Mike moves to the middle of the ring anticipating his opponent’s return, but Bowers is ten steps ahead of him, and he leaps onto the second rope, springing around and kicking his legs out, nailing a HUGE springboard dropkick onto Mike Van Siclen! Trying to keep the advantage, Justin charges at the perpendicular ropes and returns, flipping through the air and bringing his leg down across the fallen Van Siclen’s neck with a somersault leg drop! The American West Arena gives a big ovation for Bowers, but he only glances at the appreciative fans before pressing down on top of MVS with a cover!

 

"ONE!"

 

 

"TWO – NO!"

 

Soapdish can barely get two out before MVS powers out of the pin.

 

"Citizen Hearford’s protégé just connected with a big dropkick!" Comet helpfully points out, "I think Mister Van Siclen might’ve been taking Bowers lightly before!"

 

"Well, he’s completely justified in doing so," Riley replies, "I mean, yeah, he was trained by Judge Mental, but he’s a rookie, and he’s a spot monkey, and he’s going to make some big rookie mistakes!"

 

"That remains to be seen, Bobbo."

 

Bowers allows Van Siclen to get to his feet, but quickly kicks him hard in the gut! With his adversary doubled over, Bowers runs to the ropes at Mike’s side and returns, reaching for a swinging neckbreaker…but the crafty tag champion is able to reach out and grab Justin’s leg, hoisting him onto his shoulders and falling back with a Samoan drop!

 

"It doesn’t remain to be seen anymore, Comet!" Riley retaliates.

 

Just to prove a point to the rookie, Mike grabs him by the head and forcefully pulls him up off the mat, before reeling back again and-

 

*SMACK!*

 

-executing another bitchslap! The Phoenix crowd vociferously jeers the tag champion, but Van Siclen ignores them as he traps Bowers in a front facelock and drops backward, drilling his head into the mat with a DDT! He doesn’t go for a cover, but instead turns Bowers over and sits him up, wrapping his own arm around Justin’s neck and squeezing tightly with a chinlock! Bowers flails his limbs wildly, trying to break free of the wear-down hold, to no avail. However, the crowd tries to rally Bowers on with their usual anti-MVS chant!

 

"YOU GOT JOBBED!"

 

"TO A GIRL!"

 

"YOU GOT JOBBED!"

 

"TO A GIRL!"

 

However, as Van Siclen hears the chant, he notices a distinct voice chanting "TO A GIRL!"… a Romanian voice.

 

"Bobbo, The Masked Man is chanting against Citizen Van Siclen!" Comet delightfully proclaims.

 

"If he knows what’s good for him," Riley answers, "he’ll stop real damn soon. I don’t care if you hate your partner in a match, he’s still your partner, and you support him. You’re out there to win!"

 

Mike looks over to his corner, at Mask shouting, and proceeds to hock a loogey at him! The crowd jeers this move, but from their corners, Andrea and the Birdman, as well as Mr. Hearford at ringside, lead the crowd in clapping for their partner. Bowers seems to feed off of their encouragement, and he turns over to a knee, and gets up to his feet! He fires an elbow against Van Siclen’s ribcage, and a second, and a third, and then runs to the ropes…

 

*BOOM!*

 

…but catches a knee to the back by Todd Cortez! Justin stumbles forward, allowing Van Siclen to grab him by the head and twist around, falling down with a swinging neckbreaker! Mask looks to his former (?) partner asking him why he did that, but Cortez simply shrugs, as if to do what Riley said earlier.

 

"See, someone’s listening to me!" Riley notes, "Cortez is helping out his championship partner. The partner he REALLY won the tag titles with."

 

"Bobbo, The Masked Man and Todd Cortez successfully defeated Revolution Zero’s Spike Jenkins and Sean Davis," Comet begins, "With Van Siclen on the team, they couldn’t get the job done! I think they were better off-"

 

"That was Mask’s fault, anyway!" Riley cries.

 

Van Siclen gets to his feet, going over to the 42nd Boulevard corner and reaching out, making the tag to his fellow Tag champion, Todd Cortez! Cortez enters the ring, grinning a bit as he approaches Justin Bowers. The crowd begins chanting...

 

"LET'S GO JUS - TIN!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

"LET'S GO JUS - TIN!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

 

... and from the apron, Hearford slaps the mat in time with the claps, desperately wanting to see his boy tag out! Cortez grabs Bowers by the hair, lifting him to his feet and quickly wrapping him up in a side headlock. Cortez grabs Justin by the tights, lifting Bowers up into suplex position -- but Bowers shifts his weight around, forcing Cortez to drop him! Bowers lands on his feet behind Cortez, and both men whirl around at the same time. Cortez is looking to see where Justin Bowers went... Justin Bowers is looking to knock Cortez out with a HUGE lariat! Both men fall to the mat, and the crowd sees this as the prime opportunity for Bowers to tag out!

 

"LET'S GO JUS - TIN!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

"LET'S GO JUS - TIN!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

 

"Bowers needs to make the tag, Bobbo," Comet says, "and now is PERFECT timing!"

 

Both men are down on the mat, likely needing a bit of a rest! Referee Soapdish, however, sees things differently, and begins counting both men out!

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

By now Bowers has shaken the kinks out, and he begins inching his way towards his corner...

 

"THREE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

He's getting closer, but Cortez has shaken the kinks out as well. He sits up and turns around, looking for Bowers, who is mere inches from tagging in somebody...

 

"SIX!"

 

Cortez charges, trying to stop Bowers from making the tag...

 

*SLAP!*

 

... but he's seconds too late, as the Birdman is suddenly the legal man in this matchup! The crowd absolutely erupts, THRILLED by this sudden turn of events as the Birdman slingshots into the ring and goes after the Urban Legend, firing off right hand after right hand to Cortez’s face.

 

"I don’t like this one bit. He’s using closed feathers!"

 

"I think the job pressure is finally doing you in, Robert."

 

Cortez hobbles, his equilibrium taking a hit after he was rocked by Birdman’s shots, but Birdman grasps him by the wrist and slings him into the ropes, then runs at Cortez and leaps up, rotating his body around in mid air and catching Cortez in the chest with a jumping back elbow! Birdman flails his wings, enjoying the crowd reaction as he looks to take his team down the path to glory, and keeps an eye on his streetwise foe. Cortez stands up, and immediately is met with the crack of an open wing chop!

 

And another!

 

And a third!

 

Fourth!

 

Fifth!

 

Cortez tucks his arms in, trying to deflect any further punishment, so Birdman reaches down and pulls him up by the waist, then plants him with an inverted atomic drop! The move stuns Cortez enough that he lets his guard down, and Birdman cocks his arm back before smacking Cortez across the chest again with a loud, stiff chop that manages to knock the Urban Legend on his back! Cortez rolls away and backs himself into the corner, trying to buy some recovery time, but the energized Birdman stays with him and follows him in.

 

Unfortunately for our feathered friend, that’s just what Cortez wanted, as a well placed eye rake sends Birdman scurrying away with temporary vision loss! Cortez props himself up on the top rope, waiting for Birdman to stroll back into close range. Todd executes a leap from the second rope, but no one is sure what he was going for, as he’s dropkicked out of the air in mid-move, courtesy of The Birdman! Bird quickly ducks out of the ring and out to the apron, measuring Cortez up while he’s trying to catch his breath.

 

"Cortez is taking some much-needed recovery time," Riley says, "but I don't know if he's completely killed the Birdman's momentum!"

 

From across the ring Mike Van Siclen and Masked Man shout to Cortez to watch his back, but he groggily stands unaware of what’s going on. Birdman sees Cortez on his feet and takes action, springing up to the top rope and soaring into the ring…but now HE gets kicked out of the air, as Cortez heeded the words of his partners and spins around with a devastating roundhouse kick to Birdman’s exposed ribs!

 

"He took that bird out of the sky like he was nothing more than a clay pigeon!"

 

"I see you’ve been researching Field & Stream for your Birdman quips, eh Bobbo?"

 

Birdman gasps, but Cortez leaves him no room for recovery, as he seizes the advantage and pulls Birdman up, then sends him staggering back with several European uppercuts. Todd backs him against the ropes, and looks to whip him over to the far side, but Birdman shifts direction in mid-move, attempting to send Cortez into the ropes… but Cortez reverses THAT, pulling Birdman towards him and tucking his head, backdropping Big Bird’s favorite wrestler over the top rope! The agile Birdman avoids falling from the sky and lands on his feet on the apron, however, and quickly reaches in, snatching Cortez by his head and slamming him down to the canvas!

 

Once again, Birdman takes to the sky, as he slingshots himself in with a flip senton… that Cortez rolls under! Birdman manages to roll through, coming up to his feet, while Cortez braces himself on the apron. The Bird turns towards Cortez, who leaps up and springboards into the ring, jumping right over Birdman and landing on his feet behind him! Birdman turns to find his foe, but instead finds the leg of Cortez slicing through the air, as Todd takes him out with a wicked spin kick! Cortez gets up, and then rushes the Team Flip Flop corner, shoving Bowers to goad him into the ring!

 

Justin makes the mistake of trying to stand up for himself and attempts to get into the ring, but that only draws the referee over to usher him back out to the apron. Knowing that the distraction has worked, Cortez yanks Birdman up off the mat and calls for Masked Man to get into the ring. Cortez snapmares Birdman over his shoulder, into a seated position on the mat, and then sends the nerves throughout his spine into a frenzy thanks to a sickeningly stiff soccer kick to the back. Masked Man, meanwhile, runs the ropes during this maneuver, and upon the completion of Todd’s kick, bounces off the ropes in front of Birdman, nailing him with a seated dropkick to the jaw!

 

"Some EVIL trickery from Todd Cortez!" Comet says, "keeping 42nd Boulevard firmly but unfairly in control of this match! Perhaps Todd Cortez has picked up all he can from Mike Van Siclen!"

 

"I can't believe you'd ever suggest such a thing, Comet!"

 

With the two kick combo complete, Cortez backs out of the ring, just as the ref turns his attention back to the in ring happenings. Following up on the impact of Todd’s kick to their rivals back, Masked Man kneels down behind Birdman, tugging back on his arms while driving his knee into his spine, hoping to wear the speedster out before another burst of energy comes his way. The crowd is behind Birdman, trying to get the feathered phenom some momentum by starting another chant!

 

"CAW! CAW! CAW!"

"CAW! CAW! CAW!"

 

The chanting is huge, but the Birdman doesn't break the hold himself -- no, it's broken by the Masked Man, staring hard at Van Siclen chanting along with the Birdman's supporters! Mask comes over to Van Siclen, asking the Spectacle if he has a problem. Mike nods that yes, he does have a problem, and looks to fire off a right hand into Mask's face -- but Todd Cortez grabs Van Siclen by the arm! Without thinking, Van Siclen whirls around, knocking Cortez off the apron with a hard left hook! The crowd lets loose a string of jeers at Van Siclen, and Mask grabs Mike, pulling him into the ring.

 

"It's ON now, folks!" Riley yells. "Mike Van Siclen just decked Todd Cortez, and you'd better believe that the Masked Man took exception to it!"

 

The Birdman is by now on his talons, but he simply watches as Masked Man and Van Siclen grapple with each other, each desperately trying to get the upper hand. The two go back and forth, before finally...

 

*CHING!*

 

Mike Van Siclen gets the equalizer, kicking Mask in the sack! The Masked Man doubles over in pain, clutching his testes, and a livid Van Siclen puts TMM's head between his legs! Van Siclen grabs Mask around the waist, hoisting him up so that his masked head is dangling around Van Siclen's knees. Van Siclen, enraged, jumps slightly, landing on his knees and driving the Masked Man headfirst into the mat with the Riot Act!

 

"RIOT ACT ON THE MASKED MAN!" Riley yells. "You're on his damn TEAM, Mike!"

 

Van Siclen exits the ring, breathing heavy. The Birdman, and the rest of Team Flip Flop, gawks at Van Siclen, who is at the ring attendant's table grabbing the SWF Tag Team championships. Van Siclen turns around, looking at the Birdman.

 

"PIN HIS ASS!"

 

The crowd boos loudly as Birdman looks down at the Masked Man, unsure of what to do, but obviously considering Van Siclen's advice. Mike grabs Todd Cortez, who is still down on the outside, and hefts him up, helping him to the back. In the ring, Birdman kicks Masked Man over onto his back, getting on top of him.

 

"The Birdman doesn't want to drag this on any longer than it has to go," Comet says. "Call this a mercy killing!"

 

Indeed.

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

"Let's Get Retarded" starts up once more, and Birdman gets to his feet. Bowers, Andrea and Hearford all enter the ring, the four of them helping the Masked Man to his feet.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, your winners, Andrea Montgomery, Justin Bowers and the BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRD - MAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

 

Hearford and Andrea Montgomery support the Masked Man, helping him out of the ring. The five of them stumble up the ramp, Hearford and Montgomery still helping the Masked Man up the ramp and out of the ring area.

 

"Folks, Mike Van Siclen is so sick with rage that he just cost himself a six-man tag to get back at the Masked Man!" Riley says.

 

"What will Todd Cortez think when he comes to?" Comet asks.

 

"More importantly, what will the Masked Man do when he comes to?" Riley says. "This whole drama is coming to a head, folks! For Cyclone Comet, this is Bobby Riley, saying good night -- we'll see you at Storm!"

 

FADE OUT.

 

Copyright SWF 2004

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With the main event over and the credits over and done with, most Smarkdown viewers are reaching for their remotes (if they haven't already...). But suddenly we're whisked backstage to where a rather nervous looking Megan Skye is hurrying through the hallways and keeping an eye out for someone or something on her way. As she scuttles through the halls, various members of staff and the roster either cast a look or wink her way or say 'Hi'...but she ignores them all, continuing on her way. Finally, after a good 20 seconds of searching, Megan has obviously found who she was looking for as she quickly picks up speed and jogs over to a young man holding a video camera in his hand. The man sees Megan and smiles but gets no positive responce.

 

"Well?"

 

The man smiles again and nods, as Megan breathes somewhat of a sigh of relief.

 

"Is it...I mean, did..."

 

"Listen...I got what you asked me to get." The man replies solemnly. "I have no idea what you're looking to find from this but I did what I was told, I recorded when you told me to. If this is your boyfriend or husband or whatever, then I didn..."

 

"No...no, this isn't my husband. It's...erm...complicated. Just..."

 

Megan sighs, taking a moment to take a deep breath in order to calm herself down...but that doesn't seem to work.

 

"Listen, here's the camera..."

 

The man nods his head towards the camera in his hand, before reaching around the back of the camera and taking a moment to adjust something before passing it to her.

 

"...I can't give you any answers because I don't know the questions. But here's the camera...watch it over, send the camera back to my office as soon as possible and then we'll go on from there..."

 

"No, it's ok. If you got what I wanted then I...there'll be no need to continue the...uhm, investigation. Thank you anyway..."

 

Megan takes the camera and starts to look at it nervously, her hands shaking violently.

 

"Err, the play butto..."

 

"I know how to work it thank you very much! I may be a blonde but I'm not totally clueless!"

 

"I di..."

 

"Look, can you just leave me please?"

 

Megan's finger hovers over the play button, still shaking like a leaf as the guy continues to stand over her watching.

 

"I take it you'll be paying me when you retur..."

 

 

"CAN YOU JUST LEAVE ME IN PEACE!?!"

 

The guy recoils in shock as Megan quickly realises how she's acting and looks instantly ready to apologise.

 

"I'm...I'm real..."

 

"No, no. Listen...just return the cam...yeah. I'll go..."

 

With his tail tucked between his legs, the guy hurries off as Megan goes back to the camera...staring at it nervously, almost scared to touch the camera for fear of how dangerous it may be. Or rather what it may contain. But still, she has to know...so taking a deep breath she places the camera on a nearby stack of anvil cases and presses the 'Play' button. The camera recording this is too far away to see what exactly is on the camera...but whatever it is, Megan doesn't seem too happy as she watches it. Slowly, as the footage rolls on, Megan's face grows more and more worried...

 

 

 

...until finally it all ends. The camera screen turns blank but still Megan stares at the blank screen, shaking noticeably.

 

"HEY...MEGAN!"

 

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoes through the hallway...a voice Megan seems relieved to hear. Hurriedly she turns the camera off and wheels around as Landon Maddix walks over towards her, with Chris Card and Natasha right behind him.

 

"Megs..." Landon smiles as Megan tries to hide her demeanour, but suddenly not looking so relieved. "What's up? Everything ok?"

 

"Everythi...everything's fine."

 

"You sure? You look a bit...pale."

 

"Oh...it's nothing. I'm just feeling a bit off colour, that's all...something I ate no doubt. I'll be fine."

 

"Right. Well, we're off to hit the town but if you don't feel up to it then we can give you a lift back to the hotel..."

 

"Thanks..."

 

Smiling as effectively as possible Megan seems to be almost back to normal, as Maddix puts his arm around Megan and the four begin to walk off...with Landon, Card and Natasha all oblivious to Megan's recent actions. And Megan oblivious to the fact she's left the camera laying unattended, as she and the rest of The Enterprise walk off, while Smarkdown finally fades out to the SWF logo...

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That's your show, folks. A decent amount of no-showing, solid efforts from those who showed, and a little light on the promos. However, as with the matches, what was written was quite good, and I advise you check it out. There were some matches that are definitely going to impact the next few weeks, so read up and be prepared, since Strangler is bringing you a card for Storm.......NEXT!

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