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Chuck Woolery

SWF Smarkdown, 11-22-04!

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SWF Smarkdown is live in FIVE...

 

 

FOUR...

 

 

THREE...

 

 

TWO...

 

 

ONE...

 

 

*BAM-BAM-BAM-BOOOM! BOOOM!! BU-BU-BU-BOOOM!!*

 

Smarkdown is live in Madison Square Garden-

 

“OK, OK, can someone shut those bloody things off?”

 

-and Toxxic is already in the ring.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Yeah, and you lot can shut up and all,” the Straight-Edge Sensation informs the fans, who seem disinclined to acquiesce to his request, but Toxxic ignores them by talking right over them.

 

“Some of you may be aware of what happened after Lockdown in the car park,” he says, “when Christian Fury found out exactly where his car’s crumple zone is. And I’m sure those of you that do are thinking I’m some psychotic, megalomaniacal control freak.”

 

“Never,” Cyclone Comet says, with enough sarcasm to refloat the Titanic.

 

“Shush,” Riley hisses, “you’re just jealous because you didn’t get to do your big intro!”

 

“To those of you thinking that way, I have a simple message,” Toxxic says; “smarten the hell up.”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“For most of my time here, this belt across my shoulder has been the province of a select few,” the straight-edger says. “I don’t mean that there’s an elite who are always at the top,” he continues, spotting a ‘TOXXIC HOLDS SPIKE DOWN’ sign in the crowd, “because there are several people who have come through the midcard. No, I mean that at any one time there has only been one or two people in serious title contention.” Abruptly, the Brit swings the title off his shoulder and drops it on the canvas.

 

“Creative Control have changed all that with a little thing called the Cold Front Classic.”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“A knock-out tournament with one purpose; to determine a new challenger for this belt,” Toxxic states. “I have been informed by the bookers that should I retain against Carnage tonight - and I will boys and girls, so don’t you fret about that - then the winner will be facing me... at the Christmas pay-per-view.”

 

“That’s huge news!” Comet exclaims as MSG starts cheering again. “We could be seeing Toxxic vs Maddix... Toxxic vs Cortez...”

 

“-Toxxic vs Sacred, Max King or Spike,” Riley finishes, “options I consider far more likely.”

 

“You see, this little development has put eight people into the title picture, and that means I have eight people gunning for me,” the Straight-Edge Sensation explains. “A couple I know well. A couple more I have respect for, if nothing else. There is not a man in there that I fear... but one apparently took it into his head to attack his opponent before their match in the preliminary round.”

 

“Citizen Fury’s attack on Danny Dagda,” Comet fills in for viewers who have not been paying attention, “an action somewhat out of character...”

 

“My little altercation with Fury was not an assault,” Toxxic claims, “it was a message. A message not to try the same thing with me.” The straight-edger pokes himself in the chest with a black-nailed thumb. “I am the most dominant World Champion this year. I am the fastest-rising World Champion since the year 2000... and most importantly of all in some respects, I’m the guy who has Revolution Zero at his back.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Sean Davis, Spike Jenkins and Sacred,” Toxxic says, counting them off on his fingers. “That’s a former Hardcore Champion, the current Cruiserweight Champion, former Tag Champs and a former USJL and World Champ. The only other person currently active in the SWF who has ever been World Champion is backing me up.” He looks up and flashes his trademark lopsided grin. “That’s a lot of talent, so let me make one thing very clear. As of right now, this is our stomping ground.”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“You all know me, you all know I fight fair,” Toxxic tells the New York crowd. “I’m not going to let people mistake that for being afraid to take action. If anyone wants to bring it to me in the ring, I’ll beat them. If anyone wants to bring it to me outside the ring they’d better either have a lot of backup, or be a very fast runner. And that doesn’t just go for me,” the Straight-Edge Sensation adds, “that goes for every single member of Revolution Zero. We are the power now. As long as you stay where you should do, keep everything in the ring and official and don’t try to gain an unfair advantage then you are welcome to come against us... and lose. But if you decide that you can get one up on us by other means, whether that means cheating, attacking us or whatever the bloody hell you come up with then sunshine...”

 

Toxxic looks around at the crowd and flashes his grin again.

 

“...Prepare To Be Proved Wrong!”

 

With that the World Champion drops his microphone in the middle of the ring, scoops his belt up and heads up the entrance ramp.

 

“An unambiguous ultimatum from the leader of Revolution Zero,” Comet says as Toxic disappears, “and with that unpleasantness out of the way we have one of his stablemates Sean Davis in action along with Danny Dagda and Austin Sly, NEXT~!”

 

 

 

FADE OUT

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The scene opens up directly from commercial break inside the Penn Station. The fans watching from inside Madison Square Garden arouse a cheer as a wide angle shot of the bustling subway station narrows into the southbound tunnel where a faint light peers from around a corner and the hushed whirr of the subway train echoes closer and closer. A warning horn sounds and a throng of people collects at the lip of the station, awaiting the oncoming train.

 

“OUT OF MY WAY!” someone shouts!

 

A couple pedestrians stagger back as Austin Sly flies past them and crashes into an overstuffed trash can!

 

*Ka-KLANK!*

 

Danny Dagda emerges from the stunned crowd and reaches down to heft up Sly by the hair, landing a couple dizzying right hands on the former Cruiserweight champ.

 

Viewers at home are treated to a voice over from the MSG arena as Cyclone Comet and Bobby Riley commentate the match. Crowd responses are also heard from inside the arena as well as the gathering crowd of New Yorkers.

 

“And we’re back!” greets Cyclone Comet!

 

“And already in the thick of things, it seems,” adds Riley. “The Penn Station Brawl has already gotten underway here in Manhattan … Danny Dagda taking early advantage over Austin Sly … I have yet to see Sean Davis this evening.”

 

“Revolution Zero’s thug is probably at the McDonald’s inhaling a quarter pounder … “

 

Dagda grabs Sly by the arm and whips him across the station, but Austin doesn’t get very far as a cement column finds itself in his path. Sly bounces hard off the column and almost falls flat on his back, but is caught up in a Dagda full Nelson before being wrenched off the floor and over in a suplex! The referee supervising the match appears from the throng of people now watching and kneels to check on Sly as Dagda rises to his feet. Danny is sure to look around quickly, looking for Sean Davis and the inevitable sneak attack from either the Perfect Storm or his lawyer, Marcus Washington. Still, neither is in sight.

 

“A Hardcore Gamers’ contendership is on the line here, tonight, Bobbo. The only thing one of our competitors has to do is eliminate the other two by forcing them to leave Penn Station. It’s going to be difficult for our superstars to force the others up the stairs, don’t you think?”

 

The exasperation in Riley’s voice is evident as he replies to his partner, “No, Comet. I think when Sean Davis throws both Dagda and Sly onto the next train, you’ll change your mind on that one.”

 

Dagda, assured that Davis is nowhere near, grabs up Sly again. But Austin retaliates with a low blow! Dagda drops to his knees, holding his crotch in pain. Sly stands, favoring his shoulder as he circles the joint, trying to work out a pain. Austin grabs Dagda by the hair and jams his knee up into Danny’s nose and the big man falls back, now clutching his face! Sly rains down on Dagda with stomp after stomp after stomp … the crowd in the station begins cheering him on. Then they begin booing … Sly looks up and tries to duck, but gets floored by a huge clothesline from Sean Davis!

 

 

 

BOOOOOOOOO!!

 

 

 

Sly curls on the ground, kicking a leg against the throbbing in his head. Davis leans down and picks up Dagda, scooping him up and then throwing him back down in a quick slam. Danny arches his back from the impact, his face twisted in pain. Sean moves his focus once again to Austin Sly. Davis grabs up the cruiserweight, locks on a full Nelson and hefts Sly off the ground. Sean steps forward and then drops Sly’s tailbone right across his thigh.

 

“Sean Davis makes his appearance by obliterating both Austin Sly and Danny Dagda! In one fell swoop, Comet! He is the Perfect Storm!” exclaims Riley!

 

“Citizen Davis is a cheat. Citizen Sly was focused on Mister Dagda. It was uncouth,” replies Comet.

 

Riley guffaws and comes back at his partner, “Uncouth? It was damn smart! Sneak attack from behind … my favorite kind!”

 

Sly crumbles to the concrete and Davis drops to cover his opponent, hooking the leg.

 

“Uh, I don’t think Citizen Davis remembers that there aren’t any pinfalls in this match … it’s elimination only!”

 

Despite the lack of pinfall wins in the match, the cover is broken by a Dagda elbow drop! Davis rolls off of Sly and stands, shaking his head. Dagda charges Davis with a big clothesline, but Sean ducks! Davis grabs Danny from behind, lifts him up and over his shoulder!

 

 

OOOOOOOHH!!

 

 

“German suplex onto the concrete!”

 

“Citizen Davis looks to have really put himself on the line for this match!”

 

Sean remains on the floor alongside Dagda, cradling the back of his neck in his hands. The referee moves from Sly to the two other competitors, checking on each. Sly is the first to recover, slowly getting to his feet. He glances at the two downed heavyweights and searches quickly for a weapon. Nearby, a musician strums an acoustic guitar, and Austin bolts over, snatches the instrument from the poor Joe and brings it high over his head …

 

“Sly just stole that guitar! The guy worked hard for that!” complains Riley.

 

“I’m not exactly condoning Citizen Sly’s actions, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do!”

 

 

*Ka-CLA-A-ANG!*

 

 

The wooden guitar splinters in three pieces as Sly brings the heavy body down on top of a raising Danny Dagda’s back. Dagda falls back to a knee and Austin swings the remnants of the guitar, still pieced together by the strings, like a flail at Danny’s head!

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

The instrument further splinters and Danny falls back to the concrete, a line of fresh blood dribbling from his forehead. The musician, now over the shock of his bread and butter being toasted, yelps a war cry and charges at Sly!! Austin whirls to the Joe, bewildered at being attacked by a fan. Before the furious guitarist’s fist can contact with Sly, Austin ducks around the man, grabs him up by the neck and drops him down in a reverse DDT!

 

“By Moradin! How shameful! That man did nothing to Austin Sly! Nothing at all!”

 

Sean Davis enters the picture once again, flooring Austin with a big clothesline. Dagda charges into view, landing a clubbing elbow across Sean’s back. Davis stumbles forward and turns to face his attacker, only to be caught in a clothesline himself. Danny steps back from the carnage and faces the crowd of spectators, posing for them.

 

 

 

BOOOOOOOO!!

 

 

 

Danny frowns and gives the New Yorkers an eyeful of daggers. Suddenly, he finds himself thrown backward and he’s slammed hard onto the concrete by Sean Davis!

 

“Schoolboy buster!” comments Riley.

 

Sean gets to his feet, pulling Dagda up by his hair. Davis lands some dizzying blows to Danny’s temple, staggering his opponent back. Dagda lands back against a hot dog cart, resting there. Davis approaches, lands a big haymaker and then spins Dagda around. Sean slides open the hot dog warmer and shoves Danny’s face right over the steaming wieners! The heat from the boiling vat of dogs burns at Dagda’s skin, causing him to yelp in pain! He pushes back from the cart, escaping Sean’s grip. Davis is close behind, he spins Dagda to face him and ducks down, hauling the big man onto his shoulders, then falls back for a Samoan drop!

 

“Citizen Davis is taking care of business tonight! It’s a shame!”

 

“It’s wonderful! Sean looks like he’s switched focus … back to Austin Sly, who’s just now recovering from that clothesline … he must have injured something.”

 

Davis approaches Sly, who is getting to his feet, but is bent over at the waist. Sean lands an elbow over Austin’s back, dropping him back to a knee. Davis pulls Sly into a standing headscissors, wraps his arms underneath his gut and pulls Sly up into a Canadian backbreaker.

 

Comet bemoans, “Things aren’t looking good for Citizen Sly … “

 

Sean lets gravity pull Austin toward the ground, then secures him in a piledriver position and falls to his knees, dropping Sly on his head onto the concrete!

 

“Cyclone Driver onto that cold, unforgiving concrete! What a bastard! I love it!”

 

The referee makes an appearance, shoving Davis away from the fallen Sly and kneeling to check on the wrestler. Sean smirks down at Sly, then turns to find Dagda. Danny’s right there! His face is reddened, his cheeks beginning to puff from the burns. They’re practically nose to nose! Davis is the first to move, shoving Danny back. Dagda steps right back up, saying a few choice words for the Revolution Zero member. Danny’s head tilts in a cocky manner, and he quickly ducks as Sean throws a big right hand! Davis whirls around and is met with a punch, but retaliates with his own! Back and forth the two big men battle for the advantage.

 

“And now the big men will battle it out for this contendership … I don’t think Austin Sly is going to recover from that hideous Cyclone Driver.”

 

“I find it funny that Citizen Davis is even in this match. I thought that scummy lawyer of his had made it clear that Davis no longer wanted to compete in the Hardcore division … “ muses Comet.

 

“A title is a title,” states Riley. “And Sean Davis has what it takes to be a champ. There’s nothing wrong with more gold in the Revolution Zero locker room!”

 

Sean Davis finally takes control of the slugfest, knocking Dagda back and toward the empty platform. A warning signal sounds as another train approaches. Davis floors Danny with a clothesline and stomps on the downed man, waiting for the train to show. The cars pull by, then slow to a stop. The doors slide open and Davis picks Danny up, whipping him into the train! Dagda bounces off the metal car, and right into a full Nelson slam! Sean pulls Danny right back to his feet, picking him up and slamming him back down with a chokeslam. Dagda rolls with the pain and right into the doorway! The sliding doors begin to close, but are stopped by Danny’s big form!

 

“I hope the train doesn’t leave! Danny would be crushed!”

 

Davis glances back at Sly, who is still motionless on the floor. He quickly moves to Austin, picks him up in a fireman’s carry and hauls him to the train. Sean forces the doors open and tosses Sly onto the train. He then kicks Dagda, nudging him onto the train as well. The doors finally closed, silencing the annoying lady telling everyone to clear the doors so the train can leave the station. A chime sounds, and the crowd steps back from the train as it pulls away from Penn Station.

 

The referee overseeing the match steps forward and raises Davis’s hand, declaring to the dispersing crowd Sean Davis as the winner!

 

“Revolution Zero with the win!”

 

“Citizen Davis got the win, no one else from Revolution Zero was even out there tonight … they’re all ready for action later, though … Sacred and Spike Jenkins will compete to advance in the Cold Front Classic while Citizen Toxxic defends his SWF Heavyweight Championship against the psycho Carnage … “ reminds Comet.

 

“That’s all next, after this short break!”

 

Fade out.

Edited by Chuck Woolery

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"Welcome back to Madison Square Garden! Welcome back to Smarkdown, and welcome to the beginning of the Cold Front Classic!" Cyclone Comet begins, as the camera pans all around the capacity crowd in attendance...all of whom are showing their support for SWF in one way or another.

 

"And what better way to start with the man that on the last show actually PINNED the man that he's facing in this match!" Riley notes. "I am so waiting to see this happen again, I'm covered with goosebumps! Hold me, Comet!"

 

"...not on yours OR my life, Riley." Comet replies. "Kelly Connelly in the ring...I guess she's back to give her...insight."

 

The camera cuts onto the ring, where Kelly Connelly is standing with a smile on her face while she wears a black business-suit. She looks out to the crowd, shaking her head.

 

"You know, I was told from the time that I was a little girl that it would be the biggest moment in a wrestling career when you got to work here in Madison Square Garden." She begins, actually getting a cheer from the crowd upon that. "I was told that once you made it to MSG, you would be at the pinnacle of your wrestling career." She says again, causing the cheers to continue to rise up. "...well, after going around the city today, and hearing how negatively you treat someone of my status and grandure...well, let's just say this section of New York is no better than a garbage dump I saw down the street!"

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

"YOU'RE A BITCH!"

"YOU'RE A BITCH!"

"YOU'RE A BITCH!"

 

Kelly looks out to the crowd, slightly offended by the chant that she's getting, but for the moment brushes it off. "But I'm willing to be a nice girl, and find a way to brighten the mode in this desolate cesspool...I will give you a ray of sunshine in one of the greatest men that you have ever seen! So all you New York filth...stand up for the one man in this city that will NOT choke...one man that will go above and beyond your expectations..."THE ICON"...MAX...KING!"

 

*BOOOM!*

 

The Fireworks dissipate, leaving Max King in the middle of the entrance for the stage, "Superstar" playing over the speakers. King has a very confident look on his face, ignoring all the "Max King Sucks" chants that are being directed his way, making a purposeful walk towards the ring.

 

"Max King exuding confidence to the ring now, Riley. But you have to be sure that what he did to David Cross at Lockdown will not be far from Cross' mind in this match..." Comet notes.

 

"Well, if Cross decides to go too far in this match, then that's one big wasted opportunity for him. Remember that this IS a single elimination tournament, Comet!"

 

King looks out to the crowd, still smiling as he stands near Kelly, who is holding the ring ropes open for him. Moving his hand in a manner that almost seems to say "You guys just don't matter.", King steps through the ring ropes, making sure to give his leggy manageress a quick grope that the camera barely manages to catch.

 

"Ugh, this is just sickening." Comet states. "I'm hoping that the match starts soon..."

 

The creepy opening for Ozzy's "Back To Earth" starts to play up over the speakers now, and the crowd reaction turns quickly positive as one half of the SWF Tag Champs makes his way out from the entryway, the small bit of pyro that he has set up for himself going off as he does so.

 

Funyon: Aaaand his opponent, from Oil City, Pennsylvania...standing 6'5" tall and weighing in at 277 pounds...he is one half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions...DAVIIIID...CROOOOOOOSS!

 

Cross quickly takes the cross and jacket off of himself as he marches down to the ring, and as soon he's at ringside he slides into the ring, diving in to attack Max King before the bell rings as revenge for their last match!

 

*DING, DING, DING!*

 

"Oh, is this supposed to be fair?" Riley quickly cries out. "Cross didn't wait a moment for King to get completely ready! What's wrong with him?" he concludes as Cross continues to slug away at King's face, Kelly diving out of the ring quickly so nothing bad happens to her.

 

"He's getting revenge for when King did this to him in the previous contest, that's why he's doing this!" Comet reminds. Cross manages to pound King into the nearest corner, following this up by repeatedly driving elbows into the jaw of "The Icon", causing him to be rocked in the corner by Cross' 277 pound bodyweight. With King limp in the corner, Cross takes a few steps backwards, rushing into a corner afterwards and blasting King with a hard clothesline, hard enough to send King over the top rope and down to the arena floor...where Kelly is quick to go over and check up on her man.

 

"This is a travesty! Give King some time to recover and restart this match, referee!" Riley calls.

 

"He's never done it whenever King does this to his opponents, why should he do it right now because King is getting pummeled by Cross?" Comet questions rather quickly. As he asks this question, Cross steps out of the ring, pursuing King as he's down on the arena floor, moving Kelly out of the way and grabbing King by his hair before tossing him into the ring. King backs up into a corner, quickly making a gesture with his hands that he wants to take a time-out, but Cross will have none of it, charging in and kicking King right into the head with a Mafia Kick, knocking King back down onto the mat. Cross pulls King out of the corner, and quickly goes for the first cover of the match.

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

King still manages to get a shoulder up in the match.

 

"Max King won't be beaten that easily, something that no matter how much you hate the guy you have to admit." Comet states. "However, King will have to get some offense into the match if he ever wants to have a hope of winning."

 

Riley sighs. "Comet, you should know better that King will make a comeback when the time is right. He's just giving Cross a false..."

 

Riley's sentence is quickly interrupted as the crowd screams out in a loud cheer, as Cross grabs King around the waist while "The Icon" is still down on the mat, lifting him open and slamming him face first with that move back onto the mat, before rolling him back over onto his back for another cover.

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

King still manages to get a shoulder up just in time, causing this match to continue on.

 

"Cross in full control of the match for the moment, and if this keeps up it's going to be a really short night for Max King!" Comet states.

 

Cross gets back up to his feet after that two count, picking King back up to his feet, then dropping him back down to the mat with a slam. Cross bounces off the ropes, and goes to splash down right on top of him now...but King manages to get his knees up right at the right moment, causing Cross to land fully onto those knees and off to the side. King sighs a bit, relieved that he finally gets a chance to rest up and look, as he goes to get back up to his feet now. Cross holds his stomach in pain, and King gets back up, a smile now on his face as he quickly rushes over, hooking Cross' arm into an armbar on the mat, following this up by kicking Cross right into the side repeatedly.

 

"See, what did I tell you Comet? King was just waiting for the right moment in this match to get an advantage on his side!" Riley states, as King rears back his leg and swings it REALLY hard into the chest of the Tag Team Champion. "I'd say this match is very nearly over right about now."

 

"Don't presume things, Riley...I'd hate for you to have your foot in your mouth because of something that you predicted not coming true." Comet notes.

 

King still holds onto the armbar, making sure that Cross stays on the mat while he twists at the arm in an standing position, then goes to pull Cross back up to his feet. When Cross is fully back up onto his feet, King just smirks, and snaps Cross' arm hard down towards the mat again, apparently simply toying with the Tag Team Champion at the moment. King grins a bit, and starts to lift Cross back up to his feet again, apparently to do a repeat performance of the move that he just did. Cross, however, is ready for it this time, fortifying his stance on the mat so he isn't snapped down, then follows this up by reversing King's arm into an armbar of his own, locking the former ICTV Champion's arm up tightly now! King looks surprised by getting reversed like he is, and doesn't have enough time to react as Cross returns the favor done to him, snapping King's arm towards the mat hard enough for King to fall to the mat face first. Cross gets down onto his knees to the side of King now, tightening up the armbar at King's side.

 

"King's overconfidence cost him his advantage there, Riley. Had he just concentrated on getting the win and not trying to show off like he was, he might have gotten the victory by now." Comet notes.

 

"He was TRYING to give these people a show like they haven't seen often." Riley says. "Some people have no appreciation of great talent."

 

Cross continues to put on the pressure of the armbar, squeezing tightly and holding him at bay. King struggles with all of his might, and finally manages to shoot his legs out in a sitting position, then rolls backwards with the arm hold, loosening the grip that he has put upon him and starting to twist the arm a bit more. Cross and King start fighting for control of the armbar that they've been fighting for, the two of them continuing to twist the other's arm into positions of pain. Neither man seems to be able to get a full advantage, however that all changes when King shoots out one of his legs, hitting Cross right into the lower back with it, following this up with a knee right into the face of Cross!

 

"YES! A modified version of the Complex! That's just what we needed to see Comet! I told you, all that King needed was the right moment! Now Cross is going to get what's truly coming to him." Riley calls.

 

"That was smart of King, I do have to admit...using an attack that targeted the back that King attacked with brass knuckles on the last show!" Comet notes. "However, if King was a just and fair wrestler..."

 

"...then he'd be a lot more boring, if you ask me." Riley notes as King stands up, pulling his arm away from Cross' body, smiling a bit more. King grabs the arm that he was working on once more, and uses his strength to pull Cross back into the ring, keeping him down on his stomach as he does. King goes off the ropes to build up a bit of momentum, dropping an elbow right into Cross' lower back, causing the tag team champion to scream out in surprise and pain. Cross tries to roll back up into a seated position despite the pain, and King is just waiting for him to do that, bouncing off the ropes and rolling forward, snapping the neck of Cross as he does so! King quickly dives on for a cover, hooking up Cross' legs in an attempt to get the win.

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

Cross easily manages to get a shoulder up just in time.

 

"I don't know what King was thinking right there, Riley. There's no way moves that basic would be enough for a win this early on in the match..." Comet notes.

 

"Hey, can't blame a guy for trying though." Riley states. "You'd probably be praising Cross for his determination if he did something similar."

 

King quickly stands up and drops an elbow right into the throat of Cross in anger that the pin didn't get the win, quickly getting reprimanded by the referee for doing such a thing, and King just brushes him off. King slides back down to the downed Cross, putting his hand right onto Cross' throat and choking away at him with his hand, making sure to break right at four. The referee gets into King's face rather quickly, protesting him using such illegal moves against Cross. However, with the referee being distracted like he is, this allows for Kelly Connelly to reach into the ring, grabbing Cross across the throat and choking him out from the outside of the ring to the inside!

 

"Come on, there's no call for something like this!" Comet notes, referring to Kelly's obvious cheating in the match. "Just once I would like to see if King can wrestle a match without having to resort to cheating."

 

Kelly quickly pulls her hands away and acts like there's nothing going on as soon as King and the referee stop their argument, and saunters over confidently to the downed Tag Champion again, lifting him up to his feet and hooking up both of his arms, ready to flip him over with a butterfly suplex. It takes a little effort, especially as Cross tries to fight to stay on his feet and not get flipped over, however by the end King manages to get the move that he wanted to get, flipping Cross up, over, and down. King lands on top of Cross, hooking him up once again for the pin!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

THRE...no, Cross still manages to get a shoulder up off of the mat just in the nick of time. King gets back up to his feet again, shaking his head in anger and disappointment at not getting the win just yet. King climbs up to the top rope now, seeing that Cross is still down on the mat and thinking that he just needs one big move to get the final victory in this match, and goes over to climb up to the top rope. Cross still seems to be down on the mat, and also out of it for the moment, and King poses a bit for the crowd while on the turnbuckle, hoping for a positive reaction for what he's doing at last....

 

...however, all he gets for his troubles is a negative chant in his direction...

 

ASS-HOLE!

ASS-HOLE!

ASS-HOLE!

 

...and that seems to upset "The Icon", as he flips off the capacity crowd before leaping off the top rope for a top rope body-splash....catching nothing but apron as Cross manages to get out of the way just at the right moment. As King clutches his chest in pain from the way he landed, and Kelly seemingly has a heart-attack on the outside of the ring, Cross uses the ropes to pull himself up to his feet, and looks out to the crowd...all of whom are cheering for the fact that King didn't get a chance to get a further advantage in the bout. King starts to get up to his feet, and when he turns around gets blasted right in the jaw with a hard forearm, sending him off of the ropes and right into the waiting arms of Cross, who lifts King up with a quick, powerful Spinebuster that almost knocks King right out of his boots. Cross stays on top for the cover!

 

One!

 

TWO!

 

THREE...NO! King manages to kick out of the pin just at the right moment, much to the dismay of the fans. The crowd is completely behind Cross right now...or maybe just against King in this bout, but either way works. Cross looks out to the crowd, a slight smile on his face at the reaction for him, and he lifts King back up to his feet once again...before kicking him deep in the gut, and setting him up between his legs, apparently to end him off right then and there!

 

"David Cross is apparently going for the Black Mass early on! This could be it for Max King!" Comet calls. The crowd is on their feet in anticipation, waiting to see King dropped down to the mat like a basketball being slammed into the mat.

 

"This isn't right! Someone do something!" Riley calls out really quickly, just at the moment that King is lifted up over the head of Cross!

 

...however, the move doesn't get a chance to get completed, as King struggles with every fiber of his being, managing to get through the ropes and out of the ring as quickly as he can, Kelly holding him up for support to add to his escape!

 

BOOOOOOOOO!

"MAX KING SUCKS!"

"MAX KING SUCKS!"

"MAX KING SUCKS!"

"MAX KING SUCKS!"

 

"Whew, that was a real close one right there!" Riley says, relieved. "King playing it smart now, don't let someone like Cross get an unfair advantage on you when it's not beneficial."

 

As soon as Riley says that, the camera shows King throwing his hands towards the ring, as if to say "F*ck this!", as he and Kelly go to walk away from the ring.

 

"...now what is this about, Riley? Why would Max King give up a good chance to get a victory...he's running away from David Cross!" Comet notes.

 

"I'm sure there's a good reason for this...but what, I don't know." Riley states.

 

"There's no good reason for giving up the match...King is already halfway up the entrance ramp! He's acting like this match is over...but it looks like Cross will have none of it!" Comet notes, as David Cross comes out of the ring and starts to pursue "The Icon", breaking up the 10 count that would have counted King out of the contest. Cross turns King around, and just as he does he gets a hard shot to the throat by "The Icon", with the referee unable to do anything about it!

 

"See Comet! I knew that King had a good plan there! Luring that moron Cross out there...BRILLIANT!" Riley calls.

 

With Cross holding his throat in pain, King takes the opportunity to hit him in the gut with a hard kick, then grabs his head and drops him hard onto the entrance ramp with a well placed DDT! King quickly slides into the ring, and tells the referee to start counting!

 

"Well, it may not be a very popular decision, but Max King is apparently going to go for a count-out victory in this contest!" Comet notes. King leans against a nearby ring corner, allowing the referee to begin his count.

 

"One!"

 

"...TWO!..."

 

"...THREE!..."

 

"...FOUR!..."

 

David Cross starts to squirm on the entrance ramp now, much to the appreciation of the fans. King notices this happening, and quickly goes over to the referee to check up something with him, breaking the count...and allowing for Kelly to make her way over to Cross again...readying one of her high heels to nail him right into the side of the head while he's down on all fours. Cross, however, apparently sees that coming, and with King unaware, grabs the legs of Kelly, pulling her off of her feet onto the rampway.

 

"...HE ASSAULTED KELLY!" Riley quickly yells. "Someone get out there and arrest him, attacking a poor, innocent woman like that!"

 

"Kelly isn't poor, and she hasn't been innocent I'm assuming since the day that she first MET Max King!" Comet calls. "Cross now getting back into the ring, and King is completely oblivious to the fact!"

 

However, Comet's statement only proves to be true for only so long, as Cross gets back into the ring, sneaking behind him and dropping him right down onto the mat with a surprise Reverse DDT! Cross doesn't, for some reason, go for the cover in this...deciding instead to lift King back up to his feet once again, dropping him with a sudden chokeslam that almost rocks King right out of his boots. Taking a chance for something big this time, Cross takes a few steps back, getting into an almost football-style stance...seemingly ready to tackle King right down to the mat. King starts to get up, using the referee's shirt to pull himself up just at the right time...and when he's up, Cross charges in, ready to hit him with a spear!

 

King, seeing it coming however, flops (yes, flops...as in Flair Flops) out of the way, causing Cross to hit the referee full force with the spear!

 

"Oh great, this is NOT something that David Cross needed right now!" Comet notes. "With the referee down and out like he is, King is ready to do whatever it takes to win, whether it's in the rules or not! ...and he's now reaching into his tights for those blasted brass knuckles he used in the LAST match!"

 

Riley laughs a bit. "Comet, if it worked in the last match against the guy, why WOULDN'T he try to use it against him again? It's a brilliant strategy, if you ask me!"

 

King starts to shine up the knuckles as he puts them onto his hand, waiting for Cross to get up from checking on the referee. Cross finally does turn around, and King goes for the swing...but unlike the LAST time these two fought, Cross is fully ready for the attack, ducking out of the way of the punch, and when King turns around to see what has happened, Cross nails the former ICTV Champion in the gut with a kick, then lifts him UP...

 

...OVER...

 

...AND DOWN!

 

"THE BLACK MASS!" Comet calls out as it's hit. "Max King is done! And now Cross is going for the cover, this is all over for him!"

 

"No it isn't over, Cross can cover King all he wants, but there's no referee to count the fall now!" Riley reminds. "So what Cross is doing is just wasting time doing nothing!"

 

Cross, not hearing the referee count, looks up and sees that the man in the striped shirt is still out from the spear. Cross curses silently, and goes over to try to revive the referee again, cursing under his breath that this didn't get the win for him.

 

...what he may not realize, however, is that as he's doing this, Kelly Connelly has grabbed something that currently belongs to Cross...one of the SWF World Tag Team Title belts, and has slid it into the ring, right into the hand of Max King. Touching the title belt almost seems to be like smelling salts for the Philly native, as he starts to get up slowly, seeing that Cross is preoccupied with someone besides himself. Not even waiting for Cross to turn around, King just allows Cross to get back up to his feet before blasting him HARD in the back of the head with the Tag Team Title belt, causing Cross to go wide-eyed at first, then fall forward onto the ropes, slumped onto them as if he were a blanket on a drying clothesline. King quickly revives the referee as best he can, rolling up Cross in the middle of the ring with a simple cradle package...hooking the tights as well!

 

"No, not like this! Not like this!" Comet calls, obviously against the lack of justice from Max King against David Cross. The referee gets into the position...

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

"YES!" Riley screams after the three is laid down!

 

"Superstar" cues up suddenly, and Kelly helps pull King out of the ring to celebrate as they walk up the rampway!

 

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

 

"Max King stole YET ANOTHER victory!" Comet protests. "Just ONE time I would like to see Max King try to win a match fairly!"

 

"Oh boo hoo, Comet. King has gotten the win, and he's just one more step closer to the destiny that awaits him of getting a shot at the World Heavyweight Title!" Riley says. "You know you love it."

 

"David Cross doesn't love it...and I'm sure that this little problem between the two competitors is FAR from over..." Comet notes, the camera showing Cross starting to recover, glaring angrily at the entrance ramp...where Max King and Kelly have embraced, kissing each other deeply on the lips before we cut to commercial.

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The arena is alive with thousands of cheering fans, all of them ecstatic to be here, and all waving their signs like little children, many simply reading “MANSONOSCITY” while most say, in no uncertain terms, “Revolution Zero socks!” cursing that they didn’t perform a spell check, while getting many ask where they can get those socks. The camera pans through the crowd, capturing the happy faces-

 

“CCCCYYYCCCLLLOOOOONNNNEEEE CCCCCCOOOOMMMMEEEEEE-“

 

The superhero’s sudden introduction is once again cut off as the picture begins to flicker and distort, becoming graining and the sound warping, until a familiar Australian voice comes through the P.A, and Comet sulks…

 

“Do not attempt to adjust the picture…”

 

The fans, who have been delirious and jubilant all night suddenly, take a nasty turn as they boo the arrival of the resident Revolution Zero Australian.

 

“We control the horizontal…”

 

“He did it again!” screams Comet in an outrage.

 

“We control the vertical…”

 

“You can’t outwit this man,” Riley informs his cohort with a cocky grin.

 

We are controlling transmission…”

 

With the picture returned to normal, Lycia’s ‘Tainted’ begins to play it’s dark and haunting tune as the austere Aussie makes his way out from behind the curtain, looking straight ahead, mentally preparing himself for the tough match ahead of him as Funyon gets on the mic, announcing to the fans:

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, the following match is a Cold Front Classic Quarter Final Match!”

 

The fans cheer loudly as Sacred slides underneath the bottom rope, climbing to his feet and taking up his usual position in the corner, his head held high, remaining noble all the way as Funyon continues.

 

“Introducing first, the number three seed, from Adelaide Australia, he weighs in at two hundred and seventeen pounds… please welcome, SSSSSAAAAACCCCRRRRRRREEEEEDDDDDD!”

 

The house lights dim and multi-colored strobes flash as Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" blasts from the speakers. Manson emerges from the back to a round of jeers, his ripped and tattoo riddled body flexing as he walks down the ramp to jeers from the capacity crowd, but he takes no notice as Funyon introduces him.

 

“And, his opponent, the number six seed… from, weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds, he is… MMMMAAAAAANNNNNSSSSSSOOOOOOONNNNN!”

 

The former United States Champion slides under the bottom rope, climbing to his feet and the turnbuckles, looking out amongst the sea of fans, simply brimming with confidence as he looks back at his opponent, who looks down at he mat, eyes closed, preparing himself. Manson just shrugs, using the ropes to stretch as Funyon exits the ring and leaves Eddy Long to do his thing as he points to the timekeeper to-

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

-get this match underway!

 

“And we’re off!” shouts Comet. “With both men determined to advance in this tournament, and pride on the line, this match is sure to be a brutal one, with neither man holding back!”

 

“Of course, freak,” Riley replies, “these two men have been around for as long as I can remember. Sacred has held the World Title before, but Manson has never had the chance. He sees tonight as his night to break out, and finally overcome that hurdle to catapult himself into the Main Event, but with Sacred, someone who has always had more success than him over time, it’ll play on his mind and may cause some mistakes.”

 

Both men circle each other, each weary of the others particular talents. Sacred keeps his distance to avoid any depilating strikes and subsequent bruises, while Manson remains tight in defense, not allowing an avenue of attack for Sacred to exploit and get him down on the mat. The crowd begins to stir, feeling no love loss for either man, but eager for bloodshed and violence. Sacred finally steps forward, holding up his hand, gesturing for Manson to enter elbow and collar tie up. Manson nods while trying to hide a satisfied grin, thinking the Australian has lost his mind to let him in close range as he and Sacred finally lock hands. The two begin to go back and forth in a battle of strength, Manson always pressing with his superior strength, but Sacred manages to brace himself expertly. When it becomes apparent that neither man can gain the upper hand, Manson looks to press his power advantage home with a knee to the ribcage-

 

“Citizen Blackwell avoids the blow and heads behind Manson with a rear waistlock!” exclaims Comet as the action unfolds. “Manson is eager to finally prove his worth against a long standing rival, but as Carnage found out, the cunning and devious Sacred knows exactly how to turn that against you.”

 

“Of course, Manson doesn’t possess an IQ that of a child’s, like Carnage,” answers Bobby with a grin. “With pride and a World Title Shot on the line, neither man can let their emotions get the better of them and must stay focused.”

 

Reacting almost instantly, Manson throws wild back elbows to shake his opponent off, but Sacred ducks each one, before reaching down as Manson puts himself off balance, rolling him up with a school boy for-

 

 

ONE!

 

 

-but Eddy Long suddenly stops as Manson kicks out and the two men roll away and get back to their feet. Manson throws a wild right hand but Sacred steps aside easily, taking him by the wrist, but before execute a hammerlock, Manson catches him with a knee to the midsection, doubling him over. Manson yanks him around the neck in a front face lock, but Sacred counters before he can hit a DDT, wrapping his arms around Manson’s waist and throwing him over his shoulder with a Northern Light Suplex, bridging for-

 

 

ONE!

 

 

-but Manson easily finds a way out, pushing his whole body upward until both men are bridged, taking a tight grip of his opponent and twisting his entire body around until he has Sacred in a standing headscissors. The Australian can barely react before Manson grunts and heaves him high into the air in one fluid motion, but it proves too fluid as Sacred shifts his weight at the precise moment he reaches the apex, falling behind his opponent and landing safely. His troubles are not over however as Manson spins around, almost taking his head off with a Clothesline, but the resourceful Aussie ducks underneath and before Manson knows it, Sacred has taken his arm and pinned it behind him with a hammerlock, lifted him into the air and slammed him down on his back, keeping hold for the pin-

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

-Manson kicks out with a hint of desperation as the hot opening sequence gets even appreciation from the crowd as they begin to cheer!

 

“And so they should cheer,” shouts Riley, “that was some great chain wrestling, but Sacred ended up the better, which is sure to play on Manson’s mind.”

 

“Even if I consider him a foul and nefarious miscreant of the highest order,” bellows Comet, frowning at the Australian, “there’s no doubting he’s a superb tactician as he showed then, avoiding Manson’s deadly strikes and pinning his shoulders down, just to show he can!”

 

Manson hears the crowd’s applause and spins back to his feet, only to find Sacred standing with grace just a few feet away with a somewhat pleased yet disinterested look on his face as he smiles to a few lovely ladies in the first row. Manson’s piercing eyes lock onto the Australian as he hits the accelerator, trying to catch him unawares with a high knee, but Sacred steps aside, letting Manson through. Manson curses audibly, causing the sensor to scramble as Blackwell catches him with a Knife Edge Chop-

 

‘WHOO!’

 

-to the delight of the fans, if only for the cheap thrill of wooing. Another-

 

‘WHOO!’

 

-stiff shot turns Manson’s chest beet red as the Australian throws him into the ropes with an Irish Whip, catching him as he returns and taking him over with a Hip Toss. Keeping hold of Manson’s arm, Sacred attempts to apply a key lock, but Manson scrambles, pulling his arm away. Sacred’s real intention is then made known as he lunges forward, choking Manson with a Revere Face Lock, pulling him down to the mat whilst trying to lock on a Body Scissors!

 

“Citizen Manson was maybe a tad too hasty,” notes Comet, “protecting his arm, but leaving himself wide open for Sacred to target his neck!”

 

“Sacred’s near entire arsenal focuses directly on the neck,” Riley astutely pinpoints, “setting up either of his fabled finishing moves, but his unpredictable style keeps his opponent guessing, as he did with Carnage, ferociously targeting the leg.”

 

Sacred yanks back on Manson’s neck, but his opponent wriggles and squirms, trying desperately to avoid being locked in place with the body scissors! With a free arm Manson flays wildly, catching the Australian with an elbow to the jaw that sends him packing. Sacred somersaults back onto his feet as Manson climbs to a vertical base, sprinting towards his opponent. Sacred tries to sidestep once again and bring his opponent down with a Drop Toe Hold, but Manson has been taking notes, and plants his front foot forward to balance himself and counter the move! Sacred visibly gulps as Manson grins, knocking Sacred half way across the ring with an elbow strike!

 

Sacred manages to climb to his feet with a dazed look, but Manson is on him in a flash, hitting him with two more elbows to sufficiently stun him. Manson then grabs him and whips him into the corner, following him in and leaping into the air, driving his knee directly into Sacred’s chest. The Aussie is sent gasping as he stumbles out of the corner, but he just plays right into Manson’s hands as he’s lifted into the air, completely vertical, the blood rushing to his head, before Manson lets him fall like a tree trunk, laying him out with a Sit-Out Front Suplex!

 

“That’s the War Ensemble!” cries Comet as the replay is shown, complete with a zoom-in on Sacred’s head folding against the mat. “Perhaps you were right, Bob, maybe Sacred thought he could control Manson as easy as he did Carnage, but Manson has proven otherwise!”

 

“Of course I’m right,” replies Riley, “while you were gone starring on making low-budget soft-core horror flicks, I followed these two men and their careers’s closely and thus know them much more intimately.”

 

“Over a candlelight dinner, no doubt.”

 

Manson floats over the top and hooks Sacred by the far leg for-

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

-but the Australian kicks out forcefully, just to show he has a lot of gas left in the tank. Manson dusts himself off as he lifts Sacred to his feet once again, pulling him in close for a gut wrenching short arm knee lift. Sacred winces but has no time to recover as Manson shoots him into the ropes, lifting him up high into the air as he returns, throwing all his weight forward and driving Sacred into the canvas with a vicious Spinebuster! Sacred struggles for air, feeling his lung collapse on itself, but Manson isn’t done quite yet as he backs into the ropes, gaining momentum before leaping into the air, coming down with knee aiming right for Sacred’s forehead, knocking the poor Australian senseless. Manson claps himself out for that effort, much to the fans distaste as he hooks the leg and Eddy Long slides over to count-

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

-but again, Sacred kicks out, although it pains him to do so. Manson gets to his feet, feeling a tight sensation in his neck, but he puts it in the back of his mind as he looks down at his opponent, ripe for the pickings. The crowd howls in response as Manson strokes his beard as if to ponder how to do away with the Australian, but he makes his decision, pulling Sacred onto his jelly legs and hooking his leg and lifting him into the air, in position for a Fisherman’s Suplex.

 

“Chaosphere!” comes the call from Comet. “Three hard hitting, spine bustering blows in succession may just put the Australian down for the count!”

 

“Spine bustering…?”

 

But Comet’s forecast is premature as Sacred shifts his weight at the perfect moment, causing Manson to lose his grip, and allowing Sacred to grab him, rolling him with a Victory Roll!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

But his opponent scrambles away and breaks the pin, whirling to his feet before he can be blindsided. He looks to be safe as the Australian stumbles about mindlessly, giving Manson enough confidence to charge across the ring, bringing his arm back to clobber Sacred with a rolling elbow.

 

It’s all a clever ruse however as Sacred stops Manson dead in his tracks with a dubious kick downstairs. Eddy Long admonishes Sacred, telling him to keep it above the belt, and Sacred complies with a long sigh-

 

*BAM!*

 

-connecting with a stiff forearm shot that rock the former United States Champion!

 

*BAM!*

 

The fans begin to cheer as the man who betrayed Kibagami gets what’s coming to him-

 

*BAM!*

 

-and cheer as Sacred’s wound from Lockdown appears to be reopened, and blood trickles from his forehead, down to his cheek. This is far from the Australian’s mind as he ducks underneath a retaliatory right hand, driving his shoulder into Manson’s gut. With the former champion doubled over, Sacred heads behind his opponent with a rear waistlock, but Manson reverses it with a quick standing switch. With his head ringing form Manson’s punishment, Sacred desperately runs forward, bringing Manson with him. He throws himself on the top rope, causing Manson to let go and somersault backward. He manages to get back to his feet, but Sacred meets him, leaping into the air and snapping him over with an Ankle Scissors.

 

Manson rolls back to his feet, the move barely registering as he looks to retaliate, but the crafty Australian turns Manson’s frustrations against him, stepping to the side and taking his arm in tow, twirling behind Manson and hooking both his arm and neck with a Chickenwing Facelock.

 

“Citizen Manson may have tried for too much too soon!” notes the Spandex Superhero. “Defeating Sacred would surely give his quest in this tournament and career a boost, but his rash decisions may be his undoing!”

 

“And you’d love that wouldn’t you,” groans Riley. “What else was he supposed to do? Bashing your opponents head in is usually a good way to defeat him, but while he couldn’t put him away, he’s done much to secure his chances in this match.”

 

The crowd is suddenly depleted as Sacred syncs in one his most signature holds, pulling back on Manson’s neck whilst keeping him firmly in place, pinning his arm tightly to the side. The fans begin to clap, calling for some action, but Sacred is happy enough just to keep Manson tied down with his head pounding capabilities in check. But the former US champion fights on, dropping to his knees as he attempts to lunge forward and reach the ropes. With no one to cheer for, the fans decide to cheer for violence, not rest holds. They begin to chant-

 

‘MA - FI – A!’

‘MA - FI – A!’

‘MA - FI – A!’

 

-in hopes that it will spur Manson on, and it does! He scuttles forward, dragging Sacred along with him as he tries to reach the second rope. Try as he might, Sacred can’t stop Manson from reaching out, his finger tips catching onto the cable and breaking the hold! Knowing Manson will be severely pissed, the fans cheer, but Sacred doesn’t break his hold until-

 

‘ONE!’

 

 

‘TWO!’

 

 

‘THREE!’

 

 

‘FOUR!’

 

-Eddy Long forces him too, risking disqualification. With too much on the line Sacred backs away, but taking his opponent with him, however Manson has other, more sinister ideas as he shucks Sacred off much to his surprise, flooring him with a right hand! Sacred climbs back up but Manson hits him with right hand after right hand, backing him into the ropes. Manson attempts to whip him across the ring, but the Australian reverses it, waiting in the centre of the ring. The ropes send Manson hurtling towards Blackwell who lifts Manson into the air, but fails to drop him with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker as Manson slips away, landing in front of the Aussie.

 

The crowd now stand up in unison, sensing some exciting action is about to take place as Manson grabs Sacred’s arm, trying to drag him down across his back with the 3.0 Backbreaker, but Sacred counter balances his weight, blocking the move. Sacred quickly counters with a pirouette, heading behind Manson with one arm still hooked, grabbing the second arm and pulling him down with a Backslide for-

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

-but Manson manages to unhook his arms and roll back to his feet, charging at the Australian, but Sacred suddenly grabs him and hooks his arm for the Spanish Inquisition! Manson answers with one of his patented elbows to the face, forcing the Australian to take a rain check. Sacred is spun around from the impact, stumbling back towards Manson who suddenly takes him around the head and the crowd explodes!

 

“Sacred’s about to face the ‘Consequences’ of his actions!” shouts the Superhero with gusto.

 

“Is that the best you could come up with?”

 

The sudden move is answered with a sudden counter as Sacred pushes Manson into the ropes to gain some distance. Manson senses victory as he charges forward, leg outstretched for a Yazuka Kick...

 

… but Sacred has all the answers as he grabs Manson leg, plucks it from mid air and pulls him in, taking him down with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip! Sacred keeps a hold of Manson’s leg, but the former Champion turns over on his stomach, trying to crawl towards the ropes to gain some sanctuary, but Sacred pounces before he can get anywhere, driving one foot into his spine while he hooks the other around Manson’s with an Inverted Indian Death Lock! Manson howls with pain as Blackwell suddenly leans back into a bridge, grabbing his opponent in an inverted Chinlock much to the fans disappointment!

 

Riley gushes in sickening fashion more sickening than the actual hold, “…And my Rev0 buddy silences any doubts with a picture perfect Sickle Hold, placing untold pressure on the neck. Beautiful. I don’t know what is wrong with these fans…”

 

“Like me, they pine to see some justice dealt, but instead they have to sit through this boring drivel!” Comet argues, “But seeing these two men in pain does warm my heart so!”

 

“There’s a sick mind behind that mask of yours…”

 

Sweat begins to drip down side by side with the crimson red fluid escaping from Sacred’s cut, but he clenches his eyes shut and tries to keep focused. The lock he has applied causes Manson to moan with pain and the fans to smile, but the ropes are but a few inches away, his finger tips nearly brushing the bottom rope, but a sudden jolt through his neck as Sacred tightens the hold keeps him wincing in pain and the ropes a mile away.

 

Sacred strains himself further to lock the hold in tighter, digging Manson’s grave further, but a few jovial fans at ringside who have had just one two many begin to chant something almost inaudible by the camera, but Sacred’s eyes grow wide as he hears-

 

‘Aaannnnnaaaa…’

‘Aaannnnnaaaa…’

 

He almost collapses under his own weight, hearing his wife’s name shouted almost mockingly. Those few fans get their wish however as Manson dives forward, grabbing onto the bottom rope! Long prepares to institutes a count, but Sacred uncharacteristically lets go before he can, climbing to his feet, visibly shaken. Manson crawls away grabbing his neck in pain, but Sacred just looks at ringside, at the fans who continue to cheer as the match continues. The Australian clenches his fist, but his eyes remain listless as he charges across the ring, but his target isn’t Manson, the fans are his target.

 

“What the hell is wrong with Sacred?” bursts Riley, not believing what he’s seeing in front of him. “Did a paper cup hit him in the face while I wasn’t looking?”

 

“I don’t know Robert, but Citizen Manson is quick to recover and ready intercept!”

 

Before Sacred can hurl himself over the ropes and into the first three rows, Manson cuts him off mercilessly with a Cyclone Elbow that knocks him down. The Australian climbs to his feet and shakes his head, trying to focus, but Manson interferes with a bang, charging into Sacred and taking him down with a Lou Thesz Press. Seeing a bitter Manson mount on top of him, ready to punch his lights out suddenly snaps Sacred back to reality as Manson fires a right hand, but Sacred moves his head to the side and Manson hits nothing but pine. Manson yelps in pain and holds his hand, but Sacred soon leans back, taking him around the neck in a headscissors and pulling him to the mat, pinning his shoulders in a rollup for-

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

-but the former Champion won’t be pinned that easily and continues to roll through, deviating from his usual game plan as he runs forward, takes Sacred by each leg and flips over into a bridge as Eddy Long slides over to count-

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTHHHHHRRRRRRRRR-

 

-but Sacred also kicks out, sending Manson scampering across the mat and back to his feet. Sacred hauls his weary carcass to its feet, blood smeared across his face, but Manson is not to be denied, sprinting forward and grabbing Sacred across the chest, trying to drive him down with an S.T.O, but Sacred expertly spins himself and takes Manson by the arm, pushing him down face first and locking on a Crossface!

 

“Whatever ruffled Sacred’s feathers seems to have spurred him on as he traps Manson with a Crossface hold, making sure to punish that neck further.”

 

“I’m terribly confused as to why his supposed Revolution buddies aren’t helping Citizen Sacred,” Comet ponders, rubbing his chin in deliberate fashion. “Surely they would want to see their own stable go far in this tournament to stamp their authority on the fed?”

 

“Good luck to the poor schmoo who tries to,” Bobby snorts, “Sacred is already on thin ice with Davis and Jenkins, anyone coming to his aid would only cause more dissention, and we just can’t have that.”

 

Despite sinking in the brutal hold further, Manson cries out as he crawls on his belly, fighting through the pain to reach the bottom rope, knowing there is too much at stake. The crowd begins to clap once more, Manson still having some loyal supporters in the crowd who try and inspire the Former United States Champion, but Sacred won’t budge, linking his hands together and putting even more pressure on the neck, but while the hold is locked on, his eyes are elsewhere, almost not paying attention.

 

Manson uses this fact to his advantage, surprising the Australian as he suddenly pushes himself forward, throwing his entire body forward, and his arm reaching out and grabbing the bottom rope in desperation.

 

“He got there!” shouts an enthusiastic Comet, “but his neck must be in dire pain, and his mobility severely reduced after Citizen Sacred’s pin point submission holds!”

 

“Manson’s refusal to go down is just downright scary,” replies Riley. “After finding so much success in the past few months, he’s determined not to let Sacred just swoop in and take this opportunity out from under him.”

 

‘ONE!’

 

 

‘TWO!’

 

 

‘THREE!’

 

 

‘FOU-“

 

Long institutes a count, but Sacred breaks the hold when he’s told like a good boy, climbing to his feet, looking down at Manson who tries to hide his pain, but he can’t help but cringe as pain shoots up his spine. Sacred, now a fire in his eyes brings Manson to his feet, before throwing his arm over his shoulder and hauling him into the air, not letting him sway in the breeze for long before letting him drop behind the Australian. The crowd wonders exactly why he let him fall safely, but they get their answer when he pulls Manson down in a sickening Neckbreaker!

 

“Sweet Zombie Jesus, a Hangman’s Noose Neckbreaker surely delivers the knockout blow!” cries Comet, cringing at the replay.

 

“It’s all academic from here,” states Riley with a self-satisfied smile, “as Long slides over and counts

ONE…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTTTHHHHRRRRRRRREEEEEE…

 

NO! Manson rolls a shoulder off the mat to some uncharacteristic cheers from the fans. Sacred tries to hide his disappointment, but it can be seen in his eyes as he looks a Long, asking him for a three count, but his puppy dog eyes don’t get it for him. Nevertheless, Sacred looks to put this match beyond doubt as he drags Manson from a crumpled heap, pulling him into a Front Face Lock.

 

The crowd all rise from their seats as the Australian sets up his long-time finishing maneuver, but if anyone would know this move, it’s Manson, having seen it all before, and seen it countered as he sprints forward, spearing Sacred into the turnbuckles. The impact jars Manson’s neck, but he knows his situation is dire as does everything to batter his opponent, nailing him with stiff elbow shots before whipping him across the ring into the opposite turnbuckles. Manson charges at his opponent but is suddenly stopped by a boot to the face, spinning him around and sending him stumbling into the centre of the ring. With his back turned to Sacred, he doesn’t see the Australian sneak up behind him, pinning both of his arms in a Double Chickenwing…

 

“His work on the neck is about to come to fruition,” explains Riley, “looking for the Cattle Mutilation in the centre of the ring giving Manson no way to escape.”

 

… But it’s not to be, because at the moment Sacred tries to push Manson forward and into the canvas, Manson lowers his head, letting Sacred’s momentum send him flipping over his back and landing on his feet in front of him! The Australian can’t believe it, but he reaches forward to lock on a rear waistlock, only to feel a brutal kick to the stomach as Manson replies with a Roundhouse. With his opponent doubled over, Manson looks to stamp his Mansonoscity on this match, pulling Sacred into a standing headscissors, lifting him onto his shoulders and…

 

“POWERBOMB!” cries an ecstatic Comet. “Despite his neck aching and weary body, he was able to pull out enough energy for one last hurrah, and he may have just turned the tide and earned him a spot into the next round!”

 

Eddy Long slides over as Riley shakes his fist, “damnit, I wanted a Rev0 clean sweep, but maybe Manson it the next best thing!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHRRRRREEEEEE…!!

 

… But the count stops dead. Manson jumps up, thinking he has it won, but Eddy Long only holds up two fingers! Manson looks down, not believing his Australian opponent could kick out, but he didn’t, because his foot is perched on the bottom rope!

 

“Sacred saved himself against Citizen Carnage, using his superior ring presence to break the pin at a vital stage, and it’s no different here tonight!”

 

“Don’t say superior,” sulks Bobby, “it brings back too many fond memories…”

 

The crowd is up and cheering, seeing two men beat the holy hell out of each other and loving it, but before Manson knows it, Sacred is crawling his way to the corner for Sanctuary. The former champion with high aspirations stalks his opponent, pounding away on him in the corner with hard right hands, before leaning over and raising Sacred onto the top rope. Manson again strokes his beard, drawing boos from the crowd, but he just shakes his head, feeling he can already reach the title…

 

… but Sacred looks to deny him as he did Carnage, nailing Manson with forearm smashes as he tries to mount the turnbuckles with him! Manson tries to retaliate, but Sacred is desperate, and manages to knock Manson off his perch and down to the mat! Sacred shakes out the cobwebs before leaping forward, taking Manson around the head and flipping through the air, slamming him down with tremendous force!

 

“Blockbuster!” shouts Comet. “A rare big of high flying from the normally grounded Australian, but he does done damage with that move, knowing he had to target the neck!”

 

Manson feels the damage first hand, lying prone on the mat, yelping with pain as it shoots through his neck. Sacred, learning his lesson, gives him no time to recover as he rushes over, taking both of his arms in a Chickenwing and flipping over into a bridge!

 

“He’s got the NARCOSYNTHESIS locked on!” Riley clamors to shout, on the edge of this seat. “Boy , that was a mouthful.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be used to that?”

 

“Oh shutup! Manson is about to tap!”

 

Even the awesome powers of Mansonoscity can’t break the hold, try as he might, as Sacred creates even more pressure, pressing his arms together and tightening the hold. Eddy Long slides over, asking Manson the question as thousands on thousands of fans begin to roar as…

 

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

 

“He tapped! Sacred’s through to the next round!” cries Riley in jubilation as Sacred releases the hold and “Tainted” kicks up as Funyon gets on the house mic to announce…

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, the winner of this bout and advancing through Semi Finals of the Coldfront Classic… SSSSAAAAACCCRRRREEEEEDDDDD!”

 

“Both men gave it their all,” Comet admits, appreciating the effort the two men exerted, “but only one man could emerge victorious, and it’s e red letter day for the Revolution as Sacred goes through to face the winner of Spike Jenkins and Todd Cortez in the Semi Finals!”

 

“Whoever may win the next match, sparks are going to fly next week, don’t you worry about that…”

 

Sacred walks back up the ramp, dried blood matted through his air and smeared across his face, but he remains solemn.

 

“Don’t go away folks,” Comet tells the many wrestling nerds, “because Smarkdown will be right back with Todd Cortez facing Spike Jenkins for a Semi Final birth! That’s next!”

 

And with that, the picture fades out as Manson bangs his fist on the mat, knowing he let a golden opportunity to take the next step go by.

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“A storm has descended upon Madison Square Garden in New York City tonight, folks! Welcome back to SWF SMARKDOWN~!” shouts an enthusiastic Cyclone Comet, greeting the viewers at home.

 

“You’re absolutely right that a storm has touched down in New York, Comet. We’ve got some major scores to be settled here tonight! The Cold Front Classic Tournament is underway!”

 

“For once, Bobbo, I’m in agreement. We’re gonna kick things off with one of those matches RIGHT NOW, so take it away FUNYON~!”

 

*DING*DING*DING*

 

FUNYON

LAAAAADIEEEEES AND GENNNTLLLLMENNNN…THIS is the first round match here on SWF SMMMMMMMMMARKDOOOOOOOOOOWN~!

 

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

 

The lights go low, and Fabolous' "Breathe" starts to pulse over the speakers. Green spotlights will shine and strobe along the length of the arena. Once the beat drops and the first verse begins, pyro will explode from the floor of the stage. Cortez then storms out of the back and will work the crowd before powerwalking to the ring…when Spike charges out of the back and attacks Cortez from behind.

 

“WHAT IS THIS, ROBERT?” cries Comet.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“After sixty seconds of action?”

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

SMACK!

 

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

 

SMACK!

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“He hung him out to dry!”

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“Spike tried to steal Todd’s food?”

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

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

 

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

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

SHOULDER UP!

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

CRACK!

 

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

 

CRACK!

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

…but his knee buckles after the handspring!

 

“Spike took a gamble, and crapped out!”

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR…NO! KICKOUT BY JENKINS!

 

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

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

KICKOUT!

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“That was…interesting.”

 

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

 

“Keep it to yourself, Riley.”

 

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

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE…KICKOUT!

 

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

 

THEN SPIKE GETS HIS THROAT SNATCHED BY THE URBAN LEGEND!

 

“Urban Assault coming up!”

 

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

 

 

…But Cortez continues rolling and takes Spike over with a sunset flip!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

“The cover!”

 

 

 

 

 

THRE—NO! Spike rolls out of the sunset flip. Spike climbs up to his feet, his arms still wrapped around the opponents’ waist. Spike pulls Todd off the mat and holds him upside down! Spike wraps his legs over the flailing arms of Cortez…

 

 

 

 

 

…AND DROPS DOWN, DRIVING TODD FACE FIRST INTO THE MAT WITH A RATINGS CRASH!!!

 

“Ratings Crash! Spike hit the Ratings Crash! It has to be over!”

 

Spike rolls Todd over, holding him down in a sunset flip.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

“Spike Jenkins advances! Spike Jenkins advances!” cries Robert.

 

“Spike Jenkins advances into the second round of the Cold Front Classic,” says Comet. “Now he has to face Landon Maddix or Christian Fury!”

 

“Black Label” begins playing through MSG, as the crowd rise to their feet with jeers. Spike rolls out of the ring. Jet runs around towards him, the SWF Cruiserweight Title over her shoulder. They make their way to the back, as the screen fades to black.

 

 

 

[Fin]

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"Yes, it's Madison Square Garden and the stars are out in force tonight! Look Robert...there's semi-successful recording artist, Latoya Jackson!"

 

"Are you sure that isn't Michael?" mumbles Riley as he strains his eyes on his monitor.

 

"Your guess is as good as mine, Robert! Also here tonight, amongst the many world recognised stars, I saw earlier. Dustin Diamond is in the front row! And hey, look, there's Ron Artest!"

 

Noticing himself on camera, Artest quickly pulls a copy of his new rap CD from his pocket and holds it up to the camera...just as a bunch of fans bundle him. Punches fly as the brawl quickly moves back out of the exit, security strolling after the fight, whistling casually.

 

"Well, them's the breaks."

 

"Now THAT's a Defensive Foul!" chuckles Riley.

 

"Indeed. Okay folks, with the star spotting out of the way, it's time to take it to the 'end zone' with Christian Fury versus Landon Maddix, in the..."

 

"That's American Football you dumbass."

 

"Okay. Well then, we're about to...slam dunk the funk, with Christian Fury taking on Landon Maddix, in the forth and final Cold Front Classic quarter final. Fury, looking to shoot from downtown against the man with supreme hangtime, Citizen Maddix."

 

"Do we really need all these basketball references?"

 

"I guess not. All joking aside then Robert..."

 

"Those were JOKES!?!"

 

 

 

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

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Everyone watching at home breathes a sigh of relief and the fans go loco, as "Megalomaniac" hits and Megan Skye emerges into the arena. Of course, merely leading the way for Landon Maddix who bounds out to a rousing ovation.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last Quarter Final match in the Cold Front Classic Tournament, scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, he is the number ONE seed in the tournament! Accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye...from Huron, South Dakota. He weighs two hundred and eighteen pounds. The reigning SWF Intercontinental Television Champion! LANDON... "LA CUCARACHA"... MAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXX!!!"

 

"YEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

Maddix leaps to the apron and sits on the middle rope to allow Megan to enter the ring, before climbing onto the outside turnbuckles and holding the ICTV Championship above his head. Again cheers fill the MSG as Maddix leaps from the outside in, quickly passing the belt to Megan and removing his Cheat 2 Win t-shirt...

 

 

...while the lights drop. Some screams and some cheers can be heard over the opening of System Of A Down's "Aerials", as the flashbulbs begin to go off around the arena...partially illuminating the ring, where Maddix going through last minutes stretches.

 

 

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

 

Before the almighty pyro brings the lights back, and Christian Fury out through the entrance way to a strong but not euphoric reaction from the crowd. With a belt over each shoulder and the kendo stick in his hands, Fury slowly makes his way down the aisle...with a noticeably 'limp'.

 

"And his opponent. The number NINE seed, who hails from Cleveland Ohio...and weighs two hundred and thirty one pounds! He is one half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions, AND the reigning SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion! This is CHRRRIIISTIIIAAAAAN FUUUUUURRRYYYYY!!!"

 

"YEEEEAAAAAHHHH!"

 

"And as you can see, Fury does not look 100% tonight." Comet points out. "He was attacked...or ambushed, I should say, after Lockdown by Revolution Zero. And apparently he may have suffered rib related injuries, although Fury would not confirm to anyone the exact extent of them."

 

"He's clearly faking it."

 

Reaching the ring, Fury pulls himself up onto the apron and places his two title belts over the top turnbuckle. He then springboards in as ever, not looking too comfortable on landing...but he tries not to let it show, as he quickly removes his trusty leather jacket. Across the ring, Maddix sits crouched in the corner, talking something over with Megan. Referee Sexton Hardcastle quickly gathers up the three title belts and sends them out to Funyon, before checking on both men. With a nod from Fury, Hardcastle finally turns...

 

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

...and rings the bell, Megan only just getting out of the ring in time as Fury charges across the ring and ambushes Maddix in the corner! Fists rain down on the ICTV Champion who was caught by surprise, still crouched in the corner...before a big knee catches him in the jaw. A second does the same, causing Maddix to fall out to the apron. Fury reaches over the ropes and pulls Maddix back up, quickly hitting a right hand. And Maddix teeters, but quickly fires back with a forearm over the ropes before ducking his head and driving a shoulder into the gut of Fury. A shoulder which causes him to double over in pain and fall seated in the corner.

 

"Do you still think he's faking it Robert?"

 

"Well, obviously not now. He got shouldered in the gut, of course it's gonna hurt."

 

Wheezing already, Fury clutches his ribs. Maddix meanwhile re-enters the ring and looks down at Fury, no mercy shown as he moves in on the fallen #9 seed and stomps him hard in the chest repeatedly, until referee Hardcastle pulls him back. Fury quickly pulls himself up, walking out of the corner gingerly...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOO!"

 

...and taking a knifedge chop that does his already hampered breathing no good.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOO!"

 

...and a second! Fury senses Maddix is beginning to gain an advantage and quickly goes to the old recourse, a side headlock. Quickly Maddix backs Fury into the ropes though, pushing him off and catching him on the rebound with a clothesline. Fury wobbles backwards but stays on his feet, so Maddix hits the ropes himself. This time Fury is waiting and he hits a clothesline, with enough force to knock Maddix off his feet and to the canvas. Looking a little embarrassed, up scrambles Maddix to get into the face of Fury...but he promptly gets pushed away. The rapid start of the match has by now died down as now Fury and Maddix are resorting to attempts at one upping the other it seems, with the two again going face to face and this time it's Maddix pie-facing Fury away. So Fury fires back with a right hand, getting a forearm back for his troubles. Both men stagger a little as Fury nails a second right hand. Before tasting a second forearm back.

 

"Obviously, these two fair Citizens are evenly matched...and it seems to be showing at the moment."

 

Again both men are feeling the effects as Maddix takes the advantage, hitting another forearm. But Fury shakes it off and quickly kicks out at Maddix, catching him rather haphazardly across the kneecap. Maddix drops to one knee, but from there forearms Fury in the ribs which doubles Fury over. Reaching up, Maddix then locks on a front facelock and leaps from his knee, DDTing Fury with authority, before rolling straight over into a cover...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

NO!

 

Fury remains down despite his kickout as Maddix pulls himself up, shaking off the pain in his knee and rushing at Fury. But Fury rolls out of the way of an elbowdrop...and a second. He then rolls out of the way of the third, only for Maddix to stop halfway and re-adjust, kicking Fury in the ribs. Fury howls and clutches those same ribs, as Maddix grabs a handful of hair and drags Fury up. Ducking behind, Fury quickly locks on a waistlock. But an elbow from Maddix breaks that, allowing Maddix to turn and irish whip Fury into the turnbuckles. Fury groans as he hits the buckles, as Maddix follows in with a clothesline, before looking for another irish whip. This time Fury reverses however, sending Maddix across the ring and following in quickly behind and looking to catch Maddix. However, Maddix leaps to the middle rope acrobatically on the way and instantly backflips off the ropes...

 

 

 

...catching Fury running in, in a reverse front facelock...

 

 

 

 

...and WHIPPING Fury down to the mat violently with the Landon Eye!

 

"YEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

"Gorgeous reversal by Citizen Maddix!" booms Comet.

 

The MSG erupts for Maddix's show of athleticism as Fury has enough presence of mind to roll from the ring, groggy and in clear pain around the ribs. If the Hardcore Gamers Champ is looking for a rest though, he's not going to get it, as Maddix rolls right out of the ring after Fury as he looks to keep the pressure on.

 

"Now, this may not be smart." Comet predicts. "This is Fury's territory, being the Hardcore Gamers Champ of course."

 

"Yeah, but Maddix is enough of a cheat to feel at home on the floor."

 

Maddix manages to grab Fury, pushing him back into the barricade...and again, Fury clutches his ribs. On the defensive, Fury now staggers away aimlessly, trying to get a breather with Maddix closing in after him. Again Maddix grabs Fury, throwing him into the ring this time and sliding in after him quickly. Still Fury is on the defensive and tries to crawl across the ring, but Maddix grabs him by the hair to stop him in his tracks and pulls him to his feet. Fury turns to face Maddix and quickly buries a knee into his lighter opponent's gut before again going after the knee, this time with more kicks. Under barrage, Maddix's knee crumples under him as Fury continues to ruthlessly stomp away.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

Surprisingly, some of the Garden begins to break into boos. But Fury knows he's doing what he has to do and ignores the crowd. Kicking Maddix's knee one last time, Fury reaches down and splays Maddix's legs before focusing back on the right and dropping a knee across the side of the kneecap! Maddix wails in pain, pain which continues as Fury pulls the lower leg upwards and hooks it under his far arm in a modified leg-lock. However, that doesn't last long...as Maddix nails Fury in the ribs with his free leg. The first kick loosens the hold, the second breaks it as Fury's ribs simply can't take the offence. Away stumbles Fury, growling in frustration at how much his injuries hamper him...as Maddix limps back to his feet. A forearm catches Fury turning around, but again Fury kicks Maddix in the knee to buy himself some time.

 

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

 

"The Citizens of New York, rallying behind Landon Maddix here!"

 

Gritting his teeth, Maddix nails another forearm...but gets another kick into the knee for his troubles. So Maddix does what any good wrestler does and pokes Fury in the eyes!

 

 

"YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

"Oh, for Tom's sake! What the hell was that!?!"

 

"Well, not that I condone it..." sighs Comet. "...but the fans seem to like Maddix's tactics."

 

"It's New York Comet, of course they like it. These people would televise mugging if they could!"

 

As Fury holds his eye, Maddix takes the opportunity to duck under Fury's raised arm and looks to be setting Fury for an Exploder. But the kicking his knee has already taken hampers his attempt, so Maddix re-thinks and knees Fury in the gut, before falling backwards and taking Fury down face-first. That seems to stun Fury, allowing Maddix to cradle him over and make a cover...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

Maddix pulls himself up quickly, almost expecting a kickout. Meanwhile, Fury is having to use the ropes to pull himself back up already, obviously more hurt than he'd like to let on. Quickly Maddix moves in and irish whips Fury across the ring, catching him coming back with a knee to the gut. The move hurts both men though...Fury collapsing into a fetal position, while Maddix curses and limps away. Looking a little concerned, Megan watches on. Shaking off the pain, Maddix walks back after Fury and helps him up, lamping him with another forearm before whipping Fury across the ring...

 

 

*CHINK*

 

"AAARRRRGH!"

 

...HARD, back-first into the corner. Out staggers Fury, as Maddix follows methodically in, catching Fury as he staggers out in a front facelock. Maddix then throws over the arm and looks for a suplex...but can't get it, as Fury blocks. Stopping, Maddix regroups and then looks for the suplex for a second time, again unable to get it. Maddix senses a little embarrassment and quickly uses his free arm to pepper Fury's rib area with some punches, before hooking him up again. From a side-view, we can see Maddix breathing heavily, trying to summon up all the energy he can before a third attempt...

 

 

 

...and this time, he gets it!

 

"And there's the suplex!"

 

"That's just great." sneers Riley. "Maddix wastes a whole heap of energy, just so he can hit...a vertical suplex. Poor priorities there."

 

But Maddix seems happy as he gets back up, hovering over Fury and contemplating his next move. Which is a simple stomp to the gut, followed up with a couple more before Maddix walks off and exits to the apron. Fury is dead in the middle of the ring, but still Maddix decides to climb up to the top rope. The leg slows down his ascent, but Maddix still reaches the top before Fury can reach his feet and quickly adjusting on the top. Judging the distance, Maddix then re-adjusts before finally springing off the ropes...

 

 

 

...BUT FURY AVOIDS THE SWANDIVE HEADBUTT!!!

 

 

"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!"

 

"See? Why the hell would Maddix go for a Swandive, aimed at the head and shoulder, when his opponent has injured ribs!?!" snaps Riley.

 

"Well, Fury was acr..."

 

"I'll tell you why. He's trying to show off to the crowd! That's why he was so pig-headed over hitting the suplex, it's why he went for the Swandive and it's why he's lying on the mat seeing stars!"

 

As Maddix remains down, Fury rolls the rest of the way across the ring and uses the ropes to help pull himself up. Fury then backs off those ropes, running back and dropping an elbow right across the right knee of Maddix, going back to the bodypart. Fury pops back up and grabs the leg, turning Maddix over relatively effortlessly and locking on a half boston crab. This time there are no shortcuts for Maddix and he realises he has to go for the ropes, crawling towards them as soon as his senses come back to him. Fury sits back, trying to prevent it, but Maddix continues to crawl...

 

 

 

...so Fury stands back up, twisting around to the side and dropping down with an STF hold on the leg. But rather than grab the head of Maddix, Fury quickly hooks his hands under the arms and around into a full nelson, preventing Landon from crawling anywhere!

 

"Very nice hold here...an STF, with a full nelson." comments Comet.

 

"And obviously, Christian Fury is THINKING in the ring. Fury isn't doing moves because the crowd like them, he's doing moves because they make sense."

 

Maddix is pretty much trapped now, only his left leg free to do anything...and even that isn't much use. Thinking fast as the pain in his knee is setting in, Maddix starts to try and inch to the left. Looking something akin to a seal on dry land, Maddix pushes and inches as Fury tries to force forwards on the leg. But Maddix is still managing to push the hold towards the left and eventually, gets the foot on the ropes!

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

 

Quickly breaking the hold, Fury gets quickly back up and wastes little time in grabbing Maddix's leg once more. Maddix reaches for the ropes and gets them, using them to pull himself up and go for an enziguri. The older, more experienced Fury ducks it though and looks for the step-over toehold again. But Maddix quickly presses onto his hands, rolling through and using the left leg to push Fury off, causing him to land throat first across the middle rope!

 

"Oh, here we go!"

 

"Yeah, here we go...whoopee, more flippy floppy funtime." Riley mumbles, getting totally ignored by Comet...

 

"Robert, would you happen to have a cellphone on your person!?!"

 

As he sees how Fury lands, Maddix quickly backs across the ring and points at Fury which brings up another roar from the crowd. Everyone in the arena seems to know what Maddix is looking for as he shakes off the pain in his leg and 'runs' at Fury. But rather than go for the 605, Maddix simply charges straight at Fury and drives a knee HARD into the small of Fury's back!

 

"Now, that was smart." admits Riley.

 

Fury groans again, the ropes bouncing him back only for Fury to slump right back across the middle rope. Seeing that, Maddix again backs up...

 

 

"SIX!

 

 

OH!

 

 

FIVE!"

 

...and as the crowd chant along with Maddix, he again charges across the ring and this time hooks the top and middle ropes, whipping around and catching Fury square between the eyes with the 605!

 

"YEEEAAAAAHHH!"

 

Back slumps Fury, falling flat out onto the canvas as Maddix pulls himself up on the apron and looks to go up top again.

 

"Okay, I take it all back...Maddix has survived the blip and is now, officially, stupid again."

 

By now, the adrenaline running through Maddix's veins is cancelling out the pain in his leg, with victory too close for Maddix to allow it to effect him. Reaching the top, Maddix stand tall on the top and quickly leaps off the top, touching his knees on the way down with the Frog Splash! Fury curls up into that fetal position again, but is quickly cradled into a pin by Maddix...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

Maddix looks up briefly at Hardcastle to show his displeasure with the count, before pulling himself back up and helping the #9 seed up with him. Slumping into himself, Fury looks to have lost the ability to put up a defiant front now, as Maddix waffles him with a forearm. And a second. A third a Fury drops to a knee. Quickly Maddix hauls Fury up and hooks him for a suplex, with Fury this time unable to block and getting taken over relatively easy. Fury again attends to the ribs, as Maddix backs off the ropes, coming back with the DANGEROUS~! Kneedrop in mind...

 

 

 

...but Maddix thinks better of it, what with the bad knee and all, instead looking for an elbow. Only for Fury to roll out of the way. Cursing to himself as he hurries back up, Maddix tries to get some feeling back in his arm, as Fury drags himself back up.

 

"This may be the battle of seeds 1 and 9, but this has been just as evenly matched as the other quarter finals." Comet comments. "Personally, I feel Fury was unlucky to get the label of ninth seed."

 

"Plus, Maddix was insanely lucky to get the first seeding."

 

"Not to mention the talent in this Cold Front Classic..."

 

"And of course, the fact Maddix was lucky to get the first seeding."

 

"Hmm...I should give up now, right?"

 

"If I were you, yeah."

 

Both men turn to meet each other and it's Fury who reacts quickest, sending a spinning heel kick into the jaw of Maddix! The force sends Maddix luckily, for him, crashing backwards and out of the ring. This gives Fury a brief rest opportunity as Maddix groggily uses the apron to get back to his knees. Fury spots Maddix and starts to leave the ring. But Maddix manages to reach up and CLUB Fury in the side with a right hand, causing Fury to crumple to the canvas. Maddix meanwhile pulls himself back onto the apron and promptly slingshots himself into the ring, looking for a heelo...

 

 

 

...but missing! Fury rolls out of the way causing Maddix to hit nothing but canvas. Maddix does manage to absorb some of the impact, but as he gets back to his feet, Fury suddenly fires off a dropkick to the knee. The force of the kick, plus the momentum of Maddix striding forwards, causes the leg to go flying and take Maddix with it a good foot into the air, before he crashes face-first to the canvas!!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!"

 

"Yowza~!"

 

As Maddix attends to his knee, Fury rolls over and presses down the shoulders for a pin...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

T...

 

 

Quick kickout by Maddix, but it's his knee that's the main problem. And Fury knows damn well, grabbing the leg and quickly placing it across the crook of Maddix's other knee.

 

"Oh, Fury's goin' for it Comet! He's locking to give Maddix some Painful Memories!"

 

"And with the damage done to the knee, this may spell serious trouble for Citizen Maddix!"

 

Stepping his foot inside Maddix's, Fury has Maddix's legs in the Indian Deathlock style set-up and now all he has to do is arch back...

 

 

 

...but, he can't! Fury tries, but his ribs just won't allow him! Fury tries for a second time but again his ribs burn in pain and don't allow Fury to lock in the hold as he would like. Angrily, Fury curses and quickly looks for an alternative, deciding to roll to the side. And in doing so, he rolls Maddix over onto his back...slowly elevating the locked legs to stack Maddix on his shoulders...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TW...

 

 

Shoulder up...

 

 

 

...shoulder down!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TW...

 

 

 

Maddix shoots up off the canvas, managing to roll with the hold some he and Fury both land onto their front. A frustrated Fury quickly releases the hold, kicking angrily at thin air and waiting for Maddix to get back up, which he slowly begins to do, with Megan encouraging him on from the outside.

 

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

 

The crowd are getting behind the ICTV Champion too now, as he gets back up...and gets kicked in the back of the knee. Maddix's leg buckles underneath him but he hangs onto the ropes to prevent falling to the canvas. So Fury kicks him again. Again the knee of the number one seed looks shaky and he looks to get away, using the rope like a handrail to pull himself away. Once Maddix is far enough away though, Fury charges and dives in, chopblocking out the leg from under Maddix and causing him to crash to the mat again. And again, Maddix escapes to the outside as he senses the momentum building against him.

 

"Citizen Fury going after the knee still, which has been his main form of offence in this match. Obviously, kicking someone in the knee isn't going to affect Fury's ribs."

 

"Plus, he's building to Painful Memories."

 

"Very astute observation Robert. It's a shame we don't hear more of that from you."

 

"Blow me."

 

Maddix still has hold of the top rope and uses it to pull himself back up quickly, despite his leg looking increasingly flimsy. Pulling Maddix away from the ropes, Fury now ducks into Maddix and lifts him up for a shinbreaker. But the agile Maddix is able to float over the top, countering with a sunset flip...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

T...

 

 

Fury rolls through, less than majestically...before less than majestically booting Maddix in the face! Unsurprisingly Maddix is knocked loopy from the kick, falling back to the canvas as Fury reaches down and grabs the leg of the seemingly unconscious number one seed. Placing one leg either side of the leg he's holding, Fury then looks out to the crowd and nods...before dropping to his knees, crushing the leg between them! The move is like smelling salts to Maddix and he's awake, howling in pain as Fury gets back up and holds his arms aloft to a mixed reaction from the New York faithful. Fury doesn't seem to care though, as he strides back over to Maddix. In desperation, Maddix kicks out at Fury with his good leg but Fury manages to block the kick before it can connect with his ribs, before stomping down on the bad leg.

 

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

 

"The majority of this crowd are behind Citizen Maddix here. To his credit though, Fury isn't looking too affected by this reaction."

 

"Why should he? A bunch of Yankee doodles chanting 'Maddix, Maddix' aren't gonna cure Maddix's knee, are they?"

 

Pulling Maddix back to his feet, or one foot with Maddix unable to put weight on his right, Fury grabs an arm and pulls Maddix towards a short arm clothesline. Maddix is able to duck though and on one leg fire a few strikes across the ribs of Fury before he can turn around. The blows drop Fury to one knee as Maddix falls backwards into the ropes. Bouncing back, Maddix summons up some strength and launches at Fury, catching him in the BACK of the head with a shining wizard!

 

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

 

The crowd cheer the move, but the cheers die down as Maddix is left clutching his knee after the move, unable to capitalise and make a cover. From across the ring Megan is pounding the apron, willing on Maddix to fight the pain. Pain is clouding Maddix's thoughts at the moment though. Grabbing the ropes, Maddix hauls himself to his feet as Fury is trying to do the same in the middle of the ring. Maddix limps over, driving an elbow into the ribs...followed up with a second. Again Fury is left clutching at his ribs with gritted teeth, as Maddix pulls the Hardcore Gamer to his feet and nails another forearm to the jaw before looking for an irish whip into the buckles. And gets it, with Fury hitting the turnbuckles with force. Out he bounces, into a whip again, sending him into the opposite corner.

 

"Citizen Fury becoming the proverbial pinball at the moment."

 

Bouncing out again, Fury looks to be on the verge of collapse as Maddix grabs Fury again, this time whipping him into the adjacent corner. Fury has now hit three of the four corners and drops to one knee as Maddix smiles.

 

"ONE MORE~!"

 

Calling out, Maddix looks to whip Fury into turnbuckle four. But his attempts to make a memorable sequence fail as Fury spins under the arm and whips Maddix forward into the nearest corner. Hitting them sternum first, Maddix stumbles backwards into Fury, who quickly hooks both of Maddix's arms and looks for a tiger suplex. At first though, his ribs won't allow it. But Fury perseveres and tries a second time, this time putting the agony aside and heaving Maddix back, FOLDING him up on his neck with the Tiger Suplex!!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!"

 

"Sweet Child O'Mine!" Comet says stunned.

 

Not risking a bridge, Fury lets Maddix go and flips his folded body over into a pinning position, hooking the leg with as much pull as his ribs will allow...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH...

 

NOMADDIXKICKSOUT!!!

 

Unhappily, Fury pulls himself to his knees...knowing that a big chance at victory may have just slipped by. But all the same, Fury knows he has momentum and quickly drags Maddix up. Fury ducks in and looks for the shinbreaker again, this time hitting it and allowing Maddix to settle on his one standing leg for a moment. From there, Fury sets Maddix back and looks for a dragon screw. But before he can get it, Maddix springs forward, catching Fury unawares with a DDT!

 

"And that is why Maddix is so dangerous!" gasps Comet. "You can hit him with bundles of offence and he'll still have something left in the tank to shock you with!"

 

Both men are down now…until suddenly, Maddix rolls to his side and locks Fury in an inverted front facelock on the way. Fury tries to twist away before Maddix can lock him in, but can’t…and suddenly finds himself in the Land Of Nod!

 

”YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

 

“Land Of Nod! Land Of Nod! Citizen Maddix with the Land Of Nod!”

 

The crowd pop as Maddix gets the hold locked in, with Fury feeling the effects straight away. So when Maddix re-adjusts his position and sits lower across the back, the pain really starts to show! Fury is being arched in the middle, neck and back being stretched to their limits. And as much as Fury would like to fight it, his ribs must be searing, aching with pain. Desperately Fury starts to reach with hands and feet, looking for the ropes but coming nowhere near…

 

 

”TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP!”

 

 

…as Maddix pulls back again! Fury howls with agony, with Hardcastle right up in his face now, asking if he wants to give it up. But he doesn’t want to.

 

“Look at the pain in the eyes of Christian Fury! His neck and back, injured by Revolution Zero…both being ripped apart by this hold!”

 

“He’s not giving up though! This may not be smart! He’s got a tag partner to think about…”

 

 

 

 

*TAPTAPTAP!*

 

“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

 

*DING DING DING!*

 

“…nevermind.”

 

In the end the pain was too much for Fury, unable to hang on for any longer. In the end, he HAD to tap. Releasing the hold, Maddix looks relieved to have finished things off and rolls quickly from the ring, celebrating simply with a high-five with Megan.

 

“Your winner of the match, advancing through to the semi finals…LANDON “LA CUCARACHA” MAAAAADDIIIXXX!!!”

 

Maddix smiles and raises a hand for the crowd, with Megan supporting him on the right side and helping him to limp off, belt in hand and victory intact. Meanwhile Fury remains laid out face-first in the ring, hand clutched to his back and the other holding his head. As Maddix strolls, or rather limps, off, Hardcastle checks on Fury with his belts in hand. Looking up, Fury sees the belts and snarls to himself as he eases himself into a seated position.

 

“So, Landon Maddix completes the line-up in the last four.” Comet announces. “And for Christian Fury, there will be some SERIOUS grudges for him to hold after tonight.”

 

“Damn right! The way Maddix ruthlessly worked over the ribs, knowing fu…”

 

“I was talking about Revolution Zero, Robert!”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Well, still to come, Toxxic faces somewhat of a unknown quantity. Can Carnage shock the world and become the SWF Champion, or will the Toxxic era continue on? We will find out, NEXT!”

Edited by Ace309

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“Welcome back to Smarkdown, everyone! Tonight’s show is brought to you by the Terrance Bailey School of Taxidermy…stuffing furry animals since 2001!” Bobby Riley’s oddly chipper voice brings viewers back to the show.

 

“Happy aren’t we? Is that the reason you are growing that beard in?” Comet laughs, then continues on, “Coming up in a few scant moments we have Kaine taking on the mysterious masked man known as…”

 

“Oh stop! For the last time—“ Riley tries to cut off the superhero, but he interjects.

 

“I don’t care what you have to say. You have no proof!”

 

“The music? The moves? Todd **bleeping** Cortez!!” Riley lets the f-bomb slip, leading to a slap from his colleague.

 

“Watch it. And still, it could be anyone under that mask, although you aren’t the only one that has been hunting for the truth, Robert, as Revolution Zero made their impact just a few days ago, attacking The Ghost and trying to pull the mask from his face!”

 

“They are just as sick and tired of it as I am!”

 

Riley fumes as Funyon takes his place in the ring, holding the microphone to his lips…

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL and will be fought under Cruiserweight Rules… introducing first…”

 

The ominous tones of “Feuer Frei” explode from the loudspeakers, causing loud boos to erupt from the sold-out crowd.

 

“…hailing from Kassel, Germany…”

 

“BOOOOOOO!!”

 

“….KAAAAAAAAAINE!”

 

Kaine steps through the curtain and into the lights, raising his hands above his head in defiance of the crowd as he heads to the ring.

 

“This man took a loss along with Austin Sly a little over a week ago against the Ghost, let’s see if tonight he can make up for it.” Comet remarks as Kaine rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring, getting to his feet as his music fades away and the lights return to their normal radiance.

 

“I’m head of the class, I’m popular…”

 

“M-V-S! M-V-S!”

 

The crowd wastes no time in beginning their chants as the Ghost steps into the entranceway…

 

 

 

…wearing a Revolution Zero t-shirt!!!

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“What the hell is going on?!” Riley yells, but the Ghost raises his hand up, silencing the angry crowd. With a quick motion of his hands, the Revolution Zero t-shirt is torn from his chest, revealing his signature Hollywood Boulevard attire underneath. With a simple flick of the wrists the shirt is tossed away like garbage, causing the fans to once again erupt in cheers.

 

“Looks like the Ghost wanted a little shock tonight!” Comet exclaims as Funyon continues in the ring.

 

“And introducing his opponent…from Hollywood Boulevard…. GHOOOOOOOOST!!”

 

“M-V-S! M-V-S!”

 

The Ghost takes a jog to the ring, slapping a few hands before sliding under the bottom rope and popping to his feet, getting right into Kaine’s face before easing off and shrugging his shoulders. Kaine does not seem too happy as the music dies down and referee Sexton Hardcastle enters the ring, calling for the bell to start the match.

 

DING DING DING!!

 

Without skipping a beat, the Ghost slides to the outside and props himself against the railing, motioning for Kaine to follow.

 

“What the hell…” Riley remarks as Kaine looks on in bewilderment as the Ghost simply lounges against the barricade. In the ring, Hardcastle can do nothing but start the count…

 

…1…

 

“Well this sure is bizarre, Robert…”

 

The Ghost stays there, motioning for Kaine to join him, but with no luck, as his opponent ignores his calls and stays in the ring, his eyes locked on the masked man taking up his time on the outside.

 

…2…

 

“With a twenty count on the outside, we could be here awhile…”

 

Riley holds in his cursing as Ghost begins to walk, and then jog around the ring, doing laps and causing Kaine and Sexton to spin until finally the masked man is to a run, bursting around the corners like an Olympian.

 

“This isn’t the time and place for Gym Class!” Riley screams out loud.

 

…3…

 

Sexton yells for the Ghost to come back in, but finally Kaine has had enough, and as the Ghost rounds another corner he is met head on by his opponent, who drops him to the canvas with a hard clothesline.

 

“HA!” That’s what he gets!

 

…4…

 

The Ghost’s head strikes the floor and Kaine takes advantage, pulling him up to his feet and throwing him in the ring, wanting nothing more of the shenanigans on the outside of the ring.

 

As Kaine enters the ring, the Ghost tries to get to his feet, but after the silliness of the opening moments of the match, Kaine has seen enough and boots the Ghost down with a hard kick to the side of his head. The crowd boos once more and some even begin to chant, trying to get their man back up and into the match.

 

“M-V-S! M-V-S!”

 

“See Comet, even this crowd knows whose under that mask!” Robert points out, but Comet dismisses it as Kaine drags the Ghost to his feet and throws him into the corner, following up with more hard kicks straight to the chest and midsection, dropping the masked man down onto his back. As he tries to get up, Kaine keeps the pressure on, placing his foot across the Ghost’s neck and pushing down, holding the top rope for leverage. Hardcastle immediately breaks that up, and Kaine obliges, releasing his foot as the Ghost puts his hands across his neck, trying to gain back precious air.

 

But in no time Kaine is back on the attack, pulling the Ghost out from the corner and leaping up, holding on to the top rope and falling to the mat, spreading his body and splashing down across the Ghost’s chest and into a cover!

 

One!

 

 

 

 

 

Two!

 

 

 

NO!!

 

The Ghost barely gets his shoulder up, instinctively throwing his arm over the bottom rope. With a hard pull the Ghost drags himself to the outside and to the floor, but Kaine follows close behind, grabbing the masked man’s head as they both hit the floor and moving toward the railing, jamming the Ghost’s head square into the barricade.

 

SMACK!

 

…1…

 

“BOOOOOOOO!!”

 

From the ring, Sexton calls out towards Kaine, but the feisty cruiserweight blows it off, repeating the blow and putting the Ghost face down on the floor. Fans in the front row jeer and yell at Kaine as he continues his assault, lining up and driving his foot into the Ghost’s temple, wedging the masked man’s head between his foot and the barricade.

 

…2…

 

“Kaine is just taking it to the Ghost right now, and if he keeps this up there might not be much left of him!”

 

…3…

 

Sexton continues his count as the Ghost tries to get up, but Kaine does not stop, this time helping the masked man up. The generosity stops shortly after, however, as Kaine lifts the Ghost up and falls backwards, SLAMMING his head into the steel steps and causing a collective wince from the crowd.

 

TWANG!!

 

“OOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Kaine rolls to his feet and slides into the ring with Sexton yelling at him all the while. Kaine shrugs off the authority and laughs a little, but on the outside the camera watches as the Ghost rolls toward the apron, only for a second masked man to come from underneath the ring, pushing the Ghost under and taking his place, holding his head in pain.

 

“What the bloody hell?” Riley comments, but almost before he can finish the sentence this new masked man crawls into the ring, still holding his head.

 

“I’m as confused as you, Robert…” Comet comments as Kaine walks around Hardcastle and moves to pick the masked man up, unaware of what just occurred on the outside…

 

 

 

 

…only to be rolled straight into a small package!!

 

Sexton hits the mat….

 

 

One!

 

 

Two!

 

 

Three!

 

He kicked out!!!

 

NOOO!!!

 

 

DING DING DING!!

 

 

“I don’t believe what I just saw!!” Riley yells as the Ghost quickly slides out of the ring and begins walking up the ramp as “Popular” explodes from the loudspeakers. Kaine is in complete disbelief, shaking his head with smoke shooting out of his ears, not even sure what just took place.

 

“Barely three minutes into the match and we have a roll-up out of nowhere to end the match, and not even I can explain what just happened! It seems a second masked man entered the match and stole a victory out of Kaine’s hands!!” Comet exclaims as Funyon makes his announcement and Todd Cortez rushes from the outside, meeting the second Ghost on the rampway.

 

“Here is your winner…GHOOOOOOOOOST!”

 

Cortez and the second masked man shake hands and head to the back, both of them raising their hands in victory as Kaine stays in the ring, still scratching his head.

 

”Ladies and Gentlemen it seems that for these past few weeks of Robert’s bickering we have a whole new twist, as apparently Mike Van Siclen has been cloned!” Comet laughs and Riley begins to scream…

 

“I don’t know what I just saw, but I hope Toxxic and Revolution Zero rips both their heads off! They cheated, whomever they are!”

 

“Either way, Todd Cortez as this mysterious man are leaving the ring together, and they seem happy about it. But right now we have to head to our final commercial break…!!” Comet finishes as a replay of the switch plays on the screen as “Popular” continues to play, taking Smarkdown to commercial.

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The SmarkTron flicks briefly, then an image begins to appears. The fans in the Madison Square Garden glance closely at the image before they finally recognizer the face staring back at them from the screen…the unmistakable…FRISCO!

 

The camera is in an uncomfortably close shot where Frisco’s face occupies the entire Smarktron. As he continues to stare out from the screen the audience immediately reacts to the universally despised manager.

 

FRISCO SUCKS

FRISCO SUCKS

FRISCO SUCKS

 

“Oh…Toxxi!” Frisco begins as if addressing the reining SWF Worlds Heavy weight champion.

 

“Right about now you’re sitting in your pathetic little locker room. Your probably drinking some of that shitty Twinings Earl grey tea you guys go ga-ga for over in merry old England” he continues as a sinister smirk begins to form on his face.

 

“You probably have your flunkies…the Revolutionary Zeros…doing their best to pump you up for your big match. Well I have one thing to offer you that those losers don’t...” he states as he takes a moment for dramatic pause.

 

“Common sense!”

 

The camera slowly zooms out to reveal Carnage standing behind Frisco. Also to Frisco’s immediate right is the incredibly sexy Candace wearing a white, oversized AJW T-shirt.

 

“If you had a brain under that silly ass spiked hair do you would realize the futility of stepping into the ring against a man of the nature of Carnage! You would recognize the simple fact that carnage ate more for breakfast this morning that you weight…you would understand that no matter what you do…no matter who you bring with you to the ring…and no matter how much you really want to prove ME wrong…you CAN NOT defeat Carnage!”

 

Again the crowd reacts to Frisco’s visage.

 

FRISCO SUCKS

FRISCO SUCKS

FRISCO SUUUUCKSS!!

 

“Do yourself a favor” Frisco continues. “Take Jet with you. Get a hotel room in a nice, fancy New York Hotel. Maybe go to Atlantic City for a few days. In short call in sick tonight. Just send the title over to us and we’ll handle everything.”

 

BOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“Trust me on this Junior…you don’t want to try to prove Carnage wrong…people get hurt when they try to prove Carnage wrong. The man is a monster…a 307 pound monster that doesn’t exist in comic books or DVD’s…no he is a real life Monster. That is a fact you have to learn to live with!”

 

The Petulant manager pauses to take a sip of his gin and tonic.

 

“I know your friends in Revolution Zero will advice you to fight Carnage…The question is do you feel comfortable listening to those people? I mean when your sitting in that hospital in Nottingham with your entire body in an uncomfortable cast…with a 246 pound nurse trying to slip you a laxative just because she’s a Tom Flesher fan…then will it be worth it?”

 

 

FRISCO SUCKS!!!!

 

The camera once again goes for an uncomfortable close up of the controversial one.

 

“Free Advice Toxxi, get on that Taxi cab now. If you hit the Garden City Turnpike you’ll be in Atlantic City in no time!”

 

Frisco flashes a sinister smile as the SmarkTron fades to black.

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“We’re on Smarkdown! We’re LIVE~ in Madison Square Garden!! And we have a match for the SWF World Heavyweight Title coming up right now!!!” Comet salivates at the camera as the live feed comes back to New York. “I’m CYCLOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNEEEEEEE COMET-”

 

“-and I’m suffering from work-related stress,” Riley snaps, tearing his headset off. “Jesus Comet, is that yodelling in your contract or something?”

 

“It certainly is,” Comet beams, “right under the paragraph stating that I have to be the better-dressed of the two of us!”

 

“If I was in management I’d be suing you right now,” Riley grumbles, apparently unimpressed with his partner’s ensemble of yellow-and-black spandex with matching mask, then checks himself. “No, wait; if I was in management, I’d be firing you right now!”

 

Before the announcer’s sartorial arguments can escalate any further the camera switches to the ring and they take that as their cue to shut up. Standing in the centre of the squared circle is Funyon, bowtie perfectly tied and white shirt crisply pressed, ready to do his duty.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the SWF WORLD... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPIONSHIP!” the veteran announcer booms. He opens his mouth to continue but is interrupted by the lights dimming and a white fog starting to billow up on the entrance stage.

 

‘Let the bodies hit the floor

Let the bodies hit the floor

Let the bodies hit the floor

Let the bodies hit the FLOOOOOOOOR!’

 

‘Bodies’ by Drowning Pool kicks up over the PA system and the curtain to the backstage area is thrust aside as the big man in the mask steps out into Madison Square Garden for the first time!

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

However, unlike other nights Carnage is not alone this evening. Following behind, looking as smug as only he knows how, is a much smaller man in a black suit; a man with a cocky smile and slicked-back hair; in short, a man who could give Saudi Arabia lessons on how to be oily.

 

“Introducing first, the challenger,” Funyon booms as the New York fans greet the new arrival with almost universal approval. “Accompanied to the ring by Frisco-”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“-from Parts Unknown; weighing in at 307lbs... CAAAAARRRRRRRRRR-NAAAAGGGGGGEEEEEEEE!!”

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“The Citizens here in Manhattan seem to be behind Citizen Carnage tonight,” Comet observes, “even if they don’t share the same respect for his manager!”

 

Carnage doesn’t seem to have much time for the fans in spite of their support for him; the masked madman steps up to the ring apron and through the ropes without turning his head right or left, and he makes no motion of acknowledgement once inside. Funyon backs off and for once seems to be almost awaiting the arrival of the defending champion so he can get out of the ring quicker.

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“I can’t understand how or why anyone would cheer that monster when he’s going into the ring against someone with the talent of Toxxic,” Riley says dejectedly.

 

“It’s the universal appeal of a big man in a mask dealing out merry hell on a democratic basis,” Comet answers sagely. “Well-known ratings draw. Just ask the Halloween franchise, or indeed Darth Vader.”

 

Almost before Comet has finished speaking the opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire crashes out across Madison Square Garden as the Smarktron whites out. It quickly darkens to black, and as it does so jagged white letters flash up a familiar slogan:

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG...’

 

As the guitar riff rings out in the Garden the screen changes to the top of a black-haired head that raises and stares out with steel-grey eyes. The screen shifts to show clips from his most famous matches, interspersed with the words ‘STRAIGHT-EDGE SENSATION’ and ‘REVOLUTION ZERO’ before changing again to show Toxxic taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome as four blasts of red pyro climb the entrance ramp, the devastating impact timed to coincide with the final, stagewide eruption-

 

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

 

-that announces the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! Smoke obscures the sound stage for a moment but then two familiar shapes walk through and the Garden explodes into a torrent of boos.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“AND HIS OPPONENT!” Funyon bellows, straining to make himself heard, “accompanied to the ring by Jet; from Nottingham, England, he weighs in tonight at 218lbs; he is the leader of Revolution Zero and the reigning and defending SWF WORLD... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION... the ‘Straight-Edge Sensation’... TOXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!”

 

Toxxic isn’t wearing his title; instead, Jet has it around her waist as the duo approach the ring. The wisdom of this course of action quickly becomes clear as Toxxic steps up to the apron. The straight-edger does not roll into the ring as is his usual practice out of wariness of his opponent’s unstable nature, but even with Toxxic upright and alert Carnage still charges at him before the World Champion has even stepped through the ropes! Thinking quickly, Toxxic ducks his head and slams his shoulder into the midsection of the lunging psycho, and although the impact nearly knocks him back off the apron the unexpected blow blasts the breath out of the monster and gives the straight-edger time to straighten up and use the ropes to slingshot himself in over the back of his bent-double opponent!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“That’ll teach you to try and jump the Hot Commodity!” Riley yells at Carnage.

 

Toxxic doesn’t attempt to bring the 300lber over with a sunset flip but instead completes a somersault and lands on his feet, then heads on at top speed for the far ropes. Frisco yells at his massive charge to turn around and Carnage does so... only to be met with a spinning heel kick to the jaw as Toxxic comes hurtling back! Much to his manager’s dismay the off-balance monster tumbles backwards and falls out through the middle and top ropes to the arena floor where he picks himself up and shakes his head, apparently disorientated.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“This match has certainly started at top speed,” Comet comments as Toxxic steps up to the ropes, “I’m not sure whether it’s in Toxxic’s best interests to slow and down and control the pace or go with his early momentum...”

 

Regardless of Comet’s uncertainty, Toxxic appears to have made his own decision because the Straight-Edge Sensation pulls back on the top rope and slingshots himself back out of the ring with a plancha aimed directly at the torso of Carnage. The chests of the two men collide and Carnage’s right knee buckles...

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

...but the big man catches himself, and indeed Toxxic too as the World Champion suddenly finds himself captured by two huge arms that are clamping him crosswise to the masked madman’s chest! With a wordless roar Carnage sets his sight on the nearest ring post and runs forward, slamming the Straight-Edge Sensation’s back directly into it!

 

*WHAM!*

 

“OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Carnage rebounds off in a half-circle but Toxxic simply drops to the mat, clutching his back in agony. Referee Matthew Kivell leans over the top rope and yells at Carnage to bring the defending champion inside in an attempt to impose some order on the match, and when the monster shows no signs of complying he begins his count.

 

‘ONE!’

 

Although Frisco is beaming from ear to ear at the sight of Toxxic taken down so easily the wily manager quickly scurries over to his masked wrestler and impresses on him the importance of being in the ring. Carnage listens for a moment, then nods and hauls the agonised Toxxic back to his feet and rolls him in under the ropes.

 

“That’s better,” Riley snaps, still hardly mollified, “this is a wrestling match, not a brawl!”

 

“I think Frisco was more worried about Toxxic seeking a countout,” Comet replies as Carnage climbs in after his prey.

 

“Countout?” Riley bristles. “Toxxic would never do that! He’ll beat Carnage fair and square!”

 

“Maybe, but have you ever seen Toxxic dominated so quickly?” Comet asks his broadcast partner. “It could be that one misjudged move has doomed his title run!”

 

Carnage grabs the straight-edger and brings him upright, then hoists the cruiserweight into the air with a military press! The masked madman’s arms remain strong as he begins to press the World Champion above his head... but his right knee again seems slightly suspect, a fact that does not appear to be lost on Jet at ringside. However, the dreadlocked beauty can do nothing at present to inform her boyfriend of this fact as Carnage throws Toxxic up and the Straight-Edge Sensation comes crashing down onto the canvas from eight foot in the air!

 

*BANG!*

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

Madison Square Garden has begun actively chanting for Carnage again rather than just against his opponent; however, the word seems to galvanise the monster to further violence rather than reinforce his self-esteem as he rounds on Toxxic with a snarl. One huge black-gloved hand grabs Toxxic’s hair and brings the straight-edger up to his knees and Toxxic’s desperation right hand to the ribs appears to have little effect on the big man. Carnage hauls him upright and sends the straight-edger into the ropes with a brutal Irish whip, then raises his foot and delivers a stunning big boot to the face. Toxxic rolls away across the ring, clearly only half with-it as Carnage raises both arms and bellows at the crowd. However, what the masked madman doesn’t see is Jet leaning into the ring as far as she can and hissing instructions at her boyfriend. It’s anyone’s guess whether Toxxic is in any state to understand them but the battered World Champion rolls over onto his back as Carnage ceases his roaring at the fans and turns around to approach his opponent...

 

*CRACK!*

 

...and Toxxic slams both feet into Carnage’s right knee.

 

“Arrrrgggghhhhh!”

 

The big man is bellowing in pain now, staggering back as the damage wrought by Sacred on Lockdown is rekindled. Toxxic doesn’t waste his advantage by trying to get back to his feet; instead the straight-edger scoots across the mat towards his opponent and pulls the same trick again-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-prompting another roar from Carnage who briefly drops down as the limb momentarily gives out on him. This time Toxxic does get back to his feet and scrambles to the ropes behind him, rebounding off and launching a basement dropkick as Carnage pushes himself back fully upright...

 

*CRACK!*

 

...and as Toxxic rolls out of the way Carnage falls forward with his right leg completely taken out from under him! Before the bigger man can start to push himself up again Toxxic desperately jumps on top of him and begins to hammer right hands into the back of Carnage’s head. The barrage of blows manages to keep the challenger down for a few seconds, but then Carnage twists under his lightweight tormentor and throws one massive arm backwards to sweep Toxxic from his back. The big man turns himself over and sits up, but-

 

*BANG!*

 

-only receives a dropkick in the face for his troubles that drops him back to the mat. This time Carnage stays down for a couple of seconds, and with his own body having been reprieved of punishment Toxxic now feels able to scramble to the nearest turnbuckle, vault to the top and jump back off with a fist aimed at the big man’s forehead. The blow strikes home and Carnage rolls away clutching his face while Toxxic shakes his fist out, trying to relieve the sting.

 

“Toxxic wisely went to the knee that Citizen Blackwell was working on when he faced Carnage on Lockdown,” Comet notes, “but now the World Champion appears to be going for his normal target of his opponent’s head.”

 

“Comet, you know as well as I do that Toxxic isn’t going to be slapping a hiza-juji-gatame or a Cross Lightning on anytime soon,” Riley snaps, “but he is smart enough to use Sacred’s work to shift the momentum and then apply his normal gameplan from there.”

 

Indeed, Toxxic seems to be recovering from the earlier abuse he’s suffered and the Straight-Edge Sensation is waiting for Carnage to stand up. The masked madman is unaware of his opponent’s location and starts to rise but his progress is suddenly arrested as Toxxic snares the bigger man in a rear headlock, then drops to one knee and drives the other into the back of Carnage’s neck. For a moment Toxxic strains to bring the challenger back up for the second half of the Detoxx, but the combination of Carnage’s great weight and the pain in the straight-edger’s back and ribs means he has to abandon that plan and Carnage is left to slump unceremoniously to the mat instead.

 

“And now we see another interesting aspect to this match,” Comet notes as Toxxic grabs his back before glowering down at his opponent, as if blaming him for weighing so much, “since Toxxic has been used to facing cruiserweights such as Johnny Dangerous, Andrea Montgomery and Annie Onita can the World Champion now readjust to a superheavyweight like his challenger here tonight?”

 

“The only reason Toxxic’s facing cruiserweights is that the big guys like Janus and Aecas gave up and left after being beaten by him,” Riley snorts. “Trust me Comet, he can beat a lummox like Carnage in his sleep.”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

The chants are directed at the World Champion again now, but Toxxic gives no sign of having heard as he gets back to his feet and backs off a couple of steps. Carnage is starting to push himself up, hand going to his masked head as he does so... and Toxxic takes a couple of quick steps sideways before slamming his right boot into the big man’s jaw with a superkick!

 

*WHAP!*

 

The blow strikes home but Carnage doesn’t go down! Instead the challenger staggers back with his right knee threatening to give way again, so Toxxic grabs him and attempts to Irish whip the masked madman into the turnbuckles. Carnage uses his far greater bodyweight to reverse the momentum and send Toxxic in instead but the Straight-Edge Sensation vaults up to the top rope and comes flying backwards, twisting in midair to strike his opponent with a flying leg lariat as an adapted version of the Role Reversal takes Carnage down to the mat.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Toxxic rolls on top of his opponent, hooking one of Carnage’s huge legs as he makes the first pin of the match...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but Carnage kicks out well before three and with considerable power as well, knocking Toxxic clean off him. The straight-edger shrugs as if to say ‘well, it couldn’t hurt’, then gets to his feet and backs off towards the ropes. Carnage is starting to push himself up again and Toxxic begins to move forwards... but Frisco reaches in from outside and grabs his ankle, halting the straight-edger’s progress and nearly tripping him up before turning around and playing to the crowd! The fans seem undecided whether they approve or disapprove of the wily manager’s shenanigans, but as Toxxic turns around with a face like thunder and sees Frisco blowing a lecherous kiss towards the disgusted Jet his course of action is decided. The World Champion takes hold of the top rope, jumps into the air and swings his feet through the gap between the top and middle cables-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-driving his boots hard into Frisco’s back and knocking him forwards into the guard rail!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“FRIS-CO SUCKS!”

 

“FRIS-CO SUCKS!”

 

Toxxic straightens up on the arena floor and grins as the Garden crowd applauds his manager-flattening actions, but then they start to cheer even louder as a big hand reaches down over the top rope and grabs the straight-edger’s hair! Carnage is back on his feet and is quick to capitalise on Frisco’s distraction - although his manager probably hadn’t intended it to be so self-sacrificing - by bringing Toxxic up to the apron despite Kivell’s warnings about the use of hair in the wrestling environment. However, Toxxic manages to grab Carnage’s head in both hands and drops off the ring apron, guillotining his opponent’s throat across the top rope and sending him reeling backwards.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“That’s a cheap shot from Toxxic!” Comet protests.

 

“Carnage had his hair!” Riley points out in exasperated tones. “This is hardly Beelzebub vs Little Bo Peep!”

 

With the bigger man apparently in trouble Toxic climbs back up to the apron, then grabs the top rope in both hands and vaults up onto it before springboarding into the ring, legs extended to wrap around Carnage’s head for a hurricanrana. The Straight-Edge Sensation hits his target right enough but as he leans back to take the challenger over it quickly becomes clear that something is very wrong. Two huge arms wrap around his waist... and Carnage sits out into a piledriver!

 

*BANG!*

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

Toxxic slumps sideways as his skull is driven into the mat by 307lbs of psychopath, and now it is Carnage’s turn to make a pin attempt...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but Toxxic kicks out and Madison Square Garden sits back down as Matthew Kivell signals a two count to the timekeeper.

 

“Now the tables have turned back in the favour of JUSTICE~” Comet declares as the masked madman rolls Toxxic over onto his stomach and begins to sit astride his back, “...and we could be about to see the Camel Clutch!”

 

Sure enough, Carnage has hooked Toxxic’s left arm over his mighty left knee in preparation for the feared submission move. However, Toxxic still has enough wits left to realise his predicament and before Carnage can lock the hold in he slams his right elbow into the monster’s right knee, producing a roar of pain. With everything riding on his ability to escape the hold Toxxic does it again, and again... and as Carnage stands up in an instinctive attempt to get his damaged bodypart further away from his tormentor, Toxxic shuffles backwards out from between Carnage’s legs and hooks him with a schoolboy pin! For a moment Carnage’s weight allows him to resist the movement, but then his right knee buckles and the big man comes over...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but after the surprise of finding himself upside down has worn off Carnage still has plenty left to kick out, and the Straight-Edge Sensation is denied again. Both men get up to their knees, trying to regain the advantage, but it is Carnage who scores by the simple expedient of slamming a fist as hard as he can into Toxxic’s head! The champion topples sideways and Carnage continues on to his feet, then reaches down to grab Toxxic and pull him up as well. Frisco is slowly staring to rise at ringside, and as he does so the slimy manager sees his monstrous client pull the straight-edger into a rear waistlock and bridge backwards with a German suplex-

 

*whump!*

 

-but in trying to make the move more devastating Carnage released his hold at the critical moment, and that’s never a good move against Toxxic as even with his head half-scrambled from the haymaker Toxxic is able to flip through and land on his feet. Carnage realises something didn’t go quite according to plan and starts to push himself up, twisting around to get a bead on his opponent. In his dazed state it takes Toxxic a moment longer than usual to realise he should be doing something, and so when he starts to charge at Carnage the big man is already half-upright. In fact, as Toxxic reaches the challenger Carnage seems to be ready for him and scoops the Brit up into another military press!

 

“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Carnage’s right knee seems dodgy but his left is able to take most of the weight as he presses Toxxic over his head once more! He only does it three times, but then throws the straight-edger as high as he can and steps forward-

 

*whump!*

 

-and Toxxic lands on his feet again. This time Carnage isn’t quick enough, and the World Champion slams a basement dropkick into the back of his right knee.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Carnage is down on one knee, his right leg having buckled. As he tries to rise Toxxic grabs the bigger man as if for a neckbreaker from behind, then twists around and drops sharply so that Carnage’s face bounces off the straight-edger’s right knee-

 

*CRUNCH-WHAM!*

 

-before his skull is driven into the mat with a DDT as Toxxic hits the Sobering Thought! Toxxic rolls Carnage onto his back again and makes another cover as Kivell drops to count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHR-

-but Carnage isn’t going down yet, and the big man fires a shoulder off the canvas to the exasperation of the Straight-Edge Sensation!

 

“Citizen Carnage is giving it everything he has in this breakneck match,” Comet shouts in excitement, “and it’s going to take more than that for Toxxic to retain his title!”

 

“You want more? You’ll get more,” Riley states flatly as Toxxic starts trying to drag Carnage up to his feet. Under normal circumstances the Straight-Edger would have no hope of succeeding, but since Carnage is trying to regain a vertical base anyway the two men both achieve their goal. Toxxic then grabs his opponent’s massive forearm and whips him into the corner before charging in after him a leaping into the air to catch Carnage with a leg lariat across the chest. The World Champion rebounds off his huge opponent with a backflip that sees him land nimbly on the apron as Carnage staggers out of the corner; Toxxic then quickly ascends to the top rope, grabs the masked madman in a rear headlock and comes swinging out with the Final Shine!

 

*BANG!*

 

“Final Shine!” Comet calls in dismay as the back of Carnage’s head is driven into the mat, “will that tornado reverse DDT spell the end for Citizen Carnage’s title dreams?”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHRRRRRRRRRREEEEEE-

-but Carnage kicks out again!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“FRRRREEEEEEAAAAAAAK!”

 

“FRRRREEEEEEAAAAAAAK!”

 

Toxxic looks at Matty Kivell with one eyebrow raised questioningly, but the SWF’s senior official remains adamant. Sighing, Toxxic gets to his feet and backs off a few steps, then throws his arms wide with the palms flat, signalling for the Straight-Edge neckbreaker. It takes Carnage a few seconds to start to rise as the tension builds in Madison Square Garden and Frisco desperately pounds the ring apron, too anxious to see his wrestler get up to care what’s going to happen to him when he’s up there. The big man reaches one knee, braces himself with a hand and starts to push, wobbling slightly as his dodgy right knee takes the weight... Toxxic charges at him from across the ring...

 

...and Carnage turns on a dime, scoops the oncoming straight-edger up and twirls him around in a dizzying ride before driving him down to the mat!

 

*WHAM!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Tilet-a-whirl slam!” Comet shouts as the entire Garden leaps to its feet. “Citizen Carnage was not quite as groggy as he appeared, and Toxxic was taken in!”

 

Carnage can’t capitalise immediately due to the pounding in his head and the monster takes a couple of seconds to suck in air; however, despite Jet’s yells of encouragement the challenger is still able to move under his own power before Toxxic can, and the big man swiftly twists the Straight-Edge Sensation’s body like a pretzel as he lies on the mat, then with a roar of effort he deadlifts him clean off the canvas in position for a pumphandle slam! The monster’s right knee gives out and he falls forward... but he still drives Toxxic down with him, causing the ring to shake and the breath to explode out of the Brit’s lungs!

 

“This shouldn’t be allowed!” Riley screams in frustration. “That man is an animal! A monster! He has no right being in this ring! He should be sent to wherever Terrence Bailey is currently incarcerated and locked up with him!” Desperately seeking allies, the ambiguously-gay colour commentator turns to Cyclone Comet. “Come on Comet,” he pleads, “surely you can see that beneath that mask beats the heart of a villain?”

 

“Robert,” Comet replies with some satisfaction, as Carnage rises to his feet again, seeming stronger than before “as long as he takes the title from Toxxic I don’t care what he is.”

 

“Goddamn superheroes and their goddamn double standards...” Riley hisses under his breath as he watches the events unfolding in the ring.

 

“FRRRRREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAK!!”

 

Toxxic is definitely the worse for wear now, and like a shark sensing blood Carnage moves in for the kill. With one hand the monster reaches down and takes Toxxic by the throat, then hoists him up to his feet as the Straight-Edge Sensation’s hands claw vainly at the iron grip. Matthew Kivell warns the masked madman about his chokehold, but Carnage simply brushes the referee aside... then hoists Toxxic into the air again!

 

“FRRRRREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAK!!”

 

*BANG!*

 

The force of the chokeslam seems like it should drive Toxxic all the way through the ring; Carnage certainly put all of his weight behind it, hardly breaking his own fall in order to get the maximum impact on the defending World Champion. Without wasting a second the big man sprawls across the his opponent, hooking the far leg and leaning into the cover.

 

“Citizens, we could be about to see a MAJOR upset here!” Comet cries as Kivell dives down to count...

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

“Kick out! You can’t let him win!” Riley pleads with his fallen hero...

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

The entire arena holds its breath...

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“He kicked out! Toxxic kicked out!” Comet shouts in disbelief as the Straight-Edge Sensation just manages to squeeze a shoulder off the canvas before Kivell’s hand hits for the third and final time!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

The fans are quick to voice their feelings on that bit of refereeing, Carnage seems to have his doubts as well and Frisco is going apeshit at ringside, but Matthew Kivell remains steadfast even in the face of a monster in a mask and brandishes the damning two fingers. Carnage’s answering growl is audible over the ring mics and the massive man wastes no more time in hauling Toxxic back to his feet once more, then Irish-whipping the straight-edger into the ropes. One big black boot comes up as Carnage prepares to kick Toxxic’s head clean off his shoulders - the World Champion has other ideas however, and he ducks under his opponent’s attack and continues on to the opposite cables! Carnage turns to follow, confused and slightly off-balance, and extends one massive arm for a lariat in an attempt to swat the troublesome cruiserweight down... but Toxxic simply catches the limb and swings himself up onto the big man’s back! For a moment it looks like the Brit is attempting a crucifix pin on his challenger, but then Toxxic readjusts himself and wraps his left arm around Carnage’s throat to lock in a Dragon sleeper...

 

“Repeat To Fade!” Riley shouts in jubilation as Carnage’s body slowly bends backwards, allowing Toxxic’s feet to touch the ground. “It’s all over bar the shouting now!”

 

“Don’t be so sure, Citizen Riley,” Comet answers with sudden hope, “Toxxic has yet to get the move fully locked in!”

 

Indeed, the Straight-Edge Sensation has grabbed Carnage’s right wrist in an attempt to force it up behind the big man’s back in a hammerlock, but Carnage is having none of it! The masked madman struggles for a moment, then easily breaks away from Toxxic’s grip and uses his newly-freed right hand to drive punches backwards into the straight-edger’s ribs. The first blow knocks the breath from Toxxic’s body, the second staggers the World Champion and starts to loosen his hold on the Dragon sleeper...

 

*WHAM!*

 

...so Toxxic simply drops to the ground and drills Carnage’s head into the mat with an inverted DDT, completing the second part of the Detoxx combo that he was unable to manage earlier.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Talk about improvisation!” Riley exclaims in delight as the Straight-Edge Sensation clambers back up to his feet, holding his ribs. “Carnage somehow managed to counter the Repeat To Fade, but the Hot Commodity still comes out on top!”

 

“He sat down, Robert. That’s not exactly a work of genius.”

 

Toxxic heads over to the turnbuckle and grabs the top rope. He knows that he has to strike quickly to regain the advantage, so instead of taking the long way up he simply vaults to the top buckle, then without pausing for a backward glance he corkscrews back off the top, looking to hit home with the Hangover legdrop...

 

*BANG!*

 

...but Carnage moves!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The masked madman starts to push himself up as Toxxic writhes around on the mat clutching his jolted back, but the Straight-Edge Sensation is well aware of what’s at stake and desperately tries to regain his feet too. Toxxic is quicker up and starts to stagger towards the semi-upright Carnage in an attempt to cut him off, but Carnage suddenly grabs the approaching Brit, hoists him up onto his shoulders and then falls backwards into a Samoan Drop!

 

*WHAM!*

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

The chants are ringing out over Madison Square Garden and Frisco is clasping his hands together in glee while across the ring, Jet is looking decidedly worried. Carnage’s head turns this way and that, looking around at the fans... and the big man gets up.

 

“Cover him! Cover him!” Frisco shouts urgently, the delight disappearing from his face, but Carnage is resolutely heading away from the straight-edger.

 

Towards the turnbuckles.

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

Carnage steps out through the ropes to the ring apron and begins to climb. His knee slows him slightly but he is still scarily fast for a 300lber, and for one second the biggest man in the SWF stands on the top buckle, arms raised above his head as the crowd goes nuts and the flashbulbs go off by the dozen.

 

“What the hell are you thinking!? GET DOWN FROM THERE!!” Frisco bellows at the top of his lungs, but whatever sanity is left in Carnage’s brain isn’t listening to his manager anymore; it’s listening to the desire to crush his pathetic opponent against the mat. Granted, Carnage does come down - just not quite in the way Frisco had in mind.

 

“Psychos are gonna fly, Comet!” Riley bellows as the masked madman leaps off the top buckle, his limbs moving through the frog splash motions as 300lbs of deranged wrestler hurtles down towards the fallen World Champion.

 

*BANG!*

 

But Toxxic moved.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Citizen Carnage took a risk, but unfortunately it did not pay off!” Comet declares in tones of abject disappointment as the challenger hits the canvas hard with his ribs. “I am sure the frog splash would have won Carnage the match, but Toxxic was able to evade his larger opponent and now we’re back to a stalemate again!”

 

“Not for long,” Riley says tensely, “I think Toxxic has something up his sleeve!”

 

Carnage is pushing himself up again, the big man not yet willing to give up in his quest for the title. Wincing from the pain in his own ribs, Toxxic carefully manoeuvres around until he is standing behind Carnage, almost directly in front of the turnbuckles the masked madman dived from. Responding to Frisco’s desperate shouts of ‘behind you!’ Carnage turns to find the Straight-Edge Sensation waiting for him... and Toxxic immediately snares the wheezing psycho in a three-quarter facelock and heads for the corner! The World Champion runs straight up the pads and flips back over Carnage’s head...

 

...but Carnage raises both massive hands and catches Toxxic in midair, holding the straight-edger still in the midst of the Inotoxxication!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

For a moment muscle power fights against gravity as Carnage strains to gain control; then suddenly the big man wrenches at his opponent’s body, breaking Toxxic’s facelock and bringing the World Champion down to land ribs-first across the challenger’s right shoulder. Carnage raises one black-gloved hand and makes a thumbs-down sign... then starts to pull Toxxic head-downwards!

 

“Tombstone Piledriver!” Comet shouts as Madison Square Garden erupts, “if he hits this, it’s over!”

 

But Toxxic isn’t finished yet. He desperately starts flailing with his elbow and manages to land one, two, three shots right between Carnage’s eyes. The big man’s hands come up to try and block them, and with his body now released Toxxic slides backwards off Carnage’s shoulder... and hooks in a Dragon sleeper as he goes.

 

“NO!” Frisco shouts, but even he can’t help his charge now.

 

Carnage’s body bends backwards as the challenger tries to remain on his feet and keep leverage, but Toxxic’s feet have touched the ground now and the straight-edger is in control. Mindful of the fact that he failed in his attempt to hammerlock Carnage’s arm last time Toxxic improvises and punches his right hand through between the masked madman’s right arm and his body to create a loose chickenwing, then locks in the hold by clasping his left wrist with his right hand. The adapted version doesn’t give the same torque on the right arm as the classic Repeat To Fade, but try as he might Carnage can’t free himself.

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

Toxxic takes a deep breath, jumps into the air... and wraps his legs around Carnage’s upper body, pinning his left arm to his side.

 

*BANG!*

 

The impact of Carnage landing on top of him is almost enough to jar the straight-edger’s grip loose, but he grits his teeth and holds on. Long experience has told him that’s all he has to do now. Aecas wouldn’t tap, but he passed out. Danny Williams wouldn’t tap, but he passed out.

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

Matthew Kivell bends down to check on the masked madman’s condition, but the eyes are still wild and wide and Carnage doesn’t give up.

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

And Carnage doesn’t give up.

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

And Carnage doesn’t give up.

 

“FRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!”

 

...and Carnage goes limp.

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Toxxic keeps his trusted submission hold firmly applied even when ‘Rookie’ crashes in and Kivell starts shaking him. It is only when Funyon’s voice cuts through the tirade of abuse that is filling the air in the Garden that Toxxic finally relaxes his grip.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and STILL~ SWF World Heavyweight Champion... TOXXXXXXXX-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!”

 

The Straight-Edge Sensation pushes Carnage off him and stands up, wheezing slightly from the abuse his midsection has taken but still perfectly able to snatch his title belt from Matthew Kivell and raise both hands in the air. Frisco looks halfway between concern for his charge and anger at Carnage’s failure - either way the slippery manager shies away from Toxxic as the World Champion rolls wearily out of the ring and sets off up the entrance ramp, while Jet blows him an ironic kiss.

 

“Citizens, Toxxic has pulled out yet another victory,” Comet says gloomily. “For a few moments there it looked as if Citizen Carnage would be able to score a major upset and dethrone the arrogant Straight-Edge Sensation, but it was not to be. I suspect we will now have to put up with his boasting and obnoxious behaviour until the Christmas pay-per-view, whence this superhero can only hope that some worthy challenger inspired by the fires of JUSTICE~ will have stepped forward to rid the SWF of this heinous man.”

 

“Dream on, Spandex boy,” Riley laughs, “this title’s staying where it is for a loooong time.”

 

At the top of the entrance ramp Toxxic turns and looks back out at Madison Square Garden. The thousands of fans in the sold-out arena are universally staring at him and chanting abuse, but right now, at this moment in time, he is the most important figure in their world. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Lopsided smile creeping over his face, Toxxic raises the World Title for all to see.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

 

Copyright 2004, Smartmarks Wrestling Federation

‘Raising workrate by typing faster’

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And that's a wrap, folks.

 

No real surprises in the first round of the Cold Front Classic, a very nice, albeit short, Ghost/Kaine match, and what I hope to high heaven will be an awesome Penn Station Brawl. Not to mention the incredible outcome of Toxxic/Carnage... but I'll let you read that one on your own.

 

Card will be up after a very special match is edited in. Nice effort tonight though, guys. Colour me impressed.

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