SWF Storm

[Thoth 0]

The SWF logo flashes across the screen, and instead of going through the opening graphics we are brought right into the middle of a packed Dublin Arena! There is only a second to see the capacity crowd before the house lights drop, and the trademark volley of blue and white pyrotechnics signal the beginning of another SWF Storm!!

 

BOOM!!!

 

BOOM!!!

 

 

SHAKALAKABOOMBOOM!!!!!

 

The houselights turn on, and we see a throng of screaming Irish wrestling fans! The camera zooms in on a few of the proudly held signs; alas, those chosen seem to be written entirely in Gaelic. Sorry, home viewers. However, those that drew pictures seem to be using a common motif that implies that Toxxic = Horse's Ass.

 

As the Storm theme picks up once more the camera returns to the announce desk and our very own heterosexual lifemates, Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley! Comet clears his throat...

 

"Hello, and welcome to SWF STORM! We are coming to you live from the Dublin Arena, here in the cradle of Irish culture! We have another packed house here as we continue our European tour, and I and all of the SWF personnel would like to thank all of the great English fans who made Ashes 2 Ashes such a success!"

 

"Too right, Comet!" Riley adds. "We are fresh off the heels of a momentous evening that will go down in history! A momument of bloodshed, brutality, and bloody-mindedness that have set a new standard for our PPVs! Between the Hardcore Title match, the vicious ICTV match, and the epic Hell in a Cell match, it was truly a night for the sadist in us all!"

 

"And don't forget the other great matches, Robert! Toxxic broke the curse last night by successfully defending the World Title at a PPV! Two... or maybe three of our greatest veterans returned as Sacred and Silent and some guy named Ghost all came back and made an immediate impact! It was as if the card was made by some sort of mad genius!"

 

"How could I forget?" Riley exults! "It was the night in which the age-old question was answered! Evil triumphed over good! The Suicide King proved once and for all everything and anything he might have done over the past four years was worth it, because it led him to victory over Grand Slam!"

 

"You poor, deluded little man."

 

"Whatever. King won, and Grand Slam is gone forever! His legacy is no more! He failed when it was most important, and King was right, absolutely right about everything!"

 

Comet shakes his head sadly at his partner. "I think you underestimate our fans, Robert. They won't remember Mark Stevens' final loss. They'll remember the months and years that he went all out for their entertainment, in the belief that there is a right way and a wrong way to succeed in this business!"

 

"The fans are chumps, and so are you."

 

Before this stunning dialogue can continue, the houselights drop once more...

 

"ALL ABOARD! AH HAH HAH HAH HAH!!!"

 

The crowd instantly erupts into boos in Pavlovian fashion as the second most-hated man in the federation (be fair; Toxxic is a limey heel) announces his presence.

 

Riley chortles! "And here he is now!"

 

As the guitars kick in, a wall of crimson pyro bursts from the stage! As the crowd's eyes readjust to the darkness they miss something that the people at home don't. Behind the wall of pyro... is nothing. Seconds pass. The crowd, once regaining it sight, waits in confused silence. Finally, after what seems like an eternity for live television, the curtain parts... and out comes the man who once might have been recognized as the Suicide King. The crowd's instinctive heat dies off for a moment as the behold the wreckage of a man begin its slow journey down the entrance ramp.

 

Supporting himself one crutch, the Gambling Man hobbles down the entrance ramp as the crowd begins to recover and return to its previous disrespectful jeering. King's face looks as if it has been used as a jogging track by Olympic sprinters... one large bandage covers a significant chunk of the left side of his forehead, but more prominent is the wicked gash over his right eye, some 2 and 1/2 inches in length, that had to be closed with staples. Some of the skin on his cheek is still an angry pink from its encounter with a firebrand. His right eye also shows the fading signs of a wicked shiner, but that is nothing compared to the large bulk under the right leg of his dress pants that indicates only a industrial grade knee brace is allowing him to move with the aid of a crutch. His short sleeve polo shirt allows easy visibility to the large wrap around his elbow, and his fingers and wrists are covered with enough tape to outfit a Cub Scout troop as mummies on Halloween. It would be no exaggeration to say that there isn't a part of King's body that doesn't hurt, and as he finally arrives at ring side and throws his crutch under the bottom rope his pained motions manage to extract a small but vocal respect cheer from some diehard fans.

 

Comet's voice lowers. "He may not look like a winner, but the fact remains that King defeated Stevens. But was the price worth it? He is moving like he aged 40 years in a week!"

 

"I am sad to say you're right, Comet. King endured extensive injuries in the match," Riley notes sympathetically, "But the real damage is under his shirt. King's back suffered permanent muscle damage, and he will never, ever be able to move around the ring like he once did."

 

King tries valiantly to get into the ring under his own power, but his knee and back conspire to keep him from stepping between the ropes. Swallowing his pride, he gestures to Funyon who quickly sits on the ropes and aids the King of Hearts through and into his ring... the two men share a quiet word for a moment before Funyon hands off his microphone and leaves without incident. The Suicide King takes several moments to gather his breath and collect his thoughts. As the camera zooms in, the expression on King's face is haunted, reminiscent of those unhappy few who have looked into the abyss for just a little too long.

 

King raises the microphone to his lips, and manages a small smile. "Hello, everyone."

 

A rather respectable waves of heat emanates from that small and inoffensive comment, which prompts King to smile just a little bit wider. It just as quickly fades though...

 

"So... I take it that most of you saw Ashes 2 Ashes. You saw the end of whatever there once was between between Mark Stevens, my former mentor and greatest enemy, and myself. And you are angry, and sad. Angry, that I won. Sad, that you will never see Mark Stevens in the SWF again."

 

King's hair is nearly blown back by the volley of boos.

 

"And believe it or not, it really is never this time." King's face becomes solemn. "I was... very thorough. I'd had enough of this before. We'd done this dance. So the lawyers, at my insistence, performed as if the hounds of hell were at their heels. Stevens can never work for the SWF again in any capacity. He can never promote our merchandise. He can't sign autographs at our shows. He can't work for any of the companies our parent corporation holds interest in. He can never reopen the Bases Loaded Training Camp. He is gone, dead and buried. Yes." King takes a thoughtful pause. "I was very thorough, before the match."

 

"Not that he would come back, even if he could. He went into that match for a reason... a reason I didn't understand. I don't understand why you all cheered him, even after he lost. I don't understand why he had to fight. I knew why I had to... I had to show everyone that I was right, that Stevens used, abused, and neglected me when I was his friend. That everything I had done to him and everyone else was justified because of the tremendous success I achieved once I left the Carnival."

 

"I don't actually remember the last half of the match. I had to watch it on tape at the hospital the next day, but all that night and morning as they ran their tests I knew in my heart that it was true. That what everyone was telling me had happened had in fact happened. I had won, finally, even though to this moment the only image of it in my mind is from that tape..."

 

King pauses, swallowing hard once more. "That damned tape."

 

"That night I was in more pain than I have ever been before. But I have never been as happy as I was then. I was... at peace. I had achieved my life's goal. I popped in the tape to watch what would become my memory of the event. Like some of you, I went right to the ending, so I could see it for myself. And this is what I saw..." King turns to the SWFtron.

 

Grand Slam kneels down next to the ring, throws up the ring apron and starts digging around for something. In the ring, King rolls to the corner opposite Grand Slam, trying to create as much distance between him and his foe as possible while making the familiar "O" face of masculine pain. Finally, the crowd nearest Grand Slam lets out an almighty cheer which spreads as the rest of the fans in attendance see what plunder Grand Slam has found buried under the ring. Standing slowly, he raises his right hand high aloft; in it he is holding a baseball bat... a very special baseball bat...

 

Riley: No... this is beyond the pale! After everything that has happened...

 

Comet: That's the Spark Hardcore Special bat! He's about to go old school on the Suicide King!

 

Indeed, the weapon being raised is a Louisville Slugger baseball bat. But this one is wrapped in some sort of cloth, then wrapped again in razor wire! In his left hand, Grand Slam has something else... something small...

 

Riley: You have got to be kidding...

 

He raises his left hand to the bat and flicks his thumb... a spark... then a flame! the crowd is going funky-monkey-banana-boat-in-your-living-room-for-high-tea-"Would you like a crumpet with that" insane! As Grand Slam pulls himself up to the ring apron and carefully steps between the ropes, King is in the opposite corner, pulling himself up slowly, being careful to keep his back to the approaching Heavy Hitter.

 

Comet: What's happening?

 

Riley: King's hiding something! The Gambling Man has yet another ace up his sleeve!

 

As Grand Slam starts to stalk across the ring, King also comes out of the corner. The crowd continues cheering, rattling the rafters of the arena. Grand Slam winds up and swings... AND SO DOES THE SUICIDE KING!!

 

Comet: Oh no!!

 

Riley: King has the Ace of Clubs!! He's got an equalizer!!

 

Both blows land hard, Grand Slam's flaming brand blasting with dizzying force into King's blood-and-sweat-soaked face and snapping his head hard to one side! King's wild swing with the black Ace of Clubs goes higher, connecting painfully with the side of Grand Slam's head right beside his eye! Grand Slam falls to the side immediately, coming to rest on his back, obviously dazed and confused! King remains standing for a moment, weaving uneasily...

 

Riley: Oh my God!!

 

Comet: Oh no!! Not like this!!

 

Then he loses his fight with unconsciousness! King teeters and falls back first right on top of Grand Slam, then rolling to the side, their broken bodies perpendicular to each other!

 

Soapdish drops to the mat as King's arm remains fallen lightly across Grand Slam's chest!

 

The crowd once again counts along!!

 

 

 

 

One.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

Riley: He did it!! King did it!!

 

::DING DING DING::

 

Funyon: The winner of this match by pinfall... THE SUICIDE KING!!!!

 

King turns into the boos of the crowd, smiling a pained smile. "See? I had won. And by definition of the match, I had won clean." King chokes up for a moment, looking for all the world like someone just told him his dog had died. "So I went back to watch the rest of the match."

 

"It was good. It may have been one of my best. Mark and I threw everything we had at each other, and long after our brains stopped working our bodies kept going. In spite of the pain, in spite of the injury, we wouldn't stop. We couldn't. It had to be done. Neither of us could go on, only being half a man, only being one side of the coin."

 

"And then I made it to the end game. The sequence just before the end..." King's face just... shatters. "And I saw."

 

"I saw this."

 

Grand Slam raises the mutilated chair to the heavens like a trophy and the crowd just goes ballistic, sending their energy towards Grand Slam like a palpable wave and the veteran fan favorite, possibly the most popular man in the history of the SWF eats it up, pumping his fist in the air and stomping his feet. Meanwhile, the ref is checking on King and looks very worried. Finally, having gotten the adrenaline flowing again, Grand Slam walks over to King and grabs his hair, pulling the smaller man to his feet.

 

Comet: Oh my God...

 

The crowd gasps as they see the puddle of blood left on the mat. King's face is quickly covered in bright red, sticky blood.

 

Comet: Good God... that chairshot has just opened the Suicide King up. He is bleeding profusely from another wound on his head!

 

Riley: Good Lord, they're even competing to see who can bleed more...

 

Comet: What was that?

 

Riley: Nothing... nothing....

 

Grand Slam sees the crimson mask and is stunned for a second, but doesn’t hesitate long, pulling the wounded Gambling Man into a standing head-scissors, hooking the arms... jumps in the air...

 

::WHAM!!::

 

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

 

Riley: This has to be it Comet! King is a great wrestler but there is no way he can get out of this one!!

 

Grand Slam seems to have all of the energy drain out of him as he rolls King over and falls across his chest... Soapdish drops to the mat!

 

The crowd counts along!!

 

 

 

One.......

 

 

 

 

Two........

 

 

 

 

ThrNO!!!! The Suicide King manages to get his foot on the bottom rope just in time to break the count! The crowd is cheering everything now, just amazed that both man have pushed themselves this far. Grand Slam props himself up and stares at the zebra, simply holding up three fingers as if to ask, "Are you sure?" Soapdish nods his head and Grand Slam rocks back on his knees, hanging his head, wondering what in the hell he has to do to finally put King away once and for all.

 

Comet: What is King running on? It isn't pride, it isn't principle! What is keeping this villain conscious, much less alive? And did Soapdish just make a costly mistake by counting a rope break in a no DQ match? I may have to dig out my SWF rulebook, but I am not sure that flies.

 

Riley: The ref is is the only authority in that ring, Comet, and you can't question his call until this is all over! Still, I can’t believe it Comet! All those years of training are keeping King in this match despite what his body is telling him!

 

Comet: I'm not sure that is for the best right now though... King is losing blood once again, but this time at an absolutely sickening rate!

 

King just stands there, silent. One hand cradles the bridge of his nose, maybe the only facial feature unpunished from the match...

 

"The ropes saved me. My ring instinct took over, and I put my foot on the ropes."

 

"The ref has final say, in any match. Of course. We all know this."

 

"But there's something I know too. I know, that even from way back in Stubby's day, that in no DQ matches there are no ropebreaks. What would be the point? You can't be DQed for it. And a Hell in a Cell is the most vicious and brutal no DQ match we have ever devised. So, ropebreaks don't break submissions."

 

The Suicide King stands there, his face drained of color, his hands shaking. The crowd goes silent, sensing that something momentous is about to be said.

 

"Ropebreaks don't break pinfalls."

 

"In that one moment, it all came crashing down. Everything I had ever done. Everyone I had beaten, injured, forced to retire, bribed, abused, tricked, usurped. I was left alone, in a hospital bed, a broken man for the first time since I was admitted."

 

"Soapdish made a mistake. Stevens had me dead to rights. I couldn't have kicked out, not after that many chairshots and a second Walk-Off. I was beaten. I kept watching, and I saw the end of the match where my arm was raised. I was announced the winner. And it all meant nothing now."

 

"I thought back to the people I had sacrificed to achieve success. So many... too many to remember. My friends and enemies. Edwin, and Chris. Thugg, and Magnifico. Stubby. Neilsen. Flesher. Z. And Mark. Always Mark. I had to brutalize him and betray him in a thousand different ways a thousand different times. The man who brought me into the business, who taught me everything I thought I knew. For three years I have stomped down anyone who could challenge me and threaten my growing power, even to this day with people like Landon Maddix."

 

King sighs. "And it was all for nothing. Mark stood there and was cheered for failing. FAILING. Even though he succeeded, in his moment of greatest heartbreak he stood there and he thanked all of you, as I was limp and broken on the mat. He went back to the locker room, and back there no one treated him like a loser. I won, in the middle of the ring, and later learned it was a lie. And it occurred to me then that there was nothing left for me to do, since I had achieved my life's work."

 

"Well, I was half right. There is nothing left for me."

 

King looks into the camera, a shell of his former self. "Mark. You were right. You were right about everything. You never held me down. You were just waiting for me to stand. And when I stood, I turned my back on everything you and I held dear. And now, three years later I understand. You are at home, with your wife and family, well-respected by your peers, loved by the fans. I stand here, in the ring, in the business you taught me to love. And I turn and look around, and I can't remember why. And I was so close..."

 

"I thought I was doing what I had to do, to get ahead, to help the business, to raise our federation to the heights it was capable of. And to do so, I became everything that is wrong with wrestling. You were right, Mark. You were right about everything."

 

"I'm... sorry."

 

King powers through, without waiting for an audience response.

 

"I know. Apologies are useless, not after what I've done. I can't change any of it. I know what the best thing left for me to do is... and I'll do it."

 

"Once I make sure that all outstanding issues are settled, that those who I have taken advantage of have had their chance... then I'll leave. Forever. I had my chance at the business I loved, and I blew it. In the end, the house won."

 

King stands there, a small smile playing at his lips as a tear rolls down his cheek. "The house always wins."

 

"Time to leave the table, and see what life is like outside. But before I go, I have to divest myself of my interest and make sure the place can make it without me. I... think it can. And I think it will be better than ever."

 

King looks outward into the audience once more, as they sit there in awkward silence. He opens his mouth, closes it... opens it once more, and shakes his head. Dropping the mike, King lays down and slowly and painfully rolls out of the ring. Making his way up the ramp with his crutch, King doesn't appear to hear the small and hesitant clapping that some fans are attempting. King turns at the stage and inclines his head once... as we go to commercial.

Edited November 13, 2004 by Suicide King

[Thoth 0]

A cloud of white fog lifts slowly from under the SmarkTron

 

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

 

A fountain of white pyro’s explode from the entranceway as a familiar tune

Blasts over the speakers at the Dublin Arena

 

LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR

LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR

LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOOOOOOORRRR!!!!

 

~pop~

 

A slight crackle is heard as a flicker is seen on the SmarkTron. Suddenly the image of Carnage appears on the screen. A harsh, raspy voice is heard speaking in dull monotone in the background.

 

“They say I am a monster” he begins as the image of Austin Sly being Tombstoned flashes over the screen.

 

“They say I have no soul… no conscience!” the voice continues as the image cuts to Andrea Montgomery being Tombstoned.

 

“But I am not the monster that I have been portrayed to be” he states as the screen flicks to a grainy news reel style footage of Carnage being released from the Oakdale mental institution. A group of reporters hurry in with camera’s in an effort to get comments from the medical personal, but are waved off before Carnage is escorted off the grounds…still restrained in a straight jacket.

 

“I spent nine long years in a mental institution against my will. I was subjected to countless indignities by the so-called medical professionals. They claimed I was mad!”

The voice exclaims as a still image of a newspaper article on Carnage joining the SWF flashes over the screen.

 

“So they released me to the care of a state approved guardian. A man who they felt would help me work my way back into mainstream society…a man they would refer to only as name withheld!”

 

The name with held remark echoes several times as the camera zooms into the news clipping line about Carnage being released to the care of a state appointed Guardian (name withheld)

 

“What they didn’t realize was my guardian would be able to find a place for me. The only place a man like me could ever truly fit in…”

 

The screen flashes to the SWF Logo, then to Carnage winning the Hardcore Gamers Championship.

 

“And what they could never have realized was that this man was a former manager for the SWF. An evil genius who would take me farther than I dreamed possible even under the influence of the strongest medications”

 

The screen flashes with the image of Carnage winning the chance of a lifetime match to become the number one challenger for the SWF Worlds Heavyweight Championship

 

“And now only one man stands between me and my destiny…one undersized wrestler will attempt to deny me my birth right…the SWF Worlds Heavyweight Championship…and that man…is…”

 

The screen cuts to a recent Toxxic introduction. The Straight Edge Sensation is seen standing in the center of the ring in all his glory

 

“Toxxic”

 

The camera flashes a blurry collage of brutal attacks and after match beat downs courtesy of the SWF resident psychopath.

 

The camera cuts to a shot of Carnage sitting in the back of a limo and someone giving him a pen to sign a contract.

 

“With my SWF title match guaranteed, my guardian finally consented to manage me in my SWF endeavors.

 

An eerily familiar voice is heard in the background as he hands Carnage the pen

 

“Sign here” he says and the camera zooms into Carnage signing the contract.

 

The camera stops at a medium shot of Carnage…still adorned in his straight jacket…sitting at a table and speaking directly to the camera. He is of course still wearing his mask, but the intensity in his eyes is brutally visible.

 

“Toxxic…I hope you take me lightly…I hope you underestimate me…because soon we will meet in the ring…and I promise you, I will not be denied.”

 

The light fades from the SmarkTron as SWF Storm goes to break.

[Thoth 0]

“Ladies and Gentlemen…the following tag team contest is scheduled for ONE FALL with a sixty minute time limit…”

 

The voice of Funyon greets viewers as the commercial break ends, but before he can continue the fully lit arena is dropped down and into hues of blue as a rhythmic acoustic riff explodes into high octane rock and roll, bringing the first competitor out from behind the curtain…

 

“Introducing first…from Saint Louis, Missouri and weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds… AUSTIN SLY!!!”

 

“Welcome back, everybody and this looks like it’s going to be a fun fast-paced match-up as the man you see before you, Austin Sly, is teaming up with the Kaine to take on the venerable Andrea Montgomery….” The Cyclone Comet suddenly trails off as the crowd reigns down boos on Austin, causing his face to twist into a smirk.

 

“Say it! Say it! Montgomery and Mike Van Siclen! I know you are thinking it, Comet!”

 

“...and her partner...the Ghost. We have all heard the reports that the masked man could very well be the Spectacle himself, but there has of yet been NO confirmation, Robert.”

 

“Who else could it be? Did you see the look on that punk Todd Cortez’s face at Ashes to Ashes! And don’t forget Van Siclen being his usually cocky self after the match! We all saw it!”

 

As Riley and Comet continue to bicker, Austin Sly hits the ring, barely getting to his feet before the ominous “Feuer Frei” hits the loudspeakers and Kaine steps out into the same blue light, mocking the crowd as he comes down the ramp, raising his hands in victory to a resounding chorus of boos and jeers.

 

“And his partner…from Kassel, Germany…weighing in at one hundred and ninety one pounds… KAAAAAAAAAINE!!!”

 

“Kaine may be smaller than your average wrestler, but the young gun sure packs a punch, doesn’t he Robert?”

 

“Stop changing the subject!” Riley retorts quickly as Kaine rolls into the ring and moves toward Sly, the two shaking hands before turning their attention back to the entranceway, just in time to be nearly blinded by bright green pyro, and nearly deafened by the fans around them as “Just A Girl” hits the PA System.

 

First through the curtain comes Zutroy, but his feisty sister is right on his toes, her energy feeding the crowd and causing their cheers to become louder and louder with each passing note. Funyon is nearly drowned out.

 

“And now their opponents…introducing first, she hails from Biloxi, Mississippi and weighs in at one hundred and forty five pounds soaking wet… ANDREA MONTGOOOOOMERY!!!”

 

“All that talk about Kaine and Andrea, a former number one contender, comes out to lower the bar!”

 

“Oh, Robert, you are just upset because she looks better in a dress than you do…” The comment from the superhero causes a shifty eyed look from Riley.

 

“Just shut up…just shut up! We’re about to see that coward Mike Van Siclen!”

 

“I highly doubt that…”

 

Andrea stops at the bottom of the ramp, cautious of stepping into the ring. She may be tough, but two-on-one situations are bad news no matter what. All of the sudden, familiar words ring from oblivion.

 

“I’m head of the class…I’m popular…”

 

RAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!

 

The crowd explodes as Nada Surf’s “Popular” piques up, causing the arena to cheer wildly and nearly cause Bobby Riley to jump out of his seat.

 

“I TOLD YOU ALL! HE’S HERE!”

 

But Bobby’s celebration is cut short as the music is abruptly cut, only for the camera to swing from the entranceway just in time to catch the masked figure enter the back of the ring right through the crowd, taking down Kaine with a quick forearm shot to the back. The crowd begins to cheer once more as Funyon makes a hasty exit and the referee calls for the opening bell…

 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

 

Austin Sly immediately jumps to his partner’s aid, pulling the Ghost off his feet and turning him around and into a front facelock, but at Sly tries to pull the masked man off his feet he is caught from behind by Andrea Montgomery, who leaps into the air and plants her feet right between his shoulders. The impact sends Sly forward as the Ghost lifts up, holding Austin in the air before turning and driving him down hard into the canvas.

 

The Ghost stands to his feet and raises his hands high in the air, causing another explosion from the sold-out Irish crowd…but the referee has seen enough. As Austin Sly rolls toward the apron, the referee admonishes Montgomery and her masked partner, until finally the Ghost steps out of the ring, slapping the turnbuckle and turning his attention to the crowd as Andrea moves in on the now recovered Kaine.

 

“Finally, Van Siclen did not waste any time cheating in this match and he is lucky he did not get his team disqualified!”

 

“Sometimes the element of surprise is all that stands between a victory and a defeat, Riley.”

 

“So you are advocating cheating! Justice seeker my left eye!”

 

Riley continues to attack Comet as Andrea and Kaine lock-up in the center of the ring, with the slightly larger Kaine getting the advantage, pushing Andrea down and turning her into a headlock, but the feisty Montgomery fights out, pushing forward and sending Kaine into the ropes. As the young rookie comes flying back, Montgomery ducks down to the canvas, only for Kaine to slide to a stop and turn his body as he falls, driving his elbow right across her neck.

 

“See, Robert…the element of surprise!”

 

Andrea clutches at her neck and tries to get back to her feet, but Kaine stays on her, standing and jumping into the air, bringing his knee down across her neck and rolling forward, somersaulting up and to his feet…

 

…and right into the corner of the Ghost.

 

“Uh oh…”

 

Kaine takes a look at the masked figure, and even though his eyes are covered everyone can see that they are locked in each other’s gaze.

 

“What’s going to happen he—WAIT!”

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

NOOOOOOOO!!

 

“Why that despicable wench!” Riley exclaims, “trying to cheat her way to victory with that roll-up!”

 

“I do not see how that is cheating Robert, as Kaine should have kept his eyes on his opponent in the ring.”

 

“Could you do that with Van Siclen on the apron ready to pounce at any given moment, just like he did at the beginning of the match!!”

 

Kaine is quite the angry German as he stands to his feet and meets Andrea head on, both of them clashing into a tie-up. Kaine takes the advantage once again and whips Montgomery into his corner, pinning her there with his foot before tagging in Austin Sly, who happily jumps in and pulls Andrea out of the corner and into the ring, making sure to give the Ghost a quick glance over his shoulder before lifting Montgomery up and over his head, holding her in the air…

 

“Now that is some power, Comet. He’s just toying with her!” Riley laughs as Sly does a quick half turn and falls to the canvas, driving Andrea’s body into the mat.

 

THUD!

 

Austin quickly turns and falls on top of Andrea, hooking her leg and pulling it back as the referee drops down for the count…

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

Th-NOOOOO!!!

 

“Andrea Montgomery kicks out, and just look at her partner and brother on the outside!” Comet yells as both the Ghost and Zutroy try to rally the crowd behind Andrea, all of them chanting and stomping wildly.

 

“LETS GO DREA LETS GO!

LETS GO DREA LETS GO!”

 

The crowd continues to chant as Austin pulls Andrea to her feet and immediately hooks her into another front facelock, wrenching the neck as hard as he can. Every time she tries to fight back, Sly wrenches it a little harder, causing her to flail and push and do everything to try to escape, but just as she is about to get free, Sly falls backwards, lifting the femme fatale slightly and driving her straight down onto the top of her head. Another quick cover….

 

One!

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Thr—BROKEN UP!

 

The Ghost hits the ring, driving his knee into the back of Austin’s head, bringing Kaine into the mix as well. The referee tries to keep order, but just before Kaine can make contact with Ghost, the masked man steps back, raising his hands in innocence.

 

“I told you, Comet! Look at that coward!”

 

The referee gets between them and pushes Kaine toward his corner, but just as he turns his back the Ghost goes back on the attack, sending his foot into the side of Sly’s head once more, the kick bringing Kaine back into the center of the ring as he nearly pushes over the referee, but the Ghost is too quick, and hits the outside before the Untouchable can catch him.

 

The referee once again tries to restore order, yelling at Kaine to take his place on the apron and then turning toward the Ghost on the outside, who continues his plea of innocent until proven guilty as he climbs back up into his corner and clutches the tag rope, overzealously motioning for Andrea to make a tag, but Austin Sly is recovering as well…and sits in her way.

 

With the two on their knees they dive at each other, but Andrea twists her body at the last second, doing a full three sixty only a foot off the ground, causing Sly to miss her by inches and crash into the mat. With the crowd’s pitch growing closer and closer to fervor, Andrea dives for her corner…

 

SLAP!

 

 

…and the tag is made!!

 

RAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

 

The Ghost hops over the top rope and into the ring, meeting Austin as he gets to his feet with a hard knee to the chest. Austin falls back, but the Ghost grabs him by the wrist and turns his body, tossing him back into his corner. Ghost heads to the other side of the ring, waving toward the camera and giving the fans at home a quick thumbs up before turning back and rushing toward his corner, but before any contact is made Sly comes bursting out, stretching his arm out and looking for a clothesline, but the Ghost ducks out of the way!!

 

“The agility this mystery man has shown at Ashes to Ashes and even tonight could very well make whomever it is underneath that mask a very gifted competitor here in the SWF for years to come!”

 

“Listen to yourself, acting as if Mike is some sort of rookie just cause he is wearing that stupid mask!”

 

“Just doing my job, Robert…” Comet replies as Austin turns back to face the Ghost, only to take another hard knee to the stomach. The shot doubles over Sly, and the Ghost immediately takes advantage, hooking him into a front facelock and falling toward the canvas, spinning his body a full half-turn and catching Austin by the hair, driving him down into the mat with everything he can.

 

SMACK!

 

“Did you see that, Comet! Tell me you just saw the Code Red!”

 

“Well, I can not lie and say I didn’t just see that…”

 

“That proves it, Van Siclen is toying with you, me, the fans, and everyone in the back by coming back after his…forced…retirement!”

 

“Oh calm down, Robert…you only wish he would toy with you!”

 

“I SAID SHUT UP!!”

 

The fans around the arena continue to cheer as the Ghost stands to his feet and spins around, looking in every direction as the cheers turn to nothing but three simple letters…

 

“M-V-S! M-V-S! M-V-S!”

 

“See…even the fans here in Ireland, drunk as they might be, know that it’s Van Siclen!!”

 

The masked man gives another quick thumbs up the crowd before pulling Austin Sly to his feet and tagging his partner back into the match. She springs on to the top rope while Ghost gets low (Despite no Lil’ Jon being played at all), sweeping Austin’s legs out from under him as Drea leaps off, nailing Sly with a dropkick.

 

“What good team work from Ghost and Andrea Montgomery! Beautiful leg sweep and dropkick combination,” Comet states.

 

“Are you kidding! That was blatantly illegal! In flagrante delicto!” Riley bellows.

 

“Fragrantly delicious?” Comet asks, having never taken high school or college Latin.

 

“No, it means in the commission of the act! They did it right in front of the referee’s eyes! Were Kaine and Sly to perform such an act, I’m sure you’d be clamoring for their immediate disqualification!” Riley shouts.

 

“Perhaps, but you’d be applauding their ingenuity,” Comet replies.

 

“Oh come on! IT’S VAN SICLEN UNDER THAT MASK!” Bobby cries.

 

Drea gets to her feet, pulls Austin up as well, and whips him to the ropes. As he bounces off, Sly reaches out and barely grazes Kaine’s hand. Local referee Seamus Rahim O’Horrowitz sees it and declares it a legal tag, something that goes unnoticed by Andrea Montgomery. She runs towards Sly who drops, forcing her to leap over, right into a springboard cross body block from the Teuton tumbler. Sly quickly scrambles to his feet and exits the ring while Kaine hooks Andrea’s leg and the ref slides in to count.

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Thre--NOOO!

 

“Andrea barely got a shoulder up after that cross body from Kaine! Well, Bobby, aren’t you going to condemn Austin Sly and Kaine for use of a double team move?” Comet inquires.

 

“Of course not! It wasn’t a double team at all! Andrea Montgomery wasn’t paying attention and didn’t notice Kaine become the legal man. It’s not his fault she wanted to attack Austin Sly. They simply took advantage of an opportunity. Stuff like that is the marking of a true competitor and a future champion,” Riley says.

 

Kaine gets to his feet, takes a few steps away from Drea, and slides into her face with a dropkick. Confident in the move’s potency, Kaine goes for another lateral press.

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Three--BROKEN UP!

 

Seamus springs to his feet a second before Kaine, both men seething with anger at Ghost after the diving double ax handle to the back of the Untouchable’s head. Arms raised and hands open, Ghost backpedals, trying to plead his case, but neither referee nor opponent will hear it as they continue to brow beat the masked man. With his back in the corner, he quickly points over the referee’s shoulders towards Austin Sly and Andrea Montgomery. Seamus spins around to see Sly simply standing on the apron while Andrea is slowly coming to. Ghost takes this opportunity to spring forward and blast Kaine with a superkick before heading back under the ropes.

 

“Now that’s just wrong! Not only did Ghost, wait, why am I calling him that? Not only did Mike Van Siclen break up that pin with an ax handle, he lied to the referee and hit Kaine with that superkick! Surely he and Andrea Montgomery should be disqualified by now, right?” Riley begs.

 

“Well, I agree that he shouldn’t have broken up that pin, and tricking the referee isn’t very noble either, but in the case of the superkick, I might have to pull from your bag of tricks and say that if the referee did not see it happen, it did not occur,” Comet replies.

 

As Kaine falls to the mat, Sly does enter the ring, heading straight for Ghost, but the ref intervenes, unaware of what just happened behind him. Austin takes turns bellowing at Ghost and Seamus, to no avail. Drea slowly gets to a vertical base, bounces off the ropes, and snatches Austin by the back of the head and sends him to the mat with a spinning neckbreaker. Drea gets up moments prior to the sour Kraut, and dropkicks him directly into Ghost, who humiliates Kaine with a bitch slap.

 

“Ghost just smacked the taste out of Kaine’s mouth!” Comet exclaims.

 

“And you condone this? That referee must be drunk, and since we are in Dublin, that’s highly possible, but I would think that even intoxicated he’d be able to disqualify Van Siclen,” Riley says.

 

The ref admonishes Ghost, and as Kaine holds a hand to his cheek, Drea rushes him, snaring the Untouchable with a rear waistlock. The momentum takes the German back into the corner, and Ghost helps out with a shove that sends him backwards and to the mat with Andrea on top after the rolling prawn.

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Three--NOOO!!

 

Kaine kicks out, sending Andrea flying into the corner, and Ghost acts quickly, grabbing her before impact, which the referee acknowledges as a legal tag.

 

“I wonder how Andrea Montgomery and Mike Van Siclen will fare now that he’s the legal man. Andrea doesn’t cheat as much as Van Siclen does, so problems might arise. Problems Kaine and Austin Sly can take advantage of,” Riley says.

 

“I think they’ll do just fine. Kaine and Austin Sly are on the ropes right now, so perhaps you should worry about them,” Comet replies.

 

Ghost enters the ring before Kaine can get to his feet, and the Specter (Or perhaps Spectacle?) keeps him down with a knee to the head. Ghost wheels around, arms outstretched, trying to find the camera with the best view of himself. What he doesn’t see is Austin Sly getting to his feet, slinking behind him, and snaring him in a waistlock. He arches his back and sends the Ghost to the canvas with a belly to back suplex. The ref is instantly in Austin’s face, ordering him back to his corner. Sly tries to stall as long as possible, and as soon as Kaine starts to get to his feet, he acquiesces and steps between the ropes.

 

“What do you have to say about that, Bobby?” Comet inquires.

 

“Huh? What happened? I had something in my eye and missed whatever it is you are talking about,” Riley replies.

 

“I’m sure. I’m talking about Austin Sly, who is not the legal man for his team, suplexing Ghost!” Comet exclaims.

 

“Well, and I might be wrong about this, but up until some foreign object found its way into my eye, Austin Sly was on the mat after Andrea Montgomery attacked him at a time when he was not the legal man. So, I’ll chalk this up to justice being served. Sly was attacked despite not being tagged in, so he returned the favor so to speak,” Riley says.

 

Ghost slowly gets up and goes right back down thanks to a dropkick from Kaine. The Untouchable vaults to the top turnbuckle and poses while waiting for Ghost to get back up. The masked man rises once more, Kaine flies towards him, scissors his head, and sends Ghost to the mat with a rana. Kaine reaches back and hooks a leg.

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Three--NOO!

 

Ghost manages to get a shoulder off the mat and the crowd explodes in support.

 

“M-V-S! M-V-S! M-V-S!”

 

Kaine rises to his feet and fires off a kick to Ghost’s head, keeping the masked man down on the mat. He heads for the ropes, bounces off, jumps in the air, and drops an elbow across Ghost’s chest.

 

“Excellent corkscrew elbow drop from Kaine. Now I think it’s Andrea Montgomery and Ghost Van Siclen who are on the ropes!” Riley exclaims.

 

“It would appear that way, Bobby, but we must always wait until the fat lady sing,” Comet points out.

 

“Who’s that, your momma?!” Riley shouts.

 

The Untouchable rises once more, springs to the top turnbuckle, reaches out, and tags in Austin Sly. Austin waits outside the ring while Kaine leaps off the buckle, crashing on top of Ghost with a moonsault before climbing into the ring himself. Sly hauls the masked man up, cinches in an arm wringer, and pulls him forward, driving his knee into Ghost’s midsection. Austin quickly grabs Ghost around the waist, lifts, and slams him down with a back breaker. Sly doesn’t let go, however, and places a forearm across Ghost’s throat, forcing Seamus start a five count.

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

Three!

 

 

Four!

 

 

Sly pulls his arm up and shoves Ghost off of his knee. Austin lifts Ghost off the mat and whips him to the ropes. He extends his arm and just manages to slap hands with Andrea, tagging her in as Austin bends forward, looking for a back body drop. Drea leaps onto the top buckle and springs off while Ghost clings desperately to the top rope, stopping his momentum. Just as Austin’s wondering where in the hell Ghost is, Andrea drives an elbow into the back of his neck, taking Sly to the mat.

 

“Picture perfect flying elbow drop from Andrea Montgomery! I’d be willing to say that now Andrea Montgomery and Ghost are back in control of this match. What about you, Robert?” Comet inquires.

 

“Come on! That should be illegal! You have to let the opponents know that a tag has been made!” Riley fumes.

 

Drea gets up, runs right for the corner, and springs to the top rope. She pauses for a moment, waiting for Sly to get to his feet, and scampers across the cable as soon as he does. She slides about a foot and jumps, nailing Austin with a leg lariat. Drea reaches over and hooks his leg.

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Three--NOO!

 

Sly barely gets a shoulder up with Kaine a few steps away and he quickly heads back to his corner before Seamus Rahim O’Horrowitz notices. Andrea hauls Sly back up and whips him to the ropes. As he bounces back, Ghost reaches out and slaps Austin on the back of the head, causing the man from St. Louis to swiftly turn around. Seamus rushes to step between the two men, but Andrea is faster and she pulls Sly down with a school boy.

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Three--NOOOO!!

 

“Austin Sly just managed to kick out! He really needs to tag Kaine in if they have any thought about winning this match,” Comet states.

 

“Maybe the referee should enforce some rules! That might help them. I mean, Van Siclen is getting away with everything! It’s not fair! It’s just not fair!” Riley whines.

 

Andrea gets to her feet, grabs Sly by the wrist, and tags in Ghost. She whips him to the ropes, runs towards him as he bounces back, and jumps in the air, planting the soles of her feet into Austin’s gut. Drea grabs him by the head and sends him over with a monkey flip. However, he doesn’t crash into the mat as Ghost catches him in mid-air! Ghost lowers Sly to the correct height, and drops to his knees. He quickly makes the cover while Drea rushes towards Kaine and knocks him off the apron and to the floor with a cross body block.

 

One!

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

Three!

 

 

Seamus rises and signals for the bell to be rung.

 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this match via pinfall, ANDREA MONTGOMERY AND GHOST!” Funyon roars over the cheering crowd.

 

“NO! That’s not fair! Illegal double team move! They should be disqualified, damn it!” Riley bellows.

 

“Well, at least you aren’t complaining that Ghost is Mike Van Siclen for ending the match with the Riot Act,” Comet says.

 

“That too! The man was retired! He lost his career to Toxxic! It’s not right!” Riley screeches.

 

As Comet and Riley bicker back and forth, Ghost slides out of the ring to help Andrea up. Joined by Zutroy, they raise their arms in victory and the trio heads back up the ramp.

[Thoth 0]

“Right, is everyone ready?”

 

Toxxic, the SWF World Heavyweight Champion, stands and watches the rest of Revolution Zero. Jet, his girlfriend, is lounging against the wall. Marcus Washington sits upright, dark eyes glinting behind his spectacles, and for a moment Toxxic wonders what the PA is thinking. Washington’s loyalty has always been to his friend and client rather than the group as a whole, which would suggest that if Sean Davis decided to go his own way Marcus would follow him. Davis himself sits next to Marcus, his impressive bulk dwarfing his companion and adding to the impression of the aptly-named Perfect Storm as a threatening thundercloud. The lightning has yet to fall, but Toxxic can feel the rumblings from here.

 

The man who appears to be the main reason for Davis’ discontent is seated a little way away from his Pay-Per-View tag partner; Andrew Blackwell - known better as Sacred - has dark rings under his eyes that make him look tired, but Toxxic is well aware that there is a very sharp mind behind them. Quite what that mind is thinking is anyone’s guess; the Straight-Edge Sensation believes that he knows, but his is not the only opinion on the matter.

 

‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins, the SWF’s Cruiserweight Champion, is leaning against the door to the right of and slightly behind Toxxic, a position that makes the Brit vaguely uneasy. Normally he’d have no problem with a stablemate apparently guarding the doorway... but Spike has been behaving rather differently lately.

 

“Ready for what?” Spike asks, his tone unfriendly. Toxxic turns and fixes his fellow straight-edger with a glare that Spike meets for a moment before subsiding slightly.

 

“The Battle Royale,” Toxxic says, more patiently than he feels. “The chance to be number one seed in the tournament to get a title shot at the World Heavyweight Championship.” He pats the belt slung over his right shoulder. “Although you know Spike, I’m wondering why you’re looking for a shot at me when you still haven’t taken that shot for the ICTV belt.”

 

“Dude, I was waiting for Maddix to get it back off that loser King,” Spike snorts in response. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it from him soon - then after I’ve done that, I’ll come for the World Title.” The man from California smirks slightly. “No matter who’s got it.”

 

“You’ll have to win the tournament first,” Sacred says quietly. Spike bristles in response to the Australian’s tone.

 

“Are you saying I can’t do it?” he demands, taking a step towards Blackwell. “I’m the best damn wrestler on the roster, of course I can do it!”

 

“What I want to know is why you two are even in this Battle Royale,” Sean Davis rumbles. “We’re meant to be a team, remember?”

 

“Says the man who speared his tag partner at Ashes 2 Ashes,” Sacred responds cuttingly. This time it is the Perfect Storm who rises to his feet and advances menacingly on the former leader of the Experiment.

 

“You just got in my way!” Davis snaps. “If you were interested in winning that match, maybe you’d have turned up beforehand to discuss tactics instead of staying away!”

 

“Because my company is so sought after...” Sacred murmurs, causing Davis to bristle even more until Toxxic places a restraining black-nailed hand on his chest.

 

“Sacred, shut it,” the Straight-Edge Sensation snaps at the Australian, who shrugs and sits back. “Sean, cool it - we know it was an accident. Besides, I’m not bothered about them being in the Battle Royale at all. I’ve got no intentions of losing this belt, but if I am going to then I’d rather it be to a Revolution Zero member than anyone else. If you’re not interested in winning this title, you shouldn’t be in the business.”

 

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not ambitious enough?” Davis asks, turning on his leader. “Because I don’t push myself forward like those two,” the big man gestures at Spike and Sacred who both look vaguely aggrieved at being lumped together, “that I shouldn’t be here!?”

 

“That’s not what I meant at all-” Toxxic begins, trying to calm the Perfect Storm.

 

“Dude, all I know is that all the SWF champions are in the Battle Royale,” Spike interjects, tapping his belt. “That’s why I’m in there. I don’t know how he got in!” he continues, pointing an accusatory finger at Sacred who manages to pull off an expression of wounded innocence with such ease that it almost looks realistic.

 

“When you’ve been here as long as me you get to know some of the right people...” is all the Aussie offers by way of explanation.

 

“You see?” Spike almost shouts at Toxxic. “He’s just in this for his own benefit! He wants to use us-”

 

“Spike-”

 

“-to make sure he’s got backup when he needs it,” Spike continues over the top of Toxxic’s aborted sentence, “and then when you think you can trust him-”

 

“Spike-” Toxxic tries again, with about as much success as before

 

“-he’ll turn on you! You can be blind if you want Toxx, but I’m not going to fall for his tricks-”

 

“SHUT UP!!”

 

Spike cuts off in mid-flow as Toxxic swivels round to confront him head-on, then opens his mouth to speak again but is overridden by the torrent of words that explode from the World Heavyweight Champion.

 

“I have had enough!” The Straight-Edge Sensation shouts, turning to look at the rest of the locker room. “I have had enough of this bickering and this backstabbing and this happiness-corrupt-political bullshit! This is my fucking stable, and what I say goes! If any of you don’t like it the door is over there, but be aware of this; once you are not in this room you are my enemy, and I will take you out!” He stares around at the faces looking at him, and seems to calm himself slightly.

 

“I don’t want to do that. We can all work as a team, and I will prove it to you. Spike! Sacred!” Toxxic turns back to the two wrestlers he has just named and points a finger at each of them in turn. “You two are going to give it everything you’ve got in that Battle Royale tonight, and then you’re going to do your very best to win that tournament and face me for this belt. If you don’t, I am going to personally take you to the fucking cleaners! Spike, you wanted a piece of me at Ashes 2 Ashes - well save it up sunshine, because if you play your cards right you just might get it with this on the line,” the straight-edger continues, taking the belt from off his shoulder and waving it in Hollywood’s face before whipping around to face Sean Davis.

 

“Sean, you’ve got this show off so why don’t you sit down, rest up, take some legal advice from Marcus and try and get yourself out of whatever funk it is you’re in?” Toxxic bites out, looking up at the Perfect Storm. “It wasn’t that long ago you were beating two men at a time - now you can’t manage to take out some street bitch and a goof under a mask when you have a former World Champion as a tag partner!”

 

“I’m guessing I’m not exactly Mr. Popular at the moment,” Toxxic says, looking around at them. “Well that’s just fine, and no change from the usual. If any of you want me, you can have me; when you earn a World Title shot.” Just for a moment, the familiar lopsided grin creases the face of the Straight-Edge Sensation.

 

“So get to it.”

 

And with that, the World Heavyweight Champion turns on his heel and stalks out of the door. Jet flashes a grin at the remaining Rev-0 members and eases through the opening before Toxxic reaches back and slams the door behind him; then there are only Jenkins, Davis, Washington and Blackwell, left looking at each other.

 

"Oh, I will," Spike says softly, turning his attention back to the closed door. "And you'd better be ready."

[Thoth 0]

It's Dublin, Ireland! Home of leprechauns, shamrock, Guiness, toothless simpletons and people with eyebrows on their cheeks. And tonight, home of SWF Storm. The Irishmen and women in attendance are going crazy as the camera pans the crowd, an alarming percentage of the crowd wearing green paddy hats. Oh yes. Stereotypes rock.

 

"We've taken out last commecrial break here on SWF Storm," Comet announces. "Meaning that we are ready to bring you, in it's entirety, the nine man battle royal that will determine seeding in the Cold Front Classic tournament! The nine men in the tournament know this battle royal could make of break their chances at winning the tournament...and, as a result, a shot at the World Championship. Robert, your thoughts quickly."

 

"Organised chaos." declares Bobby Riley. "And chaos that could pave the way for some hotshot nobody to get a shot at Toxxic. Not that there's likely anyone who could beat our champion..."

 

"Well, just look at the lineup Robert. We have the new ICTV Champion, both Tag Champions...one of whom is also the new Hardcore Gamers Champ, we have the Cruiserweight Champion, the USJL Champion, the former ICTV Champion, a former USJL Champion, perhaps the most prolific champion in SWF history by way of becoming an SWF Grand Slammer..."

 

"...and Danny Dagda."

 

"Well, don't sell Dagda short Robert. He is a very..."

 

"Ten bucks says he's the first gone."

 

"Uhm...Robert, it's not very professional to gamble while commentating on a live show."

 

"...twenty bucks."

 

"I don't think I..."

 

"Forty bucks."

 

"...make it fifty and I'll consider."

 

 

 

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

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Through the curtains bursts Landon Maddix and it seems we're ready to get the battle royal going! Bounding across the stage, Maddix starts to fire up the fans...while Megan Skye follows out behind her man, both looking rather gold laden tonight.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the nine man battle royal to determine seeding in the inaugural Cold Front Classic. Introducing the participants. First, accompanied to the ring by the new SWF Women's Champion Megan Skye. From Huron, South Dakota...the NEW, three-time SWF Intercontinental Television Champion...LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MADDIX!"

 

The crowd cheer as Maddix enters the ring...no sooner has he done so though, "Megalomaniac" is cut and replaced by Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer". Through the curtains storms Manson, strobes flashing around the Dublin Arena.

 

"From Denver, Colorado...this is MAAAAANSON!!!"

 

Into the ring rolls Manson, glaring across at Maddix as he walks over to a neutral corner. Maddix simply stares right back, trying not to look too intimidated by the admitedly intimidating Manson. Meanwhile, "Tearing Everybody Down" by Anti-Flag hits as red pyro fills the stage. Slowly and smugly, Danny Dagda steps through the curtains to the jeers of the Dubliners in attendance.

 

"Hailing from Newark, New Jersey...DAAAAANNYYYYY DAAAAAGDAAAAA!!!"

 

The grinning Dagda saunters down the aisle, talking smack to some of the fans as he goes. As he does so, off goes his music...to be replaced by "Aerials" by System Of A Down slowly creeping over the P.A system, heralding the arrivals of both Tag Team Champions.

 

"Introducing the SWF World Tag Team Champions! From Oil City, Pennslyvania...DAVID CROSS. And, the NEW SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion...this is CHRRRRRISTIAN FUUUUURRRYYY!!!"

 

Both Tag Champs enter the ring making a field of five ready to go. Wisely Cross and Fury take up the remaining neutral corner and look as united as any two people could be going into a battle royal, discussing the match. Dagda is busy taunting Maddix meanwhile, but Maddix seems indifferent to it all.

 

 

*BOOOOOOOOM!*

 

Suddenly, pyro rocks the Dublin Arena, "Superstar" hits and heralds the arrival of the former ICTV Champion Max King, who stops on the stage and holds open the curtains for the former Women's Champion Kelly Connelly, both with sour looks on their faces.

 

"Accompanied to the ring by Kelly Connelly. From Philidelphia, Pennslyvania...he is "THE ICON"... MAAAAAXXX KIIIIING!"

 

King and Kelly stride to the ring, while the camera gets a good shot of the four ugly scars down the side of Megan Skye's face, caused of cause by Connelly at Ashes To Ashes. Reaching the ring, Kelly starts to throw abuse at Megan while King slides into the ring, eyes locked on Landon Maddix's...and vice versa. What King doesn't see are the eyes of Manson piercing into the back of his head. In the meantime, the lights dim and up starts Fabolous' "Breathe". Green spotlights pan the arena and more pyro erupts from the stage, as the USJL Champion bounds through the curtains.

 

"From 'Hollywood Boulevard'...he is the SWF United States Junior League Champion..."THE URBAN LEGEND" TODD COOORRRTEEZZZZZ!!!"

 

Cortez strides down the aisle, entering the ring and back cautiously into the corner occupied by Landon Maddix...who gives Cortez some space. Now seven men fill the ring. Leaving only two to come.

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

*KEEE - RAAAAK!*

 

*BOOOOOOOOOM!*

 

"Battle Ready" by Otep blares through the P.A to a torrent of boos from the crowd as out emerge Jet, the Cruiserweight Champ Spike Jenkins...and after a brief pause, the figure of Sacred! The Rev-0 trio begin to make their way down, Spike and Jet chatting away while Sacred is focused entirely on the ring.

 

"And the final two competitors...both accompanied by JET, and both representing Revolution Zero! First...the reigning SWF Cruiserweight Champion...from Hollywood, California, he is "HOLLYWOOD"...SPIIIIIKE JEEENKIIINSSS!!! And, the entrant into the battle royal...the one, and the only...this...is SAAAAACRRREEEEDDD!!!"

 

Boos again fill the air as Spike and Sacred enter the ring, the unlikely allies sticking together and moving towards a corner...Dagda quickly moving out of their way as they do. So now, we have Sacred and Spike in one corner. Maddix and Cortez in the opposite corner. King and Dagda in another corner, with King glaring over at Maddix. Manson looks on from one side of the ring towards King. And meanwhile, the Tag Champions occupy the fourth corner. Nine men in all, all ready to do battle. And three women on the outside, possibly contemplating doing the same.

 

 

*DING DING DING*

 

"BUUUUUUUUUUNDLLLEEEEE!!!" screams Riley at the top of his voice...

 

...but the predicted scramble doesn't go as planned, with only Maddix and King charging from their positions and tackling each other to the ground. That's still enough to get the crowd going though, the fight between ICTV Champ and former champ commencing on the mat while the other combatants are slightly more cautious. Spike and Sacred are moving in a pack, both looking daggers at the now un-assisted Todd Cortez, the events of Ashes To Ashes still fresh wounds to Sacred. Meanwhile, Manson has backstepped his way around the Dagda, seemingly trying to form a pact...as the Tag Team Champions watch on and decide to advance. The Maddix/King brawl has now left the ring, both men having rolled under the ropes while still trading punches. Quickly the two of the three refs on the floor, Mr. Soapdish and Mr. Hardcastle, try to pull the two apart...whilst back in the ring, Cortez has been cornered by the Rev-0 duo.

 

"Well, I must say...a surprisingly tactical beginning to this battle royal. And already the competitors are 'pairing' off."

 

"Nobody wants to get thrown out Comet." says Riley, stating the obvious. "Rushing into anything in this battle royal could be especially costly and everyone in that ring knows it."

 

"COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ!"

 

As Max and Maddix continue to scrap on the floor, the Dublin crowd see Cortez's upcoming predicament and start to get behind him. Spike is beginning to talk trash as he inches closer to Cortez, who has dropped into a deeper stance than everyone else...eyes dashing from Spike to those of Sacred that are pierced on him. And then suddenly, Cortez springs into action. Getting the first shots in, Cortez nails both of the Rev-0 members with punches, getting the better of them for a few seconds, before the numbers catch up on him and he gets backed into the corner. Spike and Sacred pound away on him, as behind them, the other four men in the battle have also launched into action. Pairing off, Cross goes for Dagda...while Fury unleashes just that on Manson!

 

"And now, all nine men are getting into it! Just how you like it Bobbo!"

 

"Was that a slur then?"

 

"No, I think I spoke quite clearly actually."

 

On the outside, the brawl between King and Maddix is still raging on and making it's way around ringside...uncontrollable by any of the three over-stretched refs. Sacred and Spike meanwhile have Cortez pressed against the bottom turnbuckles, stomping away in unison as Jet yells on encouragement from the outside. Leaving the 'real' action with the other four. Cross and Fury, continuing to brawl away with Dagda and Manson, suddenly both charge forwards and wipe out their opposition with stereo clotheslines. Up first is Dagda, getting caught by the Tag Champs and double clotheslined back down. Manson is up moments later, but he gets grabbed by Cross and nailed with a big forearm...before Fury nails one of his own. The Tag Champs then set up Manson, hooking him for a double suplex. An attempt broken up by Dagda, who nails both Fury and Cross from behind. Quickly Dagda then drags Cross into a corner, choking him up against the buckles. While Manson takes Fury, whipping him into the ropes and catching him coming back with a high knee to the jaw. Fury remains down, as Manson turns his attentions back to Cross and goes over to help Dagda put on the punishment.

 

"COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ! COR - TEZ!"

 

Still, the crowd's focus is on Cortez as the USJL Champion is now being pulled up by Spike and Sacred before being dragged towards the centre of the ring. Sacred quickly hooks on a single chickenwing and pulls Cortez's head back, holding him as Spike winds up the arm. But any plans for a Lariat are cut off, as Landon Maddix suddenly reaches into the ring and trips Spike!

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

"Now, that was uncalled for!" chastises Riley.

 

Catching the eye of Sacred, Maddix then smiles up at the newest member of Revolution Zero...only to get jumped from behind by Max King, before getting bundled into the ring. And Sacred wastes little time in storming over and laying in the boots on Maddix...

 

 

...as meanwhile, Dagda and Manson have Cross up as they try to muscle him out over the top. Just as they get the second foot off of the floor though, Christian Fury is over to rake Dagda in the eyes. He then grabs Manson and wrenches him away, helping Cross back onto his feet before the two men charge beside the other, both wiping out Manson with a clothesline! Across the ring, the trio of Sacred, Spike and King are ganging up on Maddix and laying in the stomps. Cortez is up behind them however, bundling into Spike and sending him over the top...

 

 

 

"RAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

 

...but Spike lands on the apron! And quickly, Cortez is nailed from behind by King...allowing Spike time to roll back in.

 

"That was VERY nearly the first elimination...Citizen Jenkins, JUST surviving." gasps Comet. "And I'm not sure if Toxxic will be happy with that or not."

 

"What makes you say that?"

 

"Well, if Toxxic is still champion by the end of this tournament and Spike win the tournament...that'll mean an all Revolution Zero title match. Likewise, if Sacred wins..."

 

"Comet...Revolution Zero is strong enough not to let championships come between them."

 

"Well, we may find out in a few weeks."

 

Now, it's three on two in one corner...Rev-0 and King stomping, punching, kicking and clawing at Maddix and Cortez. In the meantime, Cross and Fury now have Danny Dagda in their sights. Grabbing his partner by the arm, Cross irish whips Fury with force towards Dagda, watching on as Fury grabs Dagda's head and looks to drive him back with a falling reverse bulldog. Only to get caught in Canadian Backbreaker position! Instantly Dagda squeezes down on Fury's ribcage, while Cross is caught by Manson before he can help his tag partner out. So it's lucky that Sacred has turned away from the battle in the corner, looking at Dagda who doesn't see the dangerous former World Champion striding up behind him.

 

"Comet...get your wallet out."

 

Dagda is busy taunting the Irish crowd now, still blissfully unaware that Sacred is standing behind him. Springing into the air, Sacred connects with a dropkick, hitting Dagda right between the shoulder blades. Dagda stumbles forwards towards the ropes, releasing Fury as he does so, while Sacred crouches down and looks ready to charge. But it's every man for himself in this one, proven by Fury nailing the unsuspecting Sacred with a spinning heel kick!

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

 

"Ooh...now, THAT wasn't smart." groans Riley.

 

Sacred is send tumbling across the ring, while Fury encourages Dagda to get back up...beckoning him on with frantic hand motions. Slowly Dagda does stumble around, catching a boot to the gut before getting caught in the 3/4 facelock. Fury quickly drops to his knees, dropping Dagda's jaw over his shoulder before pulling himself up, ready to complete the Thunder and Lightning. But as he gets back up, Sacred charges and bundles into both men, breaking it up.

 

David Cross is in trouble on the opposite side of the ring, Manson having succeeded in draping him across the top rope but having a little bother sending him the rest of the way over.

 

As meanwhile, Sacred is glaring a hole through the back of Christian Fury's head. The dazed Fury is taking a while to get up, using the ropes for assistance, as Sacred waits...and waits...and waits some more, before finally the Hardcore Gamers Champion is up. At which point, Sacred charges and clotheslines Fury up, over...

 

 

 

...and to the floor!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

 

"The first elimination and, therefore, the number 9 seed...CHRISTIAN FURY."

 

"So, that means Christian Fury is one of the two men in this match who will have to win four matches to get a World Title shot, right?" asks Riley.

 

"Indeed Bobbo. It also means you owe me fifty bucks."

 

"...I call quitseys."

 

"You can't call 'quitseys' Robert, we shook hands."

 

"Yeah, but you didn't stamp it."

 

"...what?"

 

"NUH-UH!"

 

With the first man down, the field is now at eight. Understandably Fury looks a little...well, furious...as he realises he's been eliminated and is motioned to the back by referee Soapdish.

 

 

Back in the ring meanwhile, the eight men left are paired off. Manson still has David Cross precariously balanced in one corner. Max King is stomping away on Maddix. Spike continues to choke Todd Cortez, while Sacred's attentions are now focused on Danny Dagda. First to break from the pairings is Spike Jenkins, taunting the crowd as he does so...before turning and seeing the precarious position Cross is in. Obviously, Spike has no love for the man who now holds one of 'his' Tag Team Title belts and charge over, helping Manson to almost tip Cross over the top. Cross is now calling for help, possibly unaware Fury has been ousted. And as King turns his attentions to Cortez, that help seems to be coming from Landon Maddix. Or not, as Maddix assesses the situation...before helping Spike and Manson!

 

"Look at this! Citizen Maddix, assisting Spike and Manson!"

 

"Well, these battle royals make for strange bedfellows sometimes Comet."

 

"You would certainly know all about strange bedfellows partner!"

 

"Oh, Ba-Zing~!"

 

Cross now has three men trying to tip him over the top and all hope looks to be lost for the other half of the Tag Champs...moments away from both elimination and a match with his tag partner! But from somewhere Cross finds the energy to pull one of his hands off of the ropes, using it to slam a fist down across Manson's forehead...and then Spike's. At that point, Maddix wisely vacates the scene, jogging over to the kneeling Max King and raking his eyes, breaking up his chokehold on Cortez. Meanwhile, Spike has given up too and Cross quickly plants his feet safe on the canvas, clubbing Manson across the back of the head quickly.

 

"Citizen Cross survives, for now...and now, it's Sacred who's in danger!"

 

Yes...across the ring, Danny Dagda has Sacred up and hanging over the top rope, much to the horror of Jet. Luckily though, Spike has seen it and runs over to club Dagda with a forearm deep into the kidneys. Dagda quickly drops Sacred as Spike turns him around, whipping Dagda off the ropes. Dagda shoots back, spearing the unready Spike out of his boots!

 

Meanwhile, Cross has stepped away from Manson and now grabs Landon Maddix, spinning him around...AND PRESSING THE ICTV CHAMPION OVER HIS HEAD!

 

 

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"YES!" Riley wails. "DUMP HIM! DUMP HIM NOW!"

 

Cross certainly has the chance as he keeps Maddix pressed high above his head. But he waits too long and over runs Dagda, nailing Cross with a big boot that knocks down both he and Maddix...with Maddix landing on top of Cross! Meanwhile, Dagda is on fire and quickly goes after Sacred, grabbing the SWF legend. Sacred scoots behind however, locking Dagda's arms into a double chickenwing! But here comes Manson, pulling a surpised Sacred off of Dagda and into a german suplex. Manson pulls himself up, but gets goozled by Dagda, ready for some chokeslam action. However, he takes forever over hitting it and Manson manages to boot Dagda between the legs!

 

"OOOOOHHHHHH!"

 

Groaning, Dagda clutches his 'area', while suddenly Landon Maddix is over, catching Dagda in the shoulder with a dropsault that sends Dagda toppling to the side. Being 6'5" does Dagda no favours, as he ends up teetering over the top...with a little shove from Maddix sending him the rest of the way over the top!

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

 

Dagda's feet hit the floor, much to his disgruntlement...while Manson wipes out Maddix with an STO takedown!

 

"Eliminated and now, the number 8 seed...DANNY DAGDA."

 

"So, it will be Danny Dagda and Christian Fury in the first match of the first Cold Front Classic!" announces Comet.

 

Manson now pounces on Sacred and stomps away on him as he attempts to get back up, with King and Spike busy stomping away on Cortez across the ring. Meanwhile, David Cross is now getting back up and looking quite dis-orientated as he gets to his feet. Seeing him, King suddenly breaks away from Cortez and creeps up behind the Tag Champion. Cross doesn't see it coming as he reaches for the ropes, while King hooks his arms around one of Cross' legs and teeters him up and over the top, Cross unable to react in time...

 

 

"WOAH!"

 

...as he tumbles to the floor!

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"Eliminated...the number 7 seed...DAVID CROSS."

 

"And just like that, we are down to six!"

 

Clearly pleased with her man's efforts, Kelly Connelly smiles broadly and applauds away for King...right by David Cross who is pointed in the direction of the exit by referee Mark Hebner. But while King is distracted with Kelly, Landon Maddix is up and behind King! Kelly is shocked, warning her man to turn around which he does, into a clothesline from Maddix, sending King over the top...

 

 

 

 

...but King hangs on...

 

 

 

 

...and Spike catches Maddix with a clothesline!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

King takes the opportunity to roll back into the ring as Kelly breathes a sigh of relief, while Spike is now laying in the boots to Maddix. Getting up, King joins in and now Maddix is being double teamed. Behind them, Todd Cortez is up...not being attacked for about the first time in the match, with the crowd cheering him on. Staggering over to where Maddix is currently being stomped into the canvas, Cortez has his fists balled up and ready to take on anyone. Except Sacred, who charges from behind and drives his knee into the kidneys of the USJL Champion! Cortez crumbles to canvas with a groan, as Sacred yells at Spike to help him out. Jenkins looks a little taken a-back at being ordered about...at least, by someone other than Toxxic...but all the same, he breaks away from Maddix and helps to pull up Cortez. Both men hold up the limp body of the USJL Champion as King continues the offense on Maddix. But before Spike and Sacred can do any more, Manson has walked over and pulled Spike away from the action and locked him in a waistlock. Quickly and smartly, Spike drops to a seated position to break the hold...

 

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

"OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

...only for Manson to nearly snap his back with a vile spinal-tap kick!

 

"Mother of mercy!" squeaks Comet, looking through his fingers.

 

Spike howls in pain and starts to writh on the canvas, as Sacred suddenly charges forward and tries to take Manson's head off with a clothesline. Manson ducks though, stepping to the side as Sacred turns around...and Cortez sprints forward, catching Sacred across the jaw with a running palm strike! Down goes Sacred, but Cortez then turns around and takes a boot to the gut from Manson. On goes a front facelock, before Manson lifts Todd up into suplex position and promptly sits out, bringing Cortez hard chest and face first down into the mat!

 

"And that's the War Ensemble!" Riley shouts.

 

"And, would you look at this Robert!"

 

Comet's excitement comes, as Manson returns to his feet and turns to find his next victim...to be faced by old adversary Max King! You can feel the tension in the air as this unsettled rivalry is ready to re-erupt, with King staring into the eyes of the man who defeated him in Caged Fury at Genesis V. Manson glares right back, not backing down a step. Suddenly, from behind Maddix is up...and despite being dazed, charges at King. He manages to duck though and Maddix sprawls forward into a quick Manson elbow strike, before staggering backwards into an inverted front facelock. Quickly King locks up a leg and lifts Maddix, before dropping him down on his head with the King Buster! Maddix is down. And now, it's back to a Manson/King staredown.

 

"This battle royal has suddenly become Manson and King's match...Manson and King's moment. Their chance to re-ignite a feud that span..."

 

*SMACK!*

 

Suddenly, down goes Manson...courtesy of a Sacred superkick to the back of the head!

 

"...oh, nevermind."

 

Looking a little surprised and a little angry at the same time, King yells at Sacred...asking him what he's thinking of. And Sacred shows him, by smacking King in the face with a forearm. King fires one back straight away. But Sacred shrugs it off and clubs King again. Only for King to nail another forearm himself, before grabbing Sacred and hitting a sternum buster. Away rolls Sacred, as Spike is back up...

 

*SMACK!*

 

"LAST DANCE!"

 

King crumples to the mat leaving only Spike standing, free to go after whoever he wants. And his first choice is the man he is set in line to face for the Intercontinental Television Championship, Landon Maddix. Megan watches on nervously as Spike takes a couple of handfuls of Maddix's hair and pulls him off the canvas, to his knees where he delivers a humiliating slap across the face. With a smile, Spike then holds his arms aloft...before firing off a kick to the chest. And a second, before backing up, ready to offload the kick to the head. But Todd Cortez grabs Spike's leg as it reels back! Spike quickly hops around to face Cortez, instantly getting dragged in towards Cortez and STOed to the canvas. But as soon as Cortez gets back up, over strides Sacred. He grabs Cortez, locking him up into a waistlock. Suddenly though, here comes Manson, spinning Sacred around and hot-shotting him across the top rope! Now Manson and Cortez are standing, Cortez going for a boot to the gut. Manson catches the boot before whipping him around. In mid-spin though, Cortez gains his bearings and hooks Manson with a discus clothesline on the way back around! Staggering back up, Cortez shakes away some of the cobwebs as suddenly he turns around into a lightning quick exploder suplex, by Landon Maddix!

 

"Woah!"

 

"It's every citizen for themself tonight Robert!"

 

Maddix turns, looking down on Cortez with a slight look of sorrow on his face for what he's done...which lasts for all of a second, before he pulls the USJL Champion back up. A forearm rocks Cortez and sends him quivering back towards the ropes. Cortez grabs Maddix around the head quickly though and tries to muscle him out over the top, Maddix doing all he can to reverse it and dump out Cortez. As they grapple on the ropes meanwhile, the other four men in the match are all beginning to get to their feet! Spike, Sacred, King and Manson all stare across the ring and see Cortez and Maddix going at it...putting aside their differences as they begin to move as a pack, towards the two sitting ducks.

 

Until suddenly, King grabs Manson around the head and wheels him around, tossing him over the top before he can even register what's going on and sending him out to the floor!!!

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

 

"Eliminated...the number 6 seed...MANSON."

 

Furiously Manson tries to get back into the ring and exact some revenge on King, only to get held back by Hardcastle and Hebner. Sacred and Spike meanwhile don't look impressed with King...as by now, Cortez and Maddix have stopped scrapping and are now looking across the ring. It's three on two now...still hefty odds, but not as bad four on two obviously.

 

"So, we have just five men left in this battle royal." Comet points out. "Manson out-smarted and now, just plain out."

 

"Which leaves poor little Todd and poor little Landon up against three very talented and three very vindictive men! Hey, Todd...where's Mike Van 'Ghost' when you need him?"

 

"Would you give that a rest?"

 

Looking across at each other, Maddix and Cortez exchange a wary look as the challenge ahead begins to dawn on them. King has meanwhile been forgiven and brought temporarily into the Rev-0 fold, the threesome discussing strategy. But suddenly, Maddix and Cortez charge at the three men while they're still unprepared, throwing wild punches and forearms at whichever one of the three they can get to. The numbers are still against them though and eventually Spike manages to duck beneath the punches, catching Cortez with a lowblow that allows Sacred to clothesline the USJL Champion down. Meanwhile, King gets the better of Maddix in their fist-fight and quickly spins him around into the corner. Spike and Sacred now have Cortez grounded and stomp away...

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOO!"

 

...as King chops Maddix...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOO!"

 

...but takes one right back! But Sacred sees King stopped in his tracks and charges at Maddix with a forearm. Yelling at King, Sacred then pulls Maddix out of the corner and steps behind, pushing Maddix forward towards the former ICTV Champion. But the current champion manages to duck a clothesline and push King, into Sacred! Their heads clock and Sacred stumbles backwards, his upper body tipping over the top rope! Maddix rushes over and tries to dump Sacred out, Sacred hanging onto the top rope and turnbuckle for dear life...yelling for Spike's attention.

 

"Citizen Maddix has Sacred up...and he's got him moments away from elimination!"

 

"No way. Sacred's got enough of a grip on the ropes to hang on...and he's got Spike to help him out."

 

As if on cue, Spike finally hears Sacred's cry for help and turns away from Cortez, smacking Maddix in the back of the head with a forearm. Quickly Sacred tumbles over the top, safely hanging onto the ropes and landing on the apron before rolling back in. Spike meanwhile has Maddix hooked around the leg and is now trying to lift him over the top. Cortez is back up behind though and he pulls Spike off of Maddix and back into position for a backdrop suplex. Raising a knee, Spike catches Cortez in the jaw to block that though...and as Cortez staggers away, Spike rushes behind Cortez and takes him down with the Phantom Neckbreaker. In the meantime, Sacred has picked up where Spike left off, hoisting Maddix up across the top rope in an attempt to eliminate the ICTV Champion. King sees the chance to help and begins to stagger over...but from the outside, Kelly starts to yell something at King.

 

"There we go, some advice from Kelly." mutters Riley. "Even in chaos like this, 'The Queen' keeps her head and..."

 

Suddenly, with the advice given, King charges forward. But rather than help Sacred, he lifts out The Sacred One's leg from underneath him and flips him over...

 

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

 

 

...both Sacred and Maddix teeter, falling over the top...

 

 

 

 

 

...but both hang onto the ropes to save themselves!!! Sacred and Maddix then set about pulling themselves into the ring, while King is watching Spike and Cortez's battle...unaware that now a rather pissed off Sacred is striding up behind King, eyes locked in on him like a radar. Slowly, King turns around and sees Sacred, instantly trying to plead with Sacred for forgiveness. And he's saved, as Maddix suddenly charges and flips over Sacred, taking him down with The Throwback as King just gets out of the way in time. King quickly wipes out Maddix as he gets up with a clothesline.

 

Meanwhile, Spike and Cortez are up, trading right hands back and forth! Cortez is getting the better of the exchange and backing Spike up towards the ropes, before leaving his feet and connecting with a single leg dropkick. Spike careers back into the ropes, his height preventing him from toppling over. But suddenly, Cortez finds a burts of energy and charges, clotheslining Spike...

 

 

 

 

...TO THE FLOOR!

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

 

"Eliminated...the number 5 seed...SPI..."

 

 

"WOAH!" Comet suddenly booms, as Cortez gets blind-sighted by King and set crashing to the floor too! "There goes Citizen Cortez too!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

"...SPIKE JENKINS. And also eliminated, therefore the number 4 seed...TODD CORTEZ."

 

"Two eliminations in a matter of seconds!" Comet says in surprise.

 

"Well, Cortez got caught playing to the fans. Serves him right."

 

As Cortez lands beside him, the disappointed Spike manages to force a grin down towards the USJL Champ...a grin which earns him a hefty slap, which kicks off another brawl on the outside! Spike and Cortez exchange punches, making their way up the ramp as they go.

 

 

Which leaves Max King, Landon Maddix and Sacred in the ring. King is still preening a possing, happy with getting rid of Cortez...as behind him, Maddix is dragging himself up to his feet. But again, yells from Kelly alert Max to the danger and he turns quickly around, charging and shoulder blocking Maddix HARD off his feet and to the canvas. Megan and Jet both glare over at Kelly, each of the SWF Divas with some representation left in the match...still leaving the chance of some catfighting very prominant. As King now stands tall in the centre of the ring, Sacred is now getting to his feet. King grabs the former World Champion as he reaches a more advanced position, sweeping him over with a textbook vertical suplex. Behind King, the enclosed figure of Landon Maddix walks gingerly up to King, who quickly whips around...and with the deftest of swipes...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOO!"

 

...lashes Maddix with a knifedge chop. Cursing, Maddix suddenly clasps forward with a shaky right hand, hooking onto King's face like a bowling ball...fingers in every hole he can get. One being King's mouth, one his nostril...and Maddix's thumb ends up jammed in King's eyes socket. But luckily for King, Sacred suddenly dives forward and spears Maddix off of King and to the canvas. As thanks, The Sacred One gets a boot to the back of the head from King. King pulls Sacred up quickly and irish whips him across the ring towards the turnbuckles. Seeing the corner getting ever closer by the second, Sacred quickly thrusts his hands up, catching the top rope to halt his momentum and pushes away from the buckles. As he turns around, King charges in and looks to avalanche Sacred up into corner...

 

 

...but he ducks out of the way, causing King to crash face-first into the top turnbuckle! And as he wobbles backwards, Sacred is quick to hook his arms around King's thigh as he tries to lift King over the top.

 

"Sacred has King caught here!" Comet shouts, feeling the RUSH~!

 

"Yeah, but Sacred isn't strong enough to eliminate King on his own!"

 

It seems Bobby Riley is right on the money as King hooks his arms around the middle rope and goes dead-weight, making himself as heavy as humanly possible. Still Kelly doesn't look very confident though, looking on nervously as her man is now being inched further and further over the top by knee raised into the ribs by Sacred. Maddix has now reached his feet and waddles gingerly over to the scene of the action and pulls Sacred off of King, spiking the legendary figure head-first into the canvas with a quick and dirty DDT! Sacred remains down clutching his cranium, as now Maddix is trying to scoop King over the top himself.

 

"What in the hell sort of a move was that?" sneers Riley. "If Sacred couldn't eliminate King on his own, what makes Maddix think he can?"

 

"Well, Ashes To Ashes..."

 

"That wasn't a battle royal, dingbat."

 

Putting his back into the cause, Maddix starts to try and gain traction and push forwards as he is now in underneath King...who is looking slightly precarious on his perch. King can now see the floor hovering beneath him and panic begins to set in, as it seems he's going s l o w l y over. So he fires back an elbow. Luckily for him, King catches Maddix square in the forehead with the elbow and causes Maddix to stumble back, howling more than you'd expect from a simple elbow strike. Quickly King lands on the safety of the canvas as Sacred suddenly finds a burst of energy and sprints across the ring towards King. But King catches him coming in a front waistlock and, before Sacred can summon a counter, King snaps his hips and hurls Sacred carelessly over his head...

 

 

 

*SMAAACK!*

 

...AND STRAIGHT TO THE CONCRETE FLOOR WITH AN OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY!!!

 

 

"JESUS H!" wails Comet, cringing as Sacred's body splatters off the thinly padded mats and he wails in pain on impact, while Jet over-dramatically flails her arms in the air in both shock and frustration.

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

 

"Eliminated...he is the number 3 seed...SACRED."

 

 

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!"

 

The Dubliners in attendance make their feelings perfectly clear as the referees around ringside look rightfully concerned for Sacred's well-being. But despite being shaken-up, Sacred doesn't seem to be seriously hurt. All the same, Hardcastle and Hebner help Jet to attend to The Sacred One.

 

 

Back in the ring meanwhile, the battle royal has come down to the final two. Who just happen to be the Ashes To Ashes opponents, Max King and Landon Maddix...the latter of the two busted wide open from the forehead, the stitches in his head rendered useless now as they've been torn apart. Seeing the blood beginning to trickle down his opponent's head for the second time in the space of a week, King smiles from ear to ear...

 

"MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX! MAD - DIX!"

 

...until Dublin, Ireland begins to get vocally behind the ICTV Champion. As Sacred is now up on the outside and being helped to limp and stagger his way up the ramp, supported by Jet and referee Hardcastle, King moves in on Maddix. Despite the blood loss already making his movements a little shaky, Maddix manages to duck under the lunging arms of 'The Superior Talent' and hook on a weak waistlock. King quickly prises his hands in between Maddix's arms and breaks the waistlock, before nailing another back elbow. The claret is beginning to flow now, as King grabs a handful of tights and another of hair, charging across the ring and hurling Maddix over the top...

 

 

 

 

...but Maddix hooks the top rope on the way over, saving his skin and chances at top seeding.

 

"As powerful as Max King is, Citizen Maddix is agile...which could help him here."

 

"Yeah, until Max presses his puny ass clear over the ropes."

 

Seeing Maddix safely on the apron, King puts any plans for celebration on hold and charges across the ring as he looks to club 'La Cucaracha' into elimination. Maddix catches Max coming though, leaning over the ropes and forearming King in the jaw. Away staggers King, as Maddix puts a hand to his head. Blood now staines Maddix's palm and he looks slightly shocked, but soon shakes that off and springboards up to the top rope...and then, off and onto King's shoulders for a Hurri-Lanrana. But King has learnt from A2A, blocking the move and powerbombing Maddix straight south!! Megan cringes as her man's spine convulses and spasms all in one, bringing another grin to King's face. A grin that doesn't last long, as King mounts Maddix and cups his head under an arm...

 

 

"YOU STOLE MY TITLE!"

 

*DOOOSH!*

 

 

"IT'S MY TITLE!"

 

*DOOOSH!*

 

 

"YOU'RE NOTHING!"

 

*DOOOSH!*

 

 

"MY TITLE!"

 

*DOOOSH!*

*DOOOSH!*

*DOOOSH!*

*DOOOSH!*

*DOOOSH!*

 

As King puts added emphasis (and sound effect) into the punches, Megan can only watch on through the gaps between her fingers. Blood now covers King's knuckles now as he finally stands up. King turns his head around the ring, looking for the nearest camera to display his 'war paint', while Maddix is pulling himself up desperately, hand over hand on the ropes. Turning back around, King walks over and irish whips Maddix across the ring. He bounces back, suddenly finding the energy to nail a flying forearm. Away staggers King, tumbling backwards and into the ropes...

 

 

 

...and he teeters over the top...

 

 

 

 

 

...but a helpful push from Kelly Connelly helps him back in!!!

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"Oh, come on referees!" snaps Comet. "Do your jobs."

 

"Hey, lay off them. If I were on their pay, I'd do a half-assed job too."

 

"As opposed to..."

 

Scowling at the abuse she's recieving from referee Soapdish, Kelly starts to mock the 'lowly' referee with taunts and jibes. While behind her, here comes the SWF Women's Champion. A tap on the shoulder. And another. What else can Kelly do BUT turn around...

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

...and nails Kelly upside the head with the Women's Title!

 

"YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

 

"Paybacks are a witch!" Comet exclaims.

 

"Megan Skye is a witch!" Riley snaps back.

 

Looking on in horror, King points an accussing finger down at Megan who is busy pointing out her scratch scars on her cheek to the unconscious 'Queen'. But as he does, Maddix has found some more energy in the ol' reserves and charges up behind King, who is totally unaware of what's happening as he finds himself going up, over the top...

 

 

 

"NOOOOOOO!"

 

 

 

...AND TO THE FLOOR!

 

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

 

"The number 2 seed, as the final man eliminated...MAX KING. Therefore the winner of the Cold Front Classic Seeding Battle Royal and the number ONE seed...LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MAAAADDIIIIXXX!!!"

 

Collapsing backwards, Maddix clenches his fists to his blood covered forehead in his delight...as Megan rolls into the ring, escaping the grasp of the furious Max King as she does so and wrapping an arm around Maddix. Meanwhile, Max is up and trying to get back into the ring, but being held back by the three referees.

 

"What a week for Landon Maddix!" yells Comet over the cheering Dubliners. "First his manager wins the Women's Title, then he becomes the three-time Intercontinental Television Champion...and now, Landon Maddix is the number one seed in the Cold Front Classic!"

 

"Bah."

 

"And what a bad week for King and Kelly. They lose both their titles and now, Max is the number two seed. So close yet so far for him."

 

"Oh yeah, rub it in why dontcha!"

 

Megan gives Maddix a helping hand up to his feet as the ICTV Championship belt has found it's way into the ring, quickly getting scooped up by Megan and placed over Maddix's shoulder. Despite the claret still trickling down his face, Maddix manages a smile as he looks at King who is being restrained by the referees, Kelly Connelly unceremoniously hanging unconscious over his shoulder as King wails obscenities at Maddix. Maddix mumbles something about preferring the 'belt' over his shoulder than a 'bint', before raising a weary arm in the air to salute his victory.

 

"So, Maddix is the number one seed...but that doesn't guarantee him the shot at the belt." Riley says defensively. "He's still got a long way to do."

 

"Indeed. The Cold Front Classic itself starts next week, but for now...Landon Maddix is top of the pile!"

 

 

FADE OUT

 

 

Copyright SWF 2004

"Straight Outta Smark Avenue."

[Thoth 0]

“Well Citizens, what a spectacular match that was!” Comet says enthusiastically. “Now we know the rankings for the Cold Front Tournament, with every SWF wrestler competing for a shot at the World Heavyweight Title!”

 

“Some of the people in there are better than others, I’ll grant you,” Riley replies, “but I doubt you’ll find a single person who can compete with our current World Champion!”

 

“Oh please,” Comet scoffs, “mark my words Robert; the Straight-Edge Sensation’s days as champion are numbered!”

 

Abruptly the Smarktron whites out and the opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire crashes out over the Dublin Arena. The response is mixed - mainly boos with a few scattered cheers - but regardless of whether they love him or hate him the crowd rises for the arrival of the man Riley and Comet have just been talking about. As if in direct response to Comet’s last statement, jagged white lettering flashes up onto the screen as it darkens:

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG...’

 

The Smarktron flashes up images from notable matches - the All-Show Brawl with Insane Luchador, the infamous Glass Jawbreaker on Aecas, the Caffeine Bomb on Kibagami and the Super Intoxxication that won him the World Title for the first time - all interspersed with the familiar lopsided grin and the words ‘REVOLUTION ZERO’ and ‘STRAIGHT-EDGE SENSATION’. The shot changes to footage of Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the-

 

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

 

-explosion of red pyro that signifies the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! The smoke drifts for second before a familiar figure strides through, World Title belt slung over his shoulder and his girlfriend at his shoulder.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon booms, “making his way to the ring at this time, he is the leader of Revolution Zero and the SWF WORLD... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

The majority of the fans in the Dublin Arena aren’t very fond of the Straight-Edge Sensation, but Toxxic ignores them as he reaches the bottom of the ramp and rolls into the ring, popping upright and signalling for a microphone from Funyon. The veteran ring announcer hands it over and exits, leaving Toxxic and Jet alone.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Toxxic looks around at the Irish crowd for a few moments.

 

“Is it because I is English?”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” the World Champion says, waving his hand dismissively as Dublin jeers at him. “You hate the English, I get the bloody idea. Of course, you’ll probably cheer the Americans despite the fact that most of them pretend to be Irish on St. Patrick’s day and couldn’t give a flying fuck about you for the rest of the year.” The Straight-Edge Sensation looks over at his girlfriend for conformation, but Jet merely shrugs.

 

“But I digress. What I came out here to talk about was this title belt over my shoulder.”

 

Toxxic unslings the World Heavyweight Championship and lays it down in the middle of the ring, then takes a step back and looks at it thoughtfully.

 

“Doesn’t look like much, does it?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “It’s just a big, gold belt. Just from looking at it, you would never guess that this piece of metal has seen some of the most vicious and bloody confrontations ever sanctioned by human laws.” The straight-edger looks up and around at the crowd, and there is a strange glint in his eyes.

 

“El Luchador Magnifico impaled Chris Wilson’s hands for this. Va’aiga nearly broke Danny Williams’ neck. Men of such quality as the Suicide King, ‘Grand Slam’ Mark Stevens, Thugg, MacPhisto, Tom Flesher, Nathaniel Kibagami,” Toxxic says the last two names with a sour twist of his mouth, “have fought and bled for it. Some held it for only a matter of days. Others held it for months. But lately, no-one has managed to hold onto it for long at all. In fact, no-one had managed to retain it at a Pay-Per-View since Genesis IV... until last Sunday.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Last Sunday at Ashes 2 Ashes, I faced Annie Onita for that title in a Street Fight,” Toxxic states, looking around at the crowd. “I can honestly say it was one of the hardest matches of my career... but I won, and did what no-one else has done in over a year. You are looking at the most dominant World Champion of 2004.”

 

“Citizens, this man is an arrogant, obnoxious and reprehensible piece of work,” Comet hisses over his mic. “Unfortunately he is, on this one point, alarmingly accurate.”

 

“But wait,” Toxxic says, holding up a hand. “I don’t get to rest on my laurels, oh no. No, even before I went into Ashes 2 Ashes I knew who I’d have to face when I came out the other side. A man who won the right to face me in a Fatal Four-Way. A man who, like me, kickstarted his career in the SWF with a run with the Hardcore Gamer’s Championship. One big, demented and in all probability ugly son of a bitch named... Carnage.”

 

“FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

The chants aren’t as derogatory as usual - most of the Dublin Arena would like nothing better than to see Carnage step out from behind the curtains, make his way down to the ring and go after the World Champion. However, whether due to dissatisfaction with their chants or for reasons of his own the masked madman does not appear.

 

“Is this the level that the booking committee have sunk to?” Toxxic asks the air in apparent bewilderment. “They shove three no-hopers and a depressed stablemate of mine in a match to see who gets to face me? Couldn’t they find any better challengers? I mean,” he continues, “at least when Johnny Dangerous stepped up he earned the shot by beating Dace Night, and let me tell you that’s no easy matter. But no, Carnage wins some throwaway card-opener and then gets bumped to the big time.”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Well let me tell you this,” the Straight-Edge Sensation says forcefully, jabbing a finger at the World Title as it lies on the canvas. “I’m not giving this up to some psycho with a mask! Carnage - if that is your real name - I’m not scared of you! I’ve fought bigger, tougher and stronger than you, and that was just in the Unholy Trinity! I beat Aecas on my first Pay-Per-View! I beat Janus to win this title in the first place! Sunshine, I have made a bloody career out of beating big, slow idiots, and I’m not going to stop now simply because you happen to think you’re Hannibal Lecter!”

 

“FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“FRRRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

The chants are growing louder now, but Toxxic ignores them as he leans down to scoop the World Title up.

 

“Carnage, I’d look very carefully for whatever passes for your brain and I’d start using it,” the straight-edger advises. “This isn’t going to be Hardcore, this is going to be a straight-up match! No barbed wire, no baseball bats, no handy glass windows to chuck your opponent through. There are just three men in the SWF who have ever beaten me in a straight-up singles match; you may have delusions of adding your name to that list, but if you do I have a piece of advice for you.”

 

Toxxic slings the World Title back over his shoulder and heads for the ropes, then ducks through them and drops down to the floor.

 

“...Prepare To Be Proved Wrong!”

 

With that, the Straight-Edge Sensation throws the mic carelessly back over his shoulder into the ring and sets off up the entrance ramp with Jet trailing him as ever.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

 

Copyright Smartmarks Wrestling Federation 2004

‘Raising workrates by typing faster’