SWF Storm

[Thoth 0]

HERE WE GO!! SWF STORM IS LIVE AND BREWING!!!

 

BADA-BOOM! BADA-BOOM BADA-BOOM-BOOM-BOOOOOOOOM!!!!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!

 

“Welcome, Citizens, one and all!” bellows the voice of the masked announcer, as the cameras pan over the sea of fans in attendance. Many of the fans have brought their signs displaying their love or hate for certain SWF Superstars, and while most of them flat out suck, a few catch the cameraman’s eye. “Flesher 2020”, “Spike carries Revolution Zero”, and a huge section dedicated solely to hometown hero Judge William Hearford.

 

We are coming at you LIVE from the SOLD-OUT Joe Louis Arena, in the heart of Sooner Nation, and you are watching SWF LOCKDOOOOOWN! We have a stacked show waiting for all of you true believers, and bringing you all this exciting action will be me alongside my broadcast partner, Bobby Riley, and I am-”

 

“-Oh God, not this…”

 

“CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE COMET~!”

 

BOOM!

 

A final pyro rockets to the stratosphere and explodes, punctuating the masked announcer’s battle cry!

 

“Jesus, I think it’s time I renegotiated my contract for some of that pyro,” mutters Riley. “That’s twice now that you got some!”

 

“I get some every night, fair Citizen!” replies Comet, with a wide-toothed grin. “Anyway, you’ll want to be careful not to blink tonight as we have a very stacked, pulse-pounding, exciting filled show! Kicking it off tonight will be one of my new personal favorites-”

 

“PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG!”

 

Those familiar words burn across the Smarktron as “Rookie” by Boy Set’s Fire begins to pound from the speakers…

 

“HA!” cackles Bobby. “How’d you like that timing, Comet!”

 

“…Shut up, Heathen!”

 

In almost record time for an entrance, Toxxic strolls out from backstage rather briskly. It’s obvious that he has something highly important to get off his chest tonight, and he hasn’t the time to waste! Nonetheless, message or not, the crowds boo with zeal~! Insults along with a few balled up popcorn bags are hurled towards the Straight-Edge Sensation, but not a single one hits.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” bellows Funyon, “please welcome to the ring at this time; the “Straihgt-Edge Sensation”… TOOOOXXIIIIIC!!”

 

“Pfft… Weclome,” grumbles Comet, obviously not glad to see the Straight-Edger as Toxxic slides into the ring and motions for Funyon’s microphone. The announcer complies, not wanting to see what a Caffeine Bomb is all about then scurries from the ring.

 

Toxxic raises the microphone to his lips, ready to deliver his thoughts. “Well,” he begins, but before he can get much further the crowd fires up a chant:

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS! TOXX-IC SUCKS! TOXX-IC SUCKS! TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

The Straight-Edger scoffs at these fans obvious ignorance, noting the section of Judge Mental devotees as further proof. “So, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted-”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“Not much love from the fans of Detroit Rock City,” notes Comet.

 

“It’s morons like you that encourage this kind of behavior!” snaps Bobby. “…and you call yourself a hero! Pshaw!”

 

“The hell with it,” spits Toxxic, not in the mood to deal with these dim-wits tonight. “There is just one man I have something to say to right now, and that man is Johnny Dangerous.”

 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“JOHN-EE! JOHN-EE! JOHN-EE!”

 

“Oh, shut up,” the Straight-Edge Sensation tells the Detroit fans, although without much rancour. “Johnny, “ he continues, “no doubt you’ve watched Smarkdown now and seen my involvement in your match. And right now you’re probably sitting backstage with your James Bond wristwatch, and your decoder set, and some invisible ink pen you got free in a packet of Cookie Crisp, and you want an explanation. Well, I think my actions need an explanation, so I’ll be only too pleased to give it to you.”

 

“Toxxic is sounding reasonable, for him,” Cyclone Comet tells the viewers at home. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

 

“You see Johnny, I’d love to believe that you could go into a Hell In a Cell and beat Jamie Drazon. It would have made my life so much easier,” the straight-edger informs the Barracuda.. “But sadly, I couldn’t trust you to do that much. I knew, just as everyone here did, that it was too tall an order for you.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Drazon’s an animal, Johnny,” Toxxic explains. “You might have stalled him for a while, but in that environment he was always going to rip you apart. The trouble is, I can’t allow that to happen while you hold my belt, because then it goes out of the loop. You beat me, I acknowledge that, but now I need to get my chance to beat you back. You didn’t earn your match, I gave you that title shot for free, sunshine. Now I’ve eliminated the current competition and given you the chance to do the right thing; give me the rematch I deserve.”

 

“He only speaks the truth,” Riley says to his commentary partner.

 

“A twisted version of it, perhaps,” Comet replies darkly.

 

‘JOHNNY DANGEROUS!’

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“And now the World Champion is here!” Comet cries in delight as ‘After The Flesh’ starts to pump out of the speakers. “We’ll soon see what Agent Dangerous has to say about this!”

 

Johnny strides out onto the entrance stage with his trenchcoat flying behind him. The Barracuda is backlit by the strobes, but he has no time for posing or playing to the fans tonight. Instead he marches down the ramp, already raising a microphone to his lips.

 

“Toxxic, that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days,” Dangerous tells the Straight-Edge Sensation as he gets to the ring. “In fact, it already has!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“JOHN-EE! JOHN-EE! JOHN-EE!”

 

The leader of Revolution Zero looks unimpressed with Johnny’s words, but the World Champion strips his trenchcoat off and unclips the SWF World Heavyweight Title from around his waist to hold it up in front of Toxxic’s face.

 

“See this? This says I am the best wrestler in this federation. I am your World Champion, dammit, and I am not going to put up with anymore of your superior bullshit!”

 

“You lost to Landon,” is Toxxic’s simple response.

 

“Have you beaten Landon?”

 

“I haven’t faced Landon. I was busy competing against main event talent.”

 

Johnny cracks a brief smile at that - his recent altercations with La Cucuracha haven’t left him kindly disposed to the man from Huron - but he quickly regains his purpose.

 

“Like it or not Toxxic, I beat you,” he tells the Straight-Edge Sensation, jabbing a finger at him, “and I want to know what in the hell makes you think that you deserve a rematch after all the garbage you talked beforehand.”

 

“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” Toxxic smirks. “I knew you wouldn’t do the right thing and put the belt on the line against the man who gave you a free handout. Just like I couldn’t trust you in Hell In a Cell.” The smile disappears suddenly, and it’s Toxxic’s turn to jab a finger into Johnny’s chest. “Just like Wildchild couldn’t trust you when you were Wild & Dangerous. He carried you to those tag belts, but he couldn’t trust you to save him from Janus’ Hell Crush. He couldn’t trust you to save him from me, when I made him submit to win the ICTV Title back in the Tag Match From Hell. And he couldn’t trust you to save him when Mike Van Siclen broke his shoulder.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Yeah, come on, boo your arses off!” Toxxic yells at the Detroit crowd. “That’s the guy you were cheering on Monday when Revolution Zero was whipping his team all over the ring! Christ, you people have short memories.” He turns his attention back to the seething Johnny Dangerous.

 

“Johnny, I can’t trust you, these people can’t trust you, and Wildchild couldn’t trust you. You’re a bloody disgrace, a fluke and an embarrassment to the title.” The crowd noise is rising in the Joe Louis Arena, but Toxxic ignores it. “So if you’re going to chicken out and walk away in some desperate attempt to avoid losing your title, then please hurry up and do it because you’re wasting everyone’s time.”

 

“Toxxic, have you ever heard the phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’?” Johnny asks the straight-edger. “But I know what you’re up to; you’re trying to make me angry so I’ll say you can have a rematch for this belt at Genesis. Well, I’ve got news for you - it’s not going to happen.”

 

“He’s a coward!” Riley shouts as the Joe Louis Arena starts to buzz in surprise. “He’s scared to face Toxxic again!”

 

“It’s not going to happen…” Johnny continues “…because I don’t need to be angry to give you a title shot, Toxxic! I beat you for this belt fair and square, in the middle of the ring! I know that you’re a good competitor, but don’t flatter yourself into thinking that I have any worries about facing you again with the title on the line!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“JOHN-EE! JOHN-EE! JOHN-EE!”

 

“Then you’re saying that it’s me and you at Genesis?” Toxxic queries, his brow raised. “Johnny Dangerous versus Toxxic; the Barracuda versus the Straight-Edge Sensation for the World Heavyweight Title?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Johnny replies levelly, “and once we’re there I’ll do what you couldn’t do - defend the title twice in a row.” The Barracuda smiles at Toxxic, convinced that he’s scored a point, but Toxxic is having none of it.

 

“Well, I’ve got news for you sunshine,” the Straight-Edge Sensation fires back. “No world champion has successfully defended the belt on Pay-Per-View since Genesis IV. So the odds are in my favour - as if I needed any help.”

 

“But guess what?” Johnny retorts. “It’s Genesis again, the biggest show of the year! Lightning can… and will strike twice, because at Genesis I will prove to you once again that I am for real and I… am better… than you!”

 

“Johnny, the last person to retain that belt on Pay-Per-View was Tom Flesher,” Toxxic tells the Barracuda, “and you are no Tom Flesher. And even if you were, I beat Tom Flesher!”

 

“And I beat you to win the title,” Johnny says calmly. “Did you have a point?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got a point,” Toxxic tells the man from Las Vegas. “…prepare to be proved wrong!”

 

*CRAAACK!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“The villain!” Comet shouts in outrage. “Toxxic just super kicked Johnny Dangerous! What a sucker-punch from that despicable scoundrel!”

 

“It was a super kick, not a sucker-punch,” Riley admonishes his broadcast partner as Toxxic leaves the ring smirking while he walks up the entrance ramp, “and it’s no different to what Johnny Dangerous did to Toxxic a few weeks ago when the roles were reversed!”

 

“Robert, sometimes I despair of you-”

 

“-only sometimes?”

 

“-but nonetheless Citizens, we must continue with the broadcast,” Comet carries on as Johnny sits up in the ring, rubbing his jaw and staring after the departed Straight-Edger with venom. “It sounds like it’s official that Toxxic and Johnny Dangerous will be competing for the World Title at Genesis V, but we have an amazing card this evening as well and it will begin right after this commercial break!”

 

FADE OUT

[Thoth 0]

“A storm has descended upon the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit tonight, folks! Welcome back to SWF STORM~!” shouts an enthusiastic Cyclone Comet, greeting the viewers at home.

 

“You’re absolutely right that a storm has touched down in D-town, Comet. We’ve got some major scores to be settled here tonight, starting with our opening contest!”

 

“For once, Bobbo, I’m in agreement. The feud between the two upstart stables of Revolution Zero and the Urban Empire has reached a fever pitch. After a defeat at the hands of their foes in a six man tag earlier in the week, the members of Hollywood Boulevard are looking to turn the tide back to their stables favor, albeit in singles matches tonight. We’re gonna kick things off with one of those matches RIGHT NOW, so take it away FUNYON~!”

 

*DING*DING*DING*

 

FUNYON

LAAAAADIEEEEES AND GENNNTLLLLMENNNN…THIS is the opening contest here on SWF STOOOOOOORRRRRRMMMMM~!

 

The Motor City crowd roars in approval, and then even louder as the Spanish horns boom through the speaker boxes, signifying the entrance of an SWF crowd favorite.

 

I fetch my brazos hardcore down from the click-hi

 

Who's that emanatin' funk through the speaker?

 

Bass gets to pumpin' rucka's get to pumpin'

 

Who's that rap king got the party start jumpin'?

 

With “Tres Delinquentes” pulsing over the sound system, Todd Cortez steps out onto the ramp, drawing a loud pop from the fans welcoming him to Michigan! Cortez stands tall, his World Tag Team Title belt wrapped around his waist as he throws up the X…and then gets nailed from behind by Spike Jenkins, who jumps him at the entranceway!

 

“Seems like Revolution Zero is trying to get a jump on things tonight, no pun intended!”

 

Cortez rolls into the aisleway, but is pounced on as he gets to his feet by Jenkins. Spike leads him towards the guardrail, holding his head with one hand and the waistband of his pants with the other, and shoves him forward, ribs first into the railing!

 

“Spike Jenkins couldn’t wait to lock horns with his rival, and immediately targets the bruised ribs of Cortez, which haven’t had a chance to heal since their match-up the other night!”

 

“Sound strategy by Toxxic’s crew! They don’t have a former World Champion leading them for nothing!”

 

Referee Jefferson Harding dives out of the ring, rushing up the aisleway and ordering Jenkins to back off and get into the ring, while a befuddled Funyon retreats to his ringside seat, unable to introduce either competitor. Jenkins rolls into the ring and taunts the crowd, drawing catcalls from the Detroit contingent. Harding assists Cortez as he gets to his feet, and Cortez quickly unstraps the tag belt, shoves it into Harding’s arms, and rushes the ring, sliding in and coming up face to face with Jenkins! Spike fires off a right hand, but it’s easily blocked, and Cortez unloads with rights of his own! Jenkins is thrown off balance and falls into the ropes, and Cortez immediately takes his arm and uses it to propel him to the far side, leaping into the air as Spike returns towards him and landing on his shoulders before carrying him over with a snap huracanrana! Cortez springs up to his feet immediately, waiting for Jenkins to pick himself up off the canvas…but Spike takes the high road and slithers out to the floor!

 

“Well look at this! Seems like Citizen Jenkins isn’t too fond of face to face combat!”

 

“What do you mean, Comet? He’s taking a breather!”

 

“After sixty seconds of action?”

 

”What can I say, I’ve been telling him to increase his cardio workouts!”

 

The crowd boos Spike’s cowardice, but he just waves his hands at the audience to show he could care less. Harding begins the count, but Cortez doesn’t want to wait for Spike’s return, so he heads out to the floor to retrieve him! Jenkins sees Cortez coming and runs around the corner, leading the Urban Legend on a wild goose chase! Jenkins quickly rolls back into the ring and gets up, waiting on Cortez to follow him. Todd slides in, and Jenkins approaches, figuring he’s suckered Cortez in…but he gets shot to the canvas with a double leg takedown from an expectant Cortez! Todd stands up, holding onto Spike’s right leg, and then starts kicking the back of his knee repeatedly, drawing cries of pain out of the Revolution Zero member!

 

“He’s stomping on that knee like he’s putting out a fire, Comet!”

 

“It would appear Citizen Jenkins isn’t the only one who is looking to exploit a nagging injury. We know Spike’s had knee trouble in the past, and it would seem he’s about to have more of it tonight!”

 

Cortez backs up, and Spike sits up, favoring his leg, which distracts him from the basement dropkick that Cortez delivers to his chin, knocking Spike onto his back! Jenkins rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself up, getting an assist from Cortez, who then holds his right hand up, palm out…

 

SMACK!

 

…and brings it down across Spike’s chest! Jenkins starts to move away from Cortez, but Todd turns him to face him again, pushing his arms to his side to expose his chest…

 

SMACK!

 

…and connects with another open hand chop! Spike again tries to inch away from Cortez, but Todd shoots low and grabs Spike’s right ankle, pulling his right leg up and causing him to hop on one foot. Spike begs off, seeing as he’s got no place to go, and in desperation leaps up, swinging his left foot over with an enzugiri kick…but Cortez ducks! Spike crashes to the canvas, and Cortez immediately drops to his knees, trying to use them to pin Spike’s shoulders down to keep him still, drawing a pop from the fans who recognize this from Cortez’s match with Landon Maddix recently!

 

“Citizen Cortez is trying to hook Spike in that same submission that brought him a victory over Maddix!”

 

“That submission? That’s the best he could come up with for a name?”

 

“Actually, I believe he’s taken to calling it The Hook-Up.”

 

Cortez reaches back, trying to pull up Spike’s right leg, but Jenkins quickly crawls away, heading for the ropes and clutching onto them for dear life so that no holds can be applied. Todd approaches, itching to make Spike squeal, but Harding blocks his path, warning him that he needs to back up while Jenkins is in the ropes. Cortez puts his hands up in surrender, following along with the official’s instructions…then gets his face raked by Jenkins, who uses the distraction to his advantage!

 

“Sheer brilliance! Harding played the unwilling accomplice, and now Spike Jenkins can take control!” Robert Riley proudly states.

 

Cortez winces, and puts his hands over his face, seething after the cheap shot. Harding warns Jenkins of his infraction, but Spike continues to focus on Cortez, walking him over to the corner and driving him face first into the top turnbuckle. Spike spins Cortez around, keeping him backed up in the corner, and then starts ramming his shoulder into Todd’s ribs, continuing the assault that Revolution Zero began on the same body part nights ago! Cortez huffs after every shot, the air being driven out of his body as Jenkins carries out the attack. With the Urban Legend gasping for air, Spike takes him by the head and applies a facelock, hesitating for a moment to look out to the crowd and scowl at the fans rooting on Cortez, then lifts him suplex style, only to drop him stomach first across the top rope!

 

“He hung him out to dry!”

 

Cortez dangles on the top rope, finally shifting his weight so that his feet rest on the apron. He clutches the top rope to keep from falling to the floor below, and doesn’t see Spike approaching. Jenkins reaches over and tries to pull him in, but Cortez ducks and shoots a shoulderblock through the ropes, causing Spike to double over. Cortez slingshots in over his back, rolling him over with a sunset flip…but Spike reaches out, snags the top rope and prevents himself from going over before he jumps into the air and comes down onto Cortez with a vertical splash!

 

“That’s what you call seizing the moment, Comet! Cortez tried to turn the tide, but Spike found that weakness of his again and exploited it for all it’s worth!”

 

Cortez pushes his knees up to his stomach, holding his ribs and slowly tries to push himself up. Jenkins comes over and hooks his arms around Todd’s waist as he’s still doubled over, pulling him up with a gutwrench lift before dropping him forward, ribs first, onto his knee! Cortez falls off of Jenkins’ knee, and Spike probably wishes he didn’t do that, as when he stands there is a noticeable limp in his step, as he just brought the weight of Cortez down onto the same knee that Cortez had his sights on earlier in the match! Jenkins hobbles over to Cortez and lifts him up by the head…but Cortez shoots for Spike’s right leg, tugging him down onto the canvas and quickly wrapping his own legs around it! Spike squirms, but Cortez keeps the leg grapevined and pulls back on it, snaring Spike in a single leg lock! Jenkins flails his arms like a wounded bird flapping its wings, desperately trying to get his hand on a rope. Cortez keeps a firm grip on the former Cruiserweight champion, but Jenkins doesn’t give up his struggle, seeing that the bottom rope is just inches away from his reach!

 

“Cortez again targets the knee with a submission, keeping Spike out of the air, and most importantly, away from his ribs!”

 

“Spike tried to steal Todd’s food?”

 

“Jeez, Bobbo…his RIBS! As in the bones in his body!”

 

“Oh…well you never know. I thought you were talking about a food fight that got personal. Specify, Comet, specify!”

 

Harding watches on as Jenkins grunts in pain, stretching his arms out to a full straight position. He reaches and reaches, his body inching slowly across the canvas…and finally Spike Jenkins finds relief as he snags the bottom rope, forcing Harding to tell Cortez to break the hold! Cortez lets go and backs away, standing across the ring as Spike is given the space to get to his feet. Jenkins braces himself against the ropes and massages his knee, telling a concerned Harding that he’s fine. Angered, Jenkins turns and starts limping into center ring, nodding his head to Cortez and telling him to bring it on. Cortez and Jenkins circle each other, and Todd fakes him out as he motions for the leg but then brings himself back to a fighting stance. Todd moves in again, but this time the two lock up, with Spike overpowering Cortez and clutching him in a side headlock. Cortez tries to wriggle free, eventually slipping out from under Spike’s arm and coming up behind him, then makes a play for the right leg!

 

“Todd Cortez knows that going for that knee is the key to victory!”

 

“So does that make him the Tonya Harding of the SWF?”

 

 

He pulls it back, causing Spike to hop on one foot, but the quick thinking Jenkins jumps back and drives his left foot into Todd’s midsection with a mule kick! Cortez staggers back, but gathers himself quickly and moves forward, grabbing Spike by the back of the head, only to catch several elbows to his bread basket! Cortez huffs as each shot is driven into his ribs, and is then backed into the ropes, as Jenkins Irish whips him across the ring. Spike ducks for the rebound, allowing Cortez to leapfrog over him…but then Cortez leapfrogs back over him, landing in front of Spike with his back to him! Jenkins comes back up to a normal standing position, perplexed…then catches the instep of Cortez’s foot across his face, as Todd jumps backwards, swinging his right leg up and rocking Spike with a reverse enzugiri kick! Jenkins, unable to keep his balance after being knocked silly, falls back into the ropes, the momentum of which pushes him back to a vertical base…AND RIGHT INTO A SUPERKICK FROM TODD CORTEZ! COVER!

 

“Amazing! That was some of that Crouching Dragon, Hidden Treasure type of stuff!”

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

SHOULDER UP!

 

The crowd sighs, as the crack of the superkick on Spike’s chin sounded like a sure knockout blow. Cortez rolls off of him, coming to his feet at the feet of Jenkins, and he reaches down, again looking to damage the right knee of Jenkins. Feeling Todd pawing at his leg, Jenkins is somewhat revived, and responds by kicking his legs at Cortez, not allowing him to trap them in his grasp. Cortez is kicked away, backed into the ropes, while Jenkins swings his legs around so that he’s on his knees, and charges up at Cortez, wrapping him in a waistlock before spinning around and dropping him throat first on the top rope! Todd whiplashes back to the canvas, while Jenkins falls to a seated position, still favoring that knee but now having bought himself some time!

 

“The desperation move pays off, but you have to wonder for how long, since the weakened knee of Jenkins takes an awful lot of offense away from him.”

 

“Don’t you worry, Comet. The Revolution always finds a way.”

 

“Well if they find their way down here, Citizen Cortez will be the one walking away with the W, so I say bring them on!”

 

Cortez rests on all fours, coughing and gagging after having the thick strand of rope driven into his windpipe. Jenkins hobbles over to him, standing over Cortez before reaching down and putting a hand under his chin, wrenching his head up. Cortez groans, still trying to catch his breath, but the only thing he catches is a forearm across the side of his face! Cortez drops his head, but Spike lifts it up, and again drives his forearm across Todd’s face!

 

“He’s decimating him with these crossface shots!”

 

Cortez tries to crawl away, out from under Spike’s legs, but Jenkins reaches down and brings him to his feet the hard way, leading him up by the back of the head. Spike sets up for a Russian legsweep, but Cortez quickly fires back an elbow to break! Todd turns around to go face to face with Spike, but Jenkins still has a good presence of mind and drops to one knee before stunning Cortez with a low blow! Cortez falls to his knees, and Harding berates Jenkins for the low-brow tactic, telling him that anything further will cost him this contest. Jenkins doesn’t bother with a response, instead keeping his focus on Cortez as he braces himself in a fighting stance…

 

CRACK!

 

…and delivers a hard roundhouse kick to Cortez’s chest! Cortez falls over, catching himself with one hand, but Jenkins reaches down and shoves him back up. Shaking the effects his own kick had on his knee, Jenkins winds up again…

 

CRACK!

 

…and drives the instep of his foot into Todd’s sternum once again! The force behind the kick lingers, however, and Spike hobbles near the ropes, wincing in pain. Agitated that he can’t comfortably execute one of his signature maneuvers, Spike retrieves Cortez from the canvas and drags him up, sticking him in the corner and then climbing up to the second rope. Looking down into the eyes of his rival, Spike raises a hand to him, and starts delivering hard slaps across Cortez’s face in taunting fashion!

 

“I don’t think this is the time for Spike’s ego to be taking over!”

 

Jenkins backs down slowly, stepping down to the canvas as his foe reels in the corner. Jenkins leads him out by the arm and sends him to the far corner, watching with glee as Cortez rams hard into the turnbuckles and then slumps in the corner. Spike gears himself up, running in place before barging out of the corner, his teeth grinding together as he contains the pain he feels in his knee as he goes for the TIDAL WAVE~!…

 

…but his knee buckles after the handspring!

 

“Spike took a gamble, and crapped out!”

 

“Newsflash, Comet. Cortez isn’t in a casino brawl tonight. No need for wit! A man’s knee is hurt!’

 

Jenkins falls to one knee immediately, drawing Harding over to check on him. Spike assure the referee that he’s willing to continue, but the brief conversation has given Todd Cortez time to recover. The fans that flocked to the Joe Louis Arena tonight are rabid with glee as Cortez hops up onto the second rope, anticipating his opponents next move. Spike gets up and turns around, but has no time to react as Cortez comes off the second rope, hooking Spike in a front facelock as he comes down to the canvas with a DD…

 

…NO! SPIKE JENKINS COUNTERS WITH AN INVERTED ATOMIC DROP AS CORTEZ LANDS~!

 

Jenkins nearly falls backwards, another move countered although it did his knee no favors. Cortez is doubled over, and Jenkins shuffles towards him and reaches up, applying a ¾ front facelock and…NO! Cortez deflects the Bad Beat attempt, shoving Jenkins away…then surprises him with an STO out of nowhere! Both men lay on the mat, wounded and exhausted, while Harding stands back, waiting for their next move…which is a pin attempt by Cortez! A leg is hooked, and Harding makes the count…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR…NO! KICKOUT BY JENKINS!

 

The crowd groans at the two count, hoping that the disliked Jenkins was down for good. Cortez continues on, emotionless as it pertains to the near fall, and drags Spike away from the ropes by his leg. Cortez reaches down, again attempting a submission, but the weary Spike reaches up and pulls Cortez down, cradling him with a small package!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

KICKOUT!

 

A sigh of relief falls over the Motor City faithful, as Cortez breaks free of the pin attempt. Jenkins tries to bring himself up first, but can’t do so without the help of his opponent, who takes him by the back of the head and walks him over to the turnbuckles. He sends Spike’s head crashing into the top turnbuckle, but Spike lifts his leg up onto the middle one, putting the brakes on…and Cortez responds by kicking the back of the exposed leg, garnering him a huge pop!

 

“It seems the less Spike tries to use that leg, the more Cortez has been able to attack it. Find a weakness and exploit it. It’s the art of war.”

 

“They don’t pay you to philosophize, Comet. They pay you to commentate wrestling matches.”

 

“They also don’t pay me to hear about your wild nights in the red light district of whatever city we may be in, but I have to do that too, don’t I?”

 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it. You could learn something from a guy like me.”

 

“Robert, what I HAVE learned from you scares me. Let’s focus on the match at hand, OK?”

 

Spike limps away, moving across the ring and away from Cortez. Todd stalks him like a game hunter does to its prey, following him around the ring and forcing Spike to hide behind referee Harding! Our friend Jefferson tries to pull himself away, but Jenkins tugs on his striped shirt, using him as a human shield as Cortez tries to get at him. Cortez inches closer, and Jenkins swats his hand over Harding’s shoulder…but has his wrist caught by Todd Cortez! Harding is now stuck in the middle of the two warriors, and as Jenkins brings his other hand around to try to free himself, Cortez clutches that too. The three men dance around the ring in a rather odd looking position as they’re sandwiched together, until Cortez yells “Duck!” to Harding. The referee drops to his knees, and Cortez, still holding Jenkins by the wrist, leaps high into the air, plants his feet into Spike’s sternum, and takes him over with a monkey flip, freeing Harding from the akward situation!

 

“That was…interesting.”

 

“It was more than interesting. I’d go so far as to say it was…”

 

“Keep it to yourself, Riley.”

 

Harding dusts himself off, and the crowd applauds wildly, finding humor in Spike’s cowardice. Hollywood sits up and shakes the cobwebs off, but again finds himself pried away from his rest period by Cortez, who holds him by the arm. Jenkins is backed into the ropes, and Cortez sends him in…reversal…reversed again, and Jenkins takes the whip to the ropes as originally intended! He rebounds, and Cortez leaps up, snapping him over with a hura…COUNTERED WITH A SITOUT POWERBOMB BY JENKINS~! Harding slides to the canvas like a runner stealing home, and makes the count!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE…KICKOUT!

 

Jenkins is frustrated, but rolls to his feet, hoping that this will keep Cortez at bay. Todd tries to get up, but doesn’t do it without a little help from his friend Spike, who follows up with a pair of European uppercuts that send him staggering back into the corner! Jenkins piefaces Cortez, then backs up and goes to drive his shoulder into the Latin American’s bruised ribs…but Cortez pushes himself up onto the ropes and carries himself over Spike’s back, pulling him down with a sunset flip…NO! Spike rolls through to his feet, and comes at Cortez with a roundhouse kick…CAUGHT! Spike begs off as Cortez gets to his feet, holding Spike’s right leg…and he drops it!?

 

THEN SPIKE GETS HIS THROAT SNATCHED BY THE URBAN LEGEND!

 

“Urban Assault coming up!”

 

The crowd roars, as Cortez readies to lift Spike up for his patented mauever…but Jenkins nervously elbows at Cortez, trying to counter! He manages to drive Cortez away, and then comes at him with an STO…but Cortez tries for the same move! Both men stand firm, their legs interwined with one another’s as they each try to force the other down onto their back…until Spike spins off to the side, and wraps his arm up around Todd’s head…BAD BEAT…NO! Spike gets shoved into the ropes…AND PLANTED WITH A SITOUT SPINEBUSTER ON THE REBOUND~!

 

“Citizen Jenkins got planted like seedlings on Earth Day!”

 

Cortez rolls to his feet, his eyes gleaming with determination to end this NOW. He rolls Jenkins onto his back, and drags his fallen carcass into the center of the ring before kneeling down, driving his knees down into Jenkins’ shoulder blades. Spike squirms, but is too weakened to fight, as Cortez reaches back, pulls the right leg up, and bends it over his shoulder!

 

“The Hook-Up! This is what we were talking about! The move that got Cortez that big win over Landon Maddix!”

 

Spike bellows out a painful cry, but the fans couldn’t be happier watching him trapped like this! Harding watches on as Cortez pulls down on the leg, causing ligaments to stretch and tear within Spike’s right leg. Jenkins struggles, but the more he fights it, the more Cortez applies more pressure.

 

“Jenkins is in a bad way, and Toxxic and his crew can only sit in the back and watch!”

 

“Well, that’s no thanks to the unfair stipulation that Spike must deal with!”

 

“Unfair? It applies to Citizen Cortez too!”

 

“That’s besides the point!”

 

Harding watches on, asking Jenkins every so often if he’s ready to give. The crowd sits wide-eyed, anticipating Jenkins to surrender at any second, as no one can help him and there is no way out. Cortez pulls down hard on the leg, any further and he’ll snap it in two…and when Harding asks again, Spike nods his head rapidly, almost begging him to ring the bell!

 

*DING*DING*DING*

 

“Chalk one up for the Empire! Cortez walks out of here with a victory, while Spike…well I don’t think he’ll be walking out of here!”

 

”Oh very funny. Who are you, Dave Chappelle?”

 

“Tres Delinquentes” kicks up as Cortez gets to his feet and has his hand raised by Jefferson Harding. Spike rolls onto his back, holding his knee in agony, a defeated man.

 

FUNYON

LAAAAAAAAAAAAAADIEEEEEEEEEEESSS AND GENNNNTLLLLMENNNNN, YOUR WINNER…TODDDDDDDDDDD CORRRRRRRRRTEZZZZZZZZZZZZ~!

 

The crowd shows their happiness for Cortez as he climbs up onto the second rope, raising his hands up in salute to the supporters of the Urban Empire, then steps down. He eyes Jenkins, giving him a smug smirk as he watches him wallow in pain on the canvas. Cortez ducks out of the ring and swipes his tag belt from the timekeeper’s table, slapping a few hands on his way around the ring and to the aisleway. He turns, taking one look back at Jenkins, and smiles to himself before turning and heading up the ramp.

 

“Part one of the two match saga between the Urban Empire and Revolution Zero ends on a high note for the Todd Cortez and the Urban Empire. We’re back with the second chapter in tonight’s edition of their rivalry, as Mike Van Siclen does battle with Sean Davis when Storm returns!”

[Thoth 0]

As we come back to SWF Storm, the camera fades into the backstage of the Joe. Various boxes of equipment and large cable cords run along the floor as the camera stays in place, filming the empty spot.

 

“So, do you have a guy?” the easily recognizable voice of the Suicide King is heard, and the camera quickly pans to the left, showing the length of the hallway, in which King and William Hearford are conversing.

 

The crowd pops HUGE at the hometown boy, and especially now that he’s a face. It’d probably bring a smile to the old man’s face if he could hear it; sadly, though, his visage is straining to keep in a scowl as he faces down King. It’s obvious that he’s still very angry after the executive decision last week.

 

“Yes, yes I do,” he responds with strained politeness, “His name is Markel. Brian Markel. He’s got a lot of talent and I’m sure he’ll be much better than Justin was.”

 

King looks around for a moment confused. “Well, where is he?”

 

“He’s coming in from out of state, actually. He couldn’t make it on such short notice, but I assure you he’ll be here at the next show.”

 

“Judge… Judge…” King starts, shaking his head, “You know, I wanted you to actually bring a guy out here. I mean, seriously, if I can’t see this guy, you’re wasting my time.”

 

“But I swear he’ll be here next show! He’s in Kentucky right now and…” and at that point, Judge just gives up: He knows King well enough that he won’t cut people any slack. The crowd boos vigorously, and it looks like Judge’s very brief second tenure is about to end just as suddenly as it started.

 

“But… you were probably one the most loyal guys I had when I was commissioner. I swear, if you hadn’t been in fighting Tom at Genesis, you’d have been fighting for me instead of that failure, Craven. So I’ll let you go, but he’d better not be as injury prone as that last flunkie of yours.”

 

With that, King walks off down the hallways, with Hearford still sweating bullets after dodging a big one as we…

 

*FADE TO BLACK*

[Thoth 0]

The next match was cancelled because I WAS PLAYING WORLD OF WARCRAFT BIZMODATCHES

[Thoth 0]

"... so then he says," chimes in the voice of Robert Riley, "now I know why they call them skittles!"

 

"That's terrible, Robert.  I don't think I've ever been this offended by a joke in my life!" Squeals Cyclone Comet.

 

"How about that one I told you about the" Riley is suddenly cut off by the overly enthusiastic Comet, who has realized that they are back on the air!

 

"Welcome back to SWF Storm, citizens!" Booms the voice of Cyclone Comet.  "We're approaching the halfway point of another great show with two matches already in the books and five more to look ahead to!  We've already watched members of the Urban Empire take on members of Revolution Zero in singles action, and they've got quite the heated rivalry forming, eh Riley?"

 

"Rivalry?  I'd classify it as more of a slaughter!"  Riley shoots back.

 

"I think the teams have been pretty evenly matched so far, but let me guess.  You think Toxxic's Revolution Zero has been dominating the team of Mike Van Siclen, Todd Cortez, and The Masked Man?" 

 

"I never said that!  Oh!  It's a shoot!" Riley yells out, "Oh!  Oh!"

 

"Shush Robert, show some professionalism for once!"  Comet quiets his partner, "moving right along, our next match features Andrea Montgomery making a return appearance of sorts after being curiously absent for a few shows against Austin Sly, who has been on a losing streak of sorts ever since he lost his Cruiserweight title."

 

"A losing streak of epic proportions is more like it, winning only one of his last five matches!  He's not only losing in the ring though; he's losing in life too.  In fact, I have no interest in this match at all except for watching Andrea and Austin kick the crap out of each other, and they probably wont be able to even do that right!"

 

"You shouldn't be so hard on them.  It's not like you were always a stud in the ring."  Comet tries to bust down his partner's ego.

 

"Heh... you said hard-on." Riley responds.

 

"Ugh... Riley.  Try and show a bit of maturity."

 

"As if you're one to talk about maturity mister, every show you come out here and..."

 

BOOM!

 

Without warning, an explosion of green pyros around the entrance stage causing the fans in the arena to start a frenzied cheer as they climb to their feet!  The lights in the arena quickly change to green bathing the entire arena in the color.  No Doubt's "Just a Girl" begins to play as Andrea Montgomery walks out from behind the curtain.  She salutes her fans as Funyon makes the announcement.

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a singles match and is scheduled for one fall!  Making her way to the ring first from Biloxi, Mississippi, weighing in at one hundred and forty-three pounds, Andrea Montgomery!!"

 

Andrea steps through a shower of greens sparks and begins her walk down the ramp towards the ring.  She walks from one side of the ramp to the other slapping hands with all of her adoring fans that reach out towards her.  One woman with a seat close to ringside calls out to Andrea and asks for a picture.  Andrea cheerfully obliges until the woman picks up the baby that she has brought with her to the show and half-heartedly hands it to Andrea.  She bobbles the kid a few times as the mother quickly snaps a picture of this baby juggling event.  Andrea smiles and hands the little bundle of joy back to its mother before proceeding to the ring.  She jumps onto the ring apron and then uses the ropes to launch herself into the ring.

 

"What a great representative of our sport!  Citizen Montgomery is the type of person I wouldn't mind the children of the world looking up to." Comet gleefully announces.

 

"She almost dropped that baby!  We could've had a lawsuit on our hands thanks to her!  Now as I was saying before," Riley, always the downer, says before being interrupted again.

 

The lights in the arena fade to a dark, cooling shade of blue while a acoustic guitar playing a hard-driving riff floats out into the air of the arena.  The fans stay on their feet and give Austin Sly a slightly mixed reaction as he steps out onto the stage from the back of the arena.  The house lights begin to swirl while Austin does his pre-match stretches at the edge of the stage.  Funyon announces his arrival.

 

"Making his way to the ring from St. Louis, Missouri weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds, Austin Sly!!"

 

Austin slaps hands with a few fans as he makes his way down the ramp.  Once at ringside, he jumps up onto the ring apron and hooks his arm across the top rope.  He looks out over the crowd, scanning above the crowd in an effort not to break his concentration for the match at hand.  He shoots his head back around as he enters between the middle ropes.  Austin quickly charges towards Andrea, but extends his hand in a show of sportsmanship simply wanting a pre-match handshake.  Andrea gratefully accepts, and the fans give a nice little cheer for the show of decency.

 

"What a bunch of crap this is!  If you're not going to fight, then get out of the ring and let someone else entertain me!"  Riley complains.  "Now as I was saying..."

 

"I think it's great to show a little sportsmanship and equal respect Bobbo!  This is the kind of thing that we need more of in our sport!"  Comet interrupts.

 

"Would you let me finish what I wa"

 

"This is sure to be a fast paced match too, with two of the quickest competitors in the SWF inside of the ring."  Comet interrupts again.

 

"Damnit!  I give up!  You can announce this one by yourself, masked blunder!"

 

"Exxxcellent."  Comet murmurs.

 

Funyon slides out of the ring as referee-in-training David Blazenwing casually explains the match rules to both Andrea Montgomery and Austin Sly.  The two are very attentive to the stripe-less referee, as they both secretly mumble to each other.  Discouraged, Blazenwing calls for the bell to start the match.

 

Ding ding ding!!!

 

Both Andrea and Austin stand in the middle of the ring, and just smirk at Blazenwing who seems somewhat uncomfortable refereeing his first match.  David encourages them both to lock up, but they have other plans as Andrea grabs Austin by the hand and whips him across the ring.  Sly bounces casually off the ropes and comes charging back...

 

 

 

... at Blazenwing.

 

Wham!

 

David goes down in a heap after the "accidental" encounter with the brunt force of Austin's weight.  A slight chuckle comes from the audience, as Andrea and Austin share a high five. 

 

"That wasn't very sportsman-like of them, was it Comet?" hisses Riley.

 

"I thought you were going to stay shut-up, Riley," fires back Comet.

 

The duo quickly get down to business though as they lock up.  Andrea, obviously out-sized and over-powered, panics slightly and kicks Austin's legs out from under him with a Russian Leg Sweep in order to break the hold.  Sly quickly rolls over to climb back up to his feet, but Andrea locks onto him from behind with a face lock trying to keep the bigger man down.  Austin just powers out of the hold though, flipping Andrea over his back and in front of him while he climbs to his feet.  Montgomery lands on her feet and quickly gathers back her balance enough to send a spinning heel kick soaring towards Austin's face, but the former Cruiserweight Champion is quick enough to duck under it.  With a clear shot at Andrea's back, Austin decides against going for a big move and instead just shoves Andrea away towards the ropes.  The lightning quick Montgomery jumps onto the middle board and springboards back at Austin with a moonsault, only to find no one home.  The ever agile Andrea lands squarely on her feet though, only to be dragged down to the mat with an armbar from Austin.  Andrea just rolls through the hold though, breaking it quickly.  Both competitors climb back to their feet, breathing a little heavier than they were only a few moments ago.  The fans in the arena climb back to their feet and reward the two of them with another ovation for the effort they've already put into the match.

 

"Both citizens seem fairly evenly matched so far, and the fans love it!"  Announces the exuberant Comet.  "What do you think Riley?"

 

"..."

 

"Good to hear!" Comet says with a smile.

 

Both Andrea and Austin look around the arena, absorbing the cheers from the fans before turning their attention back to one another.  With no other way to settle this deadlocked match, both competitors stick out their fists.

 

One, two, three, shoot!

 

Andrea puts her hand out flat while Austin keeps his hand in a fist.  They're playing paper-rock-scissors, and it would appear that Andrea has won the first match!  Austin looks a little frustrated, but quickly puts his fist back out in front of him.  Andrea follows suit quickly.

 

One, two, three, shoot!

 

Once again Andrea shoots her hand out flat again, but this time Austin puts his hand out flat also drawing a tie in the second match!

 

"What are they doing?!  This is supposed to be a wrestling match!  They're playing paper-rock-scissors in the middle of an SWF ring!" yells a disgusted Riley.  "The fans didn't come to see this shit, they came to see two people beat the hell out of each other!"

 

"They seem to be enjoying it just fine to me, Riley!" Comet notes.  "Not only that, but the two citizens in the ring seem to be enjoying themselves as well!"

 

"No one cares if the wrestlers enjoy it!  They're being paid to put on a show, not to make a mockery of this federation!"

 

Austin and Andrea both stick their fists out again preparing for the third and final match.  A hushed awe fills the arena as the two competitors lock stares.  A single drop of sweat rolls down from Austin's forehead before barreling down his cheek and eventually down to the canvas bellow.

 

One, two, three, shoot!

 

Scissors cut paper.  Andrea defeats Austin in paper-rock-scissors and, accordingly so, gets to pin Austin to the mat.  Sly lays on his mat and allows Montgomery to pin him, but somehow through all this time, Blazenwing is still down and out on the mat.  Andrea climbs back off of Austin to go check on the fallen referee, while Austin pretends to pull a cigarette from his boot and promptly light it while still relaxing back on the mat.  He feigns smoking for a few seconds before climbing back to his and flicking the fake cigarette free from the ring.

 

"Austin was just going to lay down for Andrea because she beat him in a child's game?  I'm not only disappointed, but also disgusted by this display!" Riley spews with hate, "after this match, I hope that Zenon has a word with both competitors as to what is acceptable behavior inside the ring!"

 

"Lighten up!  Try and enjoy something besides yourself for once, Riley."

 

"Was that a masturbation joke, Comet?"

 

"Woah woah woah!  I never said such a thing!"  Comet pauses, "guilty conscience?"

 

Austin casually taps Andrea on the shoulder drawing her attention away from Blazenwing, who has finally began to regain his bearing, and back to the match at hand.  As she turns around, Andrea quickly ducks under a wild punch thrown by Austin before delivering a quick kick into his side!  Andrea reels back and sends another spinning heel kick flying at Austin's face, only to have him duck out of the way again.  She does make solid contact with the side of Blazenwing's head, since he was standing right behind Austin at the time!  Spit flies out of the side of his mouth before he drops like a rock back to the canvas.  Andrea looks at Blazenwing for a second, but she's literally pulled back into the match when Austin irish whips her across the ring.  Instead of bouncing off the ropes, she quickly slides out of the ring beneath the bottom rope!  Austin charges over and also slides out of the ring, but Andrea re-enters at the same time.  Sly looks around confused on the outside of the ring, while Andrea stands beside the ropes inside the ring.  Once she's recaptured Austin's attention, Montgomery quickly sends her body flying over the top rope with a bodypress towards Austin!

 

"He caught her!  He caught Citizen Montgomery out of the air!"  Comet yells out.

 

"He caught her?  How can that be?  Austin isn't big enough to catch someone like that!"  Riley says, shocked.

 

Austin has indeed caught Andrea, but not easily as he stumbles back with her in his arms!  He leans against the fan barrier with her in his arms as he attempts to lift her up into maybe a torture rack or some other sort of hold, no one really knows what he's doing here.  We don't get to wait around to see either, as Andrea fights her way out by pushing off of the fan barrier and using the momentum to swing Austin around in a Tornado DDT!  Austin bounces off the mat in a sickly manor, causing a few gasps from the crowd.  Andrea, for some reason, goes to search underneath the ring for something.

 

"What's she doing underneath there?  This isn't a hardcore match!  Did the Biloxi school system not teach her to read?" Riley complains.

 

"Maybe she's searching for a neck brace for Citizen Sly after the awful angle his neck just took against the unforgiving ground on the outside of the ring?"  Comet says, rather optimistic.

 

A neck brace, while being a good guess, is completely wrong.  Andrea instead pulls out a ladder and quickly sets it up right beside the ring.  It's a rather tall ladder, as it stretches up above the ring ropes by probably two or three feet.  Andrea doesn't get a chance to use it though as Austin recovers from his drop and rolls Andrea back into the ring.  Sly, however, jumps up onto the ring apron and then again onto the top of the ropes.  He springboards off and tries to level Andrea with a clothesline.  Andrea just ducks underneath it and instead drops Austin to the mat with a neckbreaker!  Sly grabs at his neck to try and protect it as it has obviously started hurting him.  Andrea takes off running for the other side of the ring, this time bouncing off of the ropes.  She handsprings into a Phoenix Splash, landing square on the chest of her opponent!  Andrea quickly covers her opponent, as Blazenwing crawls to their side to make the count.

 

One!

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

........

 

 

Kickout!  Austin gets himself off the mat just presumably before Blazenwing's hand should've hit the mat.  Of course, that's assuming that he was a good referee and that he hadn't taken such a beating.  But that's a couple of big assumptions, you know? 

 

"Citizen Montgomery almost had the match won there!"  Comet squeals.

 

"Yeah, how exciting."  Riley moans as he trims his fingernails.

 

Andrea quickly pulls Austin back up to his feet before firing him across the ring.  Austin bounces off the ropes and out of desperation tries to spear Andrea, but instead only connects with Blazenwing!  Andrea shares a good laugh with Austin before Austin turns and spears her, absolutely flattening Andrea and leaving her down on the mat without much sign of getting up anytime soon.  Austin stumbles a little, shaking a bit of the match's punishment free from his head as a small cheer comes up from the audience.  He looks around the arena, drawing in the attention from the fans, before spotting the ladder still standing outside of the ring.  A smile creeps across his face as he locks his sight on it.

 

"Oh no, what does he have planned here?" Riley ponders.  "There should be some way to remind these wrestlers of what exactly the rules of this match are!  Oh wait, thats what referees are for!"

 

"... and Citizen Blazenwing looks like he's slowly recovering from everything that's happened to him tonight.  Maybe he can regain control of this match after all!" Comet says with optimism.

 

Austin casually makes his way away from Andrea and out of the ring beside the ladder.  More cheers raise from the audience as Austin reaches the base of the ladder, then takes his first step onto it.  He slowly makes his climb to the top before standing on the top step and letting a slight wiggle out as he attempts to keep his balance.  He looks out over the crowd one last time as they've all climbed to their feet to cheer him on for his ability to throw safety to the wing.  He gathers his balance one last time before extending his body fully erect...

 

"Erect... heh." mumbles Riley.

 

... and launching himself off the ladder.  He twists backwards in air as he goes

 

all

 

the

 

way

 

down

 

to the mat below with a Shooting Star Press off the top of the ladder!  He lands directly on top of Andrea, causing the two to bounce off of the canvas under the force of the move.  A small "Ho-lee shit" chant rises from the audience, showing some support for the risk that the man just took.  Austin sits up and holds his ribs for a moment before falling back on top of Andrea for the cover.  Blazenwing slowly stumbles to his feet only to fall back down beside the duo to count the pin!

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three!

 

Ding ding ding!

 

Austin sits up and rubs his eyes in disbelief as Blazenwing raises his hand in victory.  The fans stand and cheer for a great match put forward by both competitors, but especially the man who has came out on top, Austin Sly!

 

"Citizen Sly has won!  He's broken his losing streak and finally chocked another one into the winning column!  After a horrible August, what a way to kick in September with a bang!"

 

"Shesh, Comet.  You act like this is some substantial victory.  He just beat Andrea Montgomery.  Not the most substantial victory in the world."  Riley tries to rain on everyone's parade.

 

"A victory is a victory, none-the-less, and I bet it means something to him no matter who it came over!  Andrea put up a great fight tonight, but it was just not meant to be!"  Comet puts a positive spin back on things.

 

Austin walks around the ring with his arms raised, absorbing his first victory in which the fans actually cheered for him instead of booing him out of the ring.  Andrea slowly rises to her feet, having been defeated, and promptly makes her way towards exiting the ring.  But she instead finds a hand on her shoulder from Austin Sly, who is trying to prevent her early exit.  Without hesitation, he grabs her hand and raises it in the air in a sign of respect and admiration for a match well done.  The two stand in the ring absorbing the cheers from the fans as Storm goes to commercial break.

[Thoth 0]

“Welcome back to Storm, loyal citizens, it is I, CYYYCCCLLLOONNNEEE COOOO-“

 

Before Comet can recite his trademark greeting, the arena is shaken to its very core by-

 

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

 

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

 

*BOOM!*

 

…Two tall bursts of pyro explode either side of him, before the Prodigy heads to the ring, waving to the fans graciously, but they don’t return the warm gesture, instead, mocking and booing the Canadian as walks down the ramp! It matters not to Lezaire who tries to slap hands with the fans, but no one takes him up on his offer, much to his dismay. He puts it behind him however, smiling into Steve’s camera, who follows in tow, sliding into the ring, as Funyon prepares his introductions.

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, the following match is a TRIPLE THREAT MATCH, and it is for the S W F United States Junior League Championship!”

 

The fans love the sounds of that, but detest the sight of Lezaire, pantomiming the belt being around his waist…

 

“Humph…” Grumbles Comet. “Such a rude, inconsiderate man! But anyway, welcome back folks, you’ve joined us just in time, as we prepare for what will be a fast, hard-hitting contest!”

 

“My prediction: Ace Crusher. Twenty two seconds in. New Champion.” Riley replies with a smirk, nodding his head as he watches Lezaire with pride.

 

“Introducing first,” continues Funyon, “from Vancouver, BC, Canada. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds… please welcome, the Sovereign of Swagger, the Ace of Spades… he is, ACE LEEEZZZAAAAIIIRRRREEEEE!”

 

They don’t have to feel so glum for long however as Crystal Method’s “Name of the Game” begins to pulse through the sound system, as a blistering-fast video package races across the SmarkTron. Images of Levy flying across, around, and out of the ring are interspersed with black-and-white footage of Levy leaning against a brick wall, one foot braced against it, strumming away on an electric guitar… which seems to drive the fans wild. That, or his long, hippy hair.

 

“His opponent, from… and undisclosed Maryland Suburb. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty three pounds… ladies and gentleman, he is the Poet… he is… BRYAN LEEEEEEEEVVVVVVVVYYYYYYYY!”

 

The music swells, and finally drops off, before…

 

…Mutha’fuck

 

*BAM!!*

 

White pyro explodes all along the entrance ramp, heralding Levy’s entrance through the curtains at the top. The man himself strides out from behind the curtain into a wave of support from the fans, yet he remains cool, but the grin on his face tells a story of confidence. He stops in the middle of the ramp way, cutting through the air to make an X, sending the fans into an absolute frenzy!

 

“While his entrance is a tad crude…” Comet says. “There’s no doubting the fans love Citizen Levy, and he hasn’t even had a match on an SWF stage!”

 

“Yes he did, Freak, TNT just forgot to edit it in, the schmuck.”

 

Comet hastily tries to cover that break in kayfabe. “Yes! I do believe he had a dark match last week, well spotted!”

 

As he slides into the ring, he catches sight of Lezaire, hamming it up for the camera. He strides over, pushing Lezaire aside and kneeling down, looking into Steve’s camera and reciting some of his favorite verses. Lezaire is ready to tear Levy limb from limb for stealing his spotlight, but luckily “Bank on Earth” by Ozzy Osborne begins to play, saving him the embarrassment as the fans begin to cheer!

 

“…And making his way to the ring,” bellows Funyon, “from Oil City, Pennsylvania. Weighing in at two hundred and seventy seven pounds… he is the current reigning USJL Champion… Please welcome… DAVID CCCCCCRRRROOOOOOSSSSSSSSS!”

 

The crowd erupts in cheers as Cross appears on the top or the ramp, both Levy and Lezaire turning to meet him, eyeing the gold belt around his waist. A cross remains focused, but is heartened by the crowd’s show of support and raises his arm to greet them.

 

“That’s right, play to your fans; you’ll have none by tomorrow morning when they see a REAL champion hold the belt, “Riley forecasts with a smirk.

 

“Stop trying to bring the man down, Robert!” snaps Comet. “Citizen Cross has been a terrific new addition to the SWF roster, and will always have his fans AND will no doubt dispatch of the sniveling Lezaire forthwith!”

 

Cross raises his arms high above his head, acknowledging the devoted crowd support, proudly holding the USJL title his hands, and vowing to the fans that he will remain champion into the morrow.

 

However, Ace, almost hyperventilating at the thought of the fans not paying attention to him, seeks to rain on Cross’ parade, hurling himself towards the ropes and plants his boots into his back with a dropkick to start the match!

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Cross goes end over end, tumbling onto the floor as the title is thrown into the air after the shunting blow. Ace holds out his arms, letting the title fall into his grasp, seeing his reflection in the gold. An almost perverted smile breaks out on Lezaire’s face, imagining the glory and success having a title would bring him-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-that is, until Levy halts his delusions of grandeur with a swift Roundhouse kick, hitting him square in the jaw! Both Ace and the title hurtle away, with Lezaire hitting the corner, dazed and confused. Levy picks up the title and simply smirks, handing it to Soapdish, but telling him to keep it close at hand, as this won’t take long. With that, the long-haired stoner lives up to his reputation as he charges towards the ropes and leaps over in spectacular fashion, before hurtling straight into Cross! The impact isn’t quite as spectacular, but the fans pop nonetheless!

 

“An intense opening foray has all three men down, but the fans on their feet!” shouts Comet, cringing as a replay of Levy’s suicide dive is shown. “Citizen Cross has ended up worse for ware already, and if he’s not careful, and not on his guard, he could end up losing that title of his as quick as a flash!”

 

“Of course, Freak, and it’s quite obvious that Lezaire is looking the goods already.” Riley replies, watching both Cross and Levy climb to their feet, stumbling away from each other. “We’ve already seen Levy’s unpredictable and unstable offence which will kill him if he’s not careful, and Cross has been a dimwitted fool.”

 

“Oh, but he’s no fool, Robert. A GPA of 3.7 is nothing to sneeze at! He’s inspiration for kids to stay in school!” Comet delivers that last line whilst smiling directly into camera and giving a thumbs up for a good five seconds.

 

“Pfft, it’s not like you’d ever use an algebraic equation to help you hit a Powerbomb. School is for suckers, kids.”

 

As Levy and Cross just start to find their feet, Lezaire salutes the crowd, drawing spiteful boos as he prepares himself, placing his hands on the top rope, ready to dive down across his opponents. Both Levy and Cross and wise to his plans, however, and they each grab an ankle and trip Ace up, pulling him underneath the bottom rope and out onto the floor! The show on unity between the two fan favorites sends the fans into a frenzy, but Levy knows he can’t trust a guy with a Cross around his neck for long, and neither can David trust a long haired hippy. They slide into the ring at the same time, meeting each other in the centre of the ring.

 

*BAM!*

 

Cross fires off a forearm, connecting with the jaw.

 

*THUMP!*

 

Levy retaliates with a kick to the kidney.

 

*BAM!*

*THUMP!*

*BAM!*

*THUMP!*

 

The two trade blows, neither gaining the ascendancy, until Levy stuns Cross with a sharp kick to the bread basket, winding the champion. With a window of a few seconds to press his advantage, Levy connects with a Spinning Sobat Kick to the chest, sending Cross backing into the ropes.

 

The fans sense Levy has something in mind as he waits for Cross to return. As he does, Lezaire, grumbling something about a conspiracy, claws himself up onto the canvas, before slowly climbing to the top turnbuckle. At the same time, Levy leaps straight into the air, taking Cross around the neck and flipping him over with a Hurricanrana! Cross lands hard, and is immediately pinned as Levy reaches back, grabbing each leg

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TW-

 

But Cross pushes Levy away as he kicks out, rolling out to the side. The Poet, though looking well and truly stoned, feels a burst of confidence as he climbs to his feet, welcoming the fans love with open arms. He turns around, trying to find the Canadian he dispatched of earlier…

 

Levy Catches sight of him on the top rope, flying off with a Cross-body splash! Lezaire crashes into Levy, quickly hooking him by the leg as Soapdish counts

 

ONE!

 

 

But only gets to one as Levy kicks Ace away, easily breaking the count, almost insulted by Lezaire’s refusal to lie down and let him win. The Poet and the Prodigy meet each other face to face as they recover quickly, neither man letting the other have even a split-second advantage. An moment of uncertainty creeps into both men’s mind as they look at each other, before the stand-off is broken with an-

 

*WHACK!*

 

-open hand slap to the face from Ace! The fans, twenty thousand strong, all cry “OOOH!” before letting their objections be known, calling for Lezaire’s head! Levy rubs his jaw, thinking he didn’t get trained by the best, to be slapped by some unknown wannabe without an iota of real talent. Brian prepares to show him what true talent is, letting go another side kick…

 

“He’s caught him!” cries Cyclone Comet, amazed at the Canadian’s nimble reactions for once. “Citizen Lezaire has learnt much from his time in the SWF, and he knew his opponent would retaliate to his slap, which was utterly disrespectful, mind you… and that Levy would try to catch him by surprise, but he thwarted his plans.”

 

“Brian Levy ain’t half the man Lezaire is. I don’t care who he was trained by, he ain’t got nothin’ on Ace. I mean, look at him spin around, legs flying, he obviously has no idea…”

 

*BAM!*

 

“… No idea who framed Roger Rabbit. Nope. Absolutely none.”

 

“Nice save, Bobbo, but Citizen Levy was trained BY the best to BE the best because he IS the best! And he’s already shown it, connecting with an Gamengiri right on the nose!”

 

The sight of Lezaire’s head hitting the canvas warms the heart of every fan in the arena. Levy pounces on Ace and hooks him by the leg, as Soapdish slides over for

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

Only a two count, as Ace rolls a shoulder off the mat, then proceeding to scamper across the mat to escape the fray. Levy charges right after the Canadian, bringing him to his feet and sending him bolting towards the ropes. Lezaire runs into yet more trouble, literally, as a rejuvenated Cross lowers his head and sends him flying over the top rope, but…

 

“… He lands unscathed on the apron!” bellows the Superhero. “Citizen Lezaire skins the cat, barely holding on for dear life, but once again, the nefarious cretin’s dumb luck shines through.”

 

Lezaire tries to find his footing just as Levy bursts out of the blocks, looking to blindside Cross, but he’s denied as Cross darts to the side and sends him into the ropes…

 

OOOOOHHHH!

 

…straight into Lezaire’s waiting arms, who hops off the apron, grabbing Levy by his flowing locks and pulling his throat down across the cable!

 

“Dumb luck? No, no, Comet, he’s crafty, intelligent, and not bad to look at either. Just when you think he’s done and dusted… BAM! Hits you with a Stone Cold Stunner and it’s all over.”

 

“Who’s this Stone Cold character then…?”

 

Levy gasps as his neck snaps back, turning him in a half circle, right into David Cross, who lowers his head, grabs Levy around the waist, and….

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

 

…drops him like a sack of potatoes, nailing him with a vicious Spinebuster! The Champion’s impressive exploits draw cheers from the crowd, but groans from Levy who rolls away, battered and bruised.

 

“Such awesome power from this young man,” marvels Comet, watching Cross breathe heavily, taking a moment to calm down after losing himself for just a moment. “Cross has been a bright light in a federation full of villains, but I sense a dark side that contains great hatred. I hope Citizen Cross stays the path of Justice…”

 

Riley pokes Comet in the chest with a cane. “Much anger in him, there is. Succumb to the dark side, he will.”

 

The ovation from the fans seems to warm Cross’ spirit, but the adulation is cut terribly short as Lezaire strikes stealthily from behind, taking Cross down with a chop block to the right knee! Cross tumbles to the mat, clutching his old Football injury while Lezaire sets himself up again, ready to attack.

 

“What was I saying about villains, huh!?” Comet yells, almost out of his seat, ready to berate the Canadian. “Such underhanded tactics from Ace, is there nothing he won’t stoop too!?”

 

“Settle down there, Freak,” snaps Riley, ready to defend Ace to the hilt. “It shows Ace has done his homework, and the lengths he’s willing to go to win the USJL Championship. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

 

“That’s because you’re a dirty, filthy lowlife like him! He’s exploiting an old injury to get ahead, and it’s just not right! But I’m confident that justice will prevail in the end,” proclaims Comet, leading the fans in long, prolonged jeering of Lezaire.

 

But the Canadian is in the zone. The expression on his face says it all; big, cheesy grin and sharp, determined eyes, zeroed straight in on that knee as-

 

BOOOOOOOO!

 

-he takes Cross down yet again with a Chop Block! The pain coursing through Cross’ right knee causes him to wail, rolling over and clutching his knee, gritting his teeth and punching the mat. Lezaire doesn’t take long in planning his next angle of attack, crossing David’s legs over and threading his own leg through, before reaching over his back and applying a Facelock!

 

“Cross STF form Ace! Fancy David Cross getting caught in this move, I mean, the name of the move is a CROSS STF, and his name is David CROSS, you see? It’s just too delicious…” Riley prattles, enjoying the irony a little too much.

 

The current champion shakes his head wildly, refusing to show signs of weakness, but the more Lezaire leans back in the hold, the more pressure his knee is under, causing the pain to intensify tenfold. The crowd are on their feet, sensing that the sniveling rat may actually have the match won, but from the corner of his eye, Ace sees something, a boot, going fast and straight for his-

 

*BAM!*

 

-face! Levy rears back and boots the Canadian square in the face, causing to lose the Facelock and fly backward, causing even more pain for Cross! The torture isn’t over yet, however, as Levy mounts on top of both Ace and Cross, sitting on Lezaire’s back and taking him around neck with a Reverse Face Lock, better known as the Dragon Clutch! Now both Cross AND Lezaire are feeling the pinch as Levy nods his head, admiring his own handiwork.

 

“What ingenuity shown by young Citizen Levy!” Comet admires, as the fans stand in unison and applaud the amazing sight in the centre of the ring. “He has both his opponents in a precarious position, doing untold damage to both!”

 

“Now THIS is underhanded, Comet. I tell you, Hallucinogens should be banned in wrestling, I mean, look at the crazy and downright dangerous ideas they’re giving Levy!”

 

Just as the fans reach orgasmic heights, Nick Soapdish is forced to interfere, telling Levy to break the hold or be disqualified. The Poet argues the “Man’s” rules, but ultimately let’s go of the hold, allowing Lezaire and Cross to untangle and lick their wounds. Ace won’t get off that easy, though, as Levy brings him to his feet, driving the air out of him with Martial Arts strikes to the body, forcing Ace into the corner. A single bitch slap pops the crowd, before Bryan sends Ace across the ring, following him in close pursuit…

 

… But Lezaire, cunning as always, places his hands on the top rope and vaults over the top of Levy as he charges in for the kill. Ace flies over the top of Levy and lands on his feet, but Bryan is lightning fast as he shoots a Superkick, aiming for Lezaire’s jaw. Ace proves he can match Levy in the speed department, at least for now, as he ducks underneath the swift blow, taking advantage of the situation as Levy as his back to him, lifting him up into the air for a Back Drop! Ace, always looking to wow the crowd, spins Levy around, but the fans are none to happy.

 

That all changes when Levy throws his right leg over Lezaire’s shoulder, beginning to flip himself over in mid-air, before hooking his left leg around Ace’s neck and snapping him over with a modified Hurricanrana!

 

The fans pop for the outrageous and dazzling move, which puts a big smile on comet’s face, “LEVY’S WINDWILL! This man has simply amazing skills, Robert! And the fans love him for it, as much as they love seeing Citizen Lezaire getting the snot kicked out of him!”

 

“Oh har, har…” Answers Riley, followed by a long groan. “He’s been lucky so far, damn lucky, Freak, but he’s pushing the envelope, and one day, his move will back fire, hopefully breaking his neck thus destroying his career so I’ll never have to see him ever, ever again.”

 

“That’s a… tad morbid, Robert.”

 

“It’s happened before.”

 

Lezaire skips across the mat like a pebble across a lake, except there’s nothing to break his fall but the canvas. He finally comes to a stop, but Levy is on the scene in a flash, grabbing his legs and flipping over with a bridged pin for

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTHHRRRHR…

 

…A two and a ½ count only! The fans sigh in disappointment, but Levy can see the pain etched on Ace’s face. His neck is hurting, and he plans to capitalize. Levy motions to his elbow, smacking it a few times before backing into the ropes, building up some momentum as Lezaire waits in the centre of the ring, an unwitting victim.

 

Levy sprints across the mat, swinging his elbow out in a wide motion, but Ace somehow ducks underneath the blow! Levy growls, the Canadian’s counters getting on his nerves, but before he can swing back around to clobber Lezaire with an elbow smash, Ace goes downstairs with a kick! Soapdish glares at Lezaire, but the Canadian just shrugs his shoulders and plays innocent, before lifting the Poet high into the air with a vertical Suplex.

 

“He’s got him up, Freak, and the only way to go is down for the three count,” Riley boldly predicts, rooting for his boy. “A picture perfect Suplex attempt, letting the blood rush to Levy’s head… letting Levy grab him around the neck… letting him fall gently… back down on his feet…”

 

“…Oh, Christ.” Mutters Riley as Levy clamps down around Lezaire’s neck, falling down harmlessly behind him! Levy reaches back, grabbing Ace’s head in a vice, before leaping high into the air, kicking his legs out to increase the momentum coming down, and the subsequent neck snappage…

 

… But Cross puts a spanner in the works, grabbing Levy by the ankles, letting them rest on his shoulder. The crowd gasps as Cross attempts to pull Levy up for a Powerbomb, but the Poet simply twists his entire body like a corkscrew, sending both Cross and Lezaire crashing to the mat!

 

“Now THAT is style!” admires Comet. “For a man his size, he possesses an amazing amount of agility, just as Edwin MacPhisto once did.”

 

Levy, knowing too well he doesn’t have to pin the champion, turns Lezaire over, pushing his arm into his chest

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHRRREEEEE…

 

 

But a timely shoulder off the mat saves Lezaire from certain fate! Levy frets not, however, simply turning to Cross’ prone body and hooking him by the leg for

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTHHHHHH…

 

 

Only a two count! The fans are disappointed, but applaud Levy’s quick thinking. Now, with the obvious upper hand in the contest, Levy reaches down to grab the lowly Canadian, but Ace does the smart thing and rolls out of the ring, leaving Cross for Levy’s drug-induced schemes. The Poet scrapes Cross’ carcass off the canvas, bringing him to his feet slowly, and attempting to whip him into the strands…

 

… But Cross has other ideas, reversing the whip, and then again for a second time, nailing Levy across the jaw with a short-arm LARIATOOOOOOO much to the crowd’s delight!

 

 

*THWACK!*

 

 

CROSS! CROSS! CROSS! CROSS!

 

 

“Cross finally does something I agree with; punking out a god damn hippy,” Riley says, a sickly satisfied grin on his face.

 

“Well while you take an unhealthy fascination with Citizen Levy’s demise, the fans are on their feet, cheering for the champion as he executes a beautiful move!” Comet replies. “Levy took a second too long, and Cross shows exactly why he holds the USJL title, taking out his challenger in brutal yet Justice-like fashion!”

 

Cross takes a second or two to recover, exerting a lot of energy for that move, and hurting his knee in the process, but he soldiers on, covering Levy as Soapdish slides over and counts

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTHHRREEEE…

 

…But Levy kicks out! Cross shakes his head and closes his eyes, cursing himself, but still the match continues. Cross climbs to his feet, bringing Levy with him, looking to whip him into the ropes, but Levy reverses it, sending Cross bounding into the ropes.

 

The crowd waits anxiously as he returns, but as he does, Levy moves out to the side, taking Cross down by the right leg with a Drop Toe Hold, planting him face first on the mat. Cross grunts but knows he has to get up, but before he can, Levy grabs him around the waist, trying to lift him up for a German Suplex!

 

“Citizen Cross is hurting, there’s no doubt about that,” Comet says, worryingly, “but he won’t give up yet, not when he’s put his heart into the title, and not when these people believe in him, not when I do!”

 

Indeed, Cross is fighting on, bracing himself as he puts his left leg forward suddenly to prevent Levy from lifting him. Levy tries once again but to no avail as Cross reaches forward, grabbing the ropes!

 

“Oh, cut the maudlin crap, Freak,” Riley answers in disgust. “We all know neither Cross OR Levy will be the champion when this night has ended. I mean, look, Ace is back up on the apron, no doubt formulating some brilliant plan.”

 

Ace pulls himself up onto the ring apron, right in front of Cross, who remains defiant, while Levy links his arms together, but it’s another futile attempt. Lezaire vaults over the top rope, over Cross, and Levy, all the way to the centre of the ring, where he reaches underneath Levy, pulling him over in a school boy…

 

…and as he does, Cross grip gives way, and as Levy is pulled to the mat for the pin, he lifts Cross up and over…

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

 

…NAILING him with a German Suplex!

 

 

“OH MY!” is all Comet can utter. “Levy couldn’t get Cross to go until Lezaire came into help! That was incredible!”

 

“What did I tell you Comet, huh? A MASTER stroke by Lezaire as both men are now being pinned.”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHRRRRRREEEEEEEE…

 

 

 

NO! Both Levy and Cross kick out, and despite the crowd’s ill will towards Lezaire, they applaud the amazing sequence of moves. They soon begin to jeer again as Ace is first back up on his feet, followed by Levy, who immediately spins around to meet Lezaire. Ace gambles his luck, kicking Bryan in the gut and twisting around, taking Levy around the head!

 

“ACE CRUSHER!” Rile delightfully screams. “Get it, Ace - Crusher? Huh, huh?”

 

…But the move is countered! Levy pushes Lezaire forward into the strands, then waiting for his return with a wink and a smile, and the fans chanting his name.

 

LE – VY! LE – VY! LE – VY! LE – VY!

 

Bryan knows he won’t disappoint, because he has the perfect finish in mind; a Third Eye Driver right in the centre of the ring, signaling it with a cross, which sends the fans crazy. His plans are foiled by a slippery Canadian who grabs onto the ropes to save himself! Levy shakes his head and runs towards Ace, but he sent hurtling backward by a springboard dropkick from Lezaire!

 

Levy is stunned and spun around, straight into David Cross’ waiting grasp. Cross shoves Levy into a standing headscissors, raising his arm to the fans…

 

“He’s going to end it! Citizen Cross is going to retain if he hits the Black Mass!” Comet repeats again and again, on his feet.

 

The big man kisses his Cross around his neck before lifting Levy into the air and onto his shoulders before his knee knows what’s happening. Almost instantly, as Levy reaches the apex, he comes down…

 

 

 

*BAM!*

 

 

 

… DRIVEN into the mat with the Black Mass, a lethal Spinebuster!

 

“This sickens me, it really does. Lezaire deserves the credit here, this is an injustice…”

 

“It’s fair justice, Robert! Citizen Cross is about to become victorious and… Wait! Wait just a second, Lezaire is making his move! The dastardly criminal is attacking from behind!”

 

The Canadian picks his spot perfectly, bringing Cross to his knees as he aims a Stavat kick to Cross’ injured joint! His knee buckles, leaving him in perfect position as Ace grabs both his arms, pushing him down to the mat and grinding his face into the canvas…

 

The crowd watches on helplessly as Ace flips over into a bridge, locking on the CATTLE MUTILATION!

 

“This just can’t be!” Comet cries. “That’s…”

 

“Perfection or Vanity?” Riley cockily responds. “Perfection, freak. Absolute perfection.”

 

With Levy knocked out cold next to the two men, the crowd do all they can to help Cross summon up enough will to fight on, but Lezaire is merciless, seeing victory in sight and gold around his waist already.

 

…But Cross won’t give in, trying to contort his body left and right, trying to counter the move in any way possible, but Lezaire tightens his grip around Cross’ arms, holding him perfectly in place. Cross can’t see the ropes, his face buried in the canvas, his neck and spine compacting, until…

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“THAT’S IT!” Shouts Riley joyfully. “Cross gives up in the Cattle Mutilation, and we have a new champion!”

 

Lezaire lets go of the hold, quickly escaping, holding his neck while the fans hurl abuse at him from all corners of the arena, but their worse fears are confirmed as Soapdish raises Ace’s arm into the air, and Funyon announces…

 

“Here is your winner… and the NEW! S W F United States Junior League Champion… ACE LEZAAIIIIRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

The Canadian high tails it up the ramp, barely even celebrating as both Levy and Cross begin to stir. Once Ace reaches the top of the ramp and turns around, looking out amongst the sea of fans, does he realize what’s happened. A satisfied grin breaks out across his face as he looks at his newly one title, and David Cross stares back at him.

 

The Champion for justice is stunned. “This can’t be… this isn’t how… this is…”

 

“Perfect? Yes, I agree. Ace Lezaire finally captures SWF gold at the expense of David Cross, and boy, I’m ready to party.”

 

The show fades to a commercial, showing Lezaire’s smug Canadian grin on his face, and the USJL title around his waist…

Edited September 4, 2004 by Thoth

[Thoth 0]

Backstage at SWF Storm, a single camera comes to life, revealing a chair in the middle of a room and a figure moving into frame. As the figure sits in the chair, it's revealed to be Manson! The fans cheer and scream, as Manson begins speaking…

 

"As you may recall, on Smarkdown Max King challenged me to a… submission-only Steel Cage Match at Genesis…" chuckles Manson. "Well, first things first King, you don't have the **BLEEP**ing right!"

 

"Months ago, you turn on me in a tag match… Then, you tap out at Ground Zero in our USJL Championship Match, reinjuring me the show after because you couldn't handle the fact… I know that still eats away at you, by the way… And finally, you cost me the title against Everheart… And yet, you have the nerve to issue the challenge and to call me the cheater, you have the nerve to call me jealous, sneaky and manipulative."

 

"I've been uncharacteristically patient with you, Max," says Manson, as he calmly runs a hand through his hair, before leaning closer to the camera. "Lately, I've shown all the restraint I'm capable of. Make no mistake, you son of a bitch, were this the old me, you'd be laid up in the hospital by now…You haven't come close to seeing what I can do to my enemies…"

 

"You know, the more I think about it, this match doesn't sound like such a bad idea. I'm through being the nice guy, Max. I'm tired of the head games, I'm tired of the sneak attacks. At Genesis, it's time to end this once and for all. Injured leg or not, I will walk out of Genesis the winner..." says Manson, as he grins, stands and walks out of frame.

 

"I suppose it's official, it's Manson versus Max King at Genesis in a Steel Cage Submission Match!" screams Comet. "We'll be right back with more Storm, after this…"

[Thoth 0]

“Welcome back to Storm,” says Cyclone Comet. “And coming up next, we’ve got the Number One contender to the World Cruiserweight Championship, the “Real Deal” Ryan Dustin, taking on the Birdman in singles competition! Just last week ago on Lockdown, Dustin beat Birdman in a match to BECOME the Number One contender, and Birdman requested a rematch against the Real Deal, that’s going to happen here tonight!”

 

“This match is crucial for Ryan Dustin,” says Bobby Riley. “He barely pulled off that win against Birdman last week, and he needs to win here tonight in order to prove that it wasn’t a fluke!”

 

“He definitely needs a big win here if he wants to have any momentum going into his match with the Cruiserweight Champion,” agrees Comet. “He could get a big boost going into Genesis with a strong showing here tonight!”

 

Inside the ring, Funyon stands holding the microphone, waiting to receive his cue from the speaker planted inside his ear. He raises the microphone to his lips and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a fifteen-minute time limit!”

 

LEEEET’S GET RETARDED… IN HEEEEEEEEERE!

 

The Detroit fans become excited as the Black Eyed Peas “Let’s Get Retarded” starts playing:

 

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 Birdman bursts from behind the curtain onto the stage, his costume having gray feathers, with a rust-red belly and a dark gray mask, symbolizing the colors of the Michigan state bird, the American Robin. He dances down towards the ring, slapping hands with the fans at ringside as he descends the ramp.

 

“Making his way to the ring at this time,” says Funyon, “from parts unknown, weighing two hundred nineteen pounds, the BIIIIIRDMAAAAAN!” Birdman slides into the ring and pops to his feet, flapping his cloth “wings” as twenty-thousand fans begin chanting his name:

 

BIIIIRD-MAN!

BIIIIRD-MAN!

BIIIIRD-MAN!

BIIIIRD-MAN!

 

“The Birdman doesn’t look any the worse for wear after his last appearance on SWF television,” notes Comet. “In fact, he looks just as happy to be performing for the fans as he always does!”

 

“Then he’s an idiot,” replies Bobby. “If he had any brains, he would focus on winning this match and trying to climb back up the Cruiserweight rankings; if he loses to Dustin again, he’s going to have a long road to climb to get back up the ladder!” Birdman removes his hard plastic headpiece, revealing the matching mask underneath, and hands it to the attendant at ringside, along with his cloth “wings.” He begins to bounce back and forth on his feet nervously as the lights dim and his music fades out.

 

Dirty Dog

I'm, I'm a dirty dog

I'm a dirty dog

I'm, I'm a dirty dog

Dirty Dog

I'm a dirty dog

Dirty Dog

 

I'm an outlaw (I'm an outlaw)

Quick on the draw (Quick on the draw)

Somethin' you've never seen before (Never Seen)

And I dare a motherfucker to come in my face

I got somethin' chrome (I got somethin' Chrome)

And I got it from home (I got it from home)

And it ain't a microphone (Ain't it a mic!)

And I dare a motherfucker to come in my face

 

The Joe Louis Arena goes crazy as “Lapdance” by N.E.R.D. begins to play, signaling the arrival of Ryan Dustin. The Real Deal steps out onto the stage and into the spotlight, dressed as usual in his signature extended length red camouflage jacket. He crosses his hands in front of him in his signature pose and then holds them above his head at the top of the ramp before he begins to make his way down to ringside.

 

“His opponent,” says Funyon, “from Carson City, Nevada, weighing in at two hundred twenty-eight pounds, the ‘Real Deal,’ RYYYYYAN DUSSSTIN!” Funyon walks towards the ropes and exits to the arena floor as the Real Deal makes his way to the ring. He walks up the steel stairs and walks across the apron, climbing onto a nearby turnbuckle and turning his attention towards his opponent in the ring, sizing him up with his self-made “picture frame.”

 

“There he is,” says Comet excitedly. “The Number One Contender to Tom Flesher’s Cruiserweight Championship! He looks extraordinarily confident here tonight!”

 

“Well, it’s amazing what a couple of wins can do for your self-esteem,” says Riley, as Ryan backflips into the ring. “A couple of weeks ago, Dustin looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. But, you’re right, Comet; ever since becoming the Number One Contender to the Cruiserweight Title, he HAS been brimming with a quiet confidence. He even stands straighter! It’s like he actually believes that he has what it takes to upset the legendary Tom Flesher…”

 

“Absolutely right,” agrees Comet.

 

“… Even though he doesn’t,” finishes Riley.

 

“Will you stop?”

 

Dustin removes his jacket and hands it over the top rope to the attendant at ringside. He turns to face the Birdman as his music fades out, and referee Brent Dunn motions to the referee to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Bell’s gone,” says Comet, “and we’re underway!” Birdman and Dustin circle each other before locking up in the center of the ring. Birdy quickly gains the advantage, reaching across his body with his left arm and hooking it underneath Ryan’s left arm, before falling backwards as he snaps Dustin over with a quick armdrag! Both men get back to their feet immediately and begin to size each other up again. They meet for another lockup, and this time, Ryan takes the advantage, quickly shifting into a side headlock. Birdy guides the Real Deal towards the edge of the ring and uses the ropes to help him propel Dustin away from him and shoot him across the ring. Birdman leaps high into the air as Dustin bounces off the ropes, deftly leapfrogging him and immediately springing back off the mat the second his feet touch down, performing a “no-look” leapfrog reminiscent of Jimmy Snuka as Ryan rebounds a second time. Birdman takes a step towards Dustin, meeting him as he bounces off the ropes a third time, and hooks his left arm underneath that of the Real Deal’s…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And jerks him through the air abruptly, sending him crashing to the mat on his back with a beautiful deep arm drag!

 

“Birdman has gotten this match off to a good start,” notes Comet, as Birdy transitions seamlessly into an arm-wringer. “He’s trying to vary his attack up a little from the last time these two faced each other.”

 

“It’s always smart strategy to keep your opponent guessing,” agrees Riley. “Even if it was probably done by accident, which is likely in Bird-brain’s case!” Birdman stands up and pulls Dustin to his feet. Still holding onto the arm wringer, the Bird shifts his grip towards Ryan’s wrist, and gives his arm one more good twist before leading him into a neutral corner. He gracefully leaps up to the top turnbuckle and begins to walk across the top rope while still holding onto Ryan’s wrist, stopping mid-way through and leaping back into the ring, landing in a seated position on Dustin’s shoulders. Suddenly, Birdman locks his legs behind Dustin’s head and arches backwards, snatching the Real Deal off the mat and sending him tumbling over the top rope…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… And down to the arena floor with a scintillating hurricanrana!

 

 

“What an amazing hurricanrana by the Birdman,” shouts Comet. “He’s off to an amazing start this week!”

 

“That should be a disqualification,” barks Riley. “He threw Dustin over the top rope!”

 

“That was really more of a momentum move than him actually being thrown over the top rope,” replies Comet. “Besides, I think that the referee may be inclined to let it slide, since they BOTH went over the top!” Birdman climbs back onto the ring apron and waits for the Real Deal to get back to his feet before leaping onto the middle rope and then springing back off…

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… Flipping backwards as he crashes into Dustin with an Asai Moonsault! Referee Dunn begins his twenty-count as both men roll around on the floor:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

“Birdman wasting no time taking the match outside,” notes Riley. “He may be feeling some desperation on his part to get the win here!”

 

“Well, as you said, Robert,” replies Comet, “Birdman needs this win just as much as Citizen Dustin; perhaps even more so, as a loss here could send him back down to the bottom of the Cruiserweight rankings!” Birdman beats Dustin to his feet and rolls back into the ring, waiting on his opponent to return.

 

 

EIGHT!

 

NINE!

 

TEN!

 

ELEVEN!

 

Finally, Dustin gets to his feet and begins to stumble back towards the ring. As he pulls himself onto the apron, Birdy runs to the nearby corner, leaping to the top turnbuckle, and waiting for Ryan to resume a standing position before leaping off the turnbuckle towards the outside of the ring…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… Crashing into the Real Deal and sending them both back to the arena floor with a death-defying corkscrew moonsault!

 

 

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

 

 

“What an amazing maneuver by the Birdman,” shouts Comet. Once again, he puts his body on the line to try and do damage to his opponent!”

 

“This guy’s a lunatic,” snaps Riley, as both men roll around on the floor. “He just took a dive from ten feet in the air down to the concrete floor, and for what? Just to do a little damage to Ryan Dustin? Now he has to worry about how much damage he just did to himself!”

 

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

SEVEN!

 

EIGHT!

 

NINE!

 

 

Both men remain unmoving for several seconds, but Birdman is once again first to his feet. He staggers towards the edge of the ring and rolls underneath the bottom rope as the referee continues his count:

 

 

THIRTEEN!

 

FOURTEEN!

 

FIFTEEN!

 

 

Finally, Dustin rolls onto his knees and starts to crawl towards the edge of the ring. Hearing the referee’s count, he uses the ring apron to pull himself back up:

 

SEVENTEEN!

 

EIGHTEEN!

 

NINETEEN!

 

 

Before the referee reaches twenty, Dustin manages to pull himself back onto the apron, stopping the count. Birdman greets him as he tries to stand up, reaching over the top rope to pull him to his feet. The Bird then leads Ryan to the corner and slams his head into the turnbuckle! He climbs up the turnbuckles from inside the ring, and begins to pull Dustin up the turnbuckles from the outside.

 

“Birdman looks like he’s setting Dustin up for a big-time maneuver,” says Comet. “If he hits whatever it is he’s going for, this match could very well be over!” Midway up the turnbuckles, however, Ryan begins fighting back, hammering Birdman with stiff Shotei to the chest until he falls off of the turnbuckle back into the ring. Birdy rolls backwards onto his feet, but before he has time to react…

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Dustin climbs all the way to the top turnbuckle and immediately springs off, diving feet-first into the ring and blasting Birdman in the chest with a spectacular missile dropkick! Both men get to their feet slowly, with Birdman appearing to have more energy as he approaches Dustin, but the Real Deal surprises him again, hooking him around the upper waist and popping his hips suddenly as he takes Birdy off his feet…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And slams him onto his head with an amazing T-Bone suplex!

 

“What a spectacular comeback by Ryan Dustin,” shouts Comet. “He’s survived the early onslaught by the Birdman and fought all the way back into this match!” Ryan pulls Birdman away from the corner and applies a weak pin as referee Dunn drops down to make the count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR—NO!

 

 

LET’S GO, BIRDMAN! LET’S GO, DUSTIN!

LET’S GO, BIRDMAN! LET’S GO, DUSTIN!

LET’S GO, BIRDMAN! LET’S GO, DUSTIN!

LET’S GO, BIRDMAN! LET’S GO, DUSTIN!

LET’S GO, BIRDMAN! LET’S GO, DUSTIN!

 

“The crowd is very clearly divided in their support for these two fine competitors,” says Comet.

 

“That was very nearly a big win by Dustin,” says Riley. “Now let’s find out how effective he is at going on the offensive!” Dustin pulls Birdman to his feet as he measures him for a wicked European uppercut!

 

 

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

 

Dustin continues to lay into Birdman with heavy European uppercuts, hoping to soften him up for a critical blow, before hooking him underneath the armpits and snatching him off the canvas…

 

 

SLAM!

 

 

… And slamming him back down with a Sambo suplex. This time, Ryan hooks the leg as he applies a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR—NO!

 

 

… But Birdman again kicks out! Dustin pulls Birdman back to his feet and forces him into the corner, where he immediately climbs to the second turnbuckle and begins to hammer Birdy repeatedly in the face:

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

SIX!

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

EIGHT!

 

 

NINE!

 

 

TEN!

 

 

Dustin pulls Birdman out of the corner and allows him to fall to the mat before positioning him flush with the corner. Ryan then runs past his opponent towards the corner and leaps onto the top rope, bouncing twice before flipping gracefully back into the ring…

 

SPLASH!

 

… Crashing onto Birdman’s chest with his patented double-jump moonsault!

 

“A Real Classic by Ryan Dustin,” exclaims Comet. “This could be enough right here!” Dustin applies a lateral press as the referee makes his count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

NO! BIRDMAN BARELY GETS THE SHOULDER UP! The crowd begins to cheer Birdman anew, showing their support for his fighting spirit!

 

“You’ve got to give credit to Birdman,” says Comet. “He’s a fierce competitor, and he’s not going to go down without a HELL of a fight!”

 

“I don’t have to give that idiot credit for anything,” replies Riley. “If he wasn’t so obsessed with doing crazy maneuvers in the ring, he’d still be in control of this match!” Dustin stands up and pulls Birdman to his feet…

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

… When the crowd, who begin booing almost in unison, suddenly distracts him! Dustin looks around frantically, trying to discover the reason for their sudden animosity, when he spies a figure descending the ramp:

 

“What the hell is he doing here,” barks Comet, as he notices ‘The Superior One,’ Tom Flesher, making his way down towards the ring.

 

“Isn’t it obvious,” replies Bobby. “He’s come to scout his opposition! Not that he really needs to, as Dustin isn’t on Tom Flesher’s level, anyway, but he certainly has the prerogative as the champion. Besides, maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll grace us with his presence!”

 

“Oh yeah,” says Comet sarcastically. “Lucky.” Dustin’s attention has been completely diverted towards the Cruiserweight Champion, following him with his eyes as he walks around the ring.

 

“This is reprehensible,” growls Comet. “Tom Flesher has taken Citizen Dustin’s attention away from the Birdman; he’s totally disrupted the flow of this match!” Dustin leans over the edge of the ring and begins to bark at Flesher, demanding that he leave ringside, but the Superior One ignores him as he continues to walk around the ring, towards the announce table. Suddenly, Birdman crawls up behind Dustin, capitalizing on his distraction to hook the Real Deal around the inner thigh and pull him backwards into a schoolboy pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE—

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

With a smirk over the near-fall, Flesher finally arrives at the announce table, where Riley has already risen from his seat and dusted it off, offering it to the Cruiserweight Champion. “Stand up, Comet,” he says. “Can’t you see that we’re about to be blessed by the presence of the World Cruiserweight Champion?”

 

Comet, however, refuses to get up, and only glances briefly towards Flesher before turning his attention back to the ring. “We appear to be joined at this time at the announce table by the SWF World Cruiserweight Champion, Tom Flesher,” he says, without a trace of enthusiasm. Back inside the ring, Dustin beats Birdman to his feet and stuns him with another European uppercut before whipping him to the ropes, but he puts his head down as Birdman rebounds…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… And pays for it, as the Bird traps Dustin in a front facelock as he bounces off the ropes and twists around suddenly, driving the Real Deal into the mat with a swinging neckbreaker!

 

 

“Why thank you, Comet,” Flesher says mockingly as he puts on a pair of headphones. “Isn’t this a wonderful night to watch two fine cruiserweights fighting tooth and nail?”

 

“It certainly was, until you showed up,” snaps Comet. “Isn’t it enough that you’ve already almost cost Dustin this match?”

 

“Hey,” barks Riley, coming to Flesher’s defense like a well-trained lapdog. “He didn’t cost Dustin anything! He didn’t even lay a hand on him!” Birdy pulls Dustin to his feet and steps behind him, locking both hands underneath his chin and placing both knees behind Ryan’s head as he leaps up and jumps backwards…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… Jamming his knees into the back of Dustin’s neck as he falls to the mat with a modified neckbreaker!

 

“Both knees into the back of the neck,” shouts Comet, trying his best to ignore both Flesher and Riley. “That was almost like a reverse Bird-Breaker!”

 

“Hey, take it easy,” says Flesher. “I just thought I’d come down to take a look at my next challenger in the ring, to see what I’ll be up against, and I have to say, I’m not very impressed so far!” Birdman gets back to his feet slowly and pulls Dustin up as well, trapping him in a front facelock before suddenly popping his hips the moment that he grabs onto Ryan’s leg…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Taking Dustin over and planting him into the mat with a snap suplex!

 

“Snap suplex by Citizen Bird,” says Comet, “and it appears that the Birdman may be looking to fly here!” Sure enough, Birdy rolls back to his feet and runs over to the edge of the ring, exiting to the ring apron and climbing to the top turnbuckle. For the first time in the match, Birdman makes his signature call to the crowd:

 

 

Birdman: CAW-CAW!

Crowd: CAW-CAW!

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Before leaping fearlessly off the top turnbuckle, and crashing down into Dustin with his patented suicide headbutt!

 

“Bird Bomb,” exclaims Riley. “And he got all of it! I can’t see Ryan Dustin kicking out of this!” Birdman applies a lateral press, but fails to hook the leg as referee Hardcastle delivers the count:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE—

 

 

 

 

NO! DUSTIN GETS THE SHOULDER UP!

 

 

The Detroit crowd begins to cheer wildly as Dustin kicks out of Birdman’s nonchalant cover “Citizen Dustin still has some fighting spirit,” proclaims Comet.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing,” replies Flesher. “I mean, if I’m going to have to defend my title against this guy, I’d like to at least break a sweat; if he would have went down to a headbutt, he wouldn’t stand a chance against me… not that he will, anyway…”

 

“Hah hah,” laughs Riley. “That’s a good one, Champ!”

 

”Why, thank you, Robert,” says Flesher. “Say, would you be a good man and bring me some coffee?”

 

“Sure thing, Champ! Right away,” replies Riley, as he removes his headset and sprints backstage. Inside the ring, Birdman gets to his feet and makes his way over to the corner, where he climbs deliberately to the top turnbuckle as he waits for the Real Deal to recover.

 

“Birdman returns to his favorite perch,” says Comet. “You never know what he’s going to do from up there!” Dustin gets to his feet, looking around for his opponent, but by the time he locates him, it’s too late…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… As Birdman leaps from the top turnbuckle and traps the Real Deal in a front chancery as he flies overhead, driving him down into the canvas with a spectacular flipping neckbreaker!

 

“Spectacular Blockbuster-style neckbreaker by the Birdman,” exclaims Comet, as Birdy gets to his feet and begins to dance. “Citizen Dustin is down and out… But, why won’t he pin him?”

 

“Because he’s an idiot, that’s why,” snaps Tom angrily. “This guy is an embarrassment to any self-respecting wrestler; I’m almost glad that Dustin won the title shot, just so that I won’t have to soil my hands with that cretin!” Birdy runs towards the ropes and begins to dance the Funky Chicken as he bounces off the ropes, hopping off the mat as he approaches the Real Deal…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And drives a fistdrop into his skull!

 

 

“Funky Funky Fistdrop by the Birdman,” shrieks Comet. “Birdman with a little bit of showmanship!” Birdman collapses over Dustin and applies another cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE—

 

 

NO!

 

“Only a two-count,” shouts Comet, as Dustin barely gets the shoulder up. Birdman stands up and pulls Ryan to his feet, grabbing him by the wrist and whipping him towards the ropes. Birdy leaps into the air as he bounces off the ropes…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But Dustin snatches him out of the air and spins around quickly on his heel, compressing Birdman’s spine against his extended thigh with his patented Atomic Drop/spinebuster combination!

 

“The Bona-Fide Thriller,” cries Comet. “Ryan Dustin pulled that out of NOWHERE!” The Bona-Fide Thriller gives Dustin a few more seconds of recovery, which pays dividends, as he is able to beat the Bird to his feet and spring into action, swinging his leg swiftly off the mat…

 

 

THWACK!

 

 

… And nearly decapitating Birdman with a jumping sidekick! Birdman rolls out of the ring to recover and the Oklahoma faithful begin to cheer the Real Deal with renewed intensity:

 

 

DUST-IN!

DUST-IN!

DUST-IN!

DUST-IN!

 

 

“What an amazing turn of events for Ryan Dustin,” exclaims Comet. “He appears to have once again survived the brunt of Birdman’s offense, and now has the opportunity to again put himself firmly in control of this match!” Dustin grasps onto the top rope as Birdman gets to his feet outside the ring and leaps out of the ring!

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… Sailing down to the arena floor and crashing into the Birdman with a sensational plancha!

 

 

“That was an impressive maneuver,” concedes Tom, “but he’s going to have to be able to come better than that if he wants to get the better of me… why, thank you, Robert!” With almost comical timing, Bobby returns to the ring just as Flesher utters the word “come,” pushing a sterling silver coffee service, and serves the Cruiserweight Champion his coffee. “Two sugars,” says Flesher, as he looks warily at Riley. “No cream.”

 

Meanwhile, Dustin, not one to resort to chicanery outside the ring, pulls Birdman to his feet and promptly rolls him back into the ring, sliding in behind him and applying a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE—NO!

 

 

“Two count, only,” says Comet. “But Birdman is definitely fighting from the defensive right now!” Dustin pulls Birdy to his feet and stuns him with a Shotei to the chest before stepping to his side and grabbing him underneath the knee, lifting him off the mat…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And falling backwards, slamming him back down with a teardrop suplex! Ryan floats over and hooks the leg as he tries to get the pin:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

NO!

 

 

“I can’t believe it,” breathes Comet. “Birdman barely got the left shoulder up!” Dustin lays Birdman flat against the mat again and tries to get the pin a second time:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THRE—

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

“Another kickout by the Birdman,” says Comet. “But, unless he can come up with another big time move, he’s not going to prevail in this match!” Ryan pulls Birdman to his feet and whips him to the ropes, and the Bird leaps into the air as he bounces off the ropes locking his legs around Dustin’s neck and swings around to deliver a flying headscissors…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But the Real Deal counters the headscissors attempt, smashing Birdman with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker!

 

“Tilt-a-whirl,” comments Riley. “That could be the beginning of the end right there!” Dustin rolls to the edge of the ring and uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, leaping onto the turnbuckles as he prepares to deliver his patented Star-Dustin Press!

 

“Uh oh,” moans Comet. “He could be going for the Star-Dustin Press! He put Birdman away with this move last week, and it could very well spell doom for him once again!” Ryan flips backwards off of the turnbuckle, twisting as he flies through the air…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But Birdman rolls out of the way just as he is about to land, causing him to crash into the mat!

 

“He missed,” shouts Comet.

 

“Well, of course he did,” snaps Flesher. “Just how many times did he think Birdman was going to let him beat him with that move? It’s called going too the well too many times, Comet. Even an idiot like Birdman is going to figure it out sooner or later!”

 

“Yeah,” chimes Riley. “You tell him, Champ!”

 

“At any rate,” continues Comet, “It’s anybody’s match at this point!” Dustin, still the slightly fresher man, beats Birdman to his feet and whips him into the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds to apply a Thesz press…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But the Birdman dives to the mat, somersaulting underneath the Real Deal and popping to his feet behind him as Dustin crashes to the mat. Springing into action, Birdy, pulls Ryan to his feet and whips him into the corner, rushing in after him and leaping into the air as he approaches the corner…

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… To crash into him with the Stinger Splash! Birdman steps back and waits for Dustin to stagger towards him before doubling him over with a kick to the midsection. He hooks the outside leg as he attempts to lift him into his patented Bird-Breaker finisher, but the Real Deal blocks his attempts to lift him until he’s able to reverse it, twisting his and Birdman’s bodies around until their backs are to each other, while maintaining a hold of Birdman’s neck, and then suddenly rushing towards the corner…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Falling to the mat as he nails Birdman with the REAL DEAL!

 

“By Zeus,” shouts Comet, as he gets to his feet. “The Real Deal! That came out of NOWHERE!” Dustin rolls over and hooks Birdman’s leg as the referee drops down to cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

Twenty thousand screaming fans leap to their feet and “Lapdance” begins to play again as referee Dunn motions to the timekeeper to ring the bell. Funyon rises from his seat at ringside to make the official announcement:

 

“Here is your winner,” he says, “the ‘Real Deal,’ RYYYYAAAN DUSSSSTIN!” Dustin gets to his feet as the referee raises his hand in victory.

 

“What an impressive victory for Ryan Dustin,” says Comet. “Nobody saw that Real Deal coming!”

 

“That only means that he was lucky,” Tom says dismissively. “He won’t get that lucky against me when he has to face me for this fourteen pounds of gold!” With that, he rises from his seat and holds the World Cruiserweight Title above his head, which gains the attention of the Number One Contender.

 

“If Ryan Dustin can hit Tom Flesher with that Real Deal neckbreaker, he could be the next Cruiserweight Champion! As it is, he proved to the world that his win over Birdman last week wasn’t a fluke, and now he’s got a great deal of momentum as he heads on a collision course with the Superior One! Does Ryan Dustin have what it takes to beat Tom Flesher? We may find out at Genesis! Stay with us, folks; we’ll be right back with more exciting SWF Action!”

 

Dustin climbs onto the middle ropes, and stares outside the ring at the World Cruiserweight Champion, who stares back at him smugly as Storm goes to commercial.

[Thoth 0]

Michael Anderson is limping through the hallways of the Joe Louis Arena, leaning heavily on his cane for support, when he hears his cell phone go off. He comes to a stop in order to retrieve it from his pocket, and then flips it open before he continues walking.

 

“Anderson here… yeah… well, it’s your own fault, taking him too lightly.” Despite the viewer only being able to hear one half of the conversation, one would assume that he is speaking to his client, the Birdman, who just lost to “The Real Deal” Ryan Dustin for the second straight time. “Now, you’re going to have to start back at the bottom of the ladder…”

 

Anderson remains silent as he rounds a corner, listening to the voice on the other end. “Well, does anyone around here owe you a favor?”

 

“…”

 

Anderson almost stops short as he hears the other voice. “You want me to ask him ? Well, I’m on my way there right now, anyway, but are you sure you want me to ask him about that? I mean, you still want his help with the target, right?”

 

“…”

 

“But, I thought you wanted him to have plausible deniability when I asked him for help with the target,” says Anderson. “If I try to call in this favor, it’s probably not going to take him long to…”

 

“…”

 

“Alright, fine,” sighs Anderson. “I’ll come up with something. That is what you pay me for, I guess.”

 

“…”

 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it,” says Anderson. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll go talk to Zenon as soon as I leave here.”

 

“…”

 

“I said I got it,” sighs Anderson. “Just make sure you get out of here without being seen… Yeah… I’ll let you know what Zenon says.” With that, Anderson stops walking, having arrived at his destination, and closes his cell phone before slipping it back into his pocket. “That kid is starting to become more trouble than he’s worth,” he mutters to himself, as he knocks on the door in front of him. It swings out, leaving the occupant obscured from the camera’s view.

 

“Thanks for meeting with me,” says Anderson, as he walks into the room, closing the door behind him.

[Thoth 0]

An outside view of the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit, Michigan brings us back live to SWF Storm, as the fans cheer at the view of the building where the action is taking place.

 

“Welcome back fans, we’re live here in Detroit, Michigan,” Cyclone Comet welcomes us back from the commercial break, “and we’re eagerly anticipating tonight’s main event!  Toxxic and Mark Stevens, one-on-one in that very ring, Bobby!”

 

“But that’s later in the show, folks, as right now we have an interesting match coming up featuring two big men.”

 

“It’s no normal match, Comet, this match will come down to two moves!  The Blunt Force Trauma and The Flatliner, belonging to John Duran and Nathan Xavier, respectively.  The first man to hit their finisher will be the winner, and I must say that it’s about time that Xavier takes on an opponent that can actually lift him in Duran.”

 

“If you ask me, Robert, the most interesting thing about this match is that Duran himself asked for this match,” Comet says with an incredulous tone.  “The Flatliner is one of the most potentially dangerous finishing maneuvers in the SWF today, but more importantly, it focuses on the neck, and I think that’s the last thing Duran needs to happen to him after these recent strings of losses.”

 

“Comet, I think this is Duran’s way of motivating himself.  He knows that he absolutely has to win this match, or he might end up with his neck snapped off at the root!”

 

“Duran has been in a rut lately, and his chances of getting that World Title shot he’s been after are looking less likely with every match that he fails to win!  Nathan Xavier is certainly not the biggest wrestler in terms of popularity, but what Xavier lacks in popularity in the SWF, he makes up for with his massive size!  It’ll be a task for Xavier to be lifted off the ground into Duran’s Blunt Force Trauma!”

 

“I’m tired of talking, Comet, let’s just get to the ring and get this match started!”

 

“Funyon is in the ring and he’s ready, so we’re certainly ready for this next matchup!”

 

The camera switches to a view of Funyon, facing straight ahead at the camera that is slowly zooming in on him.  “Ladies and gentlemen, this next match is a FINISHER match!”  There are scattered cheers among the fans as Funyon continues.  “The only way to win this match is to hit your own finisher, as has been designated before the match by the wrestler himself.  No other move will end the match!  There are no disqualifications, no countouts, and this match could end anywhere in this arena!”  Some more cheers pop up among the Michiganians.

 

“(Go To) California” by Rob Zombie begins to play over the loudspeakers as the crowd rises to their feet as the synthesized guitar riffs float out over the Detroit natives.  Nathan Xavier emerges from the curtain, walking down to the ring and slapping hands with fans who stretch their arms out to touch the big man.

 

“Introducing first,” Funyon begins again, “being accompanied to the ring by Sasha Edwards, he hails from Santa Clara, California and weighs in at three hundred and twenty-six pounds...NAAAAAAATHAN XAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVIER!”

 

The warm reception for Xavier continues as he steps up onto the apron and then enters through the ropes, raising his left hand in the air to show off his cast-iron chain that gets some more cheers from the crowd.  Sasha applauds her husband, there at ringside to provide moral support for Xavier in the match.

 

“Do you think he’ll use that chain during the match?” Comet asks Riley.

 

“If I were Nathan Xavier, I’d be more worried about Duran using that chain on me!  He’s not called The Notorious One for no reason!”

 

“NO!

NO!

NOTORIOUS!”

 

With that being said, Spineshank’s “Synthetic” kicks in and the warm reception turns ice cold in a matter of seconds, the fans stretching their vocal chords out to boo the former SWF World Heavyweight Champion as he emerges from the curtain, throwing two middle fingers in the air towards the Detroit crowd with a mean look on his face.  The middle fingers, of course, come back in full force as Duran walks down to the ring.

 

“And his opponent,” Funyon starts, “from Champaign, Illinois and weighing in at two hundred and sixty-eight pounds...he is THE NOTORIOUS JOHN DURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”

 

Hands reach for Duran too, but only to show Duran their defiant middle fingers.  Duran calmly walks past all of them, having said his peace as soon as he emerged from the curtain and now coming to wrestle and wrestle only.  Seeing that Xavier suddenly has his back turned to place his chain in the corner, the Notorious One rushes into tthe ring, sliding under the bottom rope and then quickly getting to his feet, slamming his arm into Xavier from behind, starting the sneak attack before Ced Ordonez can even react in time to call for the bell!

 

DING DING DING!

 

“Xavier has an almost sixty pound weight advantage on Duran, so it’s no wonder that John went for the sneak attack to start this match,” Comet analyzes with a hint of pity for Duran’s actions early on in the match.

 

Duran turns Nathan around to face the Notorious One and then begins to bury his big black boots into the midsection of Nathan, trying to kick him down as Ordonez orders Duran to get out of the corner or face the consequences.

 

Meanwhile, Riley doubts Comet’s earlier comments.  “I think it’s more complex then that, Comet.  Duran wants this match to be over as quickly as possible, because the longer Duran spends in the ring, the more he puts his neck on the line.  Every match could be his last, Comet.”

 

“I never really thought of Duran’s cowardness that way, Robert, but the fact that Duran’s neck could...fail...at any moment is certainly a very true statement.”

 

Duran finally heeds the referee’s warnings--however meaningless they are in a match like this--and brings Nathan out of the corner by his arm, and then forcing Xavier to the opposite corner.  Nathan bounces off the turnbuckles and staggers towards the center of the ring, as Duran runs forward from the other corner, running forward and catching Nathan right on the chin with a running forearm, knocking the big man down to the canvas.  As soon as the forearm hits, Duran comes to a stop, and then mounts Nathan, pounding away at his face with right hands as Referee Ordonez is once again forced to get in Duran’s face to tell him to get off Xavier.  Duran obliges immediately this time, backing off Nathan and throwing his arms in the air as if to plead his innocence.

 

“Citizen Duran is showing a little fury early on in this match, as he pounded away on Nathan there for a good amount of time before the referee was able to peel him off!”

 

“John Duran is more determined than ever to bring down a victory, whether or not Nathan Xavier is the legitimate opponent that Duran needs to get his shot at the SWF World Heavyweight Title!  And what is with this referee anyway?  Doesn’t he understand that the only way to win this match is by hitting your finishing move?  Did he not get the memo?”

 

After being reprimanded by the referee for his mounted punching, Duran completely disregards Referee Ordonez’ words and wastes no time in getting right back on Nathan, grabbing the back of Xavier’s head and bringing him back to his feet.  Once Nathan reaches a vertical base, Duran quickly buries a knee into the breadbasket of Xavier, holding onto his big frame and bringing him forward for another knee to the stomach as the Notorious One goes to work on the midsection.

 

“What a marvelous idea, Comet!  He’s working over that stomach of Xavier to get all of that wind out of Nathan’s system, making him more susceptible to any of the moves in Duran’s arsenal!”

 

“John is more focused than I’ve seen him in awhile, I think he recognizes the stakes that he’s put on the line here in this match, a match that he asked for, no less!”

 

A third knee brings Xavier down on all fours, and Duran backs away from the fallen body of Nathan, jumping in the air and dropping his leg across the back of Nathan’s neck, slamming him face first into the mat.

 

“See, Comet, normally Duran would go for a pinfall here, but he knows that this match is only going to end when he wrenches that neck of Xavier with the Blunt Force Trauma!”

 

“Yeah, we know the rules of the match, Robert,” Comet responds bitingly.

 

Duran gets right back to his feet, feeling the need for some rare showboating, asking the crowd “What do you think of him now?”  The fans had never truly ceased their booing, and it picks up now as they make sure that Duran can still hear fine with their deafening boos.  The boos begin to turn to cheers, however, as the fans notice that Xavier seems to have effectively shake off the early attack from Duran, and is looking to strike some blood.

 

“Duran, turn around!” Riley tries frantically to warn Duran of the three hundred plus pound surprise that will be waiting for him when he turns back around.

 

“He was focused up to this point, and now he’s about to pay for finally losing it to heckle these fans!”

 

Finally, Duran realizes that not all is how it appears, and he turns around...right into a hard knee into the chest from Xavier!  The Notorious One gets a taste of his own medicine as he is doubled over, only to be knocked over by a clubbing blow to his back from Nathan!  John gets to taste the mat himself as the cheers grow for Xavier, and a smile finally appears on Sasha’s face at ringside, cheering her man on.

 

“Nathan understands all about the importance of putting your opponent down early in a finisher match, and he seems to be doing a good job so far,” Comet commends.

 

“I guess one knee from Nathan goes a long way, eh Comet?” responds Riley, who is not the least bit impressed by the momentum turn.

 

Nevertheless, Duran is the one who is face down on the mat.  Xavier is not finished with him yet, however, and brings The Notorious One back to his feet, grabbing him by the hair and ignoring the referee’s pleas to not use the hair.  Nathan delivers yet another knee strike to the abdomen, sending Duran back into the turnbuckles.

 

“That’s the last place that Citizen Duran wants to be,” Comet assures the viewing audience.  “Nathan has that devastating avalanche in the corner that has been known to just crush his opponents, and it would certainly do the same to someone who is even as big as one John Duran!”

 

Nathan doesn’t try to crush Duran in the corner, but instead falls back and brings his right leg up, pushing his boot against the windpipe of Duran and cutting off his air as the referee is literally powerless to do anything about it.  The crowd eats it all up, despite it being a very illegal move on the part of Xavier.

 

“This guy is a fan favorite?” Riley asks in shock.  “How can a fan cheer for someone who just brutally chokes out his opponents like that!”

 

As if on cue, Nathan decides to show mercy and stop choking his opponent, as Duran wraps his hands around his throat and begins to hack and wheeze, trying to get some air back in his lungs after having it cut off by the sizeable boot of the big Nathan Xavier.  Sasha approves of the choking of John, and is even more pleased when Nathan decides to move to something a little bit more legal, putting his hands on either side of the turnbuckle and ramming his shoulders into the breadbasket of Duran!

 

“You’d think his weak point was his stomach by the way Nathan is just ramming those shoulders in there,” Comet notes.  “Nathan really should be going for the neck, as that will take Duran down faster, but I think he’s just looking for some revenge right now for earlier in the match.”

 

“What does Sasha Edwards see in that man!  She doesn’t even share his last name!  There’s something wrong with that relationship, Comet.”

 

“Oh, don’t start anything now, Robert, we know that you wouldn’t do anything about it if she came on to you with a sign on her back that said ‘Do Me.’”

 

Riley is taken aback by Comet’s frank comments.  “I think I need to go pray.”

 

While Bobby takes a look to the skies above, Duran is praying that the shoulder thrusts from Nathan will stop, which they finally do after a handful of crushing shoulderblocks incinerate the midsection of the Notorious One.  Xavier begins to toy with the former World Champion, grabbing him by the back of his jet black hair and shoving him face first out of the turnbuckle, humiliating John as he falls face first again, unable to break his fall due to the wind-sucking shoulder bursts in the corner.

 

“Citizen Duran is already sucking wind in this match, Robert!  I knew that he had some time off after that 13th Hour, but you’d think he’d be used to these big guys roughing him up since his return against Grand Slam Mark Stevens mere weeks ago!”

 

“It takes time to get back into the groove, Comet.  By the time Duran gets his shot at the World Heavyweight Title at Genesis, he’ll be ready to roll against whoever is at the top of the mountain at that time.  He beat Charlie Matthews, I think he can take someone the likes of Johnny Dangerous or...hell, even Toxxic!”

 

Duran is showing signs of movement, but Xavier remains on the offensive, bringing John back to his feet once again and then bending down to lift the Notorious One of his feet, pressing him above his head!  The crowd cheers wildly as they watch Duran flail above the strong arms of Nathan Xavier!

 

“Citizen Duran is no lightweight, but you wouldn’t know it from the way that Xavier is absolutely manhandling him right now!”

 

Nathan feels a little cocky and simply steps forward before dropping Duran behind him, landing face first again.  This time, John rolls on his back to hold his pain-filled face in his hands, getting roughed up by the big man and perhaps thinking that he bit off a lot more than he could possibly chew, especially with the recent losing streak.  Meanwhile, Xavier looks confident as he gives the thumbs up to the crowd and then to his wife at ringside, who is looking as cheery as ever with this recent surge of power taking down Duran.  Nathan begins to pick Duran up to his feet again, clubbing him in the back with his big forearms when the Notorious One begins to put up some resistance, not wanting to be on his feet again for fear of what Xavier might do next.  Before Nathan can get Duran to his feet again, John acts quickly and sends his arm low,

 

WHAM!

 

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

and sending an uppercut right to the lower nutsack region of Nathan Xavier!  The crowd is very displeased at such a powerful man being outsmarted by Duran, but sympathize his pain as Xavier falls to the mat and Duran rises to his feet slowly, still holding his face in pain from taking such a punishment.

 

“Sasha Edwards can’t be too happy about that,” Riley cackles, “I hope that they’re not planning on making babies anytime soon, because I think if they are, it might be time to whip out that raincheck!  Either that or Duran can give her a little loving after the show if her man can’t satisfy her.”

 

“Robert, that’s a terrible and unlawful thing to say!  How can you wish such things to happen to Citizen Nathan?”

 

“I guess I’m just a bad man, Comet.”

 

After turning the pace of the match with that one blow to the Xavier family jewels, Duran learns from his lesson and doesn’t bother showboating, instead taking his aggression out of the pain in his face and stomping away at the back of Xavier’s neck; cold, calculating strikes that hit their mark everytime!

 

“He’s trying to flatten his neck into a pancake!” Comet cries.

 

“Are those pancakes any good out west in California?” Riley once again releases an evil chuckle.

 

Duran moves from stomps to kneedrops, leaping in the air and slamming the knee on the back of Nathan’s neck, as some members of the crowd cringe at the sight of John’s kneecap contacting such a tender area.  After a couple more kneedrops, Duran finally begins to bring Xavier to his feet, ignoring the loud jeers of the crowd as he holds onto Nathan’s head, turning Nathan’s and his body so that they both face away from each other, and then sits out quickly, slamming Nathan’s neck into the shoulder blade of the Notorious One, as the crowd continues to boo vehemently at the former World Champion.

 

“And so begins the meticulous attack on the neck that Duran is now known for, Robert.”

 

“I’ve been waiting to see this all night, Comet!  The way he handles that neck with such precision, treating it as if it was a fine piece of china!”

 

“...That he was trying to break into a million pieces.”

 

“Right, right.  Million pieces.”

 

Duran swings his body around to the downed body of Xavier, quickly wrapping his hands around the throat of Nathan and beginning to clench his hand down on his throat, tightening his grip as Xavier wildly tries to break the choke, knowing that the ref can only plead with Duran to show some reason and realize that he cannot get a tapout in this match--not that he would get it in a regular match either, since the choking is most certainly illegal in every sense of the word.  John gets a strange look in his eyes as he whips his head up and makes sure Sasha is watching him choke the life out of his husband, who is currently clubbing away at John’s back.  Duran is driven to choke the hell out of Xavier, but a third blow to the back finally gets Duran to break the choke.  Duran quickly bends down and brings the fiesty Nathan back to his feet, grabbing his arm and hurling the big man across the ring to the  near ropes.  Duran immediately moves forward, slamming his arm into the neck of Xavier with a clothesline and sending him right over the top rope, as Nathan falls in front of the announcing table!

 

“Oh, and the action is going right out in front of us, as Duran has just dumped Nathan to the outside!” Comet...comettates (~) as the action begins to get closer and closer to his announcing position.  “Remember, fans, this match can end anywhere!  Duran can hit his finisher on the top of a car in the Joe Louis Arena parking lot, it doesn’t matter, because all it takes is that one move, Robert.”

 

“That’s exactly right, Comet, that’s what makes this match so dangerous and yet so winnable for Duran!  He knows hardcore; he doesn’t embrace it like he used to, but if Xavier’s going to get rough with him tonight, you can expect that he will be ten times as rough with the happy hubby.”

 

Nathan having tumbled to the floor, Duran goes through the ropes and jumps off the apron, getting in Xavier’s face and talking trash at him for awhile as the camera gets in nice and tight on Duran’s face jawing with Nathan.  Duran caps it off by slapping in Xavier’s face and then grabbing him by the back of the head and bringing him to his feet.  When Nathan is finally up, Duran wraps his arms around him, but it’s not in a friendly embrace, as Duran quickly lifts Xavier up, turning swiftly to his right and dropping Xavier down rudely with a sharply quick belly-to-belly suplex, slamming Xavier down back first on the barely protected ringside area floor.  John rises back to his feet after the move, craning his head around and noticing that Sasha is watching intently, hoping that his husband can find a way to fight back.  The Notorious One and Sasha finally meet eyes, and Duran gets that strange look in his eyes again.  Sasha’s eyes immediately widen in fear, noticing that she’s probably a little too close to Duran as she slowly begins to back away from John.  However, Duran is advancing faster, and by the time that Nathan’s wife begins to move a little faster, Duran has already caught up, grabbing her by the hair!

 

“Citizen Duran is a sadist!” Comet screams into his headset.  “This is just unacceptable!  He’s taken out Sasha Edwards’ husband on the other side of the ring, and now he’s going to do something terrible to Sasha herself!”

 

“She should have never been that close, Comet,” Riley disagrees, “she is a very non-confrontational person, but Duran has no bones about roughing up this woman!”

 

The crowd begins to heavily boo Duran as the Notorious One throws the thrashing Sasha into the ring!  The crowd is in shock as Duran quickly follows, and catches Sasha before she can crawl her way out of the ring.  John brings Sasha back to her feet, and then makes a throat-cutting signal with his finger, signaling that he’s going for the--

 

“BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA!” Riley squeals with glee, “this is going to be excellent, Comet!  Watch this and observe as Duran ends the finisher match in his own way...on Nathan’s wife!”

 

“Nathan’s not completely out!” is all Comet can say as he watches Xavier begin to crawl to his feet, catching his bearings as he looks over the apron and notices Duran assaulting his wife...and Nathan immediately springs into action!  Duran goes behind Sasha to lift her up onto his shoulders, as Nathan pushes Funyon out of his chair and grabs that chair!  Duran looks at the crowd showing their disapproval and then goes for the BFT...

 

..right as Xavier comes up and slams the chair into the head of Duran!

 

“What the hell is that Neanderthal doing,” Riley yells.  “Someone get that man into a straitjacket, because he’s gone nuts!”

 

The chairshot echoes in the Joe Louis Arena as Duran crumples to the mat and Sasha runs away quickly, scattering under the bottom rope and returning to the corner of his man as quickly as possible, breathing heavily as she just dodged a bullet thanks to her quick-thinking--and extremely strong--husband.  Nathan doesn’t relent, however, and continues to slam the chair into the body and head of Duran, swinging it up and down.

 

CLANK

 

CLANK

 

CLANK

 

The crowd is going apeshit as Nathan pulverizes Duran with the chair.

 

“Someone get that monster off Duran!” Riley demands to no one.  “He’s hit Duran with that chair more than a handful of times!”

 

After eight shots with the chair after the initial blow to the head, Nathan finally tosses the chair aside, breathing heavily and having gotten the anger out of his eyes.  Sasha still looks as scared as ever, but a hint of relief is crossing over her face.  Nathan quickly grabs Duran and brings John up to a vertical base, before putting his skull underneath Duran’s chin, wrapping his hands over the Notorious One’s head and dropping down quickly with a jawbreaker as Duran’s neck is forced back hard, creating a whiplash effect as he stumbles back up to a standing position, holding his neck in pain and leaning against the ropes.  Nathan then grabs Duran’s arm, pushing him against the ropes and then whipping him out...

 

...before bringing him right back in and slamming a clothesline into the neck of Duran, sending John right back down to the mat!  As soon as Duran hits, he escapes the ring by rolling under the bottom rope, holding his neck in obvious pain as he walks around the ringside area, fans taunting him and throwing middle fingers at him.  Nathan is unrelenting, however, as he leaves the ring and goes around to where his cast-iron chain is, grabbing that before advancing on Duran.  He wraps it around his fist, looking to unload a punch right into the kisser of Duran as he rounds the final corner and comes face to face with Duran...well, at least soon, as Duran has his back turned to Nathan.  The fans cheer and beg Xavier to just get it over with and suckerpunch Duran in the back of the head.

 

“He’s got that chain, Robert, and he certainly knows how to use it!”

 

“Duran has to know he’s there, Comet!” Riley says with a hint of doubt in his voice.  “If he doesn’t, then he’s in for some serious trouble!”

 

John finally turns around as Nathan comes forward, swinging his chain-covered right hand at Duran...

 

...but Duran ducks!

 

“Yes!” Riley triumphantly cheers.

 

Nathan’s momentum and his promixity to the ringpost sends his fist so far away from Duran that it crashes into the ringpost!

 

THUD

 

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Xavier’s hand immediately snaps back from the force of the punch and the immovable ringpost meeting.  Sasha looks worried after the hand-to-post contact, but stays across from the action as she still looks scared straight from the earlier attack from Duran.  Duran, meanwhile, rolls into the ring, keeping his eyes on Xavier as Nathan shakes the pain off his hand--and also the chain--and rolls back into the ring himself.  Duran isn’t honorable enough to let Nathan get to his feet, however, and stomps away at his defenseless body as it enters the ring.  Nathan is slowly getting to his feet, however, trying to not let the stompings affect him, so Duran runs across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and rebounding right back.  Duran puts his arm up for yet another clothesline....

 

...but Nathan stops him dead in his tracks by wrapping an arm around Duran’s neck, pushing him up into the air and sweeping out Duran’s left leg, dropping him down with a stalling STO!

 

“RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The fans are quickly rallying behind Nathan as Duran is showing no movement on the canvas.  Meanwhile, Nathan signals that this is the end of the match!

 

“Duran is going to face the Flatliner unless he comes to his senses soon!”  Comet notes, getting excited to see if Duran’s losing streak will continue.

 

The Notorious One is slowly getting to his feet, and Nathan speeds up the process by bringing him to a vertical base...

 

...right as Duran digs his fingers into Xavier’s eyes!  The crowd immediately boos at the perfectly legal eye rake, as Nathan stumbles about, dazed at his temporary loss of sight.  Duran grabs the near arm of Nathan’s and tries to whip him towards the turnbuckle...but Xavier reverses!  The fans are excited once again as Duran slams back-first into the turnbuckle, and Nathan regains his vision and backs up to the opposite corner before charging forward!

 

“He’s going for that big avalanche in the corner!” Comet happily decrees.

 

“No!” Riley disagrees, but the inevitable is coming.

 

Nathan is rumbling towards Duran, and finally looks to engulf him in the turnbuckle...but at the last possible second, Duran moves!  Holding his neck, he manages to escape from the turnbuckle as Xavier leaps forward and slams himself face first into the top turnbuckle, immediately sending him backwards...right into the waiting arms of Duran!  Duran bends over and grunts as he lifts Xavier off his feet and onto his shoulders!

 

“YES!  YES!  YESYESYESYESYES!” Riley screams orgasmically as Duran hoists Xavier up for the Blunt Force Trauma!

 

Sasha is begging for this match not to end this way, and Duran actually falters a step, almost dropping Xavier off his shoulders!

 

“He won’t be able to hit it, Robert, his neck is going to snap!”

 

“No it won’t, no it won’t!” Riley contends.

 

Duran finally lets out a scream and then whips Nathan’s legs out from behind him and comes down hard onto his backbone.

 

WHAM!

 

“BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA!  THAT’S IT!” Riley explodes as Ordonez turns to the ringkeeper and frantically calls for the bell to end this crazy match...and Duran’s losing streak.

 

DING DING DING!

 

The crowd is none too happy as Funyon announces the winner, still standing after losing his chair to the angered Xavier.  “Here is your winner, the NOTORIOUS JOHN DURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”

 

“What a convoluted sequence there at the end from both men,” Comet says, amazed.  “Nathan was looking for the big finish but he just couldn’t get it no matter how hard he tried, and one final mistake allowed Duran to capitalize for good and hit that Blunt Force Trauma!”

 

As Nathan leaves the ringside area with a still-bewildered Sasha at his side, Duran is kicking his legs up and down on the mat and holding the back of his head.  “John’s in pain, Comet,” Riley observes from his commentating post, and the referee raises Duran’s hand, but John quickly yanks it away, putting it back onto his neck as the camera gets a closeup of his pained face.

 

“Let’s go to break,” Comet quickly says.

 

Sure enough, but too suddenly, Storm goes to commercial break as medical assistants rush down the aisle and slide into the ring to tend to Duran.

Edited September 4, 2004 by Thoth

[Thoth 0]

“Welcome back, citizens, to SWF Storm!”

 

It’s September the third, and the thousands of fans in the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit, Michigan, are acting like it’s Christmas!

 

…unless they’re Jewish. Or Atheist. Or any other faith. But anyway.

 

“It’s been a heck of a night here in Motor City,” Comet continues, “but there’s still two more action-packed matches to go!”

 

“You know, Comet,” Riley chimes in, “I couldn’t be happier to notice that you decided to stop introducing yourself in that overblown manner.”

 

“Good observation, Bobbo,” Comet replies, “but I figure that since I’ve introduced myself a number of times tonight, there’s no use in doing it again. But I digress. Bobbo, up next we have what should be a tremendous exhibition in competition.”

 

“What, Maddix and Mask? Count me rather uninterested,” Riley harshly replies, “I mean, I respect Landon for not accepting Mark Stevens with open arms, and I respect The Masked Man…well, no, I really don’t. But hey, it’s a no-disqualifications match, so I’m hoping these two will be able to kill each other.”

 

As the commentators continue to discuss the harsh nature of Riley’s words, Funyon steps into the ring and begins speaking.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the Smarks Wrestling Federation INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP! In this match, there will be NO disqualifications!”

 

The lights go into a green strobe!

 

A beat! Another beat!

 

“OOH OOH OOH AHH AHH AHH!”

 

The music is familiar…it’s Morris Day and The Time’s “Jungle Love”! The fans pop for the music of the Purple Rain/Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back co-star, but they’re confused as to why it’s playing…until a familiar, masked silhouette appears at the top of the ramp!

 

“Introducing the challenger! From Craiova, Romania, but currently residing in Orofino, Idaho, weighing in at two-hundred and forty-three pounds, representing the URRRRBAN EMMMMMPIRE, he is THE MAAAAAASSSSSSSSKED MAAAAAAAAAAN!”

 

Mask begins dancing to the music, and the fans pop enormously! He continues to strut his way down the ramp, and once he reaches ringside, he runs and slides into the ring. Once up in the ring he peels his jacket off seductively, throwing it into the crowd for the fans to catch and/or fight over.

 

“PREPARE … FOR … LANDON!”

 

WAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

*DUM DUM!*

 

Incubus’ “Megalomaniac” erupts through the Joe Louis Arena, and the Detroit crowd, well, they give a good-sized eruption of cheers themselves! Maddix appears at the top of the ramp, Megan Skye at his side and ICTV Title belt around his waist! He walks down the ramp with Megan, reaching the ringside area.

 

“Now, introducing the champion! From Huron, South Dakota, weighing in at two-hundred and eighteen pounds and being accompanied by Megan Skye, he is the Smarks Wrestling Federation INTERCONTINENTAL-TELEVISION CHAMPION, he is LAAAAAAAAANDON ‘LA CUCARACHA’ MAAAAAAADDIIIIIIIIIIIX!”

 

Skye takes a spot at ringside, while Landon leaps onto the apron, running the length of it and leaping onto the middle rope, holding his arms out for the enthusiastic crowd. He then leaps over the ropes and into the ring, where he removes his belt. He locks eyes with The Masked Man, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of him, even as he hands the belt to referee Jefferson Harding. Harding shows the belt to Mask, to Maddix, and to the live and television audience, before handing it to the timekeeper and calling for the bell!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

The two men take a few steps forward, the crowd’s anticipation growing with each step. Finally, they lunge forward, into a collar-elbow tie-up! The stronger Mask easily overpowers Maddix, forcing him against the turnbuckle until referee Harding calls for a clean break. TMM obliges, giving the champion breathing room. As Landon dusts himself off, Mask cracks his neck impatiently. Finally, Maddix charges forward, and Mask lunges for another tie-up, but Landon ducks under this lunge and wraps his arms around him with a waistlock. The champion struggles to keep the hold on, but all TMM has to do is stand still; he’s stronger than his opponent. Masked Fury decides, instead of trying to fight it, to run backwards, sandwiching Maddix between his 243 pound frame and the turnbuckle! The Masked Man moves to the center of the ring and charges back at Maddix, but the much quicker cockroach is able to turn facing the turnbuckle, leap up to the second rope, and vault backwards, performing a moonsault over the charging Masked Man and land on his feet! TMM turns around in befuddlement, only to have Landon wrap his arm around Mask’s head and drop to his knees, flipping his opponent over with a side headlock takedown, keeping the headlock in tight once they hit the mat!

 

“And that sequence,” Comet begins, “just showcased Maddix’s new game plan – flashy style, with a hell of a lot of substance, too.”

 

“Comet, I wouldn’t exactly call a side headlock ‘substance’,” Riley replies.

 

It’s still much too early in the match to have a submission from a headlock, and Mask easily gets to his knees, and then back up to his feet. To escape the headlock, he fires two quick elbows into the gut of Landon, before backing up and firing him into the ropes. Maddix rebounds and TMM bends down, letting Landon’s momentum carry him UP and OVER with a BAAAAAAAAAAACK body drop…but Landon lands on his feet! The Sexual Maskosaurus hears this and spins around, swinging his arm for a clothesline…ducked! Maddix runs to the nearest ropes, leaps onto the second rope, and springboards off, spinning around and nailing Mask in the face with a flying forearm smash that takes him down!

 

“MAD – IX! MAD – IX! MAD – IX!”

 

“LET’S – GO – MASK! LET’S – GO – MASK!”

 

“We’ve got dueling chants early on,” Comet helpfully points out.

 

“I wish these fickle fans would just PICK someone,” Riley sighs, “you don’t have to be NICE all of the time.”

 

The Masked Man quickly pulls himself up to his feet, but the ICTV Champion stays right on him, nailing him with a forearm to the face! A second! A third! With Mask woozy, Landon leaps high into the air and shoots his legs out for a dropkick…but TMM sidesteps it! As soon as the cockroach crashes onto the mat, Masked Fury drives his elbow deep into his sternum, and then mounts the champion, nailing him with hard right-handed shots! After a barrage/flurry/assortment of punches, Mask dismounts his opponent and then walks over to the ropes, stepping between them and exiting the ring. He marches over to the timekeeper’s table and grabs his chair out from under him, folding it up and pounding on it for emphasis. As Landon climbs to his feet, he sees Mask with the chair, and decides to use the weapon against him. TMM climbs onto the apron as Maddix bounces off of the opposite ropes, running full speed…

 

 

*CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!*

 

 

…right into an ENORMOUS chairshot from The Masked Man, who saw Maddix out of the corner of his eye!

 

“Good GRAVY!” Comet exclaims, “That was one sick chairshot! MY head hurts after seeing that!”

 

“You didn’t even have to SEE that to know it hurt,” Riley agrees, “I think the sound of steel meeting skull is still echoing!”

 

The crowd gives a big “OOOOOOOOOOH!” to the chairshot, and even Mask looks surprised at the force, and at the champion lying motionless on the mat. He climbs into the ring and drops the chair, going over to Maddix and covering him for the first pin of the match!

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

A KICKOUT! The Detroit crowd roars as Maddix escapes the near-fall situation.

 

“Already a near fall this early in the match,” Comet notes, “we could be in for a HELL of a battle here tonight!”

 

Mask brings Landon up to his feet, before grabbing his wrist and whipping him into the turnbuckle! La Cucaracha hits with such force that he stumbles out of the corner. However, TMM stops this by charging forward, lifting his leg up, and nailing a big boot into Maddix’s chest that sends him back against the corner. With the champ cornered, the challenger reels back and nails him with a knife-edge chop!

 

*SMACK!*

 

“WOOOOOO!”

 

However, Mask shakes his head, realizing that a chop isn’t going to cut it. He instead pulls his arm back and nails a BIG right hand against Maddix’s forehead! And another! Another! Another! TMM hits the punches with such force and quickness, Maddix drops down onto his ass just to avoid anymore. Unfortunately, this doesn’t stop TMM, as he backs up to the middle of the ring and then charges forward, dropping down feet-first and hitting the champion with a baseball slide into his face!

 

“Our Sexual Maskosaurus is being uncharacteristically…” Comet trails off, searching for a word.

 

“Focused?” Riley finishes, “Comet, it’s obvious. He wants that Intercontinental-Television Championship, and with no disqualifications, he’s going to do whatever he can to win it.”

 

Mask brings himself up and walks over to the used chair, kicking it over to the center of the ring. He then walks back to Maddix and brings him up, standing behind him and trapping him in a waistlock. Lining the champion up for a collision with the chair, TMM hoists him into the air and falls back with a Romanian Suplex…but Maddix is able to flip over and land on his feet! As Masked Fury gets to his feet and turns around, Landon is able to grab the chair…

 

 

*CRAAAAAACK!*

 

…and give Mask a taste of his own medicine with a HYOOOGE chairshot! Maddix throws down the chair just as TMM collapses forward, so he smashes his face right into it! To add a bit of insult to injury, Landon walks over to the corner, and then runs towards the downed challenger, leaping into the air with his leg bent and nailing a perfect knee drop into the back of Mask’s head, into the chair! Landon rolls through with the move, and then turns TMM over, covering him as Jefferson Harding counts!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

SHOULDER UP!

 

“Maddix is doing the exact same thing,” Riley cheers, “and I love it! These guys know they’re going to have to beat pints of blood out of one another to win, so they’re ready to do it.”

 

“LET’S – GO – MAD – IX!” *clap – clap – clap-clap-clap*

 

“LET’S – GO – MAD – IX!” *clap – clap – clap-clap-clap*

 

The Joe Louis fans are loud for the champion, who takes Mask by the head and brings him up to his feet. He stuns him with two forearm smashes, and then runs behind him, towards the ropes. On the rebound, he reaches out and grabs TMM’s head, flipping over him and slamming him face-first into the mat with the throwback! The move, on top of the chairshot and punches earlier, has already taken its toll on the champion, and he doesn’t climb to his feet, but instead rolls towards the ropes, under the ropes, and to the outside of the ring. With the help of Megan he gets to a standing position, and then lifts up the ring skirt, looking for a weapon...and producing a trash can! Inside the ring, Mask uses the ropes to pull himself up, but Landon reaches out and grabs his leg, pulling it out from under him and sending him face-down onto the mat. He then pulls the challenger by the leg out of the ring and onto the floor, before surprising him with a trashcan shot!

 

*BAM!*

 

This sends TMM stumbling backwards, allowing Landon to place the can over Mask’s head! The challenger stumbles around blindly, and Maddix brings him over to the ring steps. With Maddix on the second step, he traps TMM (well, the trash can) in a front facelock, before falling back and nailing a big DDT on the ring steps!

 

*BANG!*

 

“These two warriors are throwing psychology out the window!” Comet exclaims, “this has just turned into an all-out battle!”

 

“’Just’?” Riley questions, “Comet, they’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning. This is SO much better than I expected.”

 

Mask simply rolls off of the steps and lands with a thud on the protective mats, but Landon stays on him, sending him under the ropes and back into the ring. The Sexual Maskosaurus gets to his knees and tries to pull the trash can off, but he doesn’t have enough time, as La Cucaracha reenters the ring and immediately runs forward, placing his boot on Mask’s knee and twisting his other leg around, nailing a shining wizard onto the trashcan!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOH!”

 

TMM falls back down to the mat and Maddix pulls the can off of him, pressing him down for a pin!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

“THR – NO!”

 

The Masked Man gets his shoulder up, much to the delight of the fans. La Cucaracha wants to end this NOW, though, and he picks Mask up, dragging him over to the turnbuckle. He stands up on the second turnbuckle and wraps his arm around Mask’s neck, calling for the Crash Landon! With an explosive blast of enthusiasm from the crowd, Landon vaults off, spinning through the air and coming down…

 

 

*CHING!*

 

 

…right into a knee to the balls! With Maddix doubled over in sheer pain, Mask is slowly able to trap him in a front facelock, hoist him upside down into the air…and DRIVE HIM DOWN WITH THE CAUTIONARY TALE OF SEXUAL MASKOSAURUS!”

 

The fans should be cheering. Instead, they’re booing. Loudly.

 

“Bobbo, that’s Spike Jenkins! What the hell is he doing out here?”

 

“I don’t care, Comet. He just made the match twice as interesting!”

 

Spike slides under the bottom rope into the ring and goes immediately for the Sexual Maskosaurus, who is on his knees. Jenkins blindsides him with forearms to the back of the head, and then brings him up by the mask. Holding him by the head, Hollywood runs towards the nearest corner and drives Mask’s head into the turnbuckle. As the challenger stumbles back, Spike runs to the nearest ropes and, coming behind Mask, he leaps forward and grabs his neck, falling forward for the Bad Beat…

 

 

…but he gets nothing but air, and he falls flat onto his back!

 

“But Bobbo, Landon Maddix and The Masked Man were having a great fight, why did Spike feel the need to interfere?”

 

“It’s simple – Mask is in the Urban Empire, Spike is in Revolution Zero. They hate each other. Spike is going to make Mask’s life a living hell, and cost him a title while he’s at it. Well, not right now. But he’ll recover from what just happened.”

 

Jenkins hops right up to his feet, unshaken, but Mask is waiting for him, as he wraps his arm around Spike’s neck and executes a sleeper hold, before running towards the corner, running up the turnbuckle and kicking off the top, spinning around and slamming Spike down onto the steel chair with the tornado sleeper slam!

 

“Incredible!” Comet exclaims, “Revolution Zero’s interference just backfired, and Spike just rode the Mask™!”

 

TMM kicks Spike under the bottom rope and out of the ring, and then notices La Cucaracha stirring. Looking to put him away for good, Mask brings him up and stands behind him, placing him in an inverted facelock. From there, he grabs a hold of Maddix’s tights and hoists him up, upside down, going for the reverse Cautionary Tale of Sexual Maskosaurus!

 

…but somehow, Maddix wriggles free of Mask’s grasp, dropping onto his feet harmlessly behind TMM! In an instant, Maddix laces one arm through Mask’s, trapping him in a half nelson before sweeping Mask’s leg out from under him, slamming him forward with a move known the world over as…

 

“THE JOKER’S WILD!” Comet cries, “Landon Maddix just used the Suicide King’s legendary finishing move on The Masked Man!”

 

“This is an OUTRAGE!” Riley exclaims, “this is one of the biggest acts of defiance against authority I’ve ever seen!”

 

“It’s been done before, Bobbo!”

 

“But not like this! Not with so much hatred between our illustrious Suicide King and the lowly Landon Maddix!”

 

Maddix, meanwhile, rolls Mask over, hooking a leg as Jefferson Harding, and the Joe Louis Arena, counts the pin!

 

 

“ONE!”

 

 

“TWO!”

 

 

 

“THREE!”

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“Megalomaniac” hits again, and the crowd erupts as Jefferson Harding helps Maddix to his feet and raises his arm in the air.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this contest,” Funyon bellows, “and STILL SWF Intercontinental-Television Champion, LAAAAAAAANDON MAAAAAAAAADDIIIIIIIIIIX!”

 

Now Megan Skye enters the ring, giving her cockroach a big hug. Landon looks a bit out of it, but as he’s handed his title belt, he holds it in the air and yells, “that’s for you, King!”

 

“Of course, if our Sexual Maskosaurus hadn’t been distracted by Spike Jenkins, we might’ve had a new ICTV Champion,” Comet notes, “but either way, this is a controversial ending to a no-disqualification match.”

 

“Rematch! I call for a rematch!” Riley cries, “That peon doesn’t deserve to be holding that belt. Actually, I don’t care who gets it, just take it away from him! He’s defaced the good name of the Suicide King!”

 

“Well, up next,” Comet shifts, “Toxxic will try to take out a legend in ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens. That’s out main event, and it’s up next on Storm!”

 

*FADE*

[Thoth 0]

We come back from commercials and the lights go out... there are several seconds of hushed silence that cause the crowd to become restless, but in spite of the clapping, talking, shouting and waving signs, they all know that it’s time for the main event.

 

*CRACK!!*

 

The crowd, simply put, explodes!

The crack of a bat and the roar of the crowd announce Grand Slam! It quickly fades into the opening bass of "Born Bad" and the SmarkTron lights up with baseball highlights mixed with big spots from Grand Slam's matches while flashing the words "Grand Slam", "Mark Stevens" and "The Heavy Hitter". The various multicolored lights flash in time with the rhythmic bass until the guitars crash in...

 

’BORN BAD!’

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

Abruptly the arena is flooded with bright white light while red and white pyro explodes at the top of the entrance ramp! When the smoke clears and everyone can see again, "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens is standing underneath the SmarkTron and the crowd erupts in even more cheers for the Heavy Hitter!

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is tonight’s main event, and is scheduled for one fall,” Funyon booms over the roar of the crowd and Steven’s music. “Introducing first, from Lincoln, Nebraska; weighing 301lbs, he is the former SWF Commissioner... ‘GRAND SLAM’ MAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRK... STEEEEEEE-VEEENNNSSSS!!”

 

As Funyon makes his announcement, the Heavy Hitter walks down the ramp slowly, savouring the cheers and pointing at various fans, slapping hands and keeping them screaming! Tonight, as the camera zooms in, he is wearing a Midnight Carnival baseball cap, and when the crowd sees this they cheer even louder, nearly drowning out his music! Grand Slam steps into the ring between the ropes and heads to a corner before climbing to the second turnbuckle, looking out at the crowd, and pumping his right fist into the air several times. This fires the crowd up even more and causes a flurry of flashbulbs to pop, illuminating the ring like a strobe-light! Before dropping back to the mat, Grand Slam flings his cap out to the crowd, giving some lucky fan a unique souvenir from the SWF, but once the cap is sent out and the music dies, his face becomes deadly serious. Grand Slam knows the scale of his task tonight, and he knows his opponent only too well.

 

“Citizens, we have seen Mark Stevens in the ring against some very tough opposition of late,” Cyclone Comet says grimly, “but I find it difficult to believe that they can get much tougher than his adversary tonight, especially since Toxxic is well-known to detest our former Commissioner.”

 

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Riley states simply, settling back in his seat.

 

Riley finishes talking and the Smarktron screen goes white as the opening chord of 'Rookie' by Boy Sets Fire crashes out over the arena. The screen darkens and as it hits black the familiar slogan flashes up one word at a time in jagged white letters:

 

'PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG'

 

As the guitar riff starts the black screen shifts and becomes the top of a spiky-haired head that raises and stares out with piercing grey eyes before a lopsided grin creases the right-hand side of Toxxic's face. The bass drum starts and clips of his matches flash up before moving onto footage of Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the four blast of red pyro that climb the entrance ramp before the final, stagewide eruption as the main riff starts-

 

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

 

-that signifies the arrival of the SWF's premier straight-edger! The smoke from the pyro starts to drift sideways across the arena, and Toxxic strides through with Jet at his side and the familiar lopsided grin on his face as he stares down at the ring where Grand Slam awaits.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“AND HIS OPPONENT!” Funyon bellows over the avalanche of boos that greet the straight-edger, “accompanied to the ring by Jet, from Nottingham, England; weighing 218lbs, he is the leader of Revolution Zero... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOOOOOOXXXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIC!!”

 

Toxxic rolls into the ring and stands in the centre for a moment or two, then just as the first verse is about to begin he throws his arms wide, palms down, and each turnbuckle explodes with more red pyro!

 

*bap-bap*

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

'I never thought this could be me,

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

Like all the fun turns into shame

And all the 'could-have-beens' rearrange...'

 

Mark Stevens simply stares at the Straight-Edge Sensation, who flashes the older man a cocky grin before stripping his shirt off and passing it through the ropes to Jet. Matthew Kivell calls both men to the centre of the ring and starts to instruct them in the rules, but neither one seems particularly interested. Finally Kivell gives up, backs away and calls for the bell.

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

Mark immediately drops back, setting himself for a high-speed attack from the straight-edger, but Toxxic simply grins wider, then walks to the ropes. As Stevens looks on incredulously Toxxic sits down on the second rope and lifts the top one up, then beckons to the Heavy Hitter and motions to the entrance ramp!

 

“What on earth is Toxxic doing?” Comet asks as Grand Slam simply looks bewildered.

 

“He’s offering Mark Stevens exactly what he doesn’t deserve,” Riley says, “a way to keep his dignity by bowing out now before he gets taken apart by the Hot Commodity!”

 

Mark is starting to catch onto the Straight-Edge Sensation’s meaning and his face reddens in anger. Toxxic continues to motion to the ramp, apparently in all seriousness... and Stevens loses his temper, striding over to the rookie and hauling him off the second rope, then starting to yell at him! Toxxic just stands and watches his former employer for a second, then-

 

*SMACK!*

 

-bitchslaps him!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Mark roars in anger and swings wildly at the Straight-Edge Sensation, but Toxxic easily ducks under the blow and dodges behind the bigger man. Grand Slam starts to turn to follow him, but Toxxic drives a basement dropkick into the side of Stevens’ surgically-repaired knee and the former Commissioner crumples sideways, hanging onto the ropes to prevent himself from falling while his face contorts in pain. Meanwhile the rookie heads for the far ropes, rebounding off them to pick up speed and heads straight back at the struggling Grand Slam at full speed before leaping into the air...

 

...but now Grand Slam does drop to the canvas, looking to evade Toxxic’s attack...

 

...and Toxxic balances on the top rope for a second and then backflips back into the ring, landing on his feet and flipping a V-sign at the prostrate Heavy Hitter!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Well, Toxxic has certainly kicked his ego up into overdrive tonight,” Comet fumes as Mark starts to clamber to his feet, determined to get his hands on his cruiserweight tormentor. “I can’t wait to see Grand Slam Walk him Off!”

 

“You know, Stevens should be more concerned about his heart rate than Toxxic,” Riley says with fake concern. “We don’t want him busting a blood vessel just getting up, do we?”

 

Mark finishes getting to his feet, only to find Toxxic stifling a mock yawn at the time it took him! Truly angry now, Stevens lunges forward in an effort to grab the offending straight-edger and choke the life out of him, but Toxxic easily evades him again and slips behind him once more. However, no matter how angry he is Mark Stevens is still a quick learner and he doesn’t try to turn quickly this time; instead he allows his momentum to carry him on to the ropes where he turns and catches himself, only to see Toxxic getting up from another basement dropkick attempt that found itself with no knee to target.

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

The Joe Louis Arena is coming to life in support of one of the SWF’s legends, and Mark raises one arm to acknowledge them without taking his eyes from Toxxic. The Straight-Edge Sensation cracks his neck from side-to-side, then nods in appreciation of his opponent’s quick thinking at evading the dropkick and moves in, apparently looking for a lock-up. Grand Slam’s face shows the scepticism with which he views this, but the knowledge that getting in close will allow him to use his considerable strength advantage means that he complies and lunges forward. Unfortunately for the Heavy Hitter Toxxic simply snares his right arm and uses his speed to go behind him and twist the limb up in a hammerlock. The pain of the move is increased by the fact that Grand Slam’s right elbow is the one which has a little ligament damage, and this may explain why Stevens is a little slow to use his greater technical expertise to counter out of the move. The extra second’s delay allows Toxxic to set himself, then he releases his grip and wraps his hands around Grand Slam’s forehead before sitting out with the Underkill!

 

*WHAM!!*

 

The back of Stevens’ skull crashes into the canvas and the former Commissioner grabs his head in pain as he struggles to rise back to his feet. He knows that Toxxic will already be setting something else up, but he doesn’t know what until a shape dives off the top buckle behind him and flies headfirst over him, trapping his head between its legs as it goes and taking Grand Slam over with a diving headscissors! The Heavy Hitter is rolled across the ring by the move and comes to rest in a sitting position, a predicament that he quickly tries to escape by twisting over onto all fours to push himself up-

 

*SMACK!*

 

-but Toxxic comes out of left field with a basement dropkick to the Slammer’s temple! Mark is knocked over onto his back by the force of the impact, and Toxxic scrambles to cover his fallen foe...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but Mark kicks out with authority, boosting Toxxic’s 218lbs clean off his chest! Again he goes onto all fours to try and push himself back to his feet, but this time Toxxic dives over his shoulders and brings him over with an Oklahoma Roll...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...to no avail, as the Heavy Hitter kicks out again. Before Stevens can get up however, Toxxic is on him again and fastens a sleeperhold around the neck of the big man!

 

“A curious choice of tactics by the so-called Straight-Edge Sensation there,” Comet muses. “Toxxic isn’t known for his technical expertise, and someone with Grand Slam’s ability could quite easily counter out of that...”

 

Indeed, the masked man’s predictions are borne out in short order as it only takes a few seconds for Grand Slam to adjust his positioning in Toxxic’s inexpert grip and then use his leg strength to force his way up to his feet. Toxxic gamely hangs on, but Mark has the bit between his teeth now and he wraps his arms around the straight-edger’s waist before hoisting him up in a backdrop that drives his opponent’s back into the canvas!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Christ, it’s only his first offensive move of the match,” Riley mutters, “no need to go crazy.”

 

Mark shakes his head in an effort to clear it of the recent abuse, then focuses on the cruiserweight now laid out on the mat beside him. Grand Slam knows that he needs to soften Toxxic up for the Walk-Off, and quickly, but right now it would probably make more sense to damage his legs a bit and take away some of his speed advantage. With that in mind the Heavy Hitter gets up and takes hold of Toxxic’s legs, looking for the Figure-Four Leglock, but as he makes the first twist and leans down to apply it the straight-edger reaches up and grabs Grand Slam’s head to take him over in a small package!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stevens kicks out again, but Toxxic immediately rolls away and scrambles to his feet to prevent Mark from attacking his legs again. Grand Slam is determined not to lose his advantage and charges at the Straight-Edge Sensation as Toxxic recuperates in the corner, but the rookie dodges to one side and Mark slams into the turnbuckles chest-first instead! Toxxic then grabs the rebounding former Commissioner and whips him across the ring to the far corner; however, halfway through Mark reverses the momentum and sends Toxxic in instead. It is the work of a moment though for Toxxic to vault lightly up to the top turnbuckle and come flying back at the Heavy Hitter, twisting in midair to deliver the diving clothesline known as the Role Reversal! Both men hit the canvas at the same moment and skid a couple of feet - then Toxxic’s legs coil up under his chin, and the straight-edger kips up explosively!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Wonderful!” Riley exults as Detroit shits all over the leader of Revolution Zero. “Face it Comet, Grand Slam is getting owned by Toxxic in there!”

 

“As long as Toxxic sticks to his high-flying game, I’d have to agree,” Comet sighs. “However, it was noticeable that the moment the rookie tried something more technical, Citizen Stevens was able to turn the tables.”

 

“So Toxxic sticks to flip-flopping around the ring and avoids sleeperholds,” Riley snorts, “it’s not exactly complicated tactics, is it!”

 

Grand Slam is struggling to his feet again, but Toxxic quickly grabs his opponent’s head and drives it down into his knee-

 

*CRUNCH!*

 

-before placing Stevens in a front facelock to complete the Sobering Thought with a DDT, but Mark desperately bridges backwards with a Northern Light Suplex!

 

*BANG!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Toxxic kicks out but the straight-edger looks rather rattled and winded, and Mark doesn’t allow his opponent to get back up first by simply reaching round when still on all fours and dealing the rookie a hard right hand! Toxxic sprawls across the mat again and Grand Slam has time to rise to his feet, then bend down and lock both arms around the straight-edger’s waist from behind. Stevens hauls Toxxic to his feet in a rear waistlock, then bridges backwards and throws Toxxic over his head with a German suplex...

 

*whump*

 

...but as he so often does, Toxxic flips through the move and lands on his feet! Mark struggles to rise back to a vertical base as the rookie charges back in-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-and not only succeeds, but catches the charging Straight-Edge Sensation and hammers him down to the mat with a good old-fashioned spinebuster!

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

Mark blows out his cheeks - he still isn’t used to moving this quickly again - but he drops down to cover the rookie once more, and Kivell drops to make the count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but Toxxic kicks out, and the Joe Louis Arena sits back down in disappointment. It’s going to take more than that to put Toxxic away, but Mark Stevens has an idea of what he can use. The Heavy Hitter pulls Toxxic back up to his feet... then places the Straight-Edge Sensation in a standing headscissors!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“WALK-OFF!” Comet yells in delighted anticipation. “Close your eyes and think of England, Toxxic!”

 

But despite the impact of Grand Slam’s last few moves, Toxxic isn’t anywhere near battered enough to be taken out by a move very similar to one of his own, not to mention the fact that he has this lasting aversion to moves that involve a double underhook ever since his rivalry with Nathaniel Kibagami. So as Mark hooks Toxxic’s left arm up with his right one the rookie fastens his own right arm firmly around Mark’s left leg at the knee, hooking and pulling with all his might. Stevens staggers and reaches down to club Toxxic in the back, but Toxxic manages to squirm his other arm free from the Slammer’s grip as well and starts to stand, taking Mark’s left leg with him. Now without a solid base, Grand Slam wavers precariously for a moment before Toxxic sweeps his other leg away with his own, then grabs both of Mark’s legs and jacknifes over him into a pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but even though the breath has just been blasted from Grand Slam’s lungs, the Hall-of-Famer isn’t going down that easily and he kicks out again, although with less power than before.

 

“Well Citizens, Toxxic certainly seems to be interested in going for the quick pin tonight,” Comet observes with some surprise. “I would have thought that he would want to make our former Commissioner suffer, but perhaps the humiliation of defeat is all he intends to inflict.”

 

“There is no humiliation in being defeated by Toxxic!” Riley argues vehemently. “For shame, Comet!”

 

Toxxic slips away through the ropes as Mark starts to get to his feet, and with his opponent having disappeared the Heavy Hitter can only turn on the spot, looking for him... unfortunately for Mark, he only finds Toxxic when the rookie springboards off the top rope at him, wraps his legs around Stevens’ head and takes him over with a hurricanrana! Mark lands on the back of his neck but the momentum of the move allows him to quickly rise back up to his feet, where Toxxic snares him in a rear headlock and drops to one knee, driving the other into the back of the Heavy Hitter’s neck! However, when Toxxic tries to haul Stevens up for the second part of the Detoxx Grand Slam’s weight and the high-impact moves dealt to Toxxic’s back foils him, and he is forced to let the former Commissioner drop to the mat somewhat anti-climatically. Nevertheless, Mark is still down and Toxxic steps through the ropes to the apron before raising three fingers over his head.

 

“Toxxic is really using his speed advantage here,” Comet notes in dismay. “In fact, I’m not sure if he has stayed on the mat for more than about thirty seconds tonight!”

 

“Why hang around trading punches with a hoss when you can fly through the air?” Riley asks.

 

“Only heroes can FLY~! Robert!”

 

“Shut up.”

 

In an attempt to prove Cyclone Comet wrong, Toxxic vaults to the top rope...

 

...to the turnbuckles...

 

...and corkscrews back through the air into the Hangover, dropping one leg right across Mark Stevens’ throat! The former Commissioner spasms on the mat, and Toxxic hooks the leg...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

-but Stevens still kicks out, and Toxxic is starting to look ever-so-slightly frustrated. He deals with this by straddling Mark’s chest and beginning to rain down right hands, while Stevens vainly tries to cover up and Kivell first warns the inattentive straight-edger about the closed fist, then begins his count.

 

‘ONE!’

 

‘TWO!’

 

‘THREE!’

 

‘FOUR!’

 

‘FI-’

 

Toxxic ceases his attack just before the disqualification mark and rolls off his opponent, who is now bleeding from the nose. Kivell backs the rookie up and warns him about his behaviour but Toxxic blows the official off and advances on Mark Stevens, grabbing him by the head and hauling him up before firing off a standing dropkick to the former Commissioner that staggers him back into the corner. Without pausing the Straight-Edge Sensation charges in, leaping into the air to catch Mark with a leg lariat across the chest and neck and managing to land on the apron as he ricochets off the Slammer’s powerful frame. For his part Mark wobbles out of the corner, and Toxxic slingshots himself back into the ring from the apron to hook the Heavy Hitter around the shoulders and take him down with the Radford Roll!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRR-

-but Mark kicks out!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

Toxxic is looking less and less happy by the second, but he hauls Stevens up and whips the bigger man into the corner again, then charges in after him. Mark steps out and raises one boot, looking to catch Toxxic in the head, but the straight-edger ducks under the blow and springs lightly up to sit on the top buckle as he reaches the corner. Grand Slam turns and charges in himself, looking to surprise the rookie and knock him down to the outside, but Toxxic’s raised boot finds its mark (as it were) and the Heavy Hitter is knocked round 180 degrees by the impact. From there it is a simple matter for Toxxic to reach forward and apply a reverse headlock, then swing out of the corner and drive the back of Stevens’ skull into the mat with the Final Shine tornado reverse DDT!

 

*BANG!*

 

The Joe Louis Arena has been quietened very quickly, but the support for Grand Slam is palpable as Kivell drops to make another count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Toxxic is furious this time, and he pops back up to his feet to remonstrate with Kivell in no uncertain manner. The cockney official mouths back at the Straight-Edge Sensation, clearly not intimidated by this eyelinered twat from the East Midlands, and after a few seconds Toxxic flips Kivell the v-sign and turns back to his opponent to finish the job. Grand Slam has managed to push himself back up to one knee, his eyes unfocused...

 

...and as Toxxic reaches out for his head, the Slammer lunges forward and buries his shoulder into the rookie’s gut!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Low blow! Low blow!” Riley shouts in outrage.

 

“How can it be a low blow?” Comet asks incredulously. “He hit him in the stomach!”

 

“I didn’t say how low!” Riley snaps.

 

Toxxic is doubled over and wheezing, but even through his rattled skull Grand Slam knows he only has a few seconds. However, that veteran manoeuvre might have just bought him the time he needs... he rises to his feet and positions himself behind Toxxic, then threads his arms underneath the Straight-Edge Sensation’s into a full nelson position. Detroit has a good idea what’s coming next, and they rise to their feet in anticipation...

 

*BANG!*

 

Dragon suplex...

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

*BANG!!*

 

Full-nelson drop...

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

*WHAM!!!*

 

GRAND SLAM!

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“Citizen Stevens just hit the Triple Play!” Comet erupts in delight as Mark collapses sideways while Toxxic lies facefirst down on the mat, non-moving. “Those three moves can beat the toughest competitors in the business, and despite his relative lack of offence so far Grand Slam can surely win this now! All he has to do is cover Toxxic, and this could be over!”

 

“Could be, Comet...” Riley says tensely, “could be...”

 

Mark Stevens pushes himself back up to a sitting position and leans forward to roll Toxxic over onto his back. The rookie looks to be out, but Grand Slam’s veteran instincts kick in anyway and he makes sure to hook the leg before leaning into the cover to put all of his recently-gained weight onto Toxxic shoulders...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“He kicked out!” Comet gasps in dismay as the Straight-Edge Sensation just, just squeezes a shoulder off the canvas. “Grand Slam hit the Triple Play, but Toxxic still kicked out!”

 

“‘Could be’, Comet, ‘could be’” Riley shouts, “not ‘will be’! Toxxic’s still in this, and you’d better believe that our fat, out-of-shape sleazebag of a former Commissioner is going to need something better than that to put him away!”

 

Mark Stevens just look up in disbelief at Matthew Kivell, who shrugs and looks apologetic but can’t make his count faster even for a legend like Grand Slam. So the Slammer heaves a sigh, and starts to push himself up once more. It looks like he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

Stevens takes Toxxic by the waist of his baggy trousers and lifts the dazed rookie up into a standing headscissors. The Joe Louis Arena starts to buzz again, thinking that they might be privy to the Walk-Off, but Stevens isn’t willing to risk that again; not yet, not until he’s quite certain that Toxxic won’t be able to counter out of it, because he hasn’t got much left and if Toxxic manages a reversal now it could be curtains. So he wraps his arms around Toxxic’s waist and hoists him up bodily, looking for a powerbomb, but at the apex of his trip Toxxic seems to come to his senses and begins desperately hammering right hands down at Mark’s face! The former Commissioner relaxes his grip, trying to shield himself from his opponent’s attack, and Toxxic abruptly ceases his assault to lock his legs tight around Grand Slam’s neck and snap backwards to send the Heavy Hitter skidding across the ring on his head and neck!

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

“GRAND SLAM!” *clap-clap-clap*

 

The chants are still growing in volume but they’re sounding more desperate now, and as Mark struggles to pull himself up on the ropes he knows they have good reason to. Two years ago... hell, six months ago... he’d still have enough left in him to keep going at this point. But those days are gone, possibly never to return, and perhaps most importantly Mark knows that he doesn’t want them to return. He’s happy with his family, out of the ring. But nevertheless, he’s here, and he owes it to his legacy to keep trying.

 

So ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens rises to his feet one more time, turning to face whatever the world throws at him.

 

*WHAM!*

 

Which happens to be a European uppercut, courtesy of the Straight-Edge Sensation.

 

*WHAM!*

 

Toxxic’s lack of baseball knowledge means he didn’t appreciate the Triple Play all that much, apparently.

 

*WHAM!*

 

Stevens staggers back as another blow crashes into his jaw, and now Toxxic changes up his attack to something a little more quick-fire before Mark gets himself together and begins to hit back...

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

...the straight-edger steps back, flips the V-sign at Mark Stevens and whirls around on the spot to deliver the Discus Clothesline...

 

...and Mark slaps his hand around Toxxic’s throat before hoisting him off the mat for a chokeslam!

 

“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

 

*CRACK!*

 

“-ooooooooooooo....”

 

The Joe Louis Arena see Toxxic hoisted into the air, but then they see him lash out and kick Mark Stevens in the jaw. They see Steven’s grip slip as his arm jerks back instinctively, and they see Toxxic spin and twist in midair to take the Heavy Hitter over with an armdrag. They see his own momentum carry Grand Slam through the move, coming up to his feet while facing the turnbuckle, and they see Toxxic run past him, snaring him in a 3/4 facelock on the way.

 

And they see Toxxic run up the turnbuckle and flip back over Mark’s head to finally come down behind him and drive his skull into the mat with the Intoxxication.

 

*WHAM!!*

 

Toxxic isn’t taking any chances. He hooks the leg, and rolls into the cover with everything he’s got.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The Joe Louis Arena is on its feet, and they are not happy at what they’ve just seen. Mark Stevens gave his all, but in the end the main triumphant was the last man that anyone in attendance tonight wanted to see with his hand raised in the air.

 

“Grand Slam struck out!” Riley laughs in delight as Matthew Kivell raises Toxxic’s arm in victory while ‘Rookie’ blares out over the arena PA. “Toxxic gets his revenge, and what a glorious day this is!”

 

“If Grand Slam had been in his prime, this match might well have ended differently,” Comet says sadly. “As it was- where’s Toxxic going?”

 

The Straight-Edge Sensation has rolled out under the ropes and brushed past his girlfriend to approach the announcer’s position. Funyon hastily moves, and Toxxic picks up a steel chair which he folds up before re-entering the ring, and approaching Grand Slam.

 

“Ah, the exclamation point on the evening,” Riley says. “How very fitting.”

 

A dazed Mark Stevens has managed to roll over onto his front and has started to slowly push himself up. Toxxic stands over his fallen adversary, raises the steel chair high in the air and...

 

*CRACK!!*[/b][/b][/b]

 

...brings it down on the canvas right in front of Mark Steven’s head. The noise causes the Heavy Hitter to jerk groggily back, and he looks up to investigate the cause. As he does so, he sees Toxxic looking down at him with a lopsided grin on his face and a thumb and forefinger held an inch apart, plainly telling the former Commissioner that he could have smashed his skull in... if he had chosen to.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“These people are booing!” Riley says in disbelief. “Would they have preferred that Toxxic had hit him!?”

 

The straight-edger turns away from the Slammer and heads for the exit, having made his point... but Mark Stevens isn’t going to take an insult like that lying down. Rage gives the big man an extra impetus and he surges unsteadily to his feet before reaching out and grabbing Toxxic’s arm, spinning the rookie back to face him. Toxxic looks surprised that Grand Slam is back on his feet so quickly, but surprise quickly fades into a sneer as Mark begins berating the arrogant straight-edger. Toxxic’s response is lost in the din of the arena, but Mark apparently doesn’t like it and shoves Toxxic in the chest. The leader of Revolution Zero shoves back, making a far less noticeable impact on the heavier man, but Mark is really angry now and he draws back his right hand-

 

*CRACK!!*

 

-and this time, the chair doesn’t hit the canvas. Instead, it slams straight into Grand Slam’s right knee.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“CRIMINAL!” Cyclone Comet roars. “The match is over!”

 

Toxxic isn’t done, and he aims for Mark’s head this time.

 

*CRACK!!*

 

Stevens hits the mat, and Toxxic simply throws the chair away and starts stomping the living daylights out of Grand Slam as Kivell calls repeatedly for the bell, with no effect.

[Thoth 0]

Toxxic delivers yet another stomp to the prone form of Grand Slam. Finally, after a good set of rib stomps, he winds up and delivers a hard toe kick right to the ribs of the Heavy Hitter.

 

Comet: This isn't right! After the match these two had, it shouldn't end like this!

 

Riley: The heck you say! This is exactly the right way to end it! Grand Slam needs to learn a lesson, and Toxxic is just the guy to teach it!

 

Toxxic bends over and says something to Grand Slam, then stands up and makes a wiping motion with his hands as if to say "Lesson learned, and I wash my hands of it." The Straight Edge Sensation then turns and heads to the ropes, to bask once more in the hatred of the fans. Behind him, Grand Slam is crawling, dragging himself to the side of the ring. Once there, he motions towards the timekeeper's table. Funyon, eternally abused by ninety percent of the wrestlers here, nods his head, stands up and slides his chair into the ring to the Heavy Hitter!

 

Riley: What the hell is he doing Comet? Funyon shouldn't help anyone!

 

Comet: In the service of Justice, Funyon will help his friends! Grand Slam is one of the few guys here to treat our erstwhile ring announcer as more than a mike stand or a ring accessory!

 

Riley: Two do-gooders helping each other cheat... what a message to send to the youth of today!

 

Grand Slam uses the ropes and the chair to push himself slowly to his feet. Once there, he starts the long walk across the ring towards Toxxic, who is still standing on the second turnbuckle, arms out, palms flat, head hung low in one of his patented taunts of the crowd. On the outside though, the oft-neglected Jet is paying attention. In her crisp, clean voice, she yells out to Toxxic, causing him to turn just as Grand Slam gets within striking distance! Toxxic doesn't waste movement at all. In one fluid motion, he leaps off the ropes, twists in the air and delivers a hard, crushing blow with both feet to the chair, causing it to ricochet back into Mark Stevens' face!

 

Riley: CLANG!! My God! I have been waiting for years to do that!

 

Comet: Grand Slam is in bad shape Robert... that chair caught him flush on the face!

 

The aforementioned chair flies out of Grand Slam's hands and lands outside the ring. Stevens, meanwhile, is staggering about the ring, both hands over his face. Toxxic maintains his superior, cocky attitude as he shakes his head, runs back, bounces off the ropes, runs and drops into the Soccer Slide, taking Grand Slam's feet our from under him! The big man falls flat on his back, both hands flopping out away from his face...

 

Comet: Oh no! It looks like he may have broken his nose Robert! There's blood everywhere!

 

Grand Slam rolls to one side to keep the blood from rolling down his throat as Toxxic pops up on the other side of him. Toxxic shakes his head, obviously annoyed and sad that his lesson needs to continue. He pulls back his foot... the crowd boos him lustily... he stomps down hard... right on Grand Slam's face!

 

Comet: That's not right! Grand Slam may be seriously injured and Toxxic is continuing to lay in the punishment!

 

Riley: I think it is pretty darn obvious how he feels about doing it though. It's too bad Grand Slam is too thick to have learned his lesson the first time!

 

Comet: I think that villain feels just fine about it Robert!

 

Toxxic pulls up his foot again... pauses dramatically for the crowd to boo him... then delivers another face stomp! But what he hears now doesn't please him! The boos are turning to cheers! He turns to look at the stage...

 

And sees Megan pulling Landon Maddix out from behind the curtain!! He proceeds reluctantly, obviously tired and sore from his match, until he sees the massacre in the ring! He waves Megan backstage, then charges down the ramp towards the ring!!

 

Comet: Maddix is here!! Landon Maddix is here to save Grand Slam!!

 

Riley: Are you sure? Maybe he's just here to go after Toxxic! Or maybe he's here to pick apart the corpse!

 

Toxxic kicks Grand Slam one more time for good measure, then settles in a ready stance, waiting for Maddix! Landon slides in the ring and pops to his feet... with the chair!!

 

Comet: He grabbed the chair on the way in!

 

Riley: That's illegal! He should drop that right now!

 

Toxxic realizes too late that Landon has a weapon, and his dodge is just that much slower than Maddix's swing!!

 

::CRACK!!!::

 

Toxxic hits the mat hard, both hands on his head as the rest of Revolution Zero runs out from backstage, Jet screaming at them to hurry! Davis and Jenkins make it to ringside just as Maddix is winding up for another swing at their leader!

 

Riley: Hurry you nincompoops!!

 

As if they could hear him, Davis and Jenkins each grab a leg and quickly pull their fearless leader out of harm's way and help him, slowly, back up the ramp!

 

Riley: Now we get to see Landon Maddix's true colors!

 

In the ring, Grand Slam is struggling to stand while Maddix gives Toxxic the evil eye as the Straight-Edger makes his way out of the arena. Finally Maddix turns arouns, chair still in hand and glares at Grand Slam. The Heavy Hitter finally manages to get to his feet, attempts a smile at his savior, then extends his hand.

 

Riley: Here we go! Grand Slam is going to get waffled with that chair again!!

 

It is clear that Maddix is considering his options as the crowd starts to cheer, hoping to see these two men, bound by their mutual hatred of the Suicide King, becomes allies! Maddix looks around at the crowd and sees many pro-Landon signs. Grand Slam takes a shaky step forward, extends his hand again and says, "Thank you."

 

Maddix nods, drops the chair, and clasps Grand Slam's hand! The crowd goes insane! The two gladiators stand there, locked in a handshake as the fans raise a cheer that dusts the rafters!!

 

Riley: You have got to be kidding me!!

 

Comet: Don't you ever get tired of being wrong Robert?

 

Riley: One of these days, I'm going to get it right! One of these days I'm going to call a swerve and Bam! there will be a swerve!

 

Comet: Perhaps someday, but for tonight we are all satisfied you are wrong as "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens and Landon Maddix appear to be on the same page! Thank you for joining us Ladies and Gentlemen... and we will see you on Wednesday for SWF Lockdown as we move one step closer to Rebirth on the Road to Genesis V!! Goodnight!

 

The camera lingers in the ring as Grand Slam finshes the handshake, drops to his back and rolls out of the ring on his way to the back, leaving Landon Maddix to bask in the massive cheers and standing ovation he earned by his actions tonight. On his face, the camera catches just a hint of a smile...

 

Fade...

[Thoth 0]

The Storm has blown over, the show has ended and Alex Zenon, beleagered Commissioner of the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation, sits quietly behind a battered wooden desk signing off on the last few pieces of paperwork he has to take care of before he can leave the arena.

 

Suddenly, his door opens and a large man shambles into the room and drops into the one chair in front of the desk. His face is a wreck. His left eye is swollen and blackened and there is a cut that is seeping blood on the outside of the orbit. His nose is swollen and bruised and there is dried blood caked in his moustache and goatee. His lip is swollen and cut and his forehead has a fresh bandage on it, pinpricks of blood starting to soak through. Through all of that, Z still recognizes the man. he is "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens, former Commissioner and fellow Carnie.

 

Z: Mark... are you...

 

GSMS: Ok? No Zed, no I'm not. I've been getting my ass handed to me for the better part of a month now thanks to King. Tonight was just the topper on the cake.

 

Z: I already said I'm sorry. I wish I could take it back.

 

GSMS: I know Z. You said that before, and I believed you then, and I believe you know. But there was something else you said... you said that you'd make it right. So now I'm asking... no, forget that... Alex Zenon, I am begging you to make it right.

 

Z: What can I do Mark? My hands are tied, you know that. I may be Commissioner, but King is still my boss.

 

GSMS: You have to play his game, play to his ego. You want to make this right Z?

 

Z: You know I do.

 

GSMS: Then listen to me. This is what I want...

 

Fade out to the SWF Logo...