SWF Storm

[Thoth 0]

Before Storm, before Maddix/Cortez, before whoever is giving an obesely long opening promo this show...

 

... there is Alex Zenon, sitting in his office and shuffling papers. He's peaceful, he's not doing any great amount of harm to anybody, but still, he's there. And God knows we wouldn't have a five-minute shot of Alex Zenon shuffling paperwork, so we're likely going to see somebody barge into his office right about...

 

"I want him tonight, Zenon."

 

... now. The door flies open and a slightly passive-looking Mike Van Siclen, wearing a black dress shirt and black dress pants, in addition to his black bowler, steps into the room. Alex looks up, and promptly looks down again, probably trying to suppress a snicker at Van Siclen's expense -- but Mike is not amused.

 

"I'm not kidding, Alex. I want him tonight."

 

"You want who tonight, Mike? I can't book a match proper if you don't give me so much as a name."

 

"You know damn well who it is, Z. I want Masked Man, and I want him tonight."

 

Zenon relaxes, very nearly laughing in Van Siclen's face. "You know, I get a lot of people in here telling me what I'm going to book, and usually I just do it because it's what they want and I have no reason not to. Your case, Michael, is quite different. I mean, this whole little spat could've been avoided if you'd just rearranged your vacation time..."

 

Game.

 

"Z, I needed a vacation, man, and the plane tickets were non-refundable..."

 

"Not only that, you didn't even talk to me about suspending the titles, leading to your partner having to make not one but two defences in your absence..."

 

Set.

 

"Alex, I tried to get a hold of you..."

 

"And most importantly, Mike, since said vacation you've been oh-and-three, including losses to such magnificent wrestlers as Edward James, "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins, and..." Zenon re-reads through his papers, as if trying to make sure that he's reading correctly. "And Candace, of all people, Mike."

 

Match. Zenon cracks a smile. "And yet, arrogant bastard that you are, you still expect to walk into my office and demand a match with the Masked Man, and you still expect me to just give it to you."

 

A defeated man, Van Siclen slumps into his chair. But he looks up at Zenon, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Look, Z, I need to fight the Masked Man, and I need to do it tonight, before our defence against Revolution Zero Wednesday night."

 

"Uh huh," Z says. "And why should I just give you this match. I mean, this whole little spat..."

 

"Yeah, you already went there, Z."

 

"... oh, right. Sorry, it was just so good, you..."

 

"Yeah, I understand, Alex."

 

"Look, Mike, I know you want this match... what's in it for the Masked Man?"

 

"I don't know. Closure?"

 

"I'm thinking in a completely different direction here, Michael. You know what, I think I'll give you that match against the Masked Man, actually... you guys'll be on before Flesher/Candace. However, since I'm being so generous as to book this match, I'm going to throw in two stipulations."

 

"Okay, fine. What are they?"

 

"Number one, since your lust full of rage is so strong... it's going to be a Falls Count Anywhere, No Disqualifications match."

 

"Okay... what does that mean, exactly?"

 

"There are no rules. If you can get a three-count or a submission on him, it can be here, it can be in Vancouver, it can be in Athens for all I care, if his shoulders are down for three counts or he taps out, you win. And vice versa, of course."

 

"Right."

 

"I expect this to be a damn good match, Mike, this would've been money for Genesis."

 

"I don't care about Genesis, I care about keeping my tag belts..."

 

"Oh, right, the other stipulation. Your half of the Tag belts is on the line."

 

Mike stops. "What?"

 

"Your half of the tag belts is on the line. If you win, Hollywood Boulevard retains the Tag championships. If Masked Man wins, 42nd Street will not only become the new Tag Team champions."

 

Mike continues to stare at Zenon, who is twirling a pen between his fingers, obviously pleased with himself. "You're a son-of-a-bitch, Zenon... but thank you."

 

"You're the first person to say that to me in weeks."

 

"You deserve it, Alex... you just signed the Masked Man's death warrant."

 

Van Siclen leaves the office, leaving Zenon to his paperwork as we fade to black...

[Thoth 0]

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

 

The lights come up, the pyros go off and we are LIVE~ with SWF Storm in the Alamo Dome in San Antonio, Texas! The cameras pan around the arena, focusing on the plethora of signs brought by the local fans bearing cunning puns and insider comments on their favourite wrestlers whilst-

 

“OK, that’s enough.”

 

-whilst they jump up and down and wave in an attempt to get on television-

 

“I said that’s ENOUGH!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The feed cuts to the main ring camera, which shows one distinctive figure standing in the centre of it with a microphone in his hand. A black-nailed hand, which combined with the eyeliner and the spiky hair can mean only one thing...

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Yup. Ol’ Black Eyes is on the mic.

 

“San Antonio, Texas,” Toxxic says, testing the waters.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Well done, you’ve mastered simple word recognition,” the straight-edger continues. “And they say the education system in this state is obsolete.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Well, they would say it if they could spell it,” Toxxic concedes. “But anyway; Commissioner Zenon has asked me to keep it short and sweet this week which is why I haven’t graced you with my full entrance, although of course you will be witnessing that when I come out for the main event tonight to beat Johnny Dangerous.” The Straight-Edge Sensation grins slightly. “Personally I just think Alex is trying to save on pyros, but hey.”

 

“You should know the deal by now,” he continues. “I am going to beat Johnny tonight, but I don’t want to rest on my laurels and I need an opponent for the next show. So it’s time to find out who wants the Toxxic Open Challenge for Lockdown.” Toxxic unclips the World Heavyweight Title from around his waist and dangles it tantalisingly towards the entrance ramp.

 

“Come on. There’s got to be someone back there who wants a shot.”

 

All heads turn towards the opening to the backstage area underneath the Smarktron, but for the moment there is no movement.

 

“Welcome to Storm, Citizens,” Comet says in a slightly subdued tone. “Toxxic was already out here as the broadcast began, and as you can see he’s wasting no time in-”

 

‘NOW TESTIFY!’

 

The crowd pops - not hugely, but big enough to ensure a good welcome for the young man who comes striding out as ‘Just Communication’ from Gundam Wing kicks up over the PA system. Justin Bowers slaps the hands of the fans as he makes his way down the entrance ramp, but his eyes are fixed on the ring that contains a startled but increasingly amused World Champion.

 

“It’s Justin Bowers!” Comet exclaims, somewhat redundantly. “William Hearford’s new trainee has come out to accept Toxxic’s challenge!”

 

“He can’t,” Riley responds flatly, “don’t you remember the rules, Comet?”

 

Bowers rolls into the ring, comes up to his feet and-

 

“Whoah,” Toxxic says, holding up his hand. “You can stop right there Justin Timberlake, because you don’t count here. You might be able to beat hosses with peanut allergies and stand on the other side of the ring while a six-man tag team self-destructs, but in order to accept my challenge you have to have had five - count them - five SWF matches.”

 

Bowers simply steps forward - and snatches the microphone away from the Straight-Edge Sensation!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Some people will cheer anything,” Riley mutters as Toxxic raises one eyebrow at such unmannerly behaviour.

 

“I’m not accepting your challenge,” Justin says to the World Champion, “I’m challenging you! You and me, one-on-one, a non-title singles match on Lockdown!”

 

“JUS-TIN!”

 

“JUS-TIN!”

 

“JUS-TIN!”

 

Toxxic simply looks at the bristling rookie with a bemused expression, then casually beckons to Funyon to throw him a microphone. The veteran ring announcer grudgingly obliges and the World Champion raises it to his mouth.

 

“You know... if you’re feeling suicidal, there are some very good services out there to help troubled young men.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“The cheek of Toxxic!” Comet exclaims. “He’s three years younger than Justin Bowers, for starters!”

 

“-and is a natural wrestler, whereas you couldn’t find Bowers’ talent with a microscope,” Riley says calmly. “Just because he wears spandex pants it doesn’t mean you have to side with him.”

 

Justin Bowers steps up to the Straight-Edge Sensation and looks him in the eye.

 

“Yes? Or no?”

 

Toxxic takes a deep breath... and sighs audibly into the mic. Justin’s eye narrow, but the human lightning bolt keeps a check on his temper as Toxxic turns away from him.

 

“I have every faith in Justin Bowers’ promise as a young talent, but I can’t help feeling that he’s making a mistake here,” Comet says in a concerned tone. “Toxxic is not the sort of person to enter into a match with lightly.”

 

Justin Bowers still stands in the ring, watching the back of Toxxic’s head... and the straight-edger turns back to face him with his familiar lopsided grin creasing his face up.

 

“What the hell. I could do with a night off after beating Johnny.” He extends one hand out to the rookie. “Put it there - you’ve just got yourself a match with the World Champion.”

 

Justin doesn’t look happy with Toxxic’s dismissal of him, but he nonetheless extends his hand and clasps that of the Straight-Edge Sensation to make the match official. Toxxic grins as he shakes, and Justin starts to smirk in return...

 

“JUSTIN!”

 

“It’s Judge!” Comet exclaims as William Heardford III comes down the ramp with a microphone of his own. “Justin Bower’s manager is here!”

 

“Justin, you get out of that ring right now!” Hearford says to the consternation of his young charge before turning his attention to Toxxic. “Toxxic, don’t do this. Justin doesn’t know what he’s doing, and he’s in no way ready to face you.”

 

“Now there’s confidence for you,” Riley smirks as Justin stares at his mentor in disbelief.

 

“Right... and you think that bothers me?” Toxxic asks the former World Tag Champion as Hearford climbs into the ring. “Sorry - did you think I’m going to give your boy a kicking because I consider him a challenge?” The Straight-Edge Sensation shakes his head in mock-sadness. “I guess the Alzheimer’s must be kicking in, huh?”

 

“Toxxic,” Judge says tightly, controlling his temper with an effort, “you don’t need to do this.”

 

“Nope,” the World Champion acknowledges, “but I haven’t got anything better to do, so why should I give a shit?”

 

“Justin,” Hearford says, changing his tack, “please listen to me. You are a great prospect with tremendous natural talent in the ring, but you are not ready for this. I tagged with Toxxic before an SWF show a couple of months ago, and after we had won our match he and Revolution Zero had me stretchered out of the arena! This is the sort of man you’d be facing!”

 

“I know exactly what he did,” Bowers replies. “This is why I’m challenging him, William! I’m going to make him pay for what he did to you!”

 

“That can wait,” Hearford says, casting a bitter glance at the Straight-Edge Sensation. “For now, please leave this and come with-”

 

“Sorry, no-can-do,” Toxxic interrupts. “Basically, you’ve just admitted that you’re after payback for what happened in that dark match, aren’t you? Well, why should I wait around until the ‘instrument of your vengeance’ gets any better?” Toxxic grins. “We’re having the match now. He shook on it on national television. Not even Zenon will weasel out of that.”

 

“Toxxic-” Judge says, trying one last time.

 

“Shut it!” Toxic snaps, his grin disappearing. “Do you want to know why we took you out after that match, ‘Justice’? Did it ever occur to you to wonder?”

 

“Yes,” Hearford admits. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that.”

 

“For some reason the match-makers booked us as a tag team,” Toxxic recounts, “don’t ask me why because it certainly wasn’t my idea. They put us against some thrown-together pair of jobbers - we were a warm-up match, the conclusion was so foregone that we weren’t even put on TV! And yet despite all that, despite the fact that I was in contention for the World Title and you were one-half of the most dominant SWF tag team of all time... you nearly screwed it up. I had to save you from being pinned and losing the match for our team.” The Straight-Edge Sensation advances towards the veteran with a nasty look in his eye.

 

“You made me look bad, Judge. That’s something that I don’t appreciate.”

 

“Believe me,” Hearford fires back, “you don’t need any help to look bad!”

 

“We did what we did for everyone’s good,” Toxxic says, eyes narrowing. “It was to prevent you from screwing up anyone else’s match, and it was to bring home to you exactly how far you’ve slipped. You are old, Hearford; you are past it. You were a great wrestler, but was time you packed your bags and went home.” The World Champion stops, and backs off a little. “If you want to spend your time training others then that’s fine; the SWF can always use new talent. But here’s a warning for you,” he continues, pointing one black-nailed finger straight at William, “-if you set your proteges up to try and take me out, I’m liable to get angry. And when I get angry, people get hurt.”

 

“Whatever you try this time, I’m ready for you,” Judge tells the smaller man. Toxxic just stares back.

 

“OK then,” the straight-edger says. “How about I take Mr. Lightning Pants here out... and then we’ll see how long it takes me to put you on a stretcher this time.”

 

“JUS-TICE!”

 

“JUS-TICE!”

 

“JUS-TICE!”

 

Toxxic drops his microphone and throws the World Title behind him. Justin Bowers moves protectively in front of his teacher, but Judge takes off his baseball cap and flexes his arms, ready to defend himself if needs be. The crowd start to chant, sensing that a fight might be about to begin-

 

‘WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!’

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The crashing guitars of Otep’s ‘Battle Ready’ kick up over the Alamo Dome’s PA system and lightning spears down to the entrance stage, causing a blast of red and blue pyro to go off that nearly deafens the San Antonio fans. Justin’s eyes are still fixed on Toxxic, but Judge is smart enough to look round and he sees the unmistakeable shapes of Sean Davis, Spike Jenkins and Jet making their way down the ramp, not looking in any particular hurry but clearly meaning business. The former Tag Champion seems to briefly consider a showdown, but the numbers clearly don’t favour him and he pulls Bowers out of the ring after him. Toxxic gestures to his stablemates and they part to let Judge and his apprentice through before they are joined by Toxxic, who has once again fastened the World Title around his waist. Judge looks back as he and Bowers make their way through the curtain to the back and sees Revolution Zero staring back at him as we

 

FADE OUT

Edited August 21, 2004 by Thoth

[Thoth 0]

“PREPARE…FOR…LANDON!”

 

…WAAAAAHHHHHH…

 

*DUM DUM*

 

“This is going to be bigger than an NFL Kickoff Party, Comet. What a match we’re opening up with tonight!” proclaims an ecstatic Robert Riley.

 

Upon hearing “Megalomaniac” booming through the speakers after the all too familiar war call, the capacity crowd at the Alamo Dome lashes out with a barrage of catcalls and jeers to the man stepping out onto the ramp. With the ICTV belt tightly fastened around his waist, Landon Maddix stands on the entrance ramp, his eyes peering over from side to side in a devious glare. Following closely behind him are both Chris Card and Natasha, though Megan Skye is once again absent from her man’s side.

 

“No Megan again, and you have to wonder exactly what’s been going on in her head lately. We saw that rather odd conclusion to Lockdown…”

 

“Bah, she’ll be fine, Comet. It’s apparent her head isn’t on straight right now, so it’s best that she not be out here. Landon can’t be having to worry about a match and a girl at the same time. Women and wrestling just don’t mix.”

 

“With you stating that, Robert, it can go in so many different ways.”

 

Maddix, flanked by Card and Natasha, strolls down the aisle, seeming a bit too overconfident for someone about to engage in a hardcore war. Nevertheless, he continues his trek to the ring, while Funyon makes good with the introductions.

 

“Laaaaadieeees and gennnntlemennnn, the following contest is a special non-title hardcore match! Both the count-out and disqualification rules have been waived, and pinfalls can take place anywhere in the arena! Currently making his way into the ring, accompanied by Chris Card and Natasha…he hails from Huron, South Dakota. Weighing in at two hundred, ten pounds, he is the current SWF Intercontinental Television Champion…LANDON “LA CUCHARACHA” MAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDIXXXXXX!”

 

The fans bellow out more boos, as Landon steps through the ropes and swings his arms out, spinning himself around to show off for all the fans. Card and Natasha maintain their place at ringside, with both offering applause to Landon as he walks over to the corner and unstraps the ICTV belt, raising it up high for all to see. Maddix hops down off the ropes just as his music fades, and is replaced first with the sound of horns, then a loud, powerful guitar riff.

 

Fetch my brazos hardcore down from the click-hi

Who's that - emanatin' funk through the speaker

 

 

With (most) fans welcoming his arrival, Todd Cortez steps out onto the rampway, looking focused to the point of anger. Draped over his shoulder is his half of the SWF World Tag Team Titles, which has caused some tension with his Hollywood Boulevard partner Mike Van Siclen in recent weeks.

 

“I think that once again, Landon Maddix may be a bit out of his element here.”

 

“Just one thing, Comet. He BEAT Ace Lezaire when you thought he couldn’t. However, Todd Cortez has not had an easy past few weeks, as even when this guy is on a hot streak, he’s got to deal with the soap opera surrounding himself, Van Siclen and that freak Masked Man.”

 

Cortez powerwalks down the aisle, his shoulders tense and his eyes gazing up at his opponent, while Funyon announces him over the mic.

 

“His opponent hails from The Streets, and weighs in at two hundred, twenty six pounds. One half of the current reigning and defending SWF World Tag Team Champions…this is the “Urban Legend”…TODDDD CORRRTEZZZZZ!”

 

Upon hearing his name, Cortez bolts into the ring, discarding his tag title as he slides in under the bottom rope. As he comes up, Landon pounces, clubbing him across the shoulder blades with two forearm shots before standing him up and whipping him into the ropes. Cortez bounces off, but catches Landon with his head down and delivers a kick that sends Landon up into standing position again, then floors him with a discus clothesline! Looking up and seeing that Cortez isn’t in a playing mood, Landon rolls to the side of the ring and out to the floor to regroup, and perhaps rethink his strategy against the Urban Legend here tonight.

 

Card and Natasha both reassure Landon that things will be OK, and Maddix reluctantly climbs up onto the apron…only to be taken back into the ring the hard way, as an impatient Cortez grips the top rope and tugs on it, sending Landon tumbling over and back into the squared circle. Cortez pulls Landon right up and fires off quick right hands, stunning the ICTV champion until he’s backed against the ropes. Cortez attempts an Irish whip on Landon, but Maddix quickly spins back around, looking to counter…only to be yanked into Todd’s arms and rocked with an inverted atomic drop!

 

“Right in La Cucharacha’s marracca’s!”

 

Maddix hops around clutching himself, and Cortez takes him by the head and tosses him through the ropes and out to the floor before following after him. With Landon struggling to get to his feet, Todd takes the opportunity to do some searching underneath the ring, and comes up with various objects that draw pops upon the fans seeing them. Chairs, a trash can, and a fire extinguisher are just some of the goods that Cortez pulls out, cutting himself off when he notices Landon staggering to his feet. With Maddix’s back to him, Cortez quickly snags a chair from off of the floor and winds up, looking to strike Landon across the back…but Maddix looks over his shoulder just in time to see it coming, and leaps out of the way! The chair collides with the ringpost, as a frightened Maddix rounds the ring before rolling back into it, protesting about the chair use despite this being a no holds barred contest.

 

“Hardcore may not be Landon’s style, but he’s going to have to adjust fast if he wants to walk home a winner.”

 

Cortez, seeing that Landon may not feel that things are going fairly, smirks to himself as he looks up at the passive ICTV champion, and heads back over to the pile of weaponry he discovered. Cortez, still clutching his steel chair in one hand, reaches down and pulls up another one, raising them both up high and drawing a big pop from the bloodthirsty fans. Todd turns back around and sees Landon gasp at the sight of him holding the two steel equalizers…and slides one of them into the ring!

 

“Did he just give Landon a chair? That’s like giving a match to an arsonist!”

 

Reluctantly, Landon inches over to the chair and quickly picks it up, keeping his eye on his rival. Cortez makes the “you-me” gesture to Landon and hops up on the apron, ready for Maddix as he comes forward swinging his chair, and deflects a shot from Landon! Cortez hops back down to the floor, as Landon is all smiles, thinking that Cortez’s plan has backfired. Rather than stall any longer, Cortez slides his chair into the ring, and again jumps up on the apron, attempting to re-enter the ring. Maddix comes over, still wielding the chair, and looks to bring it down on the crown of Cortez’s head, but Todd quickly ducks down and shoots his body through the middle ropes, nailing Landon in the ribs with a shoulderblock! With Maddix keeled over, Cortez slingshots himself in over Landon’s back, and quickly grabs his chair, evening up the odds!

 

“This doesn’t bode well for Chris Card’s meal ticket.”

 

Landon turns around and sees Todd coming at him, ducking out of the way of a wild chairshot! Taking advantage of his miss, Landon swings his chair out, only Cortez is able to duck his shot as well! Simultaneously, both men cock their arms back, their fists clenched around the legs of the chairs as they swing them outward, resulting in the steel implements colliding! Both men stagger away, the impact of the blow surging through their hands. After a moment of recovery, then eye each other again, each one measuring the other up as they lift the chairs up a second time. Landon looks determined to make due on a chairshot this time, and Cortez is ready for what’s coming at him…because he counters by sidestepping Landon and taking him off his feet with a sweep kick!

 

“Beautiful counter move by Citizen Cortez!”

 

Landon lands on his back, with his own chair falling with him and knocking him in the head. Cortez, still holding his chair, lifts it up over his head and brings it down across Landon’s, giving him even more of a headache! Cortez yanks Landon’s chair off of his face, and lifts up the head of his dazed opponent, tucking the chair underneath. With chair still in hand, Cortez backs up into the ropes and propels himself off, running towards the fallen ICTV Champion and leaping up in the air, tucking his chair underneath his legs and sandwiching Maddix’s head between the two of them, as he connects with an Arabian Facebuster! Cortez quickly attempts to capitalize and drapes himself over Landon, looking for a quick victory…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

KICKOUT!

 

…but Maddix shows that while he’s down, he’s definitely not out!

 

“Cortez thought Maddix was easy pickings, but the man isn’t our ICTV Champion for nothing. It’s gonna take a lot more than a few well placed chairshots to do him in!”

 

Cortez continues on his path of destruction, kicking both chairs aside as he pulls a woozy Landon up from the canvas and hooks both of his arms in a butterfly position. With Landon unable to block, Cortez starts driving his knee up into Maddix’s sternum and ribcage, the force growing harder and harder with each shot. Cortez then releases the hold, spinning around behind Landon’s back and applying a rear waistlock, but as the Urban Legend tries to pull him up and over, Landon kicks his leg back, catching Todd with a desperation low blow! With both his pride and his body hurting, Landon falls forward, catching himself on the ropes, hoping to buy a moment of peace. Card and Natasha come over do what they feel will make Landon happy…they pull him under the bottom rope to the floor, and start to walk to the back with him!

 

“He’s running away!”

 

“Better now than never. Cortez has anger management issues lately, so I’d say Landon should get out while the getting’s good.”

 

Card and Natasha each drape an arm over their shoulders and begin walking back, as Landon is treating this brief brawl like he’s just competed in a sixty minute handicap Iron Man match or something. Shaking off the effects of the low blow, Cortez walks over to the ropes and sees his opponent taking the high road, so he follows suit! The three members of Chris Card Enterprises are completely oblivious to the fact that Cortez is charging up behind them…that is until Landon goes flying forward courtesy of a running forearm shot. Natasha and Card back away, both yelling obscenities at Cortez, who pays them no mind and pulls Landon to his feet. Holding him in a front facelock, Cortez nods to some of the fans to back away from the security railing. Once they oblige, Todd lifts Landon in position for a vertical suplex, but instead drops him forward over the railing that runs the length of the aisleway! Landon dangles over the security barrier as the surrounding fans mock him (or try to touch him…NOT LIKE THAT!), so Cortez softly pushes him to his feet, but not before lifting his head up slightly and connecting with a right to his jaw that sprawls Landon out across some of the paying customers!

 

“The SWF is getting up close and personal with our fanbase tonight!”

 

Landon desperately tries pry himself up off of the laps of the people in Section 2, Row G, however Cortez hops the rail and decides to make things hard for him once again. As soon as Landon is able to stand, Cortez grabs him by the head and leads him out of the row of fans and walks him towards the stairs. As Cortez takes the unwilling Landon on a trek through the arena with him, Chris Card and Natasha hop the railing and follow suit, along with dozens of fans clamoring for Maddix to get his just desserts. The SWF camera crew is able to stay with the action, as the cameras in the arena cut to one waiting in the lobby area where Cortez and Maddix show up. Todd takes his foe and attempts to mash his face into the wall, but Landon quickly puts a foot up to block, and instead it’s Cortez who gets his face planted into the wall. Landon backs away from Cortez, trying to isolate himself in order to catch his breath, while Todd pushes himself up from the lobby floor. Seeing his foe beginning to rise, Landon nods to Card, who hustles over to a nearby popcorn vending booth, reaching over the counter of it. What he’s doing isn’t visible to the viewing audience since his back is turned, but he quickly walks away and runs over to where Cortez has just stood up. Card brushes past the growing crowd in the lobby and taps Todd on the shoulder, spinning him around to face him, and tossing a handful of salt into his eyes!

 

“BEAUTIFUL! The Enterprise shows they can improvise, and Chris Card just pulled one of the oldest tricks in the book over on Mr. Cortez!”

 

Blinded, Cortez swings wildly, coming closer to hitting one of the fans rather than either Landon or Card. With his foe disabled, Landon charges him, tucking his head low and wrapping his arms around his waist as he drives him backwards into the wall! With Cortez gasping for air, Landon pulls him to his feet and leads him by the head, walking over to the very popcorn station that Card just robbed salt from…AND TOSSES CORTEZ HEADFIRST INTO THE GLASS DISPLAY, SENDING SHRAPNEL EVERYWHERE!

 

 

 

Cortez slumps down, his arms sliding off the top of the vending booth as he falls to the floor. His forehead is now dripping blood due to a nasty gash, and some of the more squeamish (re: women) onlookers back away from the brawl. Maddix, like a prizefighter sensing victory, starts putting boots to the head of Cortez, pounding on the wound to further weaken Todd. After delivering the stomps, Landon falls to his knees and pulls Todd’s head up, and starts pummeling the cut with right hands, opening it further and staining his own hand with Cortez’s blood. After growing tired of beating on the cut, Landon lays Cortez out on the lobby floor, and turns to the spectators that surround him. The members of The Enterprise order the fans back, as the ICTV Champion is demanding space for some reason. With Cortez laying horizontal on the floor in the lobby, Landon walks a few feet away from him and then turns…running towards Todd’s body and jumping up, bringing his knee down across the wound on Todd’s forehead! Landon rolls through with the move, popping up to his feet and raising his arms in triumph…and gets pelted with a rolled up napkin from some unimpressed fan!

 

“Maddix nails Cortez with the Dangerous Kneedrop, and Citizen Todd is going to have his face covered by the crimson mask in no time now!”

 

After sneering at whomever it was off-camera that through their litter at him, Landon turns around and quickly covers Cortez. He hooks a leg, and sticks his free hand under Todd’s chin, shoving his face upward so that none of the Urban Legend’s blood drips onto him.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

KICKOUT!

 

Frustrated, Landon slaps the lobby floor, but doesn’t let disgust get the better of him. Instead, he pulls Cortez up off the floor, and seats him up against the popcorn station. Landon stands over Cortez, stomping a mudhole and then firing off several more shots to the forehead before setting Cortez up once again. Once again, Landon clears a path and back up, as it’s obvious he’s got Todd set up for something. Seeing his foe in the perfect position, Landon backs up and runs forward, elevating himself into the air as he lifts up his right leg, drilling a Shining Wizard…

 

…into the metallic popcorn station! Cortez moves out of the way!

 

“It may not be much, but it certainly works! Cortez needs to come to and capitalize!”

 

“Come to? Capitalize! He FELL out of the way, Comet! It wasn’t exactly a brilliant defensive strategy!”

 

“Oh no? Who’s the one clutching their leg in pain right now? Landon or Todd?”

 

As Comet pointed out, Landon lays on the floor of the lobby, holding his leg and groaning in pain. Card and Natasha attempt to check on him, but Cortez is up, and is ANGRY~! He scares of Landon’s entourage, and looks down at his foe, who quickly begs off. Hearing none of it, Todd does what he intended and picks Landon up, walking him a bit further down the hallway. Once again, head meets wall as Cortez sends Landon into the most available weapon in the hall, and then finds another. As Landon limps around in a fog, Cortez swipes a mop and bucket from nearby, yanking the mop out and kicking downward on it, splintering the head of it away from the stick portion. Cortez takes the makeshift bo and heads over to Landon, keeping an eye on him while he fights to his feet…and then swings the wooden stick across his leg, breaking it in two over Landon’s right knee!

 

 

 

Landon immediately collapses, and tries crawling away from Cortez, but to no avail. With vengeance on his mind, Cortez pulls Landon up and leads him over to the stairway, acting as his only support to keep him from falling. The crowd roars upon this sight, as Cortez is ready to heave-ho…until Natasha jumps onto Todd’s back to prevent any harm from coming to Landon! Cortez backs away with Natasha lashing her arms out wildly, trying to gouge out Todd’s eyes…that is until she’s snapmared onto her ass by the co-Tag Team Champion! Cortez immediately walks away from any further confrontation with her, only to see Chris Card running in his direction. Card, infuriated that Cortez has just laid hands on Natasha, looks for revenge, but the only thing he finds is a size 12 in his jaw, as Cortez rattles him with a stiff superkick!

 

“Think Card’s little company has a good dental plan, Robert?”

 

Cortez has now disposed of Landon’s supposed saviors, but they manage to get the result they were looking for, as Landon sneaks behind Cortez and hammers him with a low blow! Cortez falls to his knees in pain as Landon stands up, smacking his open hand across the back of Todd’s head. Landon walks in front of Cortez and looks down at him, pulling him up with both hands and then quickly raking the eyes to prevent any type of counter attack. Cortez staggers away, but Landon lunges for him, pulling him closer…and Cortez jumps up, plants his two feet in Landon’s chest, and monkey flips him over, sending him careening down the stairwell!

 

“Look at him roll!”

 

Landon bounces off the steps like a runaway tire, rolling down the length of the stairwell as fans cheer wildly. The momentum comes to a sudden stop once Landon reaches the bottom of the staircase…and collides with the barrier separating floor seats from the upper levels! Security rushes to block Landon from any possible overzealous fans, but the only person coming for him is Cortez, who takes his time and walks down the stairs, the rage in his eyes visible as you look past his blood soaked face.

 

 

Cortez reaches his destination, and again helps Landon to his feet, only to dump him right over the barrier and into the area of floor seats. Cortez hops over the railing, giving chase to the bruised and beaten Maddix, who tries in vain to crawl away. Cortez gets ahold of him again, and Maddix reaches out for something…anything…and tugs on a fans shirt in hopes of being able to pry himself away from Todd Cortez! Todd will have none of it, as he reaches around and knocks Maddix’s hand away from the shocked fan, and leads him back over towards the ringside area. Cortez motions for everyone to clear a path, and he starts walking faster with Landon, then reaches down and lifts him up. Holding him as if for a back suplex, Todd carries Landon the last few steps towards the ring…and then drops him, crotching him across the steel guardrail! Landon’s mouth hangs open, but no sound comes out. Still, the pain on his face is apparent, and Todd Cortez is enjoying every second of it. The Urban Legend hops over the railing to the ringside area and pulls Maddix down off of the guardrail, dragging him across the floor until he’s able to get him up and roll him into the ring under the bottom rope.

 

“Nice strategy by Cortez. Maddix has a bad wheel due to that missed Shining Wizard and the attack on the knee. Chris Card and Natasha are back up near the cheap seats. Todd has isolated La Cucharacha, and is intent on putting him away!”

 

“Intent is one thing, but delivery is another. Maddix has pulled himself out of rough spots before, Comet.”

 

As if he heard Robert Riley’s praise, Landon slowly pushes himself to his feet just as Cortez is climbing through the ropes, kicking the middle rope up so that Cortez takes it low!

 

Cortez falls into the ring, rolling around after taking another hit to the junk, but it works, as it buys Landon some time. He quickly rolls out of the ring, slowly rolling off the apron as to not put any unneeded pressure on the bad right knee, and starts digging around under the ring. Fans start popping for something, and we know it’s not for Landon…but instead the tall ladder he’s found that he’s pulling out!

 

“Looks like we’re going to be taking things to new heights tonight, Bobbo!”

 

Cortez hobbles over, leaning through the ropes to get at Maddix…and catches the end of the ladder in his gut for his trouble! As he staggers away, Maddix quickly slides the ladder into the ring, and then rolls in himself, scooping up the ladder and putting it across his shoulders. With Todd’s back to him, Landon spins around with his arms hooking the ladder, and nails Cortez across the back of the head! Todd falls into the corner, and Landon takes the ladder off of his shoulder and holds it by his side, waiting for Cortez to turn around…and then he rushes forward, driving the metallic climbing aid into the ribcage of his enemy! Todd nearly collapses, but manages to grab the ropes before he hits the mat, as he’s in desperate need of oxygen. Meanwhile, Landon sets the ladder up several feet away, and then turns his attention to Cortez, pulling him up out of the corner and throwing his head between two of the ladder rungs! With Todd hunched over the ladder, Landon positions himself underneath it, wrapping his hands around Todd’s head and forcing his throat down onto the metal step, driving each and every breath out of him! Cortez wails his arms, trying to free himself, but can’t, as Landon forces the move on him.

 

“We’re used to seeing high dives and people launched from twenty feet above the ring when ladders get involved, but instead Landon Maddix is using it to try and choke Citizen Cortez to death!”

 

Finally, after nearly choking Cortez out, Landon releases, and walks out from under the ladder to Cortez. He pulls the weary Todd from off the ladder and throws him backwards into the corner, slamming his lower back into the middle turnbuckle. Like a shark, Landon again targets the bloody cut over Todd’s eyes, as he climbs onto the second rope and starts raining right hands down onto the cut. Landon hesitates after about the sixth blow, and sarcastically cups his hand to his ear, seeming perturbed that the crowd isn’t counting along. Maddix says “screw it” and keeps pounding, but Cortez manages to push Landon off the ropes and to the mat, aggravating his right knee! As Landon winces, Todd soaks up what adrenaline he has left and charges out, running towards him…but Landon dodges, and Cortez stops just short of the ladder! Todd turns around, and Landon charges him, but Todd moves and just as Todd before him, Landon stops short of crashing into the ladder. He turns to face Todd, but catches a boot to the stomach for his trouble…and then gets nailed in the knee by a vicious low roundhouse kick from Cortez! Maddix falls to his side, but is quickly pulled up by Todd, who tugs on his arm and walks him near the ropes. While holding Maddix by the wrist, Cortez jumps up onto the top rope, walking several inches across it and displaying amazing agility, before leaping off onto Landon’s shoulders and snapping him over with a springboard huracanrana!

 

“Showoff.” Quips Riley.

 

Maddix rolls across the ring, and is barely able to pull himself up in the corner before he notices a charging Cortez, letting out a war call as he leaps into the air, and crushes Landon with a corner splash! Todd backs off, and Landon staggers forward, wondering where he is…and Todd answers that question by reaching down and lifting him by his legs, then turning around and slamming him down to the canvas with a snap spinebuster! With Landon in no position to fight back, Cortez pulls the ladder a bit closer, drawing a loud reaction from the crowd. With his foe downed, Cortez starts climbing, making it up about a third of the way before he decides to launch himself off. Cortez jumps out and kicks his legs backwards, falling down on Landon with a ladder variant of a Vaderbomb…AND LANDS ON KNEES!

 

“He blocked it! He blocked the splash!”

 

“But I don’t think he’s too happy about it!”

 

Comet points out to Riley that while the defensive maneuver worked, Landon is rolling around on the canvas, clutching his right leg.

 

“Citizen Maddix acted on instinct there, but it came at a cost. That bad knee just got a lot worse!”

 

Only the referee is left standing at this point, as Maddix crawls over to one corner slowly, while Cortez backs into another one, clutching his bruised ribs. Slowly, Landon grabs the middle rope, then the top, and pulls himself to his feet, gritting his teeth as he absorbs the pain surging through his leg. He gets to his feet and lets out a sigh of relief…that quickly turns to jaw dropping fright, as he finds himself lifted up and placed on the top turnbuckle! Cortez crotches Landon there, with his back to the ring, and climbs up on the second rope, raising his hand up and bringing it down…

 

SMACK~!

 

…across Landon’s BACK with an open hand chop. Landon lets out an “Argh”, but it’s all he can muster as he’s spent from brawling around the arena, so all he can do is absorb the impact of the blow…

 

SMACK~!

 

…and that’s exactly what he does, as Cortez unleashes another one! Cortez steps down off the ropes, going to retrieve the ladder, and he sets it up flat on the canvas near the corner. Maddix still hasn’t moved, but that seems to be about to change, as Cortez again climbs up the ropes, this time throwing Maddix’s left arm over his shoulder and pulling him up by the waist.

 

SUPER BACK SUPLEX ONTO THE LADDER…

 

…NO, MADDIX SHIFTS DIRECTION IN MID MOVE, SQUASHING CORTEZ ON THE LADDER!

 

The crowd gasps, as Cortez was sandwiched between the unforgiving steel and the body weight of Landon Maddix coming down on him from the top rope.

“Another attempt at a major move by Todd Cortez, and another rejection from Landon Maddix, as La Cucharacha shifts his weight and lands splash-style across Cortez on top of the ladder!”

 

As fast as possible, Landon nudges Cortez’s body off the ladder and onto the canvas, crawling over him and hoping that this will earn him the victory.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREENONONONONO!

 

“Did I just see what I think I saw, Comet!?”

 

“Listen to the fans, they’ll tell you!”

 

The AlamoDome fans react with great joy, as Todd Cortez has managed to get a shoulder up despite Landon’s best efforts. Not wanting to prolong this any further, Landon rolls out of the ring, and again roots around under it…this time coming up with a table, which he promptly sets up at ringside.

 

“Ah, you know what he’s thinking, don’t you?” asks Riley of his broadcast partner.

 

“I do, and if it hits, it’ll turn out to be a good night for Citizen Landon after all.”

 

With the table propped up against the ring apron, Landon slides back in and pushes the ladder off to the side, as it appears to be an obstacle to what he has planned. The ICTV Champion jerks Cortez up from the canvas, and cracks him across the cheek with an open palm, knocking a mouthful of spit out in the process! With Cortez too woozy to react, Landon has no trouble backing him into the ropes, and sends him to the far side, waving his hands on in eager anticipation of the rebound. Cortez bounces back towards Landon, his momentum not slowing in the least, as Landon tucks his head and elevates Cortez over…

 

…LANNIHILATION~!

 

NO~! CORTEZ LANDS ON THE APRON~!

 

“Landon didn’t hit it!”

 

The fans rejoice, and Cortez quickly lunges over the ropes and grabs Landon’s head, using it to pull him down to the canvas! With Landon stunned, Cortez quickly enters the ring again and rolls Landon onto his stomach, sitting so that he’s knees are pressing Landon’s shoulders down. With Landon pinned (not literally), Cortez reaches back, and pulls Maddix’s right leg up, bending it over his own shoulder!

“What the hell!?”

 

“Single leg crab variation by Todd Cortez here!”

 

The move, utilized by Cortez for the first time in his SWF career, puts the pressure right where Landon doesn’t want it…on the one body part that has taken the most punishment tonight. Unable to shift his body due to Cortez’s weight pushing down on it, Landon can only groan and hope that Cortez finds some mercy in his heart…

 

…or he could TAP! And he does!

 

DING*DING*DING

 

“Landon Maddix just gave up!”

 

“Don’t say it like that, Comet. He spared himself serious injury! Did you see the look in Todd’s eye tonight. He came here with vicious intent!”

 

Cortez’s theme music hits, and the bloody superstar stands over the broken body of the ICTV Champion, as Funyon makes things official.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner…TODDDD CORRRTEZZZZZZ!”

 

“He’s had a lot to deal with, and tonight he channeled that aggression into a big win over the ICTV Champion!”

 

“That might help his singles career, but it still doesn’t help out the situation with either of his partners.” states Robert Riley.

 

“Still, it’s been quite a night already Bobbo, and we have a LOT more to go. We’re back with more, after this!”

Edited August 21, 2004 by Thoth

[Thoth 0]

Alex Zenon wears a stunned expression as he sits at his desk, reviewing a packet of papers in his hand.

 

“I honestly don’t know what to say to you. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

 

He looks up at one Bryan Levy, who sits relaxed across from him. Levy’s hair is down, his feet propped on Zenon’s desk (oh, how he hates when they put their feet on his desk), not seeming to notice the strange bleach stains that run up and down his Flaming Lips t-shirt.

 

“So is that impressive or what, man?”

 

Zenon’s expression is carefully blank. “You’ve failed every single component of your drug test. Every. Single. One.”

 

”…is that a problem?”

 

Uncomfortable silence.

 

“That is a problem, huh?”

 

“I do not have the words for what a problem it is.” Zenon leans forward, trying to impress upon Levy the gravity of the situation. “I can’t even identify all the drugs that you’ve done. This graph here – I’ve never seen it on one of these before, but it’s very high. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

 

One would expect some sort of reaction to such a pointed question, but Levy simply smiles and shrugs. “I dunno, man. None of it is performance-enhancing. Nothing that affects my metabolism, no steroids, none of that shit. What’s the big deal?”

 

”The ‘big deal’ would be this company putting a stone-obvious drug abuser on national television and endorsing his craaaaaazy antics two nights a week. That’s a very big deal, and I’m not about to let that happen. Don’t even bother getting dressed. Consider your offer retracted.”

 

Levy cocks an eyebrow. “After you spent all that money on those vignettes? You’re crazy, man. Look, I totally promise not to tell little kids to do drugs, if that’s the problem, alright? I’m going to go grab my tights and –“

 

”No, you’re not!” Zenon slams his hand down upon the desk, trying hard not to wince as he does so. “I don’t give a shit who trained you, and I couldn’t care less who your friends are! I am not putting some goddamn freaked-out junkie in the ring – you are not coherent enough to sell enough merchandise to balance out the potential lawsuit when you paralyze some poor bastard because you showed up tripping your face off one night! Get your papers, get your bags, get your fucking release, and get your lazy stoner ass out of my goddamned office!”

 

“Christ, man, alright. I’ll get my shit already. You really should go smoke some pot or –“

 

”GET! THE FUCK! OUT!”

 

Levy is up and out of the chair with a chuckle and a slight shake of his head, already on his way towards the door as the spittle finishes flying from the commissioner’s lips.

 

“Nathan said you were a trip, dude, but man, I didn’t think you’d flip out quite so bad –“

 

”AND CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!”

 

 

*click*

 

 

Alex mutters to himself and pulls a bottle bearing the label “TUMS” out of his desk – he empties the bottle and chews up a handful of the tablets, grinding his teeth and quietly seething; it’s going to be a very long night, indeed.

 

 

“God-damned junkies…”

Edited August 21, 2004 by Thoth

[Thoth 0]

“The Urban Legend” Todd Cortez makes his way down a hallway inside the Alamo Dome. Fresh off his match with Landon Maddix, Todd is heading back to his tag team locker room. Which tag team? We won’t know till he gets there. The SWF Tag Team Title slung over his shoulder, he continues his way down the hallways until…

 

 

“Hey Todd!”

 

“What…” Todd gets out before turning around into the elbow of Revolution Zero’s “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins. Todd falls to the ground, but pulls himself back up as a brawl has broken out between the two opposing teams. Spike throws rights at the head of Todd, but he covers up. Todd hits Spike in the chest with an elbow, sending the Hollywood Superstar back. Todd displays his martial arts skills as he kicks Spike in the leg, knocking him to the floor. Todd continues to kick Spike…

 

 

…Until Spikes tag team partner, Sean Davis, bull rushes Todd from behind. Todd falls to the ground, but gets back up. Davis is waiting though, as he drives his boot into the face of the Urban Legend. Todd hits the floor, but Davis pulls him back up to his feet. Holding him by the back of the hair, Davis launches Todd into a wall.

 

Spike finally gets back to his feet, showing the effects of Todd’s martial arts kicks. Spike grabs the SWF Tag Team Title that Todd dropped, as Davis pulls Todd up to his knees. Davis wraps his giant arms around his neck, choking the Urban Legend while holding him in place. Spike gets in Todd’s face, holding the title so Todd can see it.

 

“Do you see this? This is the property of Revolution Zero. You got it? I want you to tell your partner. I don’t care who it is. Mike Van Siclen or Masked Man. I don’t care. Just tell them, that this is Revolution Zero’s property, and we are collecting it on Lockdown.”

 

With that, Spike pulls the title belt back and smacks Todd across the skull with it. Davis releases Todd as he falls to the ground. Spike pulls himself back to his feet, tossing the title onto the chest of Todd. He turns to Davis.

 

“One down.”

 

Davis nods in approval, as both men walk off screen. Todd lies on the ground, breathing heavily and with blood dripping out of his nose. The SWF Tag Team Title spread over his chest…

 

 

 

 

[Fade Out]

[Thoth 0]

“Welcome back to Storm,” says Comet. “And coming up next, we have the Birdman taking on John Duran. Robert, a win in this match could be huge for either man!”

 

“That’s right,” agrees Bobby Riley. “Birdman has earned a shot at the Hardcore Title currently being held by Revolution Zero member Sean Davis, and could really use a big win against a wrestler the caliber of a John Duran. In fact, Davis and Duran are actually quite similar in both style and physical size, so this match could really serve as a good tune-up for his Hardcore Title match!”

 

 

“And, on the flipside,” counters Riley, “Duran, as a former World Heavyweight Champion, took a big nosedive after losing the World Title; he’s still trying to re-establish himself as a main-eventer after finally getting back on television, so he really needs all the wins that he can get.”

 

“No arguments there, Bobby,” concedes Comet. “A dominating win here tonight could catapult Citizen Duran right back into the title picture.”

 

“I’m going to go on record and predict a win here for Duran tonight,” announces Riley. “I think that’s he’s going to be a lot more motivated to win this match than Birdman, more focused, and just generally physically superior to his opponent!”

 

“The last portion of what you said may be questionable,” replies Comet. “While he may be stronger, don’t discount the Birdman’s speed and agility; they’ve served him well to this point in the SWF, and I think that they could serve him well here tonight, as well!”

 

With that, the lights dim in the arena and the camera focuses on the SmarkTron, where large white letters light up the screen as Duran Duran shout:

 

“NO!”

 

“NO!”

 

“NOTORIOUS!”

 

Suddenly, the sound switches to Spikeshank’s “Synthetic,” the song which heralds the arrival of John Duran! The lights slowly come back on as the Notorious One steps out onto the stage, dressed for tonight’s combat in his familiar black tights, as well as a sleeveless t-shirt brandishing the words “Sin to Win.” Duran walks briskly across the stage, barely even acknowledging the crowd as he begins to walk down the ramp towards the ring.

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall,” says Funyon. “Making his way towards the ring at this time, from Champaign, Illinois, weighing two hundred sixty-eight pounds, the ‘Notorious One,’ John Duran!” Duran suddenly stops midway down the ramp, brought to pause by the sight of a fan leaning over the ring barricade, holding a sign with a picture of John Duran during his World Title reign and displaying the words:

 

“JOHN DURAN – THE SWF’S ANSWER TO STAN STASIAK”

 

Furious at the implication, Duran snatches the sign away from the fan and rips it to shreds in front of him. He then drops the remnants on the ramp and continues on towards the ring.

 

“Serves him right,” scolds Riley. “Where do fans today get off, thinking that they can just harass the superstars like that? Stan Stasiak indeed!”

 

“Well,” replies Comet as Duran walks up the steel steps at ringside onto the apron, “While it’s hardly the most flattering comparison, you could certainly make the argument that Duran’s career to this point, particularly his tragically short-lived title reign, bears more than a few similarities to that of Stasiak.” Duran steps through the ropes and enters the ring, walking towards the nearby turnbuckle and climbing to the top, throwing his arms up in the air with both middle fingers extended to incite the crowd some more.

 

“Similarities or no,” says Riley, “Duran did a great job leading the Unnamed after the ungrateful Charlie Matthews and Va’aiga left him holding the bag.”

 

“Even I have to agree with that,” concedes Comet. “As brief as his title reign might have been, John Duran was as good as anybody from the time that he took over the Unnamed to the day that he lost the World Title to Danny Williams. And even though it was only about a two-month span, he put together one of the more impressive runs in SWF history on his way to the Championship!” The music fades out as Duran paces around the ring, anxious to get the match started.

 

 

LEEEET'S GET RETARDED… IN HEEEEEEEEERE!

 

The Alamodome erupts into cheers as the Black Eyed Peas "Let's Get Retarded" begins to play:

 

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

There's no disrespect,

So, when I bust my rhyme,

You break your necks.

We got five minutes for us to disconnect,

From all intellect,

Collect the rhythm effect…

 

 

Suddenly, the cheering reaches an even higher level as the Birdman bursts from behind the curtain onto the stage, dancing around excitedly and flapping his "wings" in beat with the music. He thrills the crowd with a couple of acrobatic dance moves before running down towards the ring, stopping occasionally as he does so to shake hands with the fans at ringside. Birdman slides underneath the ring and pops to his feet quickly, running back towards the edge of the ring, where he leaps onto the middle ropes and holds his arms above his head.

 

“His opponent,” shouts Funyon, “from parts unknown,” weighing in at two hundred nineteen pounds, the BIIIIIRDMAN!” Birdman removes his cloth “wings” and tosses them over the top rope to the ring attendant as Funyon exits the ring.

 

“The high-flier,” exclaims Comet. “Listen to the crowd going crazy for the Birdman!” Birdman hops down from the ropes and turns to face his opponent as referee Eddy Long orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match…

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Bell’s gone,” says Comet, “and we’re underway!” Birdman and Duran circle each other before locking up in the center of the ring, and Duran easily muscles Birdy into a neutral corner. The referee forces himself between the two of them and demands a break, and the Notorious One backs away complacently, only to swing towards the corner to sucker punch his opponent… or so he thinks…

 

 

WHOOSH!

 

 

… Duran’s punch cuts wildly through the air that used to be occupied by the Birdman, who easily ducks underneath it and runs behind Duran back into the center of the ring. John turns around to find Birdy bouncing back and forth on his feet energetically, flapping his arms up and down as if they were wings. His irritation growing, the Notorious One stalks towards Birdman, backing him across the ring towards the other corner, and charging towards the Bird as soon as he believes that he has him trapped, but Birdy easily escapes again, ducking behind Duran as he charges uncontrollably into the corner…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

… And blasting the Notorious One in the face, as he turns around with a quick right jab! John, enraged by what he takes as a diss, charges after Birdman, but the much quicker high-flier avoids him with little effort and begins to stick and move, peppering Duran with quick right hands as he flits around him like a hummingbird. Feeling that he’s sufficiently softened up his opponent, Birdman grabs Duran by the wrist and whips him towards the corner, but John still has the presence of mind to reverse easily, sending him into the corner instead. Birdy leaps into the air as he approaches the corner, landing on the top turnbuckle and springs back off instantly…

 

 

… Twisting his body towards the ring as he smashes Duran with a missile dropkick!

 

 

“Tremendous missile dropkick by the Birdman,” shouts Comet, as Birdman grabs Duran’s leg and attempts to pin him. “And he’s already going for the win!” Long dives into position to count the shoulders as Birdman hopes to get a fluke pin:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

“You’re not going to get Duran that easily,” snaps Riley, as both men get to their feet. Birdman, however, is clearly the most aware of the two men, and he swoops in behind Duran like a hawk, hooking the inside of his leg and rolling him backwards into a school-boy pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

Birdman races towards the ropes as Duran rolls to his feet, diving at the Notorious One feet-first just as he stands up to knock him back down with a dropkick to the knees! He then quickly grabs Duran’s head and his nearest leg, cradling him into an Oklahoma Roll!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

Duran continues to kick out easily, even if it was a second or two later than his previous kickouts! Completely discombobulated, John stumbles to his feet, looking around frantically for his flighty opponent. Birdman feigns an attack on the Notorious One, taking a short hop in his direction and raising his arms slightly as if to strike, which causes John to flinch, tripping over his own feet as he staggers backwards, falling into the rope.

 

Birdman: CAW-CAW!

Crowd: CAW-CAW!

 

“Birdman has John Duran spinning around like a top,” exclaims Comet. “The Notorious One doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going!” Duran gets to his feet slowly, his eyes wide with rage, his nostrils flaring as he glares at the Birdman, who dances back and forth on his feet as he did before, waving his arms up and down defiantly at the Notorious One. Furiously, John charges towards Birdy, who steps aside once again, allowing him to run past him into the ropes, and hooks Duran underneath his arm as he bounces off the ropes, taking him over in a deep armdrag! Birdman beats Duran to his feet and races towards the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds and extending his body into a cross-body block on Duran, but the Notorious One snatches him out of the air!

 

“Hah,” snorts Riley. “Duran’s got him now!” Duran flips Birdman onto his shoulder and charges towards the corner, but before he can drop Birdman face-first onto the top turnbuckle, the high-flier wriggles out of his grasp and lands behind him, pushing him into the turnbuckles himself, and grabbing him by the waist as he bounces out of the corner to pull him into a rollup!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR— NO!

 

 

John kicks out with authority, propelling Birdman face-first into the corner, where his face smashes into the turnbuckles! Duran gets to his feet and walks over to the corner, pulling Birdman to his feet and grabbing him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring. Birdman leaps onto the top turnbuckle before he crashes into the corner and flips into the air as if preparing to launch himself into the ring, causing Duran to drop to the canvas in anticipation. But, instead of flipping into the ring, Birdman flips from the top turnbuckle to the middle turnbuckle, and quickly turns himself around to face the ring as the Notorious One remains on the mat, waiting for his opponent to drop.

 

“Get up, John,” shouts Riley. “He’s still on the ropes! He’s still on the ropes!” Birdman leaps off of the top turnbuckle before the unsuspecting Duran realizes what’s happened…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And nails him in the back of the head with the Bird Bomb!

 

“Bird Bomb,” shouts Comet. “That patented suicide headbutt of the Birdman!” Birdman rolls Duran over onto his back and lines his body up with the corner before giving the sign for the Bird Dropping!

 

 

Birdman: CAW-CAW!

Crowd: CAW-CAW!

 

“Birdman’s going for the Bird Dropping,” shrieks Comet, as Birdy steps out onto the apron. “If he hits this, it’s all over!” Birdman climbs effortlessly to the top turnbuckle, but before he can get into position to leap off, John Duran rolls out of the ring, escaping certain doom.

 

“Not so fast, Birdman,” mocks Riley. “Go ahead, Comet, give credit to John Duran for having the presence of mind to get out of the ring before getting hit by that Bird Dropping!”

 

“No question about it,” agrees Comet, as the Notorious One walks away from Birdman who is still perched on the top turnbuckle, watching his retreating opponent. “Duran is a former World Champion, after all. He knows when his opponent is going for a big move, and when it’s prudent to create a little distance.”

 

“Which is exactly what he’s doing,” says Riley, as Duran continues walking towards the foot of the ramp. “He’s using the ten-count to give himself a little breather!”

 

“I think he’s doing a little more than taking a breather,” notes Comet, as John waves his hands dismissively towards the ring. “It looks like he’s going back to the dressing room! I think that Citizen Duran’s decided the heck with it!” Referee Long continues his ten count as Duran turns his back to the ring and heads up the ramp, with the crowd jeering at him:

 

COW-ARD!

COW-ARD!

COW-ARD!

 

“Show some respect, people,” grumbles Riley. “That’s a former World Heavyweight Champion, there; he’s not a coward!” Birdman stares at Duran from the top turnbuckle and begins to step onto the top rope, as if intending to do something, but hesitates and drops down to the mat instead, running past the referee and leaping over the top rope to the floor, forcing the referee to restart his count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

“It looks like Birdman’s not willing to settle for a count-out victory,” says Comet. “Although I can’t help but wonder why he took so long to decide to go out after Duran…”

 

THREE!

 

“Because he’s an idiot, Comet,” replies Riley. “He’s only got a bird brain, after all!” Birdman runs up the ramp in hot pursuit of Duran, leaping onto his back and knocking him against the ramp!

 

FOUR!

 

He pulls the Notorious One to his feet and motions to the fans surrounding the barricade to clear some space, as he leads John over to the barricade and slams his face against it! John staggers backwards onto the ramp, and Birdman quickly knocks him off his feet with a leg sweep!

 

SIX!

 

Birdy drags Duran back to the foot of the ramp and lays him parallel with the ring as he runs back into the ring. Long continues his count as Birdman dashes behind him across the ring, increasing his velocity as he explodes off the ropes and runs back towards the edge of the ring facing the ramp before leaping into the air…

 

 

OVER THE REFEREE!

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… And out of the ring, crashing into Duran’s chest with a fantastic senton swan dive!

 

 

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

 

“By the wings of Pegasus,” shrieks Comet. “A Swanton Bomb to the arena floor! What an incredibly death-defying move that was!”

 

 

BIRD-MAN!

BIRD-MAN!

BIRD-MAN!

BIRD-MAN!

 

“What an incredibly STUPID move that was,” roars Riley, as Birdman rolls slowly onto his knees. “If Duran had moved out of the way, he would have broken every bone in his body! As it is, he looks like he’s barely able to move, and he actually HIT the damned thing!” Meanwhile, inside the ring, the referee re-starts his count once again:

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

“That could be a preview of what Birdman has in store for Sean Davis in the Hardcore Title match,” shouts Comet, as Birdy uses the barricade to pull himself to his feet. He staggers over to Duran and pulls him to his feet as well. Grabbing him by the wrist, Birdman whips John towards the edge of the ring apron…But the Notorious One suddenly surprises Birdman and everyone in the Alamodome, reversing the whip and pulling Birdy towards him, scooping him into he air…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

FIVE!

 

… And driving him into the solid steel ramp with a bone-crushing spinebuster! Duran leans backwards on his knees, breathing heavily as Birdman lies flat on his back, motionless.

 

“What an amazing counter by John Duran,” crows Riley. “That’s that kind of move that made him a World Champion!” Duran pushes himself wearily to his feet and grabs Birdman by the back of the head leading him over to the edge of the ring. He rolls him underneath the bottom rope and then slides in after him, breaking up the count, before getting back to his feet. He pulls Birdman up as well and wraps his arms around Birdy’s chest before popping his hips and lifting his opponent overhead…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Planting him into the mat with a devastating belly-to-belly suplex! He rolls over onto Birdman’s chest and applies a lateral press as Long drops down to count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE—

 

 

 

NO! BIRDMAN GETS THE SHOULDER UP!

 

 

“That was a close call by Birdman,” says Comet. “He just barely escaped that pinfall!” Duran pulls Birdy back to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him towards the ropes, and scoops the high-flier into his arms as he rebounds…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Planting him into the mat with a fierce powerslam! Duran gets back to his feet and backs into the ropes, bouncing off slowly as he stalks methodically towards Birdy, leaping into the air…

 

WHAM!

 

… And delivering a kneedrop to Birdman’s throat! Rather than attempt a cover at this point, Duran leaves is knee on Birdy’s throat, forcing Eddy Long to order him to break what has turned into a choke!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

Duran breaks on the count of four and pulls Birdman to his feet, driving knees into the Bird’s midsection as he forces him backwards into the ropes. The Notorious One grabs his opponent by the wrist and whips him across the ring, but as he lowers his head to deliver a backdrop, Birdy drops to his knees, slamming Duran on the back of his neck with a double sledge! Birdman uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet as Duran staggers backwards and leaps into action again, locking his hands behind John’s head as he plants his feet into his midsection…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… Before dropping his weight onto the mat, jamming both of his knees into Duran’s chin!

 

“Bird-breaker,” exclaims Comet. “Birdman’s got Duran on the run again! You know, Robert, for all the success that John Duran has had against the heavyweight division, cruiserweight wrestlers have historically given him massive amounts of trouble; he’s struggled against the likes of Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous… even Insane Luchador has given him trouble!” Birdman steps out onto the ring apron and walks to the corner, climbing a little more slowly than normal to the top turnbuckle and leaping off to catch Duran off guard…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But the Notorious One snatches Birdman out of the air, trapping him in a bearhug and charging into the corner, slamming his back against the turnbuckles!

 

“Beautiful spear by John Duran,” exclaims Riley. “Hey Comet, does that look like somebody who has trouble against cruiserweights?” Duran pushes Birdman down to the mat and rolls him onto his back before applying a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE—

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

“Boy, was that close,” sighs Comet. Duran wraps his massive hand around Birdman’s throat and begins to apply a choke as Long orders him to break:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

Once again, Duran breaks at the four count, only to resume the choke again!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

Long orders Duran to break, and Duran holds his hands at his sides innocently as the fans shower him with boos:

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“Duran has managed to rile up this passionate San Antonio crowd,” expresses Comet.

 

“Who cares,” counters Riley. “The fans are powerless to prevent John Duran from doing whatever the hell he wants to do with Birdman!” Duran pulls Birdman back to his feet and doubles him over, wrapping both hands around his waist and lifting him into the air in a gutwrench…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Before dropping down in a gutwrench powerbomb! He lies casually atop Birdy as Long drops down to count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

NO?

 

 

But, before Eddy Long’s hand can slap the canvas a third time, the Notorious One pulls Birdman’s shoulders up, a sick smile across his face, eliciting a chorus of jeers from the crowd:

 

DURAN SUCKS!

DURAN SUCKS!

DURAN SUCKS!

 

Ignoring them, Duran pulls Birdman to his feet, doubling him over again and casually applying a front-facelock before turning around to set up and reverse neckbreaker, but Birdy somehow wriggles free of his grasp and hooks his arms underneath the Notorious One’s dropping to his knees before taking him over in a backslide pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Duran gets to his feet quickly and charges towards Birdman, knocking him back to the mat with a wicked running shoulderblock!

 

“There you go, Duran,” applauds Riley. “Keep him from using his speed to his advantage!” Duran pulls Birdman to his feet and traps him in a front-facelock before lifting him off the mat, showing off his power by holding his opponent overhead with ease.

 

“Look at the power,” marvels Riley, as John continues to hold Birdman upside-down. “Duran can end this match any time he wants to!”

 

“He’d better be wary not to delay too long,” warns Comet. “Any time that he gives Birdman to catch his breath is too much!” Duran taunts the fans at ringside as he continues to suspend their hero upside-down, but his hubris proves to be his hamartoma, as his distraction allows Birdman to struggle his way out of John’s grip, and he applies a front-facelock of his own as he drops back towards the mat…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And plants the Notorious One with a ferocious DDT!

 

“Big-time DDT by the Birdman,” shouts Comet. “That could be the break that he needs!” Referee Long begins to deliver a ten-count on both fallen men:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

SIX!

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

EIGHT!

 

 

At the count of eight, Birdman rolls over to his knees and crawls over to Duran, applying a cover as the referee drops down to count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

NO!

 

 

“Duran gets the shoulder up,” shouts Riley. Birdman and Duran exchange punches as they get to their feet, and the stronger Duran easily wins this battle. He whips Birdman into the ropes…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And nails him as he bounces off the ropes with a hard forearm smash. He then runs to the ropes and leaps into the air as he rebounds to deliver a legdrop…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But crashes into the mat as Birdy rolls out of the way! Birdman beats Duran to his feet and runs towards the edge of the ring, exploding off the ropes as John stands up to blast him in the face with a flying forearm that knocks him to the mat! Rather than attempt a pin, Birdy immediate runs to the nearest corner and positions himself on the middle turnbuckle before leaping off…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And nailing Duran right between the eyes with a flying fistdrop! He hooks the leg and attempts to end the match as Long starts his count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE—

 

 

NO!

 

 

Duran still has enough power to kick out, but Birdy beats him to his feet and begins to flap his arms up and down as he waits for the Notorious One to stand up. The Bird runs towards John and steps onto his thigh as he starts to stand upright…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Drilling him in the back of the head with a climb-up enzugiri! Birdy rolls Duran onto his back and scrambles to his feet, getting the crowd to join him in a birdcall:

 

 

Birdman: CAW-CAW!

Crowd: CAW-CAW!

 

Birdman runs to the edge of the ring and leaps onto the second rope, flipping backwards to land on his opponent with an Asai moonsault…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But the Notorious One rolls out of the way, and watches as Birdman crashes into the mat!

 

“That’s the trouble with the cruiserweight offense,” laughs Riley, as John uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, “sooner or later, you have to put your body at risk to try and finish your opponent, and it usually backfires!” Duran looks out into the crowd and gives the sign for the Blunt Force Trauma.

 

“Blunt Force Trauma,” sings Riley, as Duran pulls Birdman to his feet. “If he hits this, it’s all over!” Duran stands behind Birdman and lifts him up into a torture rack position. He shrugs his opponent’s lower body off of his shoulder and flings it over to the other side as he drops towards the mat to deliver the BFT, but the momentum allows Birdman to use his agility to roll forwards rather than backwards. Birdy lands on his feet in front of Duran as he falls onto the canvas…

 

 

SMACK!

 

 

… And hops into the air, blasting the Notorious One in the face with a front dropkick!

 

“He got out,” cries Comet. “Birdman somehow escaped the Blunt Force Trauma! What a trooper!” Without wasting any time, Birdman pulls John to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, but Duran reverses easily, sending the Bird crashing into the corner. He charges after him in order to squash him against the turnbuckles…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But Birdy dives out of the corner, and the Notorious One crashes shoulder-first into the turnbuckles. Birdman runs to the ropes as John staggers out of the corner and leaps into the air as he bounces off the ropes, snaring Duran with a side headlock…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And driving him face-first into the canvas with a Bulldog! The crowd explodes as Birdman pops to his feet and gives another birdcall:

 

Birdman: CAW-CAW!

Crowd: CAW-CAW!

 

“Bulldog out of the corner,” shouts Comet, as Birdman steps out onto the apron. “And we all know what’s coming next!” Birdy climbs quickly onto the top turnbuckle, not daring to give the Notorious One another opportunity to recuperate.

 

“Come on, John,” pleads Riley. “You got away once; you need to do it one more time!” But, it is not to be, as Birdman leaps off the top turnbuckle, diving into the ring with the velocity of a peregrine falcon…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And crashes into Duran’s chest with his patented top-rope sit-down splash!

 

“Bird Dropping,” exclaims Comet, as Birdman reaches back to hook the leg. “Nobody gets up from that!” Eddy Long drops to his knees and delivers the count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

The referee orders the timekeeper to ring the bell, and the Alamodome erupts as “Let’s Get Retarded” begins to blast through the speakers. Funyon rises from his seat to make the announcement. “Here is your winner, the BIIIIRDMAN!”

 

“Big win by the Birdman over the former World Champion,” exclaims Comet. “That should give him a huge amount of momentum as he heads towards into his shot at the Hardcore Title! If he can hit that move on Sean Davis, we’ll be looking at a new Hardcore Champion! Stick around, folks for some more wild SWF Action, right after this!”

[Thoth 0]

As Storm returns from commercial, we find Birdman seated in his locker room, a towel draped over his head, obscuring any view of his face, and his mask lying on the bench beside him. He is bent over at the waist, breathing heavily, trying to recuperate from his grueling match against John Duran, when Michael Anderson limps into the locker room, holding his ever-present briefcase. He sets the briefcase down and sits across from Birdman.

 

“That was a close one,” he says, causing Birdman to look up, but by this time, the camera’s angle has shifted behind Birdman, meaning that the audience is only able to see the back of his towel. “I was watching you out there tonight; you came dangerously close to forcing our hand!”

 

Realizing his error, Birdman hangs his head once again as Anderson continues. “Anyway, I think that the developments that took place on Smarkdown put a bit of a new spin on your assignment, wouldn’t you say?” Birdman nods in agreement, prompting Anderson to keep talking. “I think now might be a good time to bring him in. Do you want me to make the call?”

 

Birdman nods again.

 

Anderson nods as well. “You’re the boss. I’ll set everything up tonight. Now… onto new business.” With that, Anderson opens up his briefcase and pulls out a dossier, handing it to Birdman. “This is all the information that I was able to compile on Davis. You’d do well to absorb that in its entirety. I’ll have the enhancement talent waiting on us by Sunday morning to…”

 

Suddenly, Birdman begins shaking his head vigorously. “What’s wrong with Sunday?” Birdman tilts his head slightly, and although the audience can not see the expression on his face, it can be easily surmised by Anderson’s reaction. “Oh yeah, right. Well, I’ll reschedule for the afternoon, then; I’m sure he’ll want to come to.”

 

With that, Anderson uses his cane to help push himself to his feet and begins limping towards the door. “Well, I have an appointment with Zenon to discuss your title shot. Start studying that dossier… And for God’s sake,” he says just before walking out the door, “put that mask back on before somebody sees you!”

[Thoth 0]

The arena is still abuzz from the previous action that we had as we return from commercial break, Funyon standing in the ring ready to announce the rules and participants for the next match.

 

Funyon: The following contest is a Sudden Death Fatal Four Way match. In this contest, the first participant to score a pin-fall or submission will be the winner, and will become the Number One Contender for the SWF Intercontinental Television Championship!

 

"This is a match with major implications on careers...this match could very well build or rebuild someone's career, as the winner of this match will get a chance at the ICTV title, currently held by Landon Maddix." Comet comments as the arena gets ready for the match to begin.

 

Riley is about to say something, but the dimming lights followed by pyro going off in the arena interrupts him, as does the opening chords to No Doubt's "Just A Girl." From the entryway, Andrea makes her way out, the fans giving her a respectful positive reaction as she makes her way out.

 

Funyon: Participant number one...from Biloxi, Mississippi, weighing in at 143 pounds...ANDREA...MONTGOMERY!

 

"Citizen Andrea has been put mostly in tag team matches with her partner The Birdman, so one would have to wonder if she's got what it takes to get the title shot tonight." Comet notes as Andrea makes her way out.

 

"She's a girl in a man's world, Comet." Riley begins. "She's going to be severely out-classed by at least ONE of the talents in this match tonight, I guarantee you."

 

As Andrea launches herself in the ring, the arena lights dim again, silence filling the arena as the capacity crowd for a minute. After a while, "Dope Hat" by Marilyn Manson starts playing, and the crowd starts cheering again as the Hardcore Maniac makes his way out.

 

Funyon: Participant number 2...from Vancouver, British Columbia...weighing in at 243 pounds...JAMIE DRAZON...HARDCORE MANIAC!

 

"And the crowd showing their respect for the man that was in the main event at Genesis III!" Comet notes, as Drazon starts his serious, all business walk to the ring, cracking his knuckles at various points as he does. "He means business tonight, and a win could help him get back into the high status that he was a while back."

 

"But I don't think this old man has what it takes to get the job done!" Riley notes. "He may be able to rough around Andrea, but his age is catching up to him!"

 

"The guy is only in his 30s, Riley!" Comet protests.

 

"Around here, that seems old." Riley retorts, just as "Bitch" starts playing in the arena, and all the cheering dies down.

 

Funyon: The manager for participant number 3...the self-proclaimed Future Owner of SWF...KELLY...CONNELLY!

 

Upon her name being called out, Kelly starts her walk to the ring, tonight wearing a black business-suit as she makes her way to the ring. Ignoring the negative reactions put out her way, she slinks into the ring and snatches the microphone from Funyon.

 

"Now, Mr. Amateur Ring Announcer, let me show you how a PROFESSIONAL does it!" Kelly begins, causing Funyon to glare at her angrily. "Here we are once again, to welcome in the new age of wrestling. Now everyone in this arena, I want you all to stand up, and show your respect for the next competitor...the man that WILL win this contest...the man that WILL make all his opponents in this match seem inferior...which they are, by the way..."

 

"Kelly's not making many friends here, Riley." Comet notes as the boos and "Slut" chants build up.

 

"Shut up Comet, let your future boss talk!"

 

"Your NEXT SWF ICTV champion...the greatest of all time..."THE ICON"...MAX...KING!"

 

As if on cue, and explosion of fireworks goes off, and "Superstar" starts to play over the speakers, King standing on the entryway proudly.

 

"There's your winner right there, Comet!" Riley states as King absorbs the boos as if the crowd was standing on their feet cheering for him. "This is the man that is going to take the ICTV Title off of Maddix! It's only a matter of..."

 

Before Riley can even finish his statement, King suddenly tumbles down flat on his face, Manson standing behind him with an enraged look on his face!

 

"Manson coming out of nowhere and attacking Max King before the match has even started!" Comet deduces as Manson grabs the retreating King by the hair, slamming him face-first into the rampway. "He wants revenge for King's attack on Storm and King costing him the USJL Championship!"

 

"The match hasn't even started yet!" Riley protests! However, Riley's protest is moot when Manson throws King into the ring, causing the bell to ring and the three other participants to lay in the boots to the self proclaimed Icon. King struggles to get out of the ring, but Manson is there to make sure that doesn't happen, sliding out of the ring and pushing King back in, enjoying seeing the punishment that his enemy is in. Andrea and Drazon continue to attack for a bit, until Drazon suddenly turns and blasts Andrea out of nowhere with a clothesline, taking her down to the mat hard. Manson finally gets into the ring to continue the battle, and as he does Kelly pulls King out to give him a breather, as Drazon goes for a cover on the downed Andrea.

 

One

 

TWO!

 

Manson grabs the leg of Drazon and pulls him off of Andrea just before the three count can be laid down, saving the match.

 

"Close call right there, we almost had a winner in the very early goings of the match." Comet notes. "It was almost too close for your chosen winner there..."

 

"Oh shut up Comet! This match is far from over!" Riley replies bitterly.

 

Drazon gets back up to his feet and starts getting into a fist-fight with Manson in the ring, Manson getting caught off guard due to focusing on King from even before the bell rings, and as such gets caught in the corner, where Drazon starts pressing an elbow into the rib area of Manson to work him over. Meanwhile, on the outside of the ring, Kelly tries to get King back up to his feet, at the same time moving King's arms towards the ring apron. Once recovered enough, King reaches into the ring...seemingly ready to go back in, but seeing Drazon putting the pressure on Manson, King decides instead to reach into the ring and pull Andrea outside of the ring to further the punishment. Andrea gets up to her feet just in time to get chopped right across her chest, a sickening smack reverberating through the arena and the crowd wincing at it. Andrea holds her chest a bit, as King grabs her by the hair, moving her towards the ring steps to apparently smash her face into them. Andrea, still a bit woozy, uses this as her chance to get an advantage, and grabs King's legs with her own legs, causing "The Icon" to smash face first into the ring steps.

 

"NOOO!" Riley cries out at seeing King get steps to the face. "That's not possible!"

 

"It is, and Andrea did it!" Comet notes. "And now she's ready to get back into the mix in the ring!"

 

Andrea climbs up onto the ring apron as Drazon flips Manson onto his back in the ring with a judo throw, turning it into an arm-bar in the ring...but doesn't get to wrench the hold too long as Andrea leaps into the ring and dropkicks Drazon with all her bodyweight, knocking the veteran down to the mat again. Andrea waits for Drazon to get back up to his feet, and when he's standing goes off the ropes and catches him with a nicely placed swinging neckbreaker. She tries to go for a cover, but Drazon kicks out of the pin before even a one count. Andrea doesn't wait this time for Drazon to get back up, using the ropes to boost herself up and flip onto Drazon with a nicely placed Asai Moonsault, staying on once again on Drazon for a pin.

 

One!

 

T...No, this time Manson pulls Andrea off of Drazon, going for a cover himself!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

Drazon manages to get a shoulder off of the mat just before a 3 count can be laid down. Manson is about to go for something, but Andrea pulls him away and goes to drop him down with a hurricanrana. Manson however holds onto the move when she's up with it, ready to drop her down with a powerbomb...but this time Max King, who was taking his time getting back into the ring, takes this moment to dump both Andrea and Manson out of the ring, causing both combatants to land in a heap on the arena floor. King turns his attention now to Drazon, who he THOUGHT was still down on the mat, but gets surprised when he sees that Drazon is already up to his feet, shaking off what happened to him. King rushes in to nail Drazon in the head with an elbow shot to the head, but Drazon dodges the move just in time, catching King in the gut with a knee, then take him over with a snap suplex. Rolling over King, he grabs King's face and squeezes with all of his strength, turning it into a modified version of his Iron Claw hold.

 

"Citizen Drazon now looks like he's planning on making Max King tap out to that devastating nerve hold, now lifting King back up to his feet as he does!" Comet states. "Drazon pulling King in closer...and catches him hard in the face with a Yakuza Kick!"

 

"Come on King, fight out of this! Or hold on until one of the other morons get into the ring to help out!" Riley calls out.

 

As Drazon continues to squeeze with the Iron Claw, both Manson and Andrea climb back up on the apron, ready to get into the ring. Andrea is a bit faster in getting into the ring, and uses this a chance to go off of the ropes and dropkick Drazon in the back of the head again, causing Drazon to fall flat on top of King. The position that Drazon is in allows a pinfall to be counted, however Andrea drops a leg right on the back of Drazon's neck. Andrea is about to attempt something else, however Manson gets behind Andrea just in time to whip her off the ropes, lifting her off the mat and dropping her with a back body drop. With Drazon and Andrea both down, Manson once again turns his attention over to Max King, who is on his knees and holding his face from the Iron Claw. He then notices that Manson is stalking him, and starts to beg off a bit.

 

"Smart move King, try to reason with the psychopath!" Riley says. "He may just listen to a smarter person like you."

 

"Manson isn't going to listen to King after everything that they've been through." Comet reminds.

 

Manson continues to approach King, who is still trying to convince Manson to back of for a minute, just in time as Drazon has recovered and drops Manson on the back of his neck with a textbook German Suplex. Drazon bridges for a pin, but King takes this chance to give some punishment to Manson, stomping Manson right in the solo plexus as he's bridged like that, causing the former USJL champion to lose the breath in his body! Drazon blinks, about to attack King for costing a pin attempt, but King starts reasoning with Drazon, pointing to Manson as he does.

 

"What is going on here? This isn't a good..." Comet tries to begin.

 

"This is brilliant! King's making an ally in the ring, and they're going to take all their in-ring skills out on Manson!" Riley says, almost overjoyed! "That's why King is the smartest person in this match!"

 

Drazon shrugs in an almost "What the Hell" gesture, and lifts up Manson with his claw hold, similar to what he did just moments ago to Max King. Manson struggles and tries to get free, however King grabs the legs of Manson while he's prone, and the two combatants lift Manson up above their heads, before letting go and letting Manson land face first on the mat below. King starts putting the boots to Manson now, stomping away at the leg area of his rival to get some measure of revenge for Manson attacking him before the match started, while Drazon simply steps back and watches.

 

"This doesn't look good right now for Manson, as apparently Max King and Jamie Drazon are both working together to take Manson out of this match so they both would have a better chance at winning." Comet notes.

 

"And it's about time that Drazon did something smart like this. Aligning with King is one of the best moves that he can make to re-build his career!" Riley states.

 

After a few good stomps, King lifts Manson back up into a somewhat standing position, and when he's ready, lifts Manson for his Jumping Piledriver. To add more damage, however, Drazon comes over, pushing the legs of Manson down as King goes to land with the piledriver!

 

"SPIKE JUMPING PILEDRIVER! BRILLIANT!" Riley exclaims, almost sounding like he's going to have an orgasm at the announcer's table. "That will teach that back-fighter exactly what happens to his kind!"

 

"This does not bode well at all for Manson, and King high fives Drazon...apparently thanking him for..."

 

Before Comet can finish his statement, Drazon grabs the hand of King and pulls him in, flinging him over his head with an overhead Belly to Belly suplex, much to the cheer of the crowd watching this match!

 

"Drazon double-crossed King!" Comet notes! "And now Drazon is the only one standing tall in the middle of the ring!"

 

Drazon waits for King to get back up a bit, and rushes in, pushing off of King's knee to kick him right in the face!

 

"The Shining Black out of nowhere! Max King too close to the ropes and rolls out of the ring, but I don't think that Drazon really cares about that right now! He's now turned to Manson!" Comet commentates, as the Hardcore Maniac approaches Manson, going to pin him in the middle of the ring!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

THREE...NO!

 

Andrea hit a moonsault onto the back of Drazon as he was trying to get the win over Manson, breaking up the pin attempt once again, giving the rest of the combatants another chance in this match. Andrea repeatedly strikes with kicks to the face of Drazon while he's still down on the mat, hoping to weaken the veteran just enough to make him easier prey for something much bigger. With King rolling out of the ring and Manson still down in the middle of the ring, the action is solely focused on Andrea and Drazon, as Andrea starts hitting away at the body of Drazon.

 

"And there's the 270 drop-kick to finish of her Coastal Combo. Drazon caught off guard by the sudden attacks of Montgomery, and she's taking full advantage of her moment of an advantage!" Comet notes.

 

"She's just getting lucky with those moves and you know it Comet! This can't last much longer!" Riley protests.

 

Andrea steps back a bit, then rolls forward, leaping up and dropping Drazon's jaw with a great jawbreaker...her Tuckerman and Roll move, leaving Drazon prone for even more punishment. Andrea uses her speed to avoid the retaliatory punches from Drazon, going onto the top rope and dropping him with a two-handed facebuster. She rolls Drazon over for another cover...

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

Drazon somehow manages to get a shoulder up, though not as strong as he was doing before. Andrea seems to be a bit frustrated that nothing that she is doing is keeping Drazon down for the three count, and goes to climb to the top rope this time to try something really big. Before she can however, Max King seems to come back from his time out of the ring, and pushes her all the way off of the top rope, all the way face first onto the ring barricade! King now climbs up to the top rope, and leaps off with his patented flying elbow drop...catching nothing but ring-apron as Drazon manages to roll out of the way just at the last minute!

 

"And that sneak attack by King did NOT pay off! King now down once again, and at the mercy...if there is any...of the Hardcore Maniac!" Comet states.

 

Drazon goes off the ropes when he's fully back onto his feet, and times a knee drop right into the arm that hit onto the mat with the flying elbow drop, then stays on with it and starts to bend the arm into positions it's not meant to go in, using his knee as a pressure point.

 

"Hey, leave King alone! There's two people out cold right now, and you're picking on the smart one in the ring!" Riley whines!

 

"That would seem like a smart move to me, Riley. He's the least hurt, and thus would probably be the best choice to try and take out!"

 

King struggles a bit as Drazon slows down the pace of the match with this arm-hold, before sweeping his other leg out just enough to push the foot against King's head, bending the neck into an awkward position of it's own. The fans seem to be loving the fact that Drazon is putting Max through the proverbial wringer in the ring at the moment, and they cheer as loud as they can for it...even starting up a good "DRA-ZON" chant. This causes Kelly to shout angrily on the outside of the ring for the fans to shut up, then noticing Andrea get up, she takes the moment with the referee not looking to revive the high-flying female!

 

"Wait a second, why is Kelly helping Andrea up? That doesn't make any sense! What's wrong with you, you bimbo!" Riley says angrily at Connelly.

 

"Perhaps she wants Andrea to stop Drazon from winning the match again, just like she did a few minutes ago." Comet notes.

 

"...that's a brilliant move Kelly! Get that bimbo up and back into the mix!"

 

Andrea pulls away from Kelly when she realizes who it is helping her up, and Kelly looks fearful as Andrea approaches her. Andrea notices back to the ring, where she sees King in a position that could cause him to tap out, and slides back into the ring as quickly as she can...but stops before attacking someone.

 

"Andrea is indecisive it seems. She can't decide what to do in there!" Comet notes!

 

"Just like a woman to not know what to do in the ring! That's why they don't belong here as wrestlers. Even Kelly here is well aware of that fact, Comet!"

 

Andrea seems to be ready to strike either King or Drazon...but then bolts to the side of both of them, rolling up a finally recovering Manson into a pinning predicament of her own!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

Drazon acts quickly and lets go of the hold that he had locked on King, breaking up the pin attempt with a forearm to the back of Andrea's head. Drazon pushes Andrea away, and now he tries to pin Manson!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

This time it's Andrea who strikes the back of Drazon's head, breaking up that pin attempt! Drazon shoves Andrea away, glaring angrily at her for costing him a chance at victory in the middle of the ring. Andrea doesn't want to hear it, going off the ropes...and getting caught right in the jaw with Drazon's Thai Roundhouse kick...knocking her down and out of the ring once again. With Andrea seemingly out of the way, Drazon starts to scale the ring ropes, using them to get some height for his next move...a seemingly desperate Swandive Headbutt...which was targeted for Manson until Max King pulls him out of the way, causing Drazon to hit the mat face first. King drapes an arm over the chest of Manson, thinking he's still out cold, but gets surprised when Manson rolls with the move onto his chest, thus causing no count to be laid down. King and Manson both start to get back up to their feet, King a bit faster as only his arm was damaged with the moves that Drazon was trying, but Manson gets the first attack in when he strikes King hard into the lower abdomen with a headbutt! With King doubled over, Manson uses his body to boost himself onto his feet, before grabbing the head of King and dropping him back down to the mat head first with a DDT. Manson goes for a cover!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

Drazon pushes in and pushes Manson off of King, then slides on top himself!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

King kicks out just inches before the three count can be completed, thus continuing this match!

 

"What a test of endurance for all four participants in this match!" Comet notes with pride. "Even Max King is starting to impress me out there with all the kick-outs."

 

"Well it's about time that you sang the praises of King, Comet! There may be hope for you yet!" Riley says with a smirk on his face.

 

Drazon looks back and forth to both King and Manson, trying to decide who would be the best to target...and finally decides on Max King, lifting the relative rookie to him off of the ground, hoisting him up for the Demolition Dreams...only to be caught right into the ribs with a hard elbow shot by Manson! King falls down off of the shoulders of Drazon, falling down with a reverse DDT...the base of Drazon's neck landing squarely on the point of King's knee!

 

"Now look at this, Riley. King and Manson are along with each other in the ring once again...and if what Manson and King did to each other earlier is any indication, this is..."

 

Comet stops what he's saying when he sees something that shocks him...as King and Manson just look to each other, before both laying the boots in now onto Drazon!

 

"Manson has finally seen the light! He's finally seen that Max King isn't such a bad guy, and has decided to align himself with him to take out a common enemy!" Riley beams.

 

Manson lifts up Drazon to his feet, and when the moment is just right, leaps up, grabs the head of Drazon, and falls with it into the Consequences! King lifts Drazon back up, preventing Manson from going to pin the Hardcore Maniac, and grabbing him by the head in a similar hold to a reverse DDT...grabbing one of Drazon's legs as he does, and drops him down with the King Buster in the middle of the ring, but this time not staying on for the cover...as he stands up and looks into the eyes of Manson.

 

"Now we see what that temporary alliance was all about." Comet realizes. "Manson and King wanted to take out any other opposition so they could both concentrate on taking out each other!"

 

Just as Comet finishes their statement, the two combatants get ready to start brawling with each other....but once again Andrea proves to be an opportunist, reaching into the ring and pulling on the ankles of both competitors, causing them to fall down to the mat!

 

"And Andrea is somehow still alive in this match! She's once again prolonged the ending by attacking the remaining participants!" Comet states!

 

Riley scoffs. "What a cheap fighter Andrea is here! No wonder she mostly sticks to tag team matches...there she has someone to help her out in the ring! Otherwise, she would have to resort to cheating like she's been doing this entire match!"

 

Andrea, through the pain that she's feeling, manages to claw her way back onto the ring apron, rolling in under the bottom rope. Rubbing her jaw in pain she goes to stand up, looking over the lay of the land. Seeing King getting back up to his feet, she takes this moment to go in, using King's shoulder as a base for a handstand, then finishes it off with her Handstand Neckbreaker, taking King all the way down to the mat once again. She doesn't go for the pin this time, seeing that Manson is starting to get back up as well...she attempts to do the exact same thing to him, and is successful once again in her attempt. She rolls over Manson for the pin, thinking that she has it...

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

THREE...NO!

 

Though the referee didn't see it, Kelly had enough time to rush over to that side of the ring where Manson was, grabbing his foot and putting it onto the ropes just before the three count was put down. Andrea manages to see Kelly do this on the outside, and as Kelly has her back turned to wipe her brow in relief that she got there in time, Andrea climbs up to the top rope, waiting for the right moment. As soon as Kelly turns back around, Andrea leaps off, landing right on top of Max King's manager with a modified version of a 450 splash, causing Connelly to crumple into a heap on the arena floor as she was not prepared to take such a move. Andrea seems pleased with herself seeing what happened to Kelly with that, and rolls back into the ring to continue on with the match. Using the ropes as a boost for herself, she goes onto the top rope, springing off of it, and catches a kneeling Max King with a dropkick to the side of the head. Andrea gets back up almost immediately after catching King, and now focuses all of her attacks on the self-proclaimed Icon of SWF, striking him quickly and without taking a break. She makes a mistake when she tries to kick King in the face, as King grabs her leg and whips it hard, causing her to go crashing down onto the mat once again.

 

With Andrea down for the moment, King gets back up onto his feet and moves in to strike Manson, who is up into a sitting position. King takes this as a chance to grab the head of Manson while he's down, rolling forward with it and snapping Manson's head to his chest in one fluid motion.

 

"That's the way King, but don't just ignore the chick! She hurt YOUR woman, remember!" Riley tries to motivate!

 

"Since when did you become King's manager, Riley?" Comet questions.

 

"With Kelly indisposed for the moment, who better than me to do so?"

 

King seems to be oblivious as both Andrea and Drazon start to recover, taking this as a chance to continue to get his "revenge" on Manson while he's down...grabbing Manson's arms and putting a knee between his shoulder-blades, pulling the arms back to stretch out Manson's body...possibly for something even more devastating a little bit later. Manson screams out in pain as his body is stretched out to uncomfortable positions, but doesn't seem to have any intentions of giving up the match. Instead, he pushes up with his legs as best he can, and finally rolls on top of King while the hold is still on!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

King lets go of the hold and shove Manson off of him as quickly as he can, panting as he realizes just how close he was to being defeated. He gets up as quickly as he can, and when he does, starts breathing a bit to start to calm himself down...then reaches down to pick up Manson...just as Drazon grabs a leg of Manson and pulls him away from King's grasp, and Andrea comes in from behind and rolls over the back of King while he's bent over, then uses her hands as a brace as she mule-kicks King right in the gut.

 

"And now the groups have broken off...Drazon taking on Manson after King worked over him, while Andrea seems ready to take care of King while he was distracted!" Comet states!

 

"That worthless set of tits should know better than to get involved in a rivalry like Manson and King's! That was their fight, not hers!" Riley protests!

 

"But she's a legal participant in this match as well, and she has every right to attack anyone in this match as anyone else!" Comet states.

 

Andrea leaps up once again, this time flipping over the head of Max King as she falls down, falling with King and causing him to get dropped with a neckbreaker! On the other side of the ring, Drazon sneaks his head under the arm of Manson, and flips him over with a Northern Lights Suplex! Both Andrea and Drazon cover their respective opponents at the same time, and the referee can't seem to decide who to count for...so he just goes down between the two and counts both pins at the same time.

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

THREE...NO!

 

Both King and Manson somehow manage to kick out of their moves at the same time, preventing a very confusing ending to the match from happening. Andrea and Drazon lift both of their opponents up to their feet at the same time, but the match suddenly turns into a four way slug fest, as the four participants start to pound away on each other with hard fists to the faces of their rivals. Manson and Drazon both seem evenly matched in their punches, but King's strength manages to get the better of Andrea, actually busting the forehead of Andrea open with one punch that catches her right on the forehead.

 

"I think this match is coming down to the wire, Riley. All it will take is one person getting something big in for the final ending of the match, and we'll have a new number one contender for the ICTV championship!"

 

King grabs the now bleeding Andrea and pulls her back to her feet, picking her up to slam her hard down to the ground...but Andrea slips from behind and locks in a desperate sleeper onto King. On the other side of the ring, Manson swings wildly once...and Drazon takes this opportunity to lock in a Kataha Jime in almost a split second!

 

"And it looks like Drazon's going to get the win! He's got the Kataha Jime locked in tightly on Manson, and it doesn't look like..."

 

Riley suddenly interrupts Comet. "But look on the other side of the ring! King is pushing Andrea into the ropes as she holds onto that submission..."

 

At the apron, just out of sight from the referee, Kelly Connelly has finally revived enough, as she reaches in and grabs the ankle of Andrea...pulling her out of the sleeper and flat onto her face!

 

"Kelly getting involved where she doesn't belong once again, and the referee is too busy with the submission of Drazon to notice!" Comet notes!

 

"That's his own dumb fault, not Kelly's!" Riley protests. "That should teach him to do his job better!"

 

King gives Kelly the thumbs up as Andrea starts getting back up to her feet. King takes this moment to grab her head, lifting her up off the mat, and at the last moment turning the lift into a nicely place King Buster right in the middle of the ring! He quickly stays over for the cover, calling the referee over so he realizes that he's pinning Andrea!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

THREE! Just a split second before Manson taps out!

 

Funyon: Here is your winner..."THE ICON"...MAX...KING!

 

"See Comet! I TOLD you that King would get the victory, and yet you doubted me!" Riley boasts!

 

"Max King wouldn't have won the match if it wasn't for Kelly getting involved in the match and you know it, Riley! King is a lucky man, but you have to wonder..."

 

"...how easy it will be for King to win the ICTV championship, right?"

 

"...that's not...oh just forget it."

 

King rolls out of the ring just before Drazon can get to him, Kelly and King holding each other up as they both make their way to the back. King has a huge smile on his face at getting the victory in the match, the remaining three battered, bruised...and angry at the ending.

[Thoth 0]

To catering we go, where Chris Card is busy pouring himself a cup of coffee. Yep...busy night for him. Everything seems to be going his way in life at the moment, whistling merrily to himself as he grabs a small pot of milk and begins to pour it into his cup...

 

 

 

...as Natasha goes jogging past him, hardly even noticing Card there. Looking confused, Card dumps the rest of the milk into his cup which promptly over-flows with milky coffee...so saying 'to hell with it', Card leaves it and jogs after Natasha. And the camera follows, as out of shot Petey The Irish Penguin waddles over and starts to sniff curiously at the mysterious liquid.

 

"'Tash! 'Tash, wait up!"

 

Turning around, a look of worry can clearly be seen on her face as she glares at Card.

 

"What?" Card asks, looking a little worried himself.

 

"Have you seen Megan since we got here?"

 

"No...no, she's still in..."

 

"Pheonix? No she's not Chris." Natsha says, and suddenly Card's face matches Natasha's in worry. "I called the hotel and she checked out yesterday night. I checked with as many airports as I could in the area, and apparantly she got a flight late last night...to Dallas."

 

"Dallas?"

 

"Yeah, you know...place in Texas, used to be the name of a soap opera..."

 

"Why is she in Dallas?"

 

"She's not." Natasha mumbles, looking over her shoulder.

 

"Huh? I...I don't get it..."

 

"She got the flight to Dallas, right? Well, when I heard that I didn't think much of it...after all, Dallas is where we're getting our flight out from next. So, I just kinda forgot about it. Until I went to talk to Zenon and...well.."

 

"Well?"

 

"...I saw her. Here."

 

Card still looks a little worried by his business partner's body language, but equally looks confused as Natasha waits for him to take the hint.

 

"So...if she's here, then why haven't we seen her?"

 

"..."

 

"'Tasha..."

 

"I think..."

 

"...what?"

 

"She knows..."

 

Now, the confusion has gone...and Card's jaw drops, as Natasha raises her eyebrows as if to say 'do you see now?'.

 

"Shit."

 

And he does. Natasha looks back over her shoulder as suddenly Card breaks forward, beginning to run down the hallway with Natasha right behind him every step and stride of the way.

 

 

 

Something's up.

Edited August 21, 2004 by Thoth

[Thoth 0]

SLAM!

 

”Zenon!”

 

Alex barely has time to close the Furfire window before the Suicide King comes storming through the doors of his office, already hell-bent on something or other.

 

“What is this nonsense I am being told about one Bryan Levy? Where the hell did my match go? Where the hell did my rookie go? Those goddamn vignettes are all extremely expensive to produce –“

 

Without so much as a word or a look up at the latest in the SWF’s long line of co-owners, Zenon hands Levy’s drug test results to King. The co-owner of the federation snatches it away and glances down at it – and suddenly his furious expression becomes confused.

 

“This one graph here, on the right. The one that’s off the page…what the hell is it for?”

 

”I don’t recognize that one, either.”

 

King pauses a moment longer, considering…then tosses the report back on the commissioner’s desk.

 

“Why does this matter? I don’t see steroids on here!”

 

”They’re the only bar that’s not there, King.”

 

“The rest of these aren’t performance-enhancing. What in the blue hell were you thinking?”

 

Zenon takes a very, very deep breath – he’s out of TUMS at this point – before responding. “King, this…this junkie is hooked on every drug known to man since 1533 A.D. There is no way we can hire him and not have the worst media scandal since Mayor McCheese was crucified live on IGNite.”

 

”Yes, we will.” King smiles. “And it will be glorious. Think of the buyrates for Genesis V. Think of what we’ll be able to charge for ad slots the Storm beforehand. Think about the lovely year-end bonus you’ll be receiving.”

 

Zenon smirks. ”Why the hell do you care about this? Shouldn’t I be booking Mark against the entire fed twice or something?”

 

“Cute, Alex. When Mark is gone – and by Genesis, he will be gone, I assure you – I will assume control of the company once again, and I am trying to look after the interests of my company. Levy is a natural draw, win or lose, and the crowd is going to love him even more after they find out why his match was canceled – which is the only reason I haven’t fired you outright for this little disaster, I might add.”

 

”King, you are not listening. Levy is a danger to anybody he steps in the ring with –“

 

”Oh, for Christ’s sake, Alex. Do you want to deal with Kibagami’s students, or would you rather deal with Kibagami?”

 

There is a long, long pause where Alex Zenon attempts to simultaneously grind his teeth and bite his tongue. Failing this, he replies through gritted teeth:

 

”Fine. He’ll be on the next card.”

 

King sighs, a condescending look on his face. “Honestly, Alex, do I have to threaten you every time I want something done? Just remember that I’ll get around to eventually next time and do what I damn well say, would you?”

 

The Suicide King makes his exit without giving Zenon time to respond, making sure to leave the door ajar on his way out.

 

The commissioner sighs and leans back in his chair, trying to process what has just transpired. Trying to prepare himself for the excruciating phone call where he will offer Bryan Levy a job, again. Trying to make some sense of what his life has become in the last several weeks.

 

Alex Zenon is going to need some more TUMS.

[Thoth 0]

Fade in from the commercial for ’Aliens v. Predators v. Kibigami’ and into the sold out Alamo Center that is rocking and rolling. The signs are numerous and insulting , as usual. Also, the gruesome twosome is at the desk…

 

“WELCOME BACK TO S - W - F STOOOOOOOOOOOOOORM!~” Cyclone yells as the fans continue to pop. Someone must be giving out t-shirts. “Alongside me as always is Bobby Riley, and I am CYCLLLLLLLLLLLONE COMET~!”

 

“Everyone knows that,” says Riley. “People who haven ever heard of wrestling in the Congo know who you are…”

 

Beat.

 

“…because they just heard you screaming!” Riley finishes.

“Temper, temper Robert.” says Comet. “We’ve already had a few outstanding matches, and it continues now as Citizen Sly and Citizen Cross meet up with the number one contendership for the USJL title is on the line!”

“Well, Sly is sort of becoming wishy washy, but he’s still better than Cross.” says Riley.

“Looks like Funyon is ready to go, Bobb-o,” says Comet as Funyon enters the ring.

“You are ever the master of observation,” replies Riley.

 

Funyon starts as the fans cheer the long time ring announcer, “The following match is scheduled for one falls with a thirty minute time limit. It is for the number one contendership to the United States Junior League Title!”

 

Pop for that, as the house lights go down.

 

“Introducing first…”

 

Cue the creepy beginnng to 'Back on Earth' by OZZY~ as David walks out to the ring, focused on the ring as the crowd cheers and the small bit of pyro goes of behind him. Cross enters the ring, absent mindely slapping hands.

 

“…at a weight of 277 pounds, from Oil City, Pennsylvania…”THE FALLEN ANGEL” DAAAAAAAAAVID CROSS!”

 

Cross takes off his leather and cross, and sets them aside, then stares at his opponent across the ring.

 

“And his opponent…”

 

The arena lights turn a dark cooling shade of blue to signal the imminant arrival of Austin Sly. The sound of an accoustic guitar playing a hard driving riff floats out over the arena but it is almost completely drowned out by the fans showing their utter loathe for the man. Austin emerges from behind the curtains with only a slight cocky smirk to show any emmotion on his face.. He makes his way to the edge of the stage to do his prematch stretches before NTD ever appears from the curtains behind him. They both begin to make their way towards the ring as Funyon makes his announcement.

“…accompanied by SWF Legend NTD, weighing 230 pounds, from St. Louis, Missouri…AUSSSSSSTIN SLY~!

 

Austin jumps up onto the ring apron and hooks his arm on the top rope. He looks through the arena, not focusing on anyone or anything in the crowd, just taking it in before he climbs into the ring through the middle rope. He shoots a quick grin at the granite-like Cross and plays to the crowd a bit more.

 

“Neither man has not had the best couple of weeks,” says Comet as the two men circle each other. “Citizen Cross has had two straight losses while Citizen Sly has been uneven as of late.”

“Well, Cross is proving like I said, he’s a loser,” replies Riley. “Sly just needs to get his head back in the game.”

 

The two men lock up, with Cross easily gaining the advantage, pushing Sly into the corner. Kivell breaks it up, and both men do cleanly. Cross tries to go for a quick forearm as the two wrestlers face off, but Sly ducks under and hits Cross with a kick to the gut followed by a spinwheel kick right to David’s jaw. Sly follows it up with a dropkick making The Fallen Angel followed to the ground. Austin hits a legdrop on Cross then rises to his feet, playing to the crowd!

 

“Quickness and agility is winning out over strength early,” says Cyclone as Sly goes to the ring apron.

“No, skill is winning over luck,” replies Riley.

 

Sly springboards off the ropes, but Cross is ready from him as he attempts a springboard elbow and catches Austin! After a moment, Cross then tosses Sly into the mat with a half-suplex/half-throw that sends spiraling into the corner! Sly gets up quickly though, but is taken right to the mat with a Cross drop toe hold! Cross then takes a step, and drops a knee right on Sly’s back to continue the pain! As Sly gets to his knee, The Fallen Angel simply walks over and nails Austin with a quick forearm right to the back! Cross then goes over and locks on move #346.…ARM-BAR!

 

“Just a moment is all it takes to change the momentum of the match as Austin Sly is learning right now,” says Comet as Cross keeps the hold locked in. “One mistake by Sly and Cross is keeping things at his pace.”

“Well, Sly isn’t exactly Wildchild. He knows how to get done on the mat too, Comet,” replies Riley

 

Sly proves Riley right for the moment by shifting his weight a bit, allowing his left arm to stretch out and reach the ropes. Cross breaks cleanly again, as Sly helps himself up to with the ropes. However, as soon as he gets to a vertical base, the former Cruiserweight champion is nailed by several forearms right in a row, followed by a whip to the near ropes and a big lariat! Cross then picks up Sly, locks him in a waistlock and takes him over into a….

 

“…GERMAN SUPLEX WITH A BRIDGE!” yells Cyclone as the fans pop and Kivell counts…

 

 

…ONE…

 

 

…TWO…

 

 

…KIKCOUT!

 

“Citizen Cross gets the first pinfall attempt of the match and seems to be on a bit of a roll,” says Comet as Cross gets to his feet and immediately pounces on a crouching Sly with a LA MAJISTRAL…

 

 

…ONE…

 

 

…TWO…

 

 

…KICKOUT AGAIN!

 

“How did he do that?” asks Riley as the fans cheer again. “He shouldn’t be able to do that!” continues Riley.

“Well Robert, Citizen Cross just did that,” replies Comet. “He has amateur background, you do know that right?”

“Look, I read the little bios we get, Comet.” says Riley caustically.

 

Cross drills Sly with several forearms again as he gets to his feet, then sends the 230 pounder into the ropes, sending him into the mat again with a big boot! David then picks up Sly and sends him directly back to the mat with a big takeover suplex causing more damage to Sly’s back! Cross stalks over to Sly again, but as he picks Austin up, he is nailed with a LOW BLOW! Taking advantage of the moment, Sly gets Cross in a headlock, runs for the corner, and nails Cross with a devastating…

 

“…TORNADO DDT!” yells Comet as the fans explode with heat as Sly plays to the ground before falling to the ground for a pin…

 

 

…ONE…

 

 

…TWO…

 

 

…STRONG KICKOUT!

 

“Citizen Sly used uncouth moves to gain the advantage, but nonetheless, Citizen Cross is now down on the mat,” says Comet as Sly jaws a bit with the ref. “But, I have a feeling Citizen Cross is not out of this quite yet.”

“See, that’s the Sly I like,” replies Riley. “Slimy, cunning, cutting corners. A little like me. Or Tom.”

“Yes, it does seem Citizen Sly is dropping back into the pit of Evil after flirting with the Halls of Justice for a short while,” says Comet as Cross rises to his feet.

 

But, Austin is ready for The Fallen Angel and delivers a quick kick to his gut and takes him down with a double arm DDT! As the fans continue to boo, Sly grabs the large Cross and turns him over slowly into a BOSTON CRAB! Sly keeps his cocky grin on his face while NTD does a little jawing with the booing fans on the outside. Cross slowly makes progress over to the ropes as the fans start to do stamp their feet a bit in support of the Fallen Angel.

 

“While, it doesn’t look like Citizen Sly is going to get Cross to submit here,” says Comet as Cross continues to drag Sly from the middle of the ring.

“I don’t think it’s the point. Right now, Cross is expending energy while Sly really isn’t,” replies Riley. “Sly knows Cross has a deeper reserve tank than he does. So, if he can wear the big man down, it’ll give him a better shot of taking him out.”

“I’m not sure if Citizen Cross can be taken out as you say,” replies Comet. “Can he beaten? Sure. But taken out. So far, there seems to be no quit in this young warrior.”

“Everybody taps out,” replies Riley. “Hell, as much as it hurts to say, even Flesher did.”

 

As the two former SWF stars at the desk have talked, Cross has gotten near the ropes and as the fans pop…grabs them! Sly breaks cleanly in a bit of a surprise, but goes right back to his villainous actions by attacking Cross with knees as David struggles to get up! Cross falls to the mat again, and Sly drags him out, and locks on an ABDOMINAL STRETCH as the fans boo again!

 

“Told you Cyclone,” replies Riley as Sly locks the hold in. “Again, Austin knows Cross isn’t going to submit to this. But, it wears him down. Tires him out. Keeps him expending energy, while Sly just has to keep the hold on.”

“True, Robert.” replies Comet. “But, I don’t think Citizen Cross is one to just stand there and take this beating. I believe he has a plan.”

“You also believe in things like truth and justice,” replies Riley with a smirk.

 

Back inside the ring, Sly keeps the hold on then nods to NTD. The SWF legend gets up to the ring apron, getting the referee’s attention. Kivell goes over, and that allows Sly to grab the top rope! As the fans boo this classic heel action, Sly has a grin on his face while NTD tries to keep the ref occupied. After only a few seconds though, the ref turns away from NTD. Quickly, Sly drops his hands and acts innocent. But, Kivell notices the ropes shaking and questions Sly. The former Cruiser champ simply shrugs and locks in the hold again as the fans boo! Cross struggles to move a few steps closer to the ropes, but shows no sign of giving up, a gritty look of determination on his face. All of the sudden, NTD jumps on the apron again, ranting about a fan! So, Sly grabs the rope for leverage again!

 

“This is a despicable action by Citizen Sly,” says Comet as NTD continues his rant. “He is blatantly circumventing the rules and attempting to keep justice at bay!”

“The problem with that is?” asks Riley.

“You know darn well what the problem with that is Robert,” replies Comet as the fans continue to boo the cheating by Austin and NTD continuing his genuflections.

“Really, I don’t,” says Riley with a hint of a grin on his face. “All I see is NTD talking to the referee about a situation and Sly holding on to Cross with a abdominal stretch.”

“You are impossible, Robert.” says Comet with a sigh.

 

Kivell finally gets tired with NTD and turns around with no warning and sees Sly with his hands on the rope! Going into classic NWA mode, Kivell kicks the ropes causing Sly to get misaligned and Cross is able to hiptoss Sly right out of the hold! Austin is quick to his feet, but he’s peppered with several right hands in quick succession from The Fallen Angel. Cross then sends Sly into the ropes, with Austin ducking the lariat attempt by David, but running right into a SPINEBUSTER! As the fans pop, Cross picks up Sly and puts him in a front chancery and lifts him up into a suplex position, but Austin slides down David’s back, and brings Cross to the mat with a…

 

“…NECKBREAKER BY SLY!” yells Comet as the fans pop for the show of athleticism by Sly as he quickly rises to his feet and plays to the crowd.

“Cross got cocky and he paid,” replies Riley. “Sly is a ring general. He knows more than Cross can ever expect to learn, the big galoot that he is.”

“Galoot?” asks Comet. “Robert, and you say I don’t talk like a normal person.”

“You don’t.”

“Galoot?”

“Drop it.”

“Fine,” replies Comet. “I do doubt that Citizen Cross or Sly or any slouches intellectually, after all, they decided to come to the SWF!”

“This shill brought to you by the book -”

“ROBERT!”

 

Sly then drops a quick knee right into the sternum of Cross, who is hurting now. Sly, seeing that it may be time to really start the damage on Cross then drops a knee right on to The Fallen Angel’s face! Continuing the fun, Sly goes to the ring apron and nails David with a somersault kneedrop to the gut! Seeing that it may be time to go for the win, Sly does a little playing to the crowd, then runs, and springs off the middle rope with a…

 

“SKKKKKKKKY SURFER BY CITIZEN SLY!” yells Comet, but the moment is short-lived as Cross raises his knees in preperation of the Lionsault and Sly only hits knees as the fans pop!

 

“CROSS! CROSS! CROSS!”

 

The fans continue to chant as Cross and Sly both lay in the ring, both men trying to get to their feet…

 

…1...

 

…2...

 

…3...

 

…4...

 

…5...

 

Cross gets to his feet first, holding himself up by the ropes while Sly is still on his knees. The Fallen Angel steadies himself, then finally gets up as Sly gets to his feet and nails him with a quick kick to the gut, With Sly slouched, Cross follows it up with a high knee, then sends Sly back to the mat with a crash thanks to a big CRESCENT KICK! Not even bothering for a pin, Cross crouches in the corner as Sly gets up to his feet, only to get nailed as The Fallen Angel explodes out of the corner with a….

 

“…YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZUKA~” screams Cyclone as David’s boot meets flesh and Sly collapses to the ground in a heap.

“That is why you don’t take overly high risk moves,” says Riley as the fans pop like mad. “You end up like Austin here. He could’ve easily slowly bled out The Fallen Angel’s energy for a little longer, but he had to go for the win. Idiot.”

“I thought you were fond of Citizen Sly, Robert.”

“What are you talking about? Tom is my only lo - er, I mean the punk called out Flesher. He deserves to be beaten!” says Riley. “I just wish it was by someone better than Cross.”

“Admit it, you’re just mad because he hasn’t beaten Citizen Cross yet.”

“No. He’s a punk who should’ve never interrupted Tom. I was just being nice before.”

 

Again, Cross doesn’t bother going for a pin. Instead, he picks up Sly and nails him with a big haymaker…

 

 

*THWACK*

 

…then another…

 

*THWACK

 

…then another…

 

*THWACK*

 

…before grabbing Sly by the throat and takes him up, then sends him crashing to the mat with a vicious CHOKE SLAM! Cross, granite-like as ever simply looks at Austin for a moment, before going for the pin…

 

 

…ONE…

 

 

…TWO…

 

 

…THR - KICKOUT!

 

“Citizen Sly may be beaten and bruised a bit, but he’s still staying in this thing,” says Comet as Cross rolls off Sly.

“Again, the guy may be a punk that Flesher is going to soon destroy, but he does have skill. More than ‘Taker-lite over in the corner.”

“What did Legal tell you about using trademarked names of the other side?”

“Hey, hey, I said ‘Taker. I could’ve meant any number of things. Just because you scared that you’ll have to take your mask off in a deposition, don’t make me act like the head offices bitch.”

“Ah, yes Robert. You’re already Flesher’s.”

“Damn rig - HEY!”

 

As Riley catches up with the conversation, Cross pulls up Sly by the hair and….POKE! Cross is stunned by the old school eye poke, allowing Sly to drop toe hold the big man from Oil City, then it’s time to rip apart a knee. Sly immediately goes to work on David’s right knee that’s braced, dropping a leg on it, then slapping on a quick quasi-leglock meant only to hurt the knee more! Cross struggles, but in just a few moments is able to get to the ropes! However, Sly was ready for that and as the Fallen Angel gets up, Sly nails Cross in the same knee with a dropkick. The past few moments, and the submission holds earlier finally fully take hold and Cross has a hard time staying up. Sly helps him out by coming from behind and dropping him to the mat with a BULLDOG! After a little cocky grin and yelling to the crowd, Sly drags Cross to the middle of the ring, steps over and falls back, locking Cross into the…

 

“…FIGURE FOUR BY SLY~!” yells Comet as the crowd really gets heated as Sly jaws at Cross.

“See, I knew the punk had it in him,” says Riley jubilantly. “Sure, Flesher is going to take him out soon enough, but right now, the guy is showing some flash.”

“By taking advantage of Citizen Crosses old knee injury and possibly winning the match?”

“No, you masked moron. By having a strategy. Oh sure, he got sidetracked a but, but he isn’t a Zen Wrestling Master like Tom. He had a plan and he’s executing it beautifully!”

“Well, I would say Citizen Sly is taking full advantage right know to try to get the win, Robert.” replies Comet. “However, I would not doubt the resiliency of the Fallen Angel.”

“I’m sure Austin isn’t either. That’s why he’s in the dead center of the ring, so the big good has nowhere to go.”

 

Yes, Cross is still stuck in the middle of the ring. Gritting his teeth, attempting to turn Sly over, but to no avail. Austin simply falls back again, cranking on David’s knee more and more as he struggles to get out of the middle of the ring. He gets a few feet closer, only for Sly to rail back and drag him back with his leverage. But, he’s making small, incremental steps. Sly isn’t in dead center anymore, but Cross is still far from the ropes.

 

“Can Citizen Cross hold on like this?” asks Comet as the crowd stomps their feet and cheers their head off for the Fallen Angel. “The pain Cross must be going through while this figure four is locked on by Citizen Sly.”

“He really has to reverse it, or pack it in,” replies Riley. “Sly is not letting him get to the ropes. He’s using the slight leverage advantage he has thanks to having the hold locked in to it’s fullest.”

“That is true, but Sly is doing this all cleanly,” says Comet. “Maybe he does have some hope.”

“Well, everyone makes mistakes,” says Riley.

 

Cross slowly tries to drag himself toward a corner as Kivell asks him if he wants to quit. He shakes his head no, even as Sly does a little “WHOO!” and pulls Cross back toward the middle. On the outside, NTD tries to shut up the fans, but they begin to chant.

 

“LET”S GO DAVID, LETS GO!”

 

“LET”S GO DAVID, LETS GO!”

 

“LET”S GO DAVID, LETS GO!”

Cross drags himself to the ropes again, but Sly simply rears back and pulls Cross to the middle again, but this time he makes a mistake. He rolls a little to do it, only Cross follows the roll and it gets enough momentum to pull them both over! But Sly quickly rolls back over to a regular position, but Cross is now at an even keel and flip Sly over and…

 

“…CITIZEN CROSS HAS THE ROPES!” screams Cyclone as the fans pop like mad.

“Bah, he cheated! He had to!” cries Riley as the ref undoes the figure four. “There’s no way he should’ve done that.”

“Obviously, you didn’t watch NWA much in the 80’s,” quips Comet.

“What?”

“Nothing, Robert. Absolutely nothing.”

 

Even though Cross broke the hold, he is still slow to get up and Sly…isn’t. He is the first to get up and rushes Cross as he gets to a base in the corner and absolutely drills The Fallen Angel with a SHINING WIZARD! Then, as Cross is stunned, Sly comes from behind and drops David to the mat with a REVERSE DDT! Austin then goes for the pin…

 

 

…ONE…

 

 

…TWO…

 

 

…THRE - SHOULDER UP!

 

The crowd pops large as Cross gets his shoulder up, and Sly is not happy. He immediately jaws at the ref and goes to attack Cross again as he gets up…attacking him again with another SHINING WIZARD! Then, Sly takes the big man to the mat with a nasty, nasty SHINBREAKER bringing the crowd to their feet booing! With a cocky smirk, Sly grabs Cross to his feet and slaps on a side headlock. Austin then runs to the corner and…

 

“…TORNADO DDT BY SLY!” yells Comet as Cross is dropped to the mat face-first as Sly struts. “Citizen Sly is looking to finish off Cross right now!”

“About time,” replies Riley. “Flesher would’ve made this goof tap out hours ago.”

“Um, Robert.”

“Yeah?”

“The match has not been going on for close to an hour,” says Comet. “So, unless Flesher has a time machine…”

“Who says he doesn’t?”

“Robert, you’re taking the hero worship way too far.”

“Says a man wearing a mask on his head.”

 

Comet just sighs as Sly picks up Cross and delivers a sharp kick to the gut, then brings The Fallen Angel down to the mat with a DOUBLE ARM DDT! Not even bothering with a pin, the cocky Sly then goes to apron and absolutely nails a off-kilter Cross with a springboard dropkick knocking The Fallen Angel down to the mat! Doing another strut, Sly kicks Cross again and jaws at the crowd as they erupt in heat. Then, Sly gets on the second rope yelling more at a few fans in the front row before backing up blind, running, and leaping off the second rope….

 

 

 

 

….STRAIGHT INTO THE FALLEN ANGEL’S ARMS!”

“CROSS CAUGHT SLY! CROSS CAUGHT SLY!” screams Comet as the crowd comes alive. With the same granite face Cross spins around and drives Sly down to the mat with a POWERSLAM AS THE RING SHAKES FROM THE IMPACT as both men stay down!

 

“Citizen Cross just gave his all to stop Austin!” yells Comet as the fans absolutely pop like mad while both men stay down in the ring as the referee begins his count.

“But he had him,” says Riley, almost mumbling. “That move had to be against some rule, right?”

“Both men are still down,” continues Comet, ignoring his partner. “The referee is at the count of five and Citizen Cross may have just gave his last burst of energy to take out Sly!”

“Come on, Sly!” yells Riley. “You’re a punk, but better than Cross here.”

 

…6...

 

…7...

 

The crowd buzzes as Cross reaches for the ropes…

 

…8...

 

…and grabs them…

 

…9...

 

…rising to his feet as the ref waives off the count! As the fans cheer like mad, The Fallen Angel grabs Austin Sly, and compresses his neck and several other parts with an EXPLODER SUPLEX! Not even pausing for a moment, Cross stalks over and picks up Sly and shoves him into the corner, and drills him with several forearms in a row! Cross then grabs Sly as he stumbles out, and picks him up and…

 

 

“…BRAAAAAAAAAINBUSTER BY THE FALLEN ANGEL!” yells Cross as the fans rise to their feet, chanting…

 

“CROSS! CROSS! CROSS!”

 

“Can’t these fans be quiet,” replies Riley. “I mean, Austin’s brains are scrambled enough now.”

“I somehow doubt they will Robert.”

 

Then, with could it be, a small half-smile/half-grimace, Cross uses his energy to pick up Sly again, but this time Austin is slippery enough to get out of the hold and slide down David’s back. With a moment to spare, Sly takes a step back and rushes Cross as he turns around leaping into the air, but The Fallen Angel is ready, blocking the attempt at a knee strike, grabbing Sly’s other leg and driving him to the mat with a VICIOUS SPINEBUSTER! Cross rolls out and sits up, taking a split second to rest, then stands up doing a throat slitting gesture to a massive pop from the SWF crowd in the Alamodome. Cross picks Sly up, kicks him in the gut and puts him in position, pulling him up…

 

“I do believe Citizen Sly is about to become an unwilling part of a…”

 

…and then slamming him back down the mat with a vicious…

 

“…BLACK MASS~!”

 

Cross hooks the leg, and Kivell counts…

 

 

…ONE…

 

 

…TWO…

 

 

…THREE!

 

 

DING! DING DING!

 

Funyon breaks in, “The winner of the match via pinfall and NEEEEEEEEEW number one contender, “THE FALLEN ANGEL” DAAAAAAAAAAVID CROSS!”

 

As the fans cheer, “Back on Earth” starts up as Cross salutes to his crowd as he gets to the second rope. Meanwhile, Sly gets to his feet and shakes off the effects of the move. He waits for Cross to turn around…and extends his hand. After a second of hesitation, Cross shakes it as the fans pop.

 

“Perhaps Citizen Sly is trying to turn over a new leaf.,” muses Comet.

“Then, Flesher will have to destroy him. Losers, all of you!”

“Folks, we’ll be right back after these messages.”

[Thoth 0]

Fade in.

 

The picture opens up to the San Antonio night scape and pans slowly through downtown before showing the Alamo Dome.  Its big electronic sign flashes between "SOLD OUT!" "SWF STORM!" and "LIVE!"  The crowd inside the arena cheers at the sight on the Smarktron, and the view switches indoors.  The hot Texan crowd is on their collective feet, still cheering for Cross vs. Sly, which just ended.  As Funyon climbs back into the ring, the camera moves over the crowd, stopping on signs that stand out:  "Do 'THAT' to me, TOM!"  "DACE F'N NIGHT!" and "MARRY ME MADDIX!"  The fans cheer again for the upcoming match, but first, the shot focuses on the announce team, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley.

 

"And welcome back to SWF Storm!" greets Comet!  "I'm Cyclone Comet, and beside me is Bobby Riley.  We're all set for another match, so let's take it right to Funyon in the ring!"

 

The camera switches shots to the ramp as Funyon voices over.  "Laaaaaadies and gentlemen!  The following contest is scheduled for one fall!  Introducing first!"

 

"Painkiller" by Death kicks up on the speakers as a gush of cheering overcomes the crowd!  The lights in the arena flash between red and white, and a blast of white pyro goes off at the scream in "Painkiller."  Through the smoke, Dace Night steps out.

 

Funyon continues his announcement, "From Birmingham, England!  Weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds.. he is Horrorcore!  Daaaaaaaace Niiiiiiiight!"

 

RAAAAAAAAHH!

 

The crowd cheers mightily for Night.  He responds by throwing his arms up, index and pinky finger raised, arousing another cheer!  He smirks to himself and heads down the ramp.  Dace nods to a couple fans and then ascends the stairs and enters the ring.  Night turns a circle in the middle of the ring, and then steps onto the second turnbuckle in the far corner.  He tosses the metal horn to the crowd and garners another cheer.

 

"The fans are really behind Citizen Night tonight!" exclaims Comet!

 

"They'll learn who to back after Sean Davis trounces all over Night!"

 

"Citizens Night and Davis have met in the squared circle once before, Robert.  Citizen Night won that match," Cyclone reminds his colleague.

 

Riley argues, "Davis is on a roll!  He's a sure win tonight."

 

"Painkiller" fades from the speakers and already the fans begin to boo.  The arena lights darken, but do not go out.  Rumbling thunder echoes through the arena, and then two streaks of lightning-like pyro flash from ceiling to stage, exploding at the top of the ramp!  A blaze of fire borders the stage as a loud thunderclap sounds and "F.E." by 40 Below Summer kicks up!

 

BOOOOOOOOO!

 

"And his opponent!  From Jacksonville, Florida!  Weighing in at two hundred and seventy pounds.. representing Revolution Zero!  The Perfect Storm!  Seeeeaaaan Daaaaaaviss!"

 

From behind the curtain steps Sean Davis, flanked by Marcus Washington, P.A.  Sean's chest muscles twitch as he stares down at Dace Night.  He walks down the ramp, followed by Marcus.  Neither man seems moved by the massive amount of jeering from the crowd.  Davis climbs the stairs and enters the ring over the top rope.  Marcus walks around the outside of the ring, Davis's Hardcore belt in hand.  He places it around corner post opposite the stairs, and then claps his hands in encouragement.  Dace stands at the opposite side of the ring, at the ready.  Sean stalks across the ring, and Night steps up to meet him halfway with a huge right punch!

 

DING!  DING!  DING!

 

"And this match is already underway!  Citizens Night and Davis are exchanging blows in the middle of the ring!" comments Cyclone.

 

As Dace and Sean land each of their blows, only each others' head rocks to the side as they both sway back and forth with their attacks.  Dace slips into a faster rhythm, taking advantage of the punch war and knocking Davis back on his heels.  Sean stumbles back as Dace continues to wail on him, finally falling back into the ropes.  Night takes a step back and winds up a huge lariat, clotheslining Davis right over the ropes!  Sean tumbles to the floor, but rolls with the fall, getting to his feet. 

 

"Dace taking advantage and sending Sean over the top rope.. Davis is looking to get some revenge here tonight," mentions Riley.

 

"He doesn't look to be succeeding right now, Bobbo."

 

"It's still early, Spandex Boy."

 

Night has stepped out of the ring, standing on the apron.  As Sean straightens, Dace hops off the apron and brings down a heavy double arm smash over Davis's upper back!  Sean falls back to his knees and Dace grabs up Davis by the jaw, pulling him back to his feet.  In the ring, the referee shouts at both competitors to get back into legal play.  As Sean stands, he rifles a forearm up between Dace's legs!  Night's face crinkles in pain and now he drops to his knees.

 

ONE!

 

Davis grabs hold of Night by his black hair and hammers him in the head with a big right hook!

 

TWO!

 

Night shakes the blow off and is helped to his feet by Davis.  Sean holds onto Dace by the wrist and Irish whips him along the ring apron, right toward the steel stairs!

 

THREE!

 

RAAAAAAAAAHH!

 

* CLANK! *

 

"Citizen Night reverses the Irish whip from Citizen Davis, sending the Perfect Storm right into the steel stairs!"

 

FOUR!

 

"Marcus Washington is making a scene with Dace Night!" shouts Riley!

 

Washington jogs around his client, standing between Night and Sean.  "Hold on one moment here, son!" he instructs.

 

Night pauses in his step, staring hard at Washington.  "You can move out of my way," begins Dace.  "Or you can become one of my latest pieces of art."

 

Marcus's eyes go wide and he visibly gulps as he stands his ground!

 

FIVE!

 

Dace just smiles and steps forward.  Behind Marcus, Sean stirs, getting to all fours and shaking the dancing lights from his head.  Suddenly, Washington's knees quiver and he bolts past Night!

 

Cyclone Comet can be heard laughing and Riley sputters, "Wh- what was that?!"

 

SIX!

 

Once behind Dace, Marcus spins around and picks up the SWF Hardcore Gamer's Championship belt.  He raises it high above his head and then slams it across Night's back!  Dace rocks forward only slightly, then turns around, and gets slammed again, this time over the forehead!

 

"That was a vile plan by Citizen Washington, that's what that was!" laments Comet!

 

SEVEN!

 

Davis stands as Night falls back from the blow, landing against the apron.  Sean shouts at Marcus to get back, and the lawyer complies.  Davis advances on Dace and slaps his big hand around Night's neck!

 

EIGHT!

 

Sean picks up Night and then quickly throws him back to the ground, chokeslamming him to hell and back!

 

"What a vicious chokeslam right onto that concrete!  Citizen Night has to be hurting!  Where's the justice in this?!" exclaims Comet!

 

NINE!

 

Davis looks up at the referee, and then rolls easily into the ring.  Marcus joins him in the squared circle, then grabs Sean's wrist and raises it in victory.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

TEN!

 

The referee calls for the bell as the fans shower their boos, and some garbage, into the ring.

 

DING!  DING!  DING!!

 

"F.E." kicks up on the speakers as Sean Davis smirks out into the crowd.

 

Funyon announces from the timekeeper's table, "And your winner by count out.. SEEEEEAAANN DAAAAAVISS!!"

 

Davis and Washington step out of the ring and stroll up the ramp.  Sean turns around after collecting his Hardcore belt back from Marcus.  He places the title across his shoulder and smiles back at Dace Night, who is getting to his feet.  Night's forehead bleeds from the title belt shot, and his eyes narrow in anger as he looks up the ramp.  The camera focuses on Night and zooms in on his emotion.

 

Fade out.

[Thoth 0]

"Ladies and gentlemen, Bobby Riley here alongside Cyclone Comet," says the incomparable play-by-play wizard himself, Bobby Riley, "and coming up next we have the biggest grudge match that the SWF has seen in a long, long time!"

 

"That's right, sports fans!" Cyclone Comet says, chipper as always. "Tonight, we've been promised an end to the saga of the Tag Team Championships, as Mike Van Siclen is putting his half of the Tag straps on the line against the Masked Man!"

 

"This match has been brewing since 13th Hour," Bobby says. "At 13th Hour, Mike Van Siclen and Todd Cortez -- the teaming known as Hollywood Boulevard -- defeated John Duran and Crow in a Casino Floor Brawl, retaining the SWF Tag Team championships.

 

"And after another successful defence against the Wayward Sons," Comet says, "Mike Van Siclen took his vacation. Todd Cortez figured that he would have four weeks with no title defences, but he was sorely mistaken, as Alex Zenon booked him in a title defence!"

 

"However, being the man of fairness he is," Riley says, "Zenon allowed Cortez to select a replacement tag partner. Cortez selected the Masked Man, and on the July 17th edition of Storm, the new teaming known as 42nd Street defeated Revolution Zero to retain the tag championships!"

 

"42nd Street was riding high, indeed," Comet says, "but all good things must come to an end, and come to an end they did at Ground Zero, when Mike Van Siclen returned! He demanded to be put into the SWF Tag Team championship match for later that night against Andrea Montgomery and the Birdman, but Alex Zenon came out and laid down the law, saying that 42nd Street would be defending in that match!"

 

"42nd Street emerged victorious over Montgomery and the Birdman," Riley says, "and on Lockdown, Hollywood Boulevard came out holding the SWF Tag Team championships. You would think that all would be settled, but the Masked Man and Todd Cortez's friendship has remained strong..."

 

"... which does not sit well at all with the vain and jealous Citizen Van Siclen!" Comet says. "In an attempt to show the world who the better man is, Mike Van Siclen stormed into Alex Zenon's office earlier today and DEMANDED a match against the Masked Man, and tonight he'll get it!"

 

"That's right, folks," Riley says. "We're moments away from the true beginning of the end, so let's send it over to Funyon for the introductions!"

 

The crowd begins roaring as all the lights in the arena go off, leaving Funyon alone in the center of the ring, a single spotlight shining down on him. He clears his throat, raising the microphone to his lips and looking down at his notecards, beginning to speak.

 

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! There will be no disqualifications, falls WILL count anywhere, and this match is for one-half of the S - W - F WOOOOOOOOOOORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

 

The crowd roars, the atmosphere in the arena already electric as Funyon takes a breath, clearing his throat before speaking again.

 

"Introducing first, by special request... the CHAMPION..."

 

"I'm head of the class!"

 

"I'm popular!"

 

Golden pyros begin fountaining up from the ramp, and the crowd's cheers quickly turn to boos as "Popular" by Nada Surf begins blasting over the speakers! The boos are already harsh, and the man who they're intended for hasn't even stepped onto the ramp yet... but then there he is, as a single spotlight illuminates Mike Van Siclen stepping through the curtain, tonight wearing black tights with a gold 'MVS' stenciled on the side, the SWF Tag Team championship over his right shoulder! The crowd's booing intensifies, and leads to a chant...

 

"YOU GOT JOBBED!"

"TO A GIRL!"

 

"YOU GOT JOBBED!"

"TO A GIRL!"

 

Van Siclen's face twitches, obviously not wanting anything to distract him as he walks down the ramp, climbing the steps and entering the ring as Funyon makes his announcement, having to yell into the microphone to be heard over the red-hot crowd!

 

"Weighing in at two-hundred and forty-one pounds, he hails from Harrison, Illinois, he is currently one-half of your S - W - F TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, he is MIIIIIIIIIKE VAN SIIIIC - LEN!"

 

"YOU SUCK!"

 

The crowd is roaring insults at Van Siclen, and he tries to ignore them, concentrating solely on the man that is coming out next. Referee Jefferson Harding comes over to him, and Van Siclen nearly throws the Tag belt at him. Harding takes it, scurrying away as Funyon clears his throat again.

 

"And now, the challenger!"

 

"FIRE IN THE DISCO!"

 

The second line to the chorus of "Danger! (High Voltage)" by the Electric Six can't even be HEARD as the crowd explodes in cheers, going absolutely nuts as the lights in the arena come up and begin strobing, and the Masked Man comes out, holding his briefcase lovingly with his right hand! He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a large, oversized water gun, pumping it madly and firing machine-gun like shots at the crowd, who respond by roaring even louder! Masked Man tosses it into the crowd, throwing off his jacket and walking briskly towards the ring, Funyon struggling to make his anouncement heard over the rabid crowd!

 

"Weighing in at two-HUNDRED and forty-three pounds, he .... Orofino, Idaho, one-half of.... the MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASKED MAAAAAAAAN!"

 

"T! M! M! T! M! M! T! M! M!"

 

The crowd is scorching-hot for the Masked Man, and God knows he's grinning under the mask as he sets his briefcase down next to the ring steps. He looks into the ring, at the almost-too-focused Van Siclen, who has a look on his face that plainly states he'd like to kill the Sexual Maskosaurus. Masky looks at Mike, then back down to his briefcase... and slides into the ring! Van Siclen is right there to pounce, diving onto Masked Man with a huge forearm to the back, and the two men get up trading blows as Harding calls for the bell!

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

Van Siclen and the Masked Man lock up, not even waiting for the bell to start but just wanting a piece of each other (not like that, sicko!) The Masked Man uses his more power-packed frame to his advantage, forcing Van Siclen back into the corner, but as they get close Van Siclen hops up, landing on the second rope! Using this to his advantage, he quickly lashes out with a kick into TMM's ribcage, causing the Maskosaurus to break out of the lock-up and stumble back a few steps!

 

Van Siclen remains on the middle rope, and leaps off of it, extending his body wide and looking for a crossbody, but the quick-thinking Mask falls to the mat, causing Van Siclen to go flying over him and land hard stomach-first on the mat! Van Siclen gets to his feet quickly, holding his own ribcage in pain, and stares at the Masked Man for a second before charging at him once more! The two men lock up, and this time Van Siclen bends his knees, getting lower to the ground and using this newfound leverage to power Mask back into the turnbuckle!

 

Van Siclen breaks, and levels a knee to Mask's midsection, causing him to grab his ribs in pain once again. Van Siclen backs up, revving his engine before charging forward and looking for an avalanche, but the Masked Man throws his shoulder in the way, and Van Siclen catches it right in the sternum! Mike stumbles back, grabbing his midsection in pain, and the Masked Man charges out of the corner, looking to level Mike with a lariat -- only to get caught by a drop toe hold from Van Siclen, sending the Mask right back to the mat!

 

"These two men are very evenly matched," Riley says, "with neither one of them gaining a clear advantage in the early going!"

 

"There may be no early advantage," Comet says, "but these two citizens are tearing into each other!"

 

Van Siclen gets to his feet, his breathing heavier than usual. He wipes the mass of blonde hair out of his eyes, staring at the Masked Man as he gets to his feet as well. Mask turns around, and the two men glare at each other for a few moments before Van Siclen moves again, seemingly looking to lock up. Mask bites, offering his hands up, but Van Siclen slides underneath them and goes behind the Mask, grabbing him in a rear waistlock! Mask throws an elbow, but Van Siclen shrugs it off, lifting Mask up up and OVER with a Romanian suplex!

 

"Van Siclen using Citizen Mask's own move against him!" Comet cries. "That's near-blasphemy!"

 

Van Siclen lets go of the waistlock, getting to his feet and staring down harshly at the Masked Man. Van Siclen spits on the Masked Man's fallen body, eliciting some LOUD boos from the capacity crowd in the Alamodome, and levels a stiff boot to TMM's midsection. TMM grabs his ribs in pain, rolling away from Van Siclen, and the Spectacle nods approvingly before turning around and sliding out of the ring.

 

On the outside, Van Siclen walks over to the timekeeper's booth, shoving Funyon out of his chair and folding it up. He goes over towards the ring, looking to re-enter under the bottom rope...

 

*CRACK!*

 

... only to get caught in the face by a nasty baseball slide dropkick from the Masked Man, sending Van Siclen toppling to the floor below! The crowd erupts, breaking out in another "T! M! M!" chant as the Masked Man gets to his feet inside the ring, his breathing already heavier than normal. Funyon scurries out from the booth, grabbing his chair... but he gets caught in the crossfire as the Masked Man launches himself over the top rope with a plancha, catching both Van Siclen and Funyon, in addition to the chair!

 

"Funyon just got whacked!" Riley calls. "He hasn't been in the ring in four years, I can only HOPE he's okay!"

 

The Masked Man, seeing his error upon getting to his feet, grabs Funyon, lifting him up and trying to make sure that he's all right. Funyon is a bit woozy, but he nods that he's all right, and the Masked Man claps him on the shoulder. Funyon goes back to the timekeeper's both, chairless, while the Masked Man turns around, looking for Van Siclen...

 

*CRACK!*

 

... only to get clobbered in the face by the chair, courtesy of the Spectacle! The crowd boos heavily as Van Siclen drops the dented chair, getting on top of Mask and looking for the quick pin...

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"TH -- NO!" Mask gets the shoulder up, and the crowd cheers appreciatively. Van Siclen gets back to his feet, grabbing the Masked Man and lifting him up as well.

 

"Citizen Mask shows genuine compassion, helping out our fallen announcer," Comet says, "and Van Siclen uses this to recover and hit the Masked Man with a chairshot! That's just despicable, Bobbo!"

 

"Despicable, maybe, but it did almost get a three count!"

 

Van Siclen grabs Mask by the arm, whipping him into the barrier and following close behind him! The Masked Man's body goes flying into the guardrail, and as the natural reaction of Mask bouncing off tries to take place it is cut off at the knees by Van Siclen, who pancakes Mask into the railing once more! The grinning Van Siclen backs off, allowing Mask's limp body to fall to the padding on the outside.

 

"Van Siclen with a nasty avalanche on the outside!"

 

Mike grabs the limp form of the Masked Man, lifting the Maskosaurus to his feet. Van Siclen knees Mask in the stomach, doubling him over and quickly pulling the Sexual Maskosaurus towards him, putting the Masked Man into a standing headscissors! The crowd erupts in boos, knowing that the Riot Act is on tap – but as Van Siclen lifts Mask up by the waist, the Maskosaurus shows tremendous upper body strength, pulling himself up so that he is sitting on Van Siclen's shoulders! Mike stumbles around a bit, and Mask helps his wooziness by driving some swift forearm blows into the Spectacle's forehead! With no other option, Mike is forced to drop Mask forward, turning away from the Masked Man and trying to regain his bearings.

 

Mask is fully in control of himself, however, and as Mike turns back to try and take advantage of the Masked Man, he finds the Maskosaurus right there waiting for him! The Mask grabs Van Siclen by the back of the head, pulling Mike close before placing his head underneath Van Siclen's jaw. The crowd erupts as the Masked Man leaps up and sits out, driving Van Siclen's jaw into the top of his head with Van Siclen's own sitout jawbreaker!

 

"The Masked Man is repaying Van Siclen for using the Romanian Suplex earlier in this match," Comet exclaims.

 

"Bah," Riley said. "Only beautiful people are allowed to steal moves -- the Masked Man probably looks like the Phantom of the Ugly Opera!"

 

"You suck, Bobbo."

 

Van Siclen bounces up into the air, clutching his jaw in pain, and Mask quickly steps forward, grabbing Van Siclen by the legs and hoisting him up into the air, before dropping him neck-first across the guardrail!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

The crowd roars for the maneuver as Van Siclen clutches his neck in pain, stumbling back a few feet and obviously trying to maintain some sense of composure as he is sent reeling on the outside. He turns around, stumbling towards the entrance ramp in an obvious attempt to get away from the Mask -- however, the Masked Man is very obviously on fire, and he stalks after Mike, looking to obliterate the man with a big move. Mask grabs Van Siclen by the shoulder, whirling him around so that the two men face each other. Mask proceeds to grab Van Siclen by the arm and step forward, wrapping Mike's own arm around his neck! The crowd erupts, knowing what is to come as the Masked Man runs forward and leaps into the air, sitting out and wrenching Mike's neck in the process with the Lineage!

 

"LINEAGE FROM THE MASKED MAN!" Comet cries. "Right on the entrance ramp, no less! Citizen Mask's great-grandfather defeated Ho-Min Chou Ahn at the Battle in Manchuria during the first World War, and the Masked Man is going to use it now to get the pin!"

 

"Get the pin my ASS, Comet," Riley growls, but as the Masked Man climbs on top of an unmoving Van Siclen and Jefferson Harding gets down to make the count, it looks like it could be a reality! The crowd counts along, expecting a pin!

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

 

"NO!" Van Siclen gets the shoulder up at the last possible second, deflating the crowd quite a bit as a smug Riley says, "Yeah, that worked."

 

"Citizen Mask is still in control of this contest, Bobbo!"

 

Indeed, as the Masked Man gets to his feet on the outside, he certainly appears to be in control of the contest. He grabs Mike by the hair, lifting the Spectacle to his feet. He grabs Mike by the arm, looking to whip him into the guardrail, but Van Siclen reverses the whip, sending the Masked Man into the guardrail instead!

 

But wait!

 

The Masked Man leaps into the air, balancing himself perfectly on the guardrail! The crowd erupts as Van Siclen turns towards Mask, expecting to see the Maskosaurus in a crumpled heap on the floor, but instead seeing Mask balancing precariously on the guardrail! He turns around slowly, turning to face Mike, who charges towards the guardrail with the intention of knocking Mask off -- but the masked Man leaps off the guardrail, wrapping one arm around Van Siclen's head and whirling around in midair, driving Mike's head into the entrance ramp with a swank Cyclone Complex!

 

"CYCLONE COMPLEX OH MY GOD I LOVE THAT MOVE~!" Comet yells, and Riley just scowls.

 

"You love that move because you perfected it, asshead."

 

Mask gets to his feet, turning Van Siclen over onto his back before going for the pinfall!

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"YES!" Comet screams...

 

... but he's contradicted by referee Harding, who calls out a loud "NO!" as Van Siclen's shoulder comes off the ramp! The crowd boos again, really wanting that last one to be three, but they're cruelly teased by Van Siclen, who is struggling at this point just to catch his breath. Mask gets to his feet, and Van Siclen rolls over into a fetal position, trying to catch just a moment of rest, but he's hauled up by the Masked Man. Mask knees Van Siclen in the stomach, doubling the Spectacle over, and putting Van Siclen into a side headlock!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!"

 

The crowd roars, knowing that the Cautionary Tale is to come as the Masked Man grabs Van Siclen by the top of his tights and lifts him into the air, in suplex position... but Van Siclen shifts all of his weight, forcing the Masked Man to drop him back with a significantly less powerful suplex! Van Siclen breathes slightly easier, knowing that he's scored a slight victory as the Masked Man gets to his feet, grabbing Van Siclen by the hair and lifting him back to his feet.

 

"Van Siclen narrowly avoids the Cautionary Tale of Sexual Maskosaurus," Riley says.

 

"But don't be fooled, citizens!" Comet says. "Van Siclen is still in a bad, bad way!"

 

Indeed he is, as the Sexual Maskosaurus knees Van Siclen in the stomach once more! Van Siclen doubles over, clutching his ribs in pain, and the Masked Man grabs him in a side headlock once more, AGAIN looking for the Cautionary Tale! The crowd erupts once more, but their cheers are quickly turned to boos as Van Siclen wraps his arms around Mask's waist, lifting the Mask up and over with a Northern Lights Suplex! The crowd boos as Van Siclen bridges, looking for a quick three!

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THR -- NO!" Masked Man still has too much left, however, and he gets the kickout. Van Siclen gets to his feet, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he walks around, trying to regain his bearings as the Masked Man recovers on the ramp. Van Siclen breathes for a moment before turning back to the Masked Man, who by now is on his feet. Van Siclen stalks over to the Masked Man and knees him in the stomach, before simply lifting his arms into the air and clubbing them down against the Eastern European’s back with a double axe handle! MVS grabs both the head and the waist of TMM, before aiming his head towards the guardrail and charging forward, slamming his adversary right into it!

 

*CLANG!*

 

Mask stumbles back, but Mike keeps a firm grasp of his head, and he slams it again into the guardrail! Van Siclen turns his rival around, pushing him against the guardrail, before slamming forearm smashes into his forehead. After a flurry of shots, MVS stops, swings his open palm out…

 

*CRACK!*

 

…and slaps the taste out of TMM’s mouth! He fires another forearm – but MASK STOPS IT!

 

“The Sexual Maskosaurus has FIRE IN HIS EYES!” Comet screams, “I think that slap just reawakened his fighting spirit!”

 

“Spirit, schmearit. Van Siclen is firmly in control now, and he’s not letting up any time soon. He’s going to remind Mask exactly why he shouldn’t have temporarily replaced him.”

 

Mike looks back at Mask, wide-eyed, and he sees a HARD right cross come flying at him! Another! Another! The Masked Man could win an Olympic medal for Romania with these hard punches, and he shoves Mike away, before lifting his leg up, kicking his boot into MVS’ face and sending him down HARD back-first against the ramp! The Texas crowd again goes a shade of banana, wildly cheering the Romanian. He grabs Van Siclen by the head and picks him up, and then hoisting him onto his shoulder, pointing the Spectacle’s head towards the nearest corner ring post. He charges forward…but MVS predictably slips out behind the Romanian, who himself puts his arms out, stopping short! Mask turns around and sees Mike swing with a punch, but he again blocks it, and bellows a scream to the Romanian gods…

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHH!!!”

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

 

…before firing one of the hardest damn punches ever seen against Mike’s jaw! The Spectacle immediately falls to the mat, clutching his jaw in agony!

 

“That was unbelievable!” Comet exclaims, “I haven’t seen a punch that hard since Frost’s Hands of Stone!”

 

“That kind of punch should be illegal in all circumstances,” Riley cries, before channeling the spirit of Merkin Muffley, “You can’t punch in here, this is a wrestling match!”

 

“T! M! M!”

 

“T! M! M!”

 

“T! M! M!”

 

The chants are loud and clear in the Alamo Dome, and Mask quickly acknowledges them before dropping down and pinning Van Siclen.

 

“This could be it!” Comet exclaims, “Van Siclen’s jaw is busted, and he may be knocked out!”

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

…no! Mike barely wriggles a shoulder up, just breaking the count! With blood seeping out of his mouth, MVS rolls onto his stomach, but TMM stays right on him, grabbing him by the hair and lifting him to his feet, before rolling him back in the ring. Masked Fury gives the Spectacle no quarter, lifting him up and taking him by the wrist, before FORCEFULLY whipping him against the turnbuckle!

 

*BANG!*

 

Mike hits back-first so hard, he stumbles out of the corner, just enough for Mask to reach out and wrap one hand around his throat and execute a sleeper, before running towards the turnbuckle. Once he reaches it he kicks his feet up to the second, and then top turnbuckles, spinning around and slamming Mike down with a TORNADO SLEEPER SLAM!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

Both men are down from the amazing impact, but Mask is able to crawl over…and lay an arm down across the chest of the fallen Van Siclen! The entire Alamo Dome counts along as the referee does…

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

“THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

“NO! SHOULDER UP! SHOULDER UP!” Riley cries, “Mike got the shoulder up! Hallelujah!”

 

The three is waved off, and the Texans are none too happy. Frustrated, but still focused, the Masked Sensation leaves the ring, and lifts up the ring apron, reaching under and producing…a Romanian cane! The steel-tipped, phallic device gets a rise (har har) out of the crowd, and Mask reenters the ring with the turgid stick firmly in his hand. Mike is miraculously on his knees, so Mask decides to dive in headfirst (figuratively), swinging the cane down-

 

*FWOOOOOSH-

 

 

*CHING*?

 

Yes, *CHING*, as MVS lifts his forearm up with a SWIFT uppercut to the Masked Man’s testes! Mask doubles over in pain, allowing Van Siclen to take hold of the cane and swing it at the head of TMM!

 

*FWOOSH – THUNK!*

 

The sound of steel meeting skull echoes through the dome, and Mask immediately hits the mat! Mike aims the cane down, and sends down more shots to Mask’s midsection!

 

*FWOOSH – THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!*

 

“What ferocity!” Comet proclaims, “you can see the hatred these two have for each other pouring out!”

 

“You can also see blood pouring out of Mike’s mouth,” Riley adds, “and I think that’s adding a lot. Seeing your own blood, especially that much, kick starts your adrenal gland like nothing else.”

 

TMM writhes in pain on the mat, but Mike is relentless, taking Mask by the head and sticking it out of the ring, his neck against the middle rope. He then places the cane against Mask’s throat, pulling back, thus executing a guillotine of excruciating proportions! The crowd jeers vociferously, and the ref tries to intervene, but Mike has none of it, and since it’s no-disqualification, there’s nothing that can be done. Finally, Mike has the ‘heart’ to release the move, and Mask slumps down against the bottom rope. The Spectacle humiliates his opponent further, kicking him in the ass, literally, sending him through the ropes and down to the floor! Mike follows him out, twirling the cane in his right hand. However, he spots the ring steps, and drops the cane, getting a better idea. He walks over to the ring steps and unhinges them, lifting them high over his head. As the Masked Favorite slowly gets to his feet, Mike backs up, and then takes a few steps forward, TOSSING the steps towards Mask’s head…

 

*BOOOOOM!*

 

…and connecting with vicious accuracy! The stairs hit the ground with a loud crash, and Mask follows shortly after. MVS, satisfied, walks over to Mask and straddles him, before unleashing a flurry of right hands against his head! Mask’s mask looks moist…and sure enough, blood begins seeping out of his mask’s eyeholes! Mike now presses down on top of Mask, covering him in a pin!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

“THREEEENOOOOO!”

 

Mask gets the shoulder up, much to the delight of the crowd!

 

“And now is the time to step it up,” Riley proclaims, “both men are battered, bloody, and beaten, and one false move could spell the end. They’ve got to be focused and smart if they want to win this.”

 

“Bobbo, that was…surprisingly intelligent, not to mention correct.”

 

“Nice contribution, ass.”

 

The Hollywood Boulevard member lifts the 42nd Street member up to his feet, and then rolls him under the bottom rope and back into the ring. Mike takes Mask by the head and runs forward, smashing his cranium into the nearest turnbuckle. He keeps him there, and then goes to the opposite corner, before charging towards TMM, building up speed as he leaps into the air and spins three hundred and sixty degrees with the Answer…but Mask somehow moves out of the way and Mike crashes into the corner! As he staggers backward, the Sexual Maskosaurus reaches up and traps Mike in an inverted facelock, letting out a Romanian battle cry!

 

“He could be going for the reverse Cautionary Tale of Sexual Maskosaurus,” Comet notes, “undoubtedly the most powerful move in his arsenal!”

 

Mask grabs a handful of Mike’s tights and hoists him into the air vertically…but the Spectacle shifts his weight and lands behind Mask, swiftly locking his arms around Mask’s head in a crossface before dropping back and slamming the back of TMM’s neck into his knee with the Crossface Black!

 

“T! M! M!”

 

“T! M! M!”

 

The chants are no help for the Romanian now, however, as Mike covers his adversary with another pin!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

 

 

 

NO, ANOTHER SHOULDER UP!

 

“This is incredible!” Comet cries, “these men are giving it everything they have, just for that tag team title belt!”

 

“Comet, it’s so much more than that now. This is pride, hatred, and, hell, even a modicum of respect flowing freely. Like semen.”

 

“Well, Bobbo, that started out nice…”

 

Van Siclen is still tired, and he struggles to his feet, visibly gasping for air. He spits, trying to get the thick blood out of his mouth, and then turns back to the Masked man, also nearly out of it on the mat. Van Siclen grabs the Masked Superstar, lifting him to his feet.

 

"T! M! M!"

 

"T! M! M!"

 

The crowd continues to roar for the Masked Phenom, but Van Siclen mentally dismisses their cheers, grabbing the Masked Man and driving a hard knee into his stomach! The crowd begins booing as the Masked Man doubles over, and their booing gets louder as Van Siclen locks the Masked Man in a standing headscissors! Van Siclen grabs Mask around the waist, and the crowd's booing intensifies as Van Siclen lifts Mask up into piledriver position! He raises one arm, signaling for the Riot Act...

 

...but then he drops it! The Masked Man connects with an elbow to Van Siclen's shin, and Mike is struggling to stay on his feet. This causes him to loosen his grip on Mask's waist, and this allows the Masked Man enough room to arch his back, whipping Van Siclen over his body with a hurricanrana!

 

"HURRICANRANA FROM MASKED MAN!" Comet yells, "He just countered the Riot Act, and he's got it bridged into a pin!"

 

The crowd EXPLODES, as Jefferson Harding gets down to make the count!

 

"T! M! M!"

 

"ONE!"

 

"T! M! M!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"T! M! M!"

 

"THREE!"

 

The crowd begins cheering WILDLY...

 

 

"NO!"

 

...but again, Van Siclen gets his shoulder up at the last second!

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOH!"

 

"This crowd is on FIRE tonight, Bobbo!" Comet says.

 

Frustrated, the Masked Man gets to his feet, wiping blood from his eye sockets and grabbing Van Siclen by the hair, lifting him to his feet as well! Mask grabs Van Siclen's arm, dancing back a few steps before whipping Van Siclen into the turnbuckles! Van Siclen hits them hard, bouncing out and stumbling forward a bit -- but he gets rammed right back into the buckle by a huge avalanche from Masked Man! The Masked Wonder steps back, and Van Siclen slumps down onto the top rop, trying to get a breather.

 

Mask, however, has other plans completely, and he steps out onto the apron. His eyes glint through his mask as he goes over to the turnbuckle Van Siclen is resting in and climbs it, getting on the top rope and balancing unsteadily. He sits on the top, grabbing Van Siclen by the hair and turning him around so that the two men face each other. Mask pulls Mike up so that he stands on the second rope, and grabs him in a side headlock! Unsteadily, the Masked Man gets to his feet, grabbing Van Siclen by the top of his tights...

 

"He's... he's looking for a Super Cautionary Tale of Sexual Maskosaurus!" Riley yells. "He'll kill Van Siclen if he can hit it!"

 

Mask takes a huge breath, and then lifts Van Siclen high up into suplex position...

 

... but for the THIRD time in the match, Van Siclen shifts his weight! The brief rest he got gave him time to formulate a plan, and he puts it into action here, wrapping both of his arms around Mask's neck and falling forwards! Mask falls with him as Mike lands sitting on the apron, Mask's neck impaled onto his shoulder at a HUGE angle with a suicide neckbreaker! The crowd actually pops for the HUGE impact of the move, as Mask goes sprawling on the apron and Van Siclen's recoil sends him bouncing off the apron, landing hard on the floor below!

 

"S - W - F!"

 

"S - W - F!"

 

"SUICIDE NECKBREAKER FROM VAN SICLEN!" Riley yells. "He narrowly escapes a Super Cautionary Tale, and this crowd is LOVING it!"

 

"Van Siclen -- much as I may disapprove of his style -- just used his head there, and he reversed a certain pinfall on him into what is nearly a certain pinfall FOR him!"

 

Van Siclen struggles to his feet on the outside, while on the apron the Masked Man isn't even TWITCHING, and he seems to be out cold. On the outside, Van Siclen gets to his feet, though he's obviously unstable on them. He shakes the kinks out, though, and goes to the apron, climbing on top of Masked Man and praying for the pinfall!

 

"ONE!"

 

The crowd, once so positively cheering about the match, begins booing again, not wanting to see their fallen hero pinned!

 

 

 

"TWO!"

 

The booing becomes louder, as it looks more certain that Van Siclen will win the match here!

 

 

 

 

"THREEEEEEE!"

 

The crowd's displeasure can be felt instantly, as boos begin to rain on Van Siclen...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"NO!"

 

... but these boos are misplaced, as the Masked Man gets the shoulder up! At Jefferson Harding's yelling the crowd goes crazy, SO thrilled that Van Siclen didn't pick up the win, and Van Siclen himself stares at Harding, spitting blood onto the mat and demanding to know how he didn't pick up the fall. Harding simply shrugs -- he's not a wrestler -- and Van Siclen lets out a huge, exasperated sigh, getting to his feet and picking the Masked Man up with him.

 

"How did that NOT get the fall!" Riley cries. "I know what Van Siclen's saying to himself right now -- what more?"

 

"I don't know, Bobbo!" Comet says. "These two have given their all, but neither is willing to call it quits! We could be here for a long, long time!"

 

Van Siclen grabs the Masked Man -- who by this point is pretty much out on his feet -- and throws him into the ring over the top rope. Mask lands very unsteadily on his feet, and Van Siclen steps in behind him, grabbing the Masked Superstar by the arm and whipping him HARD into the ropes! Mask hits the ropes and comes back, looking like open season as Van Siclen charges forward, arm extended for a lariat...

 

... but Mask ducks underneath it! He hits the ropes on the opposite side, coming back at Van Siclen...

 

... who whirls around and drives the Masked Phenom into the mat with the YEAH I MIGHT'VE MISSED THE FIRST TIME BUT HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD LOGIC SAYS THE SECOND TIME IS THE MOTHERFUCKING CHARM LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

"YE-OWCH!" Comet cries.

 

The Masked Man hits the mat, even more out of it than before, if such a thing is possible, and Van Siclen gets on top, thinking that this will do it!

 

"ONE!"

 

The crowd is subdued -- this, of course, must be the end.

 

 

 

"TWO!"

 

 

 

 

"THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

 

 

 

 

 

"NO!" The Masked Man again gets the shoulder up, and THIS time, Mike Van Siclen believes it even less than the last time! He begins screaming at Harding, spitting blood literally as Harding backs up, a bit afraid of the angry Spectacle. Van Siclen, monstrously frustrated by this point, and grabs the Masked Man, lifting him to his feet!

 

"A Suicide Neckbreaker and a HUGE lariat," Comet says, "and the Masked Man is STILL going! What heart being shown by the Romanian legend!"

 

Van Siclen grabs Masked Man by the head, leading him over to the turnbuckle. Angry, Van Siclen steps onto the second rope, putting the Masked Man into a headscissors. The crowd boos, sure of what's to come as Van Siclen grabs the Masked Wonder by the waist, lifting him up into piledriver position! The crowd begins booing louder as the Masked Man elbows Van Siclen in the shins again, trying once more to get Van Siclen to break the hold!

 

Not this time.

 

Van Siclen leaps off the middle rope, the crowd booing and praying for something to happen as he falls ALL

 

THE

 

WAY

 

DOWN...

 

*BOOM!*

 

...and lands on his knees, spiking the Masked Man's head into the mat with a Super Riot Act! Van Siclen holds onto Mask's waist, letting him slide down a bit so that his shoulders touch the mat, and the crowd begins booing, sure that this one is over as Jefferson Harding makes the count!

 

"ONE!"

 

 

 

 

"TWO!"

 

 

 

 

 

"THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

 

 

 

 

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

"Popular" by Nada Surf kicks up, the crowd booing hard as Funyon grabs a microphone.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, at eighteen minutes, forty-six seconds, and STILL the S - W - F TAG TEAM CHAMPION... MIIIIIIIKE VAN SIIIC-LEN!"

 

"He's done it!" Riley gloats. "After everybody thinking he wasn't fit for the belts, after all the people booing him, after all the beautiful offence the Masked Man got in -- Mike Van Siclen has proven that he's worthy of wearing his half of the Tag Team championships!"

 

"I'll give him credit," Comet says. "He fought valiantly, through pain, and he proved himself a worthy adversary for the Masked Man!"

 

Van Siclen gets to his feet, his breathing heavy. He spits out a mouthful of blood, grabbing his Tag championship from Jefferson Harding and holding it up for the crowd to see! The crowd boos, and Van Siclen, rightfully thinking that it's for him, brushes it off...

 

... until he gets SMASHED in the back of the head by a forearm from Spike Jenkins! The crowd boos HARD as Spike, Sean Davis and Jet storm the ring, laying out Van Siclen! Mike, already half-dead from hsi war with the Masked Man, gets on his hands and crawls backwards, trying to get out of the way -- but it's too late, as Spike Jenkins is on him with boot to the stomach after boot to the stomach! Van Siclen crumples up, not needing to feel any more pain, and Jenkins and Jet lift the Spectacle up, holding him in place for Sean Davis, who levels a powerful fist...

 

*BOOM!*

 

... and drives it into Van Siclen's ribcage, very nearly caving it in! Van Siclen coughs, blood spitting out of his mouth as the Spectacle struggles against Jet and Spike. The two of them let go of Mike, throwing him into Davis -- who lifts him up and drives him into the mat with a huge spinebuster! Van Siclen crumples into a heap on the mat, and Jenkins grabs his Tag Team championship, posing with it for a moment. The three Revolution Zero members do a group pose for the raucously booing crowd, and then the boos turn to cheers! The three members of Revolution Zero keep posing, thinking it's for them...

 

*CRACK!*

 

... until Davis gets whacked in the back of the head with a HARD forearm from the Masked Man! Davis falls to the mat, grabbing the back of his head in pain! Jenkins turns around, dropping Van Siclen's tag belt and rushing Mask -- and the Masked Man grabs him by the head, throwing him over the top rope! Jet bails, going to help her fallen compadre, and Sean Davis gets to his feet mid-ring. Masked Man grabs Van Siclen, helping him to his feet, and the two men stare at Davis. Davis is obviously contemplating the fight -- two weakened men against a bigger, angrier man?

 

Not today.

 

Davis rolls out of the ring, joining the rest of Revolution Zero on the outside. The three of them stare at the two men in the ring. Van Siclen shoves off of the Sexual Maskosaurus, grabbing his tag belt and slinging it over his shoulder. He turns back to Masked Man, and despite the war they've been through, despite the hatred he's felt... this man saved him.

 

Van Siclen extends a hand, and Masked Man looks at it... before shaking it firmly! The two men shake hands in the middle of the ring, and the crowd absolutely ERUPTS, as Van Siclen turns around, staring at the three members of Revolution Zero as we...

 

FADE OUT.

[Thoth 0]

The arena is alight with flashbulbs. Candace is already in the ring, and only a few seconds pass before…

 

 

BOOM!

 

An explosion of blue smoke and pyro lights up the arena, heralding the arrival of the Cruiserweight Champion! As Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” blares through the stadium, Tom Flesher walks through the velvet curtain clad in his usual blue warm-up suit. Allison Onita, wearing a denim skirt and a white t-shirt, follows behind him with the SWF Cruiserweight Title belt wrapped around her waist. The fans boo loudly as Flesher and Onita make their way to the ring, but Flesher ignores them. He focuses only on Candace and Frisco.

 

Flesher climbs the stairs and holds the ropes for Allison Onita, then enters. He sets himself in the center of the ring as the music fades, and looks at the announcer.

 

“Her opponent is someone who is so far above her, Dragon Okimurra has absolutely no hope of winning tonight. Why, one may ask, is this match even occurring? Why is Tom Flesher, SWF Legend, future Hall of Famer, two-time World Champion, current Cruiserweight Champion and workhorse extraordinaire, pretty boy nonpareil, even deigning to step into the ring against a rookie from Japan? Quite simply, he’s horny. So, weighing in at 229.9 pounds, he is the SUPERIOR ONE, TOM FLESHER~!”

 

Flesher stretches out as referee Sexton Hardcastle makes his way into the ring. He motions for the belt. Allison strips it off and hands it to the official. He shows it to Flesher, who simply flicks his wrist to shoo the referee away. Hardcastle shows the belt to Candace “Dragon” Okimurra, who looks at it and nods. Finally, he holds the belt in the air and calls for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

Flesher plants himself in the center of the ring, sneering at his adversary. As Frisco crosses his arms across his chest and smirks, Candace edges out of her corner. Obviously apprehensive about stepping up against an SWF legend and future Hall of Famer, the rookie is defensive and cautious as she moves toward him. Candace leans forward, trying for a collar-and-elbow tieup. Flesher, rather than stepping into the lockup, simply cracks her in the ribs with a stiff kick! Candace doubles over in pain, but Flesher hits her with a backhand that pops her back up to standing. With his opponent stunned, the Superior One whips her to the ropes. Candace rebounds, and Flesher steps forward with his arm extended. He nails her in the jaw with a palm strike, and Candace collapses to the mat! Flesher covers her, and the referee counts

 

ONE!!!!

 

 

Candace, though, gets her shoulder up. Flesher shakes his head disgustedly and grips her hair, then stands up and drags her with him.

 

“Well, Citizen Flesher is being less than gentle with Citizen Okimurra this evening,” says Cyclone Comet. “He seems to be relishing his position in this contest – a seasoned veteran, despite his young age, up against a relatively inexperienced opponent. He so rarely gets to face an opponent he outweighs by such a high magnitude.”

 

Flesher yanks ‘Dragon’s’ hair, pulling her into a European uppercut that sends a loud “CRACK” echoing through the stadium. She staggers backwards, and Flesher shoves her back into the corner. As she leans against the turnbuckles, Flesher throws a hard backhand that snaps her head to the side. Candace, not quite sure what she’s done to warrant this kind of abuse, looks up, only to have Flesher unload with an open-handed bitchslap. Her head snaps to the side, and Flesher backs away to the center of the ring.

 

Riley snickers as Candace looks out to Frisco for some sort of advice. “This poor girl doesn’t have ANY idea what to do. She’s in against a guy who’s beaten practically everyone in the SWF today, and she’s so dumbfounded that she’s asking Frisco to throw her a bone.”

 

Frisco, though, simply smirks and shrugs at his charge, as if to say, “Better you than me.” Like a deer in the headlights, Candace steps out of the corner, toward the center of the ring where the Main Attraction impatiently waits.

 

Candace steps in, but Flesher lowers his level and lunges forward, slamming into her to the mat with a train wreck-style double-leg takedown! Candace scoots back, trying to keep from getting folded into a pinning predicament. Flesher, though, stands up instead, hooking both legs under his arms. Immediately, the 121-pound china doll stiffens, avoiding what she thinks will be an inevitable Boston crab.

 

Rather than twisting Candace to her back, though, Flesher takes a few steps back and rotates in the center of the ring! He leans back and proceeds to spin faster and faster, so hard that Candace’s featherweight frame is lifted off the mat by centrifugal force.

 

“By Zeus, we haven’t seen this in ages!” says Comet. “Tom Flesher is executing an old-fashioned Mormon Spin, in the style of Utah giant Don Leo Jonathan!”

 

“And also in the style of Lioness Asuka, who Candace apparently never sparred with,” says Riley, as he chucks a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Funny that she didn’t see this coming.”

 

Flesher continues rotating, with Allison Onita cheering him on as he continues his giant swing. On the outside, Frisco tries not to show how much he truly enjoys watching his charge being turned into a throwing dummy for the SWF’s most accomplished superstar. The Superior One accelerates, and as the crowd cheers, he prepares to finish the spin. As he reaches to speed, he releases Candace, sending her crashing into the turnbuckles! She lands in a heap, her head careening into the bottom turnbuckle pad, while Flesher simply staggers to the side of the ring. He leans on the ropes, shaking off his self-inflicted dizziness as he chats with Allison Onita.

 

“Well, Tom’s certainly taking Dragon Okimurra to the woodshed,” says Riley. “Maybe after he finishes slaughtering her, he’ll take her out back and teach her a thing or two about Japanese phonetics.”

 

“Are you implying,” asks Comet, “that Miss Okimurra’s name is anything other than the standard spelling?”

 

“Well, that too,” says Riley, “but I was thinking more along the lines of ‘bukkake.’”

 

Flesher continues happily chatting with his girlfriend as Frisco makes his way over to the corner and hounds his protégé to make it to her feet. Sexton Hardcastle, meanwhile, watches to ensure that Okimurra will be able to continue.

 

“Citizen Okimurra certainly was on the wrong end of that giant swing,” says Cyclone Comet. “One wonders if she’ll be able to withstand this sort of assault long enough to make a mark in the match.”

 

“Can I get another soda here?” asks Riley. “Maybe some nachos?”

 

As Candace begins to stand, Flesher holds up a single finger to Allison, saying “Hang on a moment.” The Japanese joshi star pulls herself to her feet using the ropes and gradually steadies herself. She doesn’t, however, see the Superior One barreling at her, and when she turns toward the center, she sees Flesher’s Doc Marten slamming into her face! She collapses under the force of the Yakuza kick, and Flesher regains his footing. As Candace lays on the mat, Flesher struts back over to the sidelines and leans over, returning to Allison.

 

“Flesher obviously isn’t taking Candace seriously,” says Cyclone Comet. “I wonder if perhaps he’s taking her too lightly tonight.”

 

“Yeah, she sure is showing him up,” says Riley sarcastically. “… got any mustard for this pretzel?”

 

Flesher spends a few more minutes talking to Allison before sighing deeply and walking back to the center of the ring. There, he waits as Candace begins to get to her feet. As she does, he hooks her by the arm and yanks her back. With the arm hooked, he bends her to the side, locking on an abdominal stretch! Candace struggles to escape, but Flesher quickly grapevines her leg and clamps down on the hooked arm to bend her spine against itself.

 

“Tom Flesher,” says Bobby Riley, “is putting on a veritable clinic of wrestling techniques tonight, using Cand- ahem, ‘Dragon’ Okimurra as his victim. Frisco seems to be thrilled to see her, too. Odd, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Citizen Francisco has yet to show any true compassion to his charge,” says Comet. “One need only look at the gleam in his eye when he informed Candace of her opposition for this evening. He didn’t encourage her to focus on the Cruiserweight Championship, nor did he make any effort to advocate on her behalf. He seems gleeful in watching her beaten from pillar to post.”

 

Flesher leans back, tightening the abdominal stretch. Candace grimaces, trying to withstand the pain, but the Superior One shuffles ever so slightly to the side. With his free hand, he reaches out and grabs the top rope, prompting a loud round of boos from the crowd. Sexton Hardcastle is, however, able to wallow in his own incompetence, and drops to one knee to ask Candace if she wants to submit. Candace shakes her head no, and Hardcastle stands up. Flesher releases the rope, which shakes in a telltale manner as Hardcastle looks at it. He asks Flesher whether he’d been holding the rope, but he shakes his head and denies it. Hardcastle drops down again to ask Candace if she can continue, but once again she shakes her head… even as Flesher grabs the top rope again to increase the pressure.

 

“Citizen Flesher’s actions are shameful,” decries Comet. “Not only is he in an entirely different league than the joshi rookie, he is going out of his way to bend the rules to gain an even greater advantage. He doesn’t need to engage in this sort of unethical behavior. This, Robert, is why Tom Flesher does not deserve our respect.”

 

“Eh, get off it,” Riley says. “Flesher doesn’t have any responsibility to Candace. She’s a sparring partner, a warm-up for him. Why should he give a damn what she thinks?”

 

Flesher once again releases the top rope just as Hardcastle stands up. The referee circles around him, his face showing his suspicion, but he’s simply unable to catch Flesher in the act.

 

Maybe it’s because he’s a tool.

 

The Superior One, getting bored with his abdominal stretch, decides to change his grip. He reaches over with his left arm, grabbing Candace’s wrist this time, rather than the top rope. He yanks the arm over, barring it out, and then clamps down with his right arm on the Dragon’s head. He cranks the armbar and reverse facelock, smirking to make a magazine-cover photo.

 

“We’ve seen this before,” says Riley. “It isn’t often that Taamo breaks out the good old stretch plum, but it’s a lethal move in his hands. The only other athlete to make extensive use of it here in the SWF, of course, was Justin Bowers’ trainer, good old Bill Hearford.”

 

“Judge William Hearford has indeed proven a solid trainer, although Justin Bowers doesn’t seem to be taking to the ring quite as easily as he did,” says Comet. “Sadly, not everyone can be as talented a student as Melissa Fasaki.”

 

“Flesher wouldn’t be interested in giving it to Bowers from behind, either,” says Riley gravely. “Really, the differences are striking.”

 

Tom continues cranking the stretch plum, while keeping his head turned toward Allison. The heterosexual Onita sister hops up onto the apron, and she chatters amiably at her man as he keeps the hold but ignores his opponent.

 

“This, if anything, is proof that Tom Flesher refuses to take Candace Okimurra seriously,” says Comet.

 

“Shhh,” says Riley. “I’m trying to hear what they’re talking about.”

 

“But Robert…”

 

“Did she just say ‘sixty-nine?’”

 

After a few more minutes of pleasant social hour, Allison waves goodbye to Flesher and hops back down onto the concrete floor. Flesher shoves Candace away, letting her crumble to the mat. From there, he simple waits for her to get back up.

 

“Citizen Flesher seems to be at a loss as to how to proceed,” says Comet. “He is normally a very reactionary wrestler, but…”

 

“Without any opposition to speak of, he’s in kind of a difficult position,” says Riley. “I can understand why that would be a problem for him. When you get used to a certain level of defense, you lose your ability to make a match flow.”

 

Candace does, however, find her way to her feet after only a few awkward seconds. Dazed, but still on her feet, she looks around the arena in a vain attempt to locate her opponent and prepare some semblance of offense, defense, or ability to do anything other than play Peter McNeely to Flesher’s Mike Tyson. Without Frisco’s willingness to throw in the towel for her, however, Candace is at the mercy of Flesher’s whims.

 

At this point, his whim is to grab her from behind and slap on a waistlock. She struggles to get to the ropes, but to no avail. Before she even knows what hit her, Flesher has lifted her off her feet and thrown her delicate frame over his head with a high-arching German suplex! She hits the mat hard, back and shoulders first, as Flesher lands in a bridge! He rolls to the side and gets to his feet, deadlifting Candace’s tiny body off the canvas with no effort whatsoever. He holds her off the mat, carrying her a few steps while he repositions himself in the center of the mat, and then executes another picture-perfect back arch! He slams the Dragon to the mat, this time throwing her at a higher angle and forcing her to land uncomfortably on her neck. He keeps his grip, however, and is quickly back on his feet. He holds her by the waist and gets ready for another suplex. This time, he takes a deep breath and arches back, throwing Candace so hard that she spins overhead and lands hard on her stomach! She crumbles in a heap, and Flesher rolls out of the ring.

 

“Where the heck is he headed?” asks Riley.

 

“After executing a brilliant series of German suplex variations, Tom Flesher looks very slightly tired. Perhaps he is planning to take a break.”

 

Flesher heads to the front row, where he finds a seven-year-old girl wearing a Mark Stevens t-shirt. He reaches over the guardrail, grabbing at her Big Gulp 7-Up. She pulls it away, and Flesher’s eyes narrow.

 

“What does Citizen Flesher think he’s doing?” asks Comet.

 

“He’s just thirsty. Cut him some slack.”

 

Flesher grabs the youngster’s soda and pulls it away, taking a big sip from the straw. He reaches over to her father, grabbing one side off of his soft pretzel and breaking it off. As the enraged father stands up, Flesher dunks the end of the pretzel into a container of mustard and takes a bite. The girl grabs her soda back and, in a huff, throws it at Flesher! The fans cheer as Tom staggers around, temporarily blinded by the carbonated beverage!

 

“And the sport has reached a new low,” laments Comet.

 

“I hope they kick that snot-nosed punk right out!” Riley growls.

 

As Flesher sells the soda, Candace rolls out of the ring and sneaks up behind him. Flesher doesn’t see her coming, but she leaps off her feet and nails him in the back of the head with an enzuigiri! Flesher staggers forward one step… then another… and finally falls flat on his face on the concrete! The fans burst into cheers and prove, once again, the Flesher Flop is a guaranteed pop.

 

“That is an absolutely ridiculous attack!” fumes Riley. “Tom Flesher is on the outside and, through no fault whatsoever of his own, is temporarily blinded! What does this bitch do? She takes advantage of it! Ridiculous, unethical and completely wrong!”

 

“Candace is simply making every attempt to win the match,” Comet says. “One can hardly blame her.”

 

“It’s immoral!” shouts Riley. “She has no right doing anything in this match! Tom Flesher outclasses her, outweighs her, outwrestles her and outdoes her on every other level! She should be grateful for the opportunity to tap out to him like a true wrestler!”

 

Flesher, though, is in no position to defend himself. Candace lifts him by his singlet straps and rolls him back into the ring, then follows quickly behind. Though she is still breathing heavily due to the length and constancy of the beating she’s endured throughout the match, she takes advantage of Flesher’s stunned state by taking a few seconds to breathe. She follows Flesher in and strolls over to the corner at a leisurely pace. As the Superior One gets back to his feet, she hits the top turnbuckle and leaps off with a missile dropkick! Flesher stumbles forward and collapses again, prompting a shout of encouragement from Frisco. He cheers her on as she gets to her feet and grabs Flesher’s wrist, yanking him to his feet. She pulls back and pivots, whipping him to the ropes. As he runs, she follows behind and hits the ropes at the same time. She dives over the ropes and grabs Flesher’s limbs, locking on the Tarantula! Flesher grimaces in pain as she holds on to the Japanese modified surfboard!

 

“Tarantula!” shouts Comet, as Candace hangs tightly to the hold. She cranks the hold, hoping to get the submission within the five seconds allowable to keep the hold on. Sexton Hardcastle administers his count as she does.

 

ONE!

 

Flesher fights to escape, but can’t fight his way out of the entanglement.

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Finally, disappointed in her lack of ability to end the match, Candace drops out of the hold. She stands on the apron, balancing, as Flesher staggers forward. He holds his back for half a second, and as Candace steps through the ropes, he turns around. She leaps off the mat, throwing a kick at the Superior One’s face!

 

He blocks it, shoving her backwards and raising an eyebrow.

 

“And Tom Flesher just ignores a gamengiri by Dragon Okimurra!” shouts Riley. “Incredible, or possibly not special because Flesher’s f**king amazing.”

 

Flesher takes a step back, his eyes trained on Candace. She steps forward, aggressive, hoping to capitalize on her brief run of offense. She snags his arm, wrenching it to the side, and then pops up with a hook kick to the face! Once again, Flesher stands firm. This time, he actually laughs as he shoves Candace away! She moves toward him once more, but Flesher steps in and rocks her with a stiff palm strike to the face! She staggers backwards, and Flesher hammers here with another shotei! He flurries, hitting her with strike after strike after strike! Finally, she falls to the mat, and Flesher steps over her on his way to the side!

 

“Well, that was fast,” says Riley.

 

Flesher grabs Candace by the arm and unleashes a huge stomp to her ribs. She recoiles, but Flesher drops to the mat. He wraps his legs around Candace’s ribs and lays out to the side, propping his head up on an elbow and reclining as he uses the vice grip on her torso!

 

“Reclining body scissors,” murmurs Comet. “What clear and utter disrespect.”

 

Flesher holds the position for a few seconds before rolling away. Candace, too, rolls to her stomach, and Taamo quickly hooks her arms. He tucks them underneath her knees and rolls her to a kneeling position, locking on THE NELBINA!

 

“Speaking of clear and utter disrespect…” chuckles Riley.

 

As Candace tries to escape, Flesher sits on the back of her neck and flexes his biceps! The crowd boos, and so he dusts his hands off as if he had some sense of accomplishment for embarrassing a rookie. Finally, he stands up and rubs the front of his crotch across Candace’s face! The crowd boos as Frisco snickers, and Allison Onita looks ever so slightly jealous. As Candace blushes, looking absolutely shamed, Flesher backs away. He measures her up, carefully ascertaining the distance… and then BAM! He nails the defenseless Candace with a Yakuza kick!

 

The crowd boos as Flesher poses in the ring. “Tom Flesher,” says Cyclone Comet, “seems to be sending a message, for some reason.”

 

“He wants to send Candace back to Japan! Big deal!”

 

Flesher yanks Candace to her feet and reaches through her legs, applying a pumphandle grip. From there, he arches back, dumping Candace headfirst to the mat with a Logical Disconnect! She collapses to the mat, and Flesher effortlessly floats over.

 

 

ONE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO! Flesher pulls Candace up off the mat, and the fans boo loudly!

 

“And just what does Tom Flesher hope to accomplish?” spits Comet. “Just what is he going to show?”

 

Flesher whips Candace to the ropes. As she rebounds, Flesher stands firm in the center of the ring and extends his arm! Candace runs flush into his palm and collapses under the stepping shotei! Flesher stomps on the Dragon’s chest for the arrogant cover, and Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

 

ONE!!!

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

Funyon makes the announcement…

 

“Your winner, and STILL SWF Cruiserweight Champion… TOM FLESHER!”

 

Frisco hops onto the apron and begins berating Candace in his smarmy, textbook manner. Flesher, however, finds this offensive and grabs the manager by the head! He yanks the manager into the ring and whips him into the corner! As Allison Onita straps on the SWF Cruiserweight Title on the outside, Flesher charges at Frisco and nails him with a running avalanche! As the frail manager staggers out of the corner, Flesher stops him and lifts him to the top rope! He seats Frisco, then leaps into the air, spins and nails the defenseless heel manager with a Venus palm strike! Finally, as the fans begin to cheer, Flesher climbs to the top rope. He stands there, slapping a front facelock on Candace’s manager. Then, he lifts him off the turnbuckle, holding him vertical for a moment before leaping off the top rope and crashing to the mat with a Boilermaker! Frisco collapses in the center of the ring, and Flesher stands up, throwing his arms into the air. “Kashmir” blares through the arena, and Flesher celebrates as the picture fades.

[Thoth 0]

Following his grueling five star classic with Candace "Dragon" Okimurra, the SWF Cruiserweight Champion Tom Flesher is heading back to his locker room. Next to his side, of course, is the lovely Allison Onita. In her hands lies the SWF Cruiserweight title.

 

“Great match out there baby.”

 

“It was a tough one. I don’t know how I pulled up the win. Upset of the century.” Flesher mocks. “Look at this.” Flesher points at his forehead, allowing Allison to squint at his hairline. “I almost broke a sweat” Laughs Flesher. The celebration continues, until a familiar voice is heard off screen…

 

 

“Hey, Flesher!”

 

 

“What…” Flesher gets out before turning around into the elbow of Revolution Zero’s “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins. Flesher stumbles backwards but quickly regains his balance. Jenkins jumps into the attack again as he swings right hands at the skull of Flesher.

 

“AHHHHH” screams Allison as Jet grabs her around the waist and tosses her to the floor. Jet places her boot over the throat of Allison, keeping her from getting involved. Spike continues pounding on Flesher, but Flesher is able to push Spike back. Spike tries to jump back in, but that mere second gave Flesher a second win, and he strikes Spike with a Shotei. Spike falls backwards as Flesher cracks a backhand over Spikes face. Spike drops to the floor, quickly covering up as Flesher beings laying the boots into the Spikes ribcage…

 

 

 

 

…Until Sean Davis drives his own body into The Superior One! Flesher falls to the floor, but quickly stumbles back to his feet. The monster of Revolution Zero grabs Flesher by the back of his head and SPIKES him into wall! Flesher falls to a heap on the floor. Davis pulls Flesher up to his feet again, and again drives him into the wall! Spike gets back to his feet, as he gets in a quick kick to the back of Fleshers head.

 

 

“Get him up! GET HIM UP!” screams Spike as Davis. Davis does as said, lifting the Cruiserweight Champion up to his feet. Davis chicken wings both of Fleshers arms, leaving him defenseless. Spike takes a step back, before unloading kick straight to the groin of The Superior One! Flesher lets out a groan of pain. Davis releases him, and he falls to his knees. Spike grabs the SWF Cruiserweight title off the floor, and drops down next to Flesher, so that both men are face to face.

 

“Do you see this, Flesher?” asks Spike, who grabs Flesher by his hair and forces his head up. Davis grabs both of Fleshers arms and holds them behind his back so he can’t fight back. “DO YOU SEE THIS?” Spike yells in his face. “This title may mean nothing to you. But it means everything to me! EVERYTHING!” Spike gets to his feet, pulls the title back, and cracks it over the skull of Flesher. Tom drops to the floor. Jet moves her boot off of Allison’s throat, giving her one last kick to the ribs. Spike drapes the title over the body of Tom Flesher, before turning to Davis and Jet.

 

“That’s two.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Revolution Zero turn their back on the fallen “Superior One.” They make their way down the hallway, passing by a wide-eyed Ryan Dustin. Dustin looks at the carnage that they just caused.

 

"Damn, what'd Flesher do... no ticket?"

 

 

Not knowing what to do, he turns around to go get help…

 

 

 

…To run into the chest of Sean Davis! Dustin back peddles, not trying to be the next victim of this unstoppable force.

 

“Listen guys, I don’t want any trouble…”

 

Spike steps in front of the giant, eyeing The Real Deal. “No trouble” says Spike, holding his hands in the air to show that he means no harm. “What is it that you are drinking there? Jack Daniels?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Mind if I get a shot?”

 

Dustin hands the bottle covered with a brown paper bag over to Spike. Spike holds the bottle up, showing it off to his Revolution Zero buddies. He takes a sniff of the alcoholic beverage inside, giving Dustin a fake smile. “This is the good stuff, isn’t it?” Dustin nods his head, anything to not to be the next victim. Spike holds the bottle up. “Cheers” says Spike…

 

 

 

…Who throws the bottle into the wall, shattering it into a million pieces inside the brown paper bag that was covering it. Dustin looks shocked at the previous action, as he turns back to Spike who is now stepping closer to him. Spike looks him dead in the eyes, and spits on the ground in front of Dustin.

 

 

“You disgust me.”

 

 

Spike turns his back on the Real Deal, as him and the rest of Revolution Zero walk away. Dustin looks at the ground, then towards the spilled whiskey on the wall. He turns back around to look at the downed Tom Flesher and Allison Onita, with officials surrounding them and helping them up.

 

 

 

[Fade Out]

[Thoth 0]

The Alamo Dome is alive and rocking as Storm returns from its final commercial break, and the Texas crowd is simply buzzing with anticipation for tonight’s main event!

 

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, Citizens, and welcome to the main event!” bellows the voice of Cyclone Comet, as the cameras make a final sweep of the fans before returning to the announce table. “The Toxxic Open Challenge kicks off tonight, and hopefully ends, as the World Champion defends against none other than Johnny Dangerous!”

 

“And what an ass kicking it’ll be,” Bobby cheerfully adds. “Johnny Dangerous thought he was some kind of badass of Smarkdown; hitting our beloved World Champion with a Johnny Kick! Well, I hope Johnny remembers that old proverbial line—you reap what you sow, because he planted the seeds of a mauling on our last show and now it’s time to harvest!”

 

“Perhaps it will be the Straight-Edged Citizen who pays for being so arrogant instead,” counters Comet, quite firmly. “He’s been on a nonstop ego trip since winning the World Title, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if it all came back to slap him in the face for a rude awaking!”

 

“Maybe, but not until his opponent is Tom Flesher. As for this match, Johnny doesn’t stand a chance!”

 

“Well, Robert, we shall see. However, I think it is time for us to stop prognosticating, and see what fate brings, as we turn this one over to Citizen Funyon!”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” bellows Funyon, as the arena goes dark and a single spotlight shines down on him. “The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL and is for the SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION… WORLD… HEAVYWEIGHT… CHAAAAMPIOONSHIIIP!!!” The crowd responds to the announcement with an astounding, though short-lived cheer, and Funyon quickly continues: “Introducing first…”

 

“JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!”

 

A deep, sultry female voice breathes the name of the SWF’s resident super-spy. “After The Flesh” by My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult begins to pound over the speakers, and the crowd erupts with a deafening cheer. Smoke pours onto the stage as tons of strobes cut through it, partially illuminating Johnny Dangerous as he walks out through the curtain onto center stage. Smoke moves all around him like a mysterious fog, and he stands there with his arms out-stretched to the fans to another tremendous pop!

 

“From Las Vegas, Nevada, and weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds,” booms Funyon, “ladies and gentlemen I give you; JOOOHNNY “THE BAAARRAAACUDAAA” DAAANGEROOUS!!”

 

Johnny slides into the ring and goes straight for the nearest turnbuckle. He climbs up and strikes a pose, pumping his fist to the crowd as hundreds of flashbulbs explode from all corners of the arena!

 

“The Barracuda certainly looks ready for tonight’s match,” Comet happily notes. “He seemed to be on a downward spiral with his matches as of late, but after his win against Dace Night he could be onto something great!”

 

“Yeah, a great fall.”

 

As Johnny’s music fades the Smarktron whites out, then slowly starts to darken as the opening chord of “Rookie” by Boy Sets Fire blares over the arena. As the screen reaches black, jagged white letters flash up a phrase that has yet to be proven false…

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG!’

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The screen changes slightly as the jagged guitar riff kicks in and the black becomes the top of a spiky-haired head which rises 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 second his face is shown the crowd launches into a earsplitting chant:

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

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-BAM-BOOOOOOOOOM!!

 

-that signifies the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger as the main riff starts! Toxxic emerges through the smoke with Jet at his side, the World Heavyweight Title slung over his right shoulder and a malicious grin on his face as he listens to the abuse bearing down on him like a vicious hailstorm!

 

“AAAAAAND HIS OPPONENT,” shouts Funyon, straining to be heard over the surge of boos, “accompanied to the ring by his girlfriend Jet; from Nottingham, England, he weighs in at two hundred and eighteen pounds; he is the leader of Revolution Zero and is the reigning and defending SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOON... the “STRAIGHT-EDGE SENSATION”... TOOOOOOOOOXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!”

 

Toxxic and Jet roll under the bottom rope and rise to their feet. The Englishmen’s grin grows wider by the second and he spreads his arms out...

 

bap-bap

 

BOOOOOOOOOM!!

 

...causing each turnbuckle to explode with a shower of red pyro! Toxxic’s music ends rather abruptly, but the fans quickly fill the void of sound with something of their own...

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Toxxic pays them no heed, and as the lights come back up the Straight-Edge Sensation begins his now ceremonious pre-match ritual; a parting kiss to Jet before stripping his shirt off and flinging it carelessly out of the ring. He dangles the World Title out to his side, and Mark Hebner, the official for this match, takes the belt from Toxxic, shows it to Johnny then raises it out to the fans, letting them feast their eyes on the coveted prize before finally turning it over to a ringside assistant.

 

“I think that’s the closest Johnny has ever been to that belt!” snickers Riley. “Too bad it’s as close as he’ll ever get!”

 

Toxxic shares the announcer’s sentiments. He pantomimes the title belt around his waist then points to Johnny, and scoffs at the notion of Dangerous winning it.

 

“Ugh!” Comet cringes. “Once again that arrogance just shines right through!”

 

“You’re acting as if this is something new,” Bobby sarcastically adds.

 

Johnny’s eyes narrow and he tightens his knuckles, balling up a solid fist. It’s obvious that Dangerous is ready to pounce all over this threat presented to him, and make his title reign no more than a simple afterthought. He’ll have to wait though. Before ordering the start of this match, the referee systematically checks the two men for foreign objects. Hebner ends his search with a satisfactory nod then turns towards the timekeeper and signals for the bell.

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

“Bells gone,” declares Comet, as the two men begin a slow-paced circle of one another while the crowd crackles and buzzes with anticipation. Johnny carefully watches the Champion, gauging his stride, and looking for the slightest hint of change in his regular pattern. Toxxic on the other hand, casually walks the circle armed with his trademarked lopsided grin, not a single hint of worry exists. He knows when to doubt his abilities against an opponent and tonight is certainly not one of them. They stop and just look…

 

Then finally move in towards each other, almost simultaneously, looking for a collar-and-elbow tie up…

 

WHACK!

 

But Johnny opts out of the technical game, and instead fires off a lighting quick, stiff punch to the Straight-Edger’s cheek!

 

“Ooh!” shouts the masked announcer, as do most in attendance. “Agent Dangerous is certainly on his toes tonight, as well as he should be. This is without a doubt, the biggest match of his career thus far!”

 

“It’ll be his biggest loss too then,” adds Riley, as the circling starts anew. Toxxic with one hand firmly balled into a fist, and the other hand gingerly rubbing his cheek as he bores a hole through the Barracuda with his dagger-like glare. On the outside of the ring, Jet repeatedly slaps the mat, shouting her encouragements to her boyfriend. One more circle and then they approach each other again, ostensibly for another tie-up, but it’s a feigned attempt by the Straight-Edger, “-and this time he gets the shot in!” the closet announcer exclaims.

 

WHACK!

 

Johnny stumbles backwards from the shot and Toxxic quickly chases after him, unwilling to give the same quarter extended to him a moment ago! Toxxic swings at Dangerous, but the Secret Agent puts his lighting-quick reflexes into action, ducking under the arm and popping up behind the Challenger. The Straight-Edger hastily spins around and snaps back to the defensive, ready to battle back a pressured attack by the Barracuda. However, Johnny is stopped several feet away—martial arts stance assumed—and he beckons the Champion nearer!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

The crowd roars to life at the notion, burning with desire to see the Straight-Edger finally get what’s coming to him, and what better way then with some stiff kicks from the Barracuda! Unfortunately it isn’t happening right now, and the fans energy is sucked right out of the building as Toxxic backs away, shamefully waving his finger towards his challenger as if to say “Yeah, right!”

 

“Johnny’s absolutely deluded if he thinks he can lure Toxxic into a crappy kung fu showdown,” spits Bobby. “Toxxic doesn’t play into anybody’s games, and especially not his!”

 

Once more the two begin to circle the ring tentatively, and the crowd starts up with a “JOOOOH-NE! JOOOOH-NE! JOOOOH-NE!” chant, hoping to get that momentum building again. Johnny hears them quite clearly, but he knows not to divert his attention away from his opponent. He has to keep his focus for now. The two competitors suddenly leap towards each other, finally clashing with a murderous collar-and-elbow lock up, fighting for purchase like two gladiators!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

They scramble for leverage until Johnny manages to overpower his opponent, powering him back towards the corner. Hebner immediately calls for the clean break, but Johnny keeps pushing and Toxxic tries his damnedest to get his opponent off of him! Toxxic desperately fires off two short forearms and Johnny wobbles out of the corner a bit, giving the Straight-Edger some space. Finally, Dangerous concedes to the break as the ref starts counting, but only after a parting jab to the Champion’s cheek!

 

“Total disrespect for our Champion!” cries Riley. “I tell you, Johnny’s going to dig his hole so deep he won’t be able to crawl his way out!”

 

Seemingly flustered over the last shot, Toxxic suddenly explodes out of the corner, reaching out for another tie up. Johnny braces himself to accept the offer and it’s just the hook Toxxic was baiting for. Toxxic quickly ducks down and hurdles himself at the Barracuda’s legs for a shoulder tackle, sending Johnny face-first to the mat! Johnny kips up but the Straight-Edger is already halfway across the ring, picking up some serious steam. He hits the ropes and rebounds towards Johnny—just as Dangerous spins back around…

 

WHAM!

 

…and Toxxic floors him with a running clothesline! Toxxic hooks the leg to cover for…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TW-NOOO! Johnny kicks out, but the Straight-Edger isn’t about to give him any room to breathe. As the Secret Agent starts to find his way to his feet Toxxic greets him with a knee into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards, then closes in and rattles Johnny’s brain with a European Uppercut!

 

WHAM!

 

The shot sends Dangerous straight to the canvas seeing stars, and Toxxic hooks the leg again as Jet cheers him on from the outside!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO-NOOO! Again Johnny kicks out, this time shoving the World Champion away as he does…

 

“I have to admit; Toxxic has really stepped up the intensity for this match,” notes Comet. “It seems that right now he is simply trying to rattle the Barracuda and disorient him long enough to nail a Caffeine Bomb!”

 

“An effective game plan if you ask me, and unlike the heavyweights the Toxxic has primarily been engaged with he can match Johnny blow for blow,” Riley says. “With this match, Toxxic has the chance to do what he loves best – a good old slobberknocker!”

 

“Dear Zeus,” gags Comet. “If there’s one person who shouldn’t use that word it’s definitely you, Robert. The mental image is just disturbing!”

 

“…shut up, Comet!”

 

Johnny gets to his knees, gingerly rubbing his chin, and Toxxic storms right back in determined to keep the pressure so tight Dangerous would need the ‘Jaws of Life’ to escape! He kicks his foot towards the Challenger’s jaw – only to suddenly have his foot snared by the Barracuda! Toxxic is caught completely off balance and the Champion is unable to catch himself before Johnny quickly twists him to the mat, face-first, and snaps his foot into an ankle lock!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

Toxxic cries out in half pain, half desperation, as Johnny cranks away on his ankle, much to the audience’s pleasing! Dangerous grimaces in determination, but unfortunately for him when he brought Toxxic down it was within arms reach of the ropes, and the Champion hastily reaches for them! Hebner calls for the break and Johnny graciously obliges, not wanting to get anywhere near a potential disqualification. Toxxic lets out a sigh of relief, “-and our World Champion knows he doesn’t want to get trapped into any of Agent Dangerous’ deadly submissions,” says Comet. “He made a mistake by feeding Johnny his foot there and I’ll bet you my bottom dollar he doesn’t make the same mistake again!”

 

“More like Johnny got lucky!” snaps Riley. “You also forget that Toxxic won his World Title in a match that also contained Tom Flesher, the authority on submissions around here. If he can survive Tom than he can certainly survive this moron!”

 

Toxxic is a little slower to get to his feet this time, so Johnny slaps on a quick arm wrench and pulls him to his feet before stepping forward and whipping the Champion across the ring. Toxxic goes sailing into the ropes, and Dangerous waits, crouched down for the rebound, but the Champion isn’t coming back. Having hooked his arms around the ropes Toxxic avoids the return. He then drops down and rolls out of the ring to collect his thoughts, and more importantly, to keep the match flowing under his control. However, his challenger has other ideas about that. Johnny races across the ring then drops down with a baseball slide, but he misses as Toxxic frantically dodges out of the way. Toxxic doesn’t miss with a high kick to the Challenger’s chest though, and he nails Johnny the second he drops out of the ring!

 

CRACK!

 

Johnny staggers back, grimacing, with a hand to his chest, and the Champion peppers his head with a few quick punches. Johnny stumbles back and forth, momentarily stunned, and Toxxic grabs him by his head, leads him to the side of the ring then drives him face-first into the apron!

 

WHACK!

 

Dangerous’ head pops off the apron and it throws his entire body backwards, leaving him sprawled out on his backside on the thinly-padded floor. Toxxic smiles wickedly, raising his arms in triumph as his girlfriend Jet cheers him on in the distance, and of course… the crowd boos, and they boo furiously!

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

The chant from the crowd does little more than cause Toxxic to chuckle slightly, almost as if he were enjoying it... and deep down he probably is. He finally turns back to Johnny, pulls him up by his jet-black mane, and rolls him into the ring under the referee’s urging. Though a count out would certainly be an easy way to keep the title around his waist, it doesn’t carry the same satisfaction of pinning Johnny’s shoulders to the mat for three. Toxxic plans to make just that happen. He hops up to the outside apron then carefully measures his distance from Johnny, and as the Secret Agent staggers to his feet, Toxxic vaults to the top rope and springs off, sinking both feet squarely into the Challenger’s chest!

 

WHAM!

 

Johnny is floored once again, and Toxxic drops over him as the count goes for…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

NOOO!!!

 

“Agent Dangerous manages to get the shoulder up after two,” says Comet, “but right now he’s not looking so hot against the Champion.”

 

“No shit, Sherlock!” snaps Riley. “I mean, granted, the ladies might shrill for him, but he’s certainly no Tom Flesher.”

 

“I’m talking about his in-ring status, Robert! By Zeus, you are one sick little man!”

 

Riley flushes bright red, and luckily for him the action in the ring is enough to divert the attention. Toxxic reaches down and grabs Johnny by both sides of his head, pulling him to his feet, only to be met with a sharp chop to his chest!

 

SMACK! “WHOOOOO!!”

 

The fans cheer in delight as the World Champion stumbles backwards, having been caught totally off guard by the chop! Johnny quickly charges forward, but Toxxic quickly sidesteps the Barracuda and catches him in a rear headlock then drops down to one knee, driving the other into Johnny’s neck! Toxxic pops right back up to his feet, pulling Dangerous up with him, then spins around to put his back to Johnny’s chest, and drops him with a Diamond Cutter!

 

WHAM!

 

“Agent Dangerous blindly ran out into the battlefield there, and got nailed with the Detoxx!” Comet says, as Toxxic rolls the Barracuda onto his back and pins him.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

TH-NOOOO!!! Johnny kicks out, much to the joy of this Texas crowd, and much to the irritation of the World Champion. Nonetheless, Toxxic simply reaches down and pulls the Barracuda back up, then drops him back to the canvas with an elbow to the back of the Barracuda’s neck! Johnny cringes and howls in pain, with one hand clasping his burning neck…

 

“You have to be asking yourself right about now, how much more of this abuse can Johnny possibly take before he finally gives in?” says Riley. “He’d be better off taking the loss now before Toxxic seriously injures his neck!”

 

The crowd starts getting heated; they chant for the Secret Agent as Toxxic begins pulling him back up to his feet once again…

 

“LET’S GO JOHNNY, LET’S GO!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!

 

“LET’S GO JOHNNY, LET’S GO!” CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!

 

“This crowd is starting to get fired up,” notes Comet, right before Toxxic sticks his elbow out once again, and jams the point of it straight into the back of Johnny’s neck!

 

WHACK!

 

Dangerous goes face-first to the mat, crying out in pain! He cradles his neck with both hands, and the fans fire off with a horrendously loud, raucous -

 

“-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

Like previously, the only two people in the arena not booing are Riley, and Toxxic’s girlfriend Jet, the latter of the two actually jumping up and down excitedly! Toxxic turns towards the fans and raises his arms out to them, smiling with that lopsided grin, and of course they rain down on him even harder! He doesn’t care one bit though -- dismantling a crowd favorite right in front of their very eyes is starting to become tradition for him, and it’s one that he certainly enjoys. He finally heads back towards his challenger, who by now has started to make his way up to his feet while still nursing his throbbing neck. Johnny staggers forward… then stumbles two steps back, proving that the neck shots weren’t the only thing to have an effect on the Barracuda. Toxxic presses forward, charging towards Johnny with his fist tightly balled up, and his arm reared back then slings in a…

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

Toxxic winds up as Johnny reels from the punches then spins back around for a Discus Clothesline…

 

 

 

NOOOO!!! Out of pure desperation, Johnny ducks down, narrowly avoiding having his head permanently separated from his shoulders, and grabs around Toxxic’s waist from behind, hauls him over, and drills the Straight-Edger into the mat with a German Suplex!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Finally!” exclaims Comet, as the arena roars to life. “Toxxic got a little too overconfident, a little to much showboating, and he pays as Johnny puts him down with an absolutely beautiful German suplex!”

 

“Pure desperation!” cries Riley. “And after the beating Toxxic just handed out, Johnny’s down too—he can’t hope to capitalize!”

 

Hebner steps in to survey the situation, and with neither man showing any signs of moving soon, he begins the ten count as the fans stir up a chant!

 

“ONE!”

 

“JOOOOHN-E!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“JOOOOHN-E!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“JOOOOHN-E!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

“JOOOOHN-E!”

 

“FIVE!”

 

Johnny is the first to stir, and he does so with a blood curdled cry of pain, and to a roaring cheer from the fans! He rolls onto his stomach and starts to push up off the mat, but the referee is still counting…

 

“SIX!”

 

Toxxic finally moves now, and he crawls one handed towards the ropes, as his other hand holds dearly to the back of his lower neck.

 

“SEVEN!”

 

“EIGHT!”

 

Just before the count gets to nine the two men are finally back up. It’s enough to end the count, but the two men aren’t so quick to reengage. Johnny feigns rushing in and Toxxic bites, storming in to engage in another showdown, but gets a boot to the gut! Dangerous’ foot rocks the Champion’s ribcage, and he doubles over clenching his stomach. Johnny quickly snares the Champion in a side head lock then reaches down and grabs the side of Toxxic’s baggy pants, lifting him up for a vertical suplex. He stalls for a moment, suspending Toxxic in mid-air as the crowd rises with enthusiasm…

 

WHAM!

 

… and Johnny falls backwards, slamming Toxxic back-first into the canvas! The Champion cringes on impact, and Johnny just lays there, still holding onto Toxxic by the head… then kips his leg up and rolls it to the side, bringing both men to their feet, and the crowd out of their seats!

 

“By the sands of time!” exclaims Comet. “Agent Dangerous is mounting a comeback for this match with the rolling vertical suplex’s!”

 

But as the Barracuda reaches down to grab the side of Toxxic’s pants and continue his triple set, the Champion frantically slings his fist into Johnny’s gut! An “Oof!” escapes the Secret Agent’s lips, and a second shot to the gut from Toxxic proves to be enough to bat Johnny away!

 

“Ha!” snorts Riley. “Consider that comeback blocked!”

 

Toxxic races in from behind then spins around, putting his back to Dangerous’ as he reaches around for his opponent’s forehead, looking for the Underkill! But before he can get a firm grasp on the Barracuda, Johnny slides down and spins out of harms reach. Toxxic quickly spins on his heel, he isn’t about to put his back to this opponent and not expect an attack, but when he spins around…

 

SMACK! “WHOOOOO!!”

SMACK! “WHOOOOO!!”

SMACK! “WHOOOOO!!”

 

Johnny unloads with a series of eye-watering knife-edged chops, lighting up the Champion’s chest and backing him all the way into the far ropes! Toxxic howls in agony while holding dearly to his beet-red chest, and offers up no defense to the Barracuda as he is grabbed by his arm, “-and the Barracuda is on the warpath!” exclaims the masked announcer. “I don’t think Toxxic was expecting this much of a fight when he took on the Open Challenge!”

 

Johnny steps forward and slings the Straight-Edger diagonally across the ring, sending the Champion back first into the unforgiving steel post!

 

CRACK!

 

“OOOOH!” The crowd winces at the impact as Toxxic crunches into the turnbuckles then staggers out of the corner; one hand gripping his back while the other still nurses his sore neck. He unintentionally stumbles right into the Barracuda’s path, and like before, offers no defense to his opponent as he is taken by the arm and whipped into the adjacent post, and THIS time Johnny gives chase!

 

NOOOO!! Showing that he isn’t subduing to his less than worthy opponent just yet, Toxxic vaults up to the top of the turnbuckle, and springs off for a Role Reversal, twisting in mid-air

 

KA-RAAAACK!

 

But Johnny manages to beat Toxxic to the punch, lashing out with a lighting-quick spinning heel kick as the Champion comes sailing towards him, blasting him in mid-air!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

 

“WHOA!” Comet excitedly shouts, as the fans explode into cheers. “What a hit! I can’t believe it! Agent Dangerous has turned the tides of this match and in doing so, has completely decimated the WORLD CHAMPION!”

 

“Not with anything legal, anyway,” spits Bobby. “Johnny should be disqualified for that kind of crap! Where in the hell does it say that spinning heel kicks are allowed in a wrestling match—this is bullshit!”

 

“Is it really? Especially since Toxxic has that exact same kick in his arsenal!?”

 

Johnny drops to his knees and heaves himself over his opponent, covering for…

 

 

ONEE!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOO!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOO!!!! Before Hebner can even begin the motion of the final count, Toxxic thrusts his shoulder off the mat! The crowd groans in despair and Johnny silently damns the situation, but he quickly goes back to his task at hand. He grabs the Champion and drags him up by his scalp, then thrusts his knee into the Straight-Edger’s gut! Toxxic doubles over, grimacing as he clenches his midsection, and Johnny ducks down and shoots the legs, hauling his opponent onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The crowd is on the edge of their seats, cheering whole-heartedly as Johnny looks out to them with Toxxic draped over his shoulders, and lets out a tremendous battle cry! The Barracuda takes a single step forward… then flips forward…

 

 

WHAAAM!!

 

 

…and drills Toxxic back first into the canvas with a colossal thud!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Spinal Exploder!” calls Comet. “Johnny takes another shot to Citizen Toxxic’s back, and I don’t know how much more of this abuse the Champion can take!”

 

“Oh, he can take plenty alright,” hisses Bobby. “His match at Ground Zero, followed by his match with Dace Night should have proved that to you!”

 

However, Johnny aims to prove the colorful Bobby Riley wrong and drops down to pin his opponent! He grabs Toxxic’s leg and rolls back on it, firmly pinning the Champion’s shoulder’s to the mat as the referee drops down to count for…

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NOOOO!!!!!! Toxxic kicks out, but Johnny doesn’t give him any room to recover. Snatching the Straight-Edger by his head, Johnny starts to pull him up… and suddenly gets rolled up into a pin!

 

“ROLL UP! HE’S GOT ‘EM!”

 

Hebner dives to count as Toxxic pushes down with everything he’s got for…

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-NOOOOO!!!!!! Johnny kicks out, but just barely! He scrambles to the edge of the ring, frantically breathing from nearly having been outsmarted by the Straight-Edger, and Toxxic stalks after him like a madman! It’s not hard to tell that the World Champion is more than just pissed, he’s absolutely livid, and rightfully so. The Open Challenge was meant for him to chalk up a ton of successful title defenses, one after the other. In fact, his next defense has already been planned, but if the next proves to be as daunting of a task as this one, he may have to rethink the entry requirements. He grabs around Johnny’s waist from behind, and pulls him in… only to eat an elbow to the side of his head!

 

CRACK!

 

Toxxic roars in rage as he stumbles to the side, holding his head, until the Barracuda grabs his arm and pulls it away, then thunders his open fist straight into Toxxic’s head, right between the eyes, with a vicious Shotei Palmstrike!

 

THH-WAACK!

 

The crowd rises to their collective feet, dripping with hope as the Straight-Edger staggers backwards and Johnny rushes in, scooping the Champion off his feet with a fall away slam as Comet bellows, “-MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-”

 

SLAAAAM!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!”

 

“MI SLAM! MI SLAM! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!” exclaims Comet, as Toxxic remains motionless on the mat after having his neck-and-shoulders drilled into the canvas and the crowd goes utterly ballistic! Johnny crawls over his opponent, and with the knowledge firmly implanted in his mind that he has won, the Barracuda makes the cover!

 

“This can’t be happening!” cries Bobby. “This is only the first night of what is to be numerous Toxxic Open Challenges—Johnny’s not suppose to win!”

 

 

ONEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! Toxxic kicks out, however weakly, but with only half a nanosecond to spare!

 

“SWEET ZOMBIE JESUS!” cries Comet, simply amazed by the World Champion’s resilience as are most in attendance. “I can’t believe it! Toxxic kicked out of the MI Slam! I was for sure Agent Dangerous had him!”

 

“That’s what happens when you try to cast a shadow of doubt on our World Champion’s abilities!” snaps Riley, forgetting that he himself doubted only moments ago. Toxxic rises to his feet, and all Johnny can do is watch in amazement. How is he supposed to beat this man? Or is he even really meant to? He gets back to his feet, following the Straight-Edger as Toxxic pulls himself up by the corner, and leans back in it, desperately trying to catch his breath. Johnny closes in with his fist balled so tightly that his knuckles are starting to turn white, and he lifts the Champion’s chin up so that he can see what’s coming at him… and Toxxic frantically boots him in the gut! Dangerous doubles over, dry heaving from having all his wind forcefully knocked out of him, and Toxxic quickly leaps towards him, snaring his head with a skull-shattering tornado DDT!

 

 

WHAAAAM!!!

 

 

“TOXXIC SHOCK SYNDROME!” shouts Riley. “Toxxic caught him off guard with that one, and in a single move he has swung the match back around in his favor!”

 

Unfortunately, all the Straight-Edger can do is lie where he landed, unable to move in and take the cover. Once more Hebner is forced to step in and utilize the ten count…

 

“ONE!” he begins, and the crowd starts to get excited. It could be anyone’s game from here, but who will be able to rise first!

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

Finally, by the count of five, that question is answered as the World Champion moves first. Only he doesn’t just roll over and slowly climb to his feet, “-Toxxic nipped up!” a stunned Comet shouts as the Straight-Edger nips up to his feet! “He’s got to be running on empty though, that’s the only explanation!”

 

“He just switched over to the reserve tank,” replies Bobby. “That’s how he keeps going, and that’s how he became the World Champion!”

 

The crowd trashes the Champion with an onslaught of boos, but Toxxic isn’t concerned with them right now, he’s got a match to win! First, he’s got some vengeance to extract though, and he rolls the weary Barracuda onto his back then mounts him…

 

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

 

Hebner warns the Champion to get off his opponent, but right now the Straight-Edger is a world away, and he keeps belting shot after shot into Johnny!

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

Toxxic finally rolls off before reaching the final count. He may be pissed, but he’s still going to make sure Johnny falls to the dreaded three count. Johnny rolls onto his stomach, growling in a mix of anger and sheer agony, and Toxxic grabs him by his hair…

 

“Dear Zeus…” Comet watches in despair, knowing exactly what’s about to happen next, as do most of the fans. They rise up with a boo and a hiss… and Toxxic pulls Johnny into a front headlock…

 

“I’m sorry you missed your morning coffee, sir,” snickers Riley, “but how about a nice Caffeine Bomb to make up for it!”

 

“Shut up, you cretin!”

 

Toxxic reaches down to shoot the leg, but Johnny reaches up and desperately grabs the World Champion’s arm, ripping it away from his face, and quickly spins around, taking the Straight-Edger over with a martial arts arm drag!

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

The crowd roars in delight at the sight of Johnny Dangerous escaping the Caffeine Bomb, but it does nothing more than fully enrage Toxxic! He jumps back up to his feet to meet the Barracuda, but Johnny is ready for him this time, and he sails a stiff roundhouse kick into the Champion’s chest!

 

WHACK!

 

Toxxic staggers back, but he refuses to go down! He won’t fall…

 

KA-RAAAAAAAAACK!!

 

Unit the Secret Agent nails him squarely in the jaw with his trademarked Johnny Kick, flooring him instantly. It’s lights out, and the fans are enthused by the possibilities! Johnny will take no chances though; the Champion had already kicked out of the MI Slam and he isn’t about to give him that chance twice. He Rushes to the nearest turnbuckle, and quickly leaps to the top while turning to face the inside of the ring. He takes only one second to measure the distance then back-flips off the post, into the ring…

 

“Shooting Johnny Press coming up!” shouts Comet. “If he hit’s this you can kiss the Toxxic Open Challenge goodnight!”

 

He reaches the apex of his jump, straightens himself out, and starts coming down while arching his arms and legs back…

 

 

WHAAAAAAM!!

 

 

… and Johnny hits a Shooting Star Press with such force that he bounces off his opponent and up to his knees, clenching his chest and grimacing in pain!

 

“And he gets it!” shouts Comet. “It looks like he might have knocked the wind out of himself too, but if he wants that title he’d better suck it up and take the pin while he has the chance!”

 

Comet’s words are Johnny’s thoughts. He knows this is the only chance he will get, so he crawls back to Toxxic, and drops down over him as Jet looks on from the outside, absolutely horrified. Hebner makes the count as the crowd joyfully shouts along…

 

 

ONEEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!”

 

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

The crowd quite simply explodes the moment Hebner calls for the bell, blowing the roof off the arena in the process! “After the Flesh” thunders out from the speakers, but it’s barely heard over the magnificent cheers of these fans!

 

“BY THE GREAT HANDS OF ZEUS!” exclaims Comet, who has to literally shout into his mouthpiece to be heard over the raging fans. “Johnny Dangerous wins! The Secret Agent has done what nobody thought possible, and will you just listen to these fans!”

 

Hebner comes back into the ring with the World Heavyweight title belt draped over one arm then hands it over to the Barracuda, who is on his knees, completely shocked. He takes the belt and carefully stands up with the referee’s help then the realization finally seems to kick in. Johnny lets out a joyous cry to the cheering fans and pumps the title high overhead!

 

“The winner of this match by pinfall,” bellows Funyon, rather excitedly, “and the NEEEEEEW SMARTMARK WRESTLING FEDERATION WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOOOOOON… JOOOHNNY ‘THE BAAAAAAAARRAAAAAAACUDAAAAA’ DAAAAAAAAAANGEROUUUS!!!”

 

-and who ever thought we’d hear that line from Funyon’s mouth!” shouts Comet, still smiling from ea-to-ear. “But after a long road of hard work, Johnny Dangerous has just fulfilled the dream that every Superstar here has—to become the Champion of the world!”

 

“T-T-This is just so unbelievable!” cries Riley, who is still try to retract his jaw from the table. “What in the FUCK just happened!?”

 

“Johnny Dangerous just unseated the fastest growing rookie to ever grace this federation, that’s what!” snaps Comet, with an added nod.”

 

“It’s absolute and total fucking bullshit--that was a fast count! Someone fire Hebner!” roars Bobby. “There is going to be hell to pay for this one!”

 

“I’m sure someone will try to give it to him,” agrees Comet. “I’m almost afraid to think about what will happen on Lockdown, but for now…all the glory goes to our new Champion for an incredible victory here tonight!”

 

The cameras stay on Johnny as he climbs the corner post and raises the World title out to the fans. Thousands of flashbulbs pop from all corners of the arena. Every fan armed with a camera forever captures the moment on film before the show finally fades to black…

 

===

SWF Storm.

©Copyright 2004 – The Smartmark Wrestling Federation. All rights reserved.

[Thoth 0]

With the main event over, the cameras cut backstage to where someone has finally caught up with Megan Skye...a cameraman, following her as she scuttles down an otherwise deserted hallway, as if playing a game of hide-and-seek. With no-one in sight, Megan continues on down the hall, scuttling along as fast as she can with her high-heels on. What she is running around for, or who for, we can't tell. But whatever it is for, it must be important as Megan looks almost as nervous as Card and Natasha did earlier. Turning the corner, Megan looks down the next hallway to the left and sighs, turning to the right...and stopping for a moment, before scuttling forwards...

 

"LANDON! LANDON WAIT! LA..."

 

 

"UUUURRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!"

 

Suddenly Megan flies out of camera shot to the side, hitting the cold concrete floor with a splat. The cameraman dives to the floor to protect himself and by the time he regains his bearings, we can see Natasha crouched over Megan, having speared her viciously to the floor. Despite the landing, Megan pulls herself up and lunges for Natasha weakly...

 

 

 

...as suddenly a hand grabs her around the throat and pushes her up against the nearest wall...

 

 

 

Chris Card's hand!

 

"HEEEL..."

 

Quickly his other hand clasps over her mouth, preventing her cries for help.

 

"Big mistake little lady." Card says, as if scorning a little child rather than choking the life out of a woman. "Now, I know you want to be the little hero in this, but I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

 

Megan, frantically trying to struggle free from Card's grip, starts to scream and shout...but all that can be heard is a faint mumbling and the odd cough and splutter. But still, Card clings onto her and even tightens the chokehold on her.

 

"Now...here's what's going to happen sweet-cheeks. You're going to come with us and we're going to talk this over...rationally. I know this has come as a bit of a shock to you. But when we explain things. Well, I'm sure you'll understand and this whole mess will be sorted out with minimum fuss."

 

Megan tries to speak again, as Card releases the choke slightly.

 

"See, this is for your own good Megan. Trust me. This is for your own good and for Landon's own good. You don't realise..."

 

Megan tries to speak, but this time Card tightens up the chokehold again, striking fear through the diminutive Skye.

 

"You don't REALISE what you're getting into. You don't have the faintest idea. As much as you think blurting out the truth to Landon is going to help, it really isn't because right now he's safe. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. But when he does know...well, I'm sure you have an inkling as to what is going to happen. Or at least, you do if you know what Natasha thinks you know."

 

Realising Megan is beginning to turn a faint shade or purple, Card finally releases the choke and instead grabs her by the shoulder to keep her pressed up against the wall.

 

"I'm gonna take my hand away now...but, if you make the slightest peep, then don't think I won't punch your li...OOOOOOF!"

 

 

Suddenly, Megan knees Card in the groin and he doubles over instantly, releasing Megan. She quickly takes advantage and lamps the charging Natasha with a kick to the gut which sends her crashing to the floor on her ass. With her down, Megan quickly kicks Card in the groin again, before pushing him into a handily placed trash can.

 

"LANDON! LANDON HEEELP!!!"

 

Card gets back up quickly though and goes for Card again, but suddenly Landon Maddix...who had been standing out vision talking to a backstage worker...suddenly hears the cries for help and begins to run over...getting halfway, before wondering what the hell is going on. Seeing Card and Natasha, he assumes everything has been sorted...

 

"LANDON..."

 

...UNTIL CARD PUNCHES MEGAN!!!

 

 

Finally Landon, still wondering what to think, charges forward and Card tries to run. But Maddix is far quicker than Card and catches up to him, taking him to the concrete floor with a rugby tackle that Sacred would be proud of before mounting his mentor and pounding his face in with a series of punches. Card's attempts to get away weaken quickly, as Landon grabs Card by the throat.

 

"What the FUCK are you doing!?!" Landon screams at the cowering Card, before landing another punch. "What is this about!?!"

 

"La..."

 

Landon punches Card again, squarely across the bridge of the nose.

 

"Give me a straight answer you fucking son of a bitch...what the fuck is this!?!"

 

"I...she...Landon, don't...don't believe what she..."

 

Angrily Maddix nails another punch, but suddenly Natasha runs over and rakes Maddix's eyes. With a wail he falls to the side, allowing Natasha to help Card to his feet and get him running off. As both Natasha and Card run for the hills, Maddix thinks about following after them but suddenly remembers Megan, turning to her diving over to check if she's ok...which she seems to be, despite blood trickling down her nose which seems pretty mis-shapen.

 

"Are you ok?" Landon says worriedly as he tries to wipe the blood off his manager's lips, only for her to push his hand away. "What's going on Megan...what is this? And please jus..."

 

"Landon we've been...ouch..."

 

"Are you..."

 

"I'm fine. Look...we need to talk about this in private Landon, this is..."

 

"Megan, if you don't tell me what the hell is going on here, I'm gonna have to go after them and I will get the truth out of them one way or the other."

 

Wiping some of the blood from her face with her shaking hand, Megan tries to escape Maddix's gaze but can't and finally sighs.

 

"Chris...isn't legit. Look, it's a long story but he...doesn't work for us."

 

"What do you mean he doesn't work for us? Of course he works for us. He's be..."

 

"Landon!" Megan snaps. "He DOESN'T. Look, I've got him on video and I've over-heard them talking. Card isn't out for our best interests. He's...working for someone else. Someone is paying him to do their work for them. And that work is to keep you out of the World Title contention, but diverting your attentions. Why do you think you suddenly got that ICTV Championship shot? Why do you think you haven't been in a number one contendership match for the World Title since Card took over with us. Those phone calls were all strategy planning sessions...going right on under our noses. Remember the submissions match stipulation that came out of nowhere? That was Card. The reason you haven't been defending the ICTV Championship recently? That was Card. Card is selling us both down the river."

 

Landon looks bemused as he sits next to Megan up against the wall, head in his hands and breathing heavily.

 

"That doesn't make any sense." Maddix finally mumbles. "I mean...why?"

 

"The person Card is working for. He doesn't want you to win the World Championship. He looked at you, he looked at Toxxic and he decided he wanted Toxxic to be the next guy to run for the title. So, he hired Card to divert your attentions away from the belt. You know...Card never went to Zenon about you wanting to answer the Toxxic Open Challenge."

 

"He didn't?"

 

"No."

 

"Look, Megan...this still doesn't make any sense. Why the hell would someone hire Card to keep me from the title if they wanted Toxxic to be the champion?"

 

"Well, I'm not sure if they wanted Toxxic to be champion for certain. But it seems that way. Besides, if they did, Toxxic's not going to accept help from anyone. But I think the issue is, they don't want you as champion."

 

"They?"

 

"Well, 'he'."

 

"And who is 'he'?"

 

 

 

"King."

 

Landon looks even more confused than before, as Megan sighs.

 

"Suicide King."

[Thoth 0]

Great friggin' show. Lots of promos. A bunch of people actually wrote. Lots of stuff.

 

Pleased I am. Card soon.