SWF Storm 9-2-05

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Earlier today...

 

 

Our scene opens up inside of the home team locker room for the _____. The room is mostly dark, but there's enough light radiating out from around the corner that we can see one man's shadow, as well as light bouncing and reflecting off of the well-kept rows of lockers. The room is silent, but a shadow stands undaunted in the light. The outline of a man stands brave and tall... but is approached from behind by another one. A small voice with a lisp trickles through the air.

 

"Excuse me. Excuse me? Mr. Riley?"

 

"Ahh! Oh God... you startled me!" The voice of Robert Riley echoes through the locker room.

 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Riley. I didn't mean to startle you... but... can I ask you a question?" the voice just barely squeaks out.

 

"Shoot, kid. But then get lost."

 

"Well... actually it's more like two question."

 

"Ugh..." Bobby sighs, "okay, shoot twice, then."

 

"Okay... first... what are you doing in the men's locker room with those binoculars?"

 

"Oh... well, oh! I almost forgot that I had these! I was just..." Riley struggles for the right word. "Bird watching."

 

"Bird watching?"

 

"Uh..." Robert seems to pause to study his unexpected companion. "Talent scouting?"

 

....

 

 

"What was your other question?" Riley breaks the silence.

 

"Do you know where I can find Cyclone Comet?" The voice says, a little pryingly.

 

"Me? No... I don't have any idea. As far as I'm concerned, you can keep that little masked freak away from me and away from the Smarks Wrestling Federation. Everyone knows that I carried that team."

 

"Well, I was just thinking, since you two were announcing partners..."

 

"Does that make us friends?" Riley pops the rhetorical question, and then answers himself. "No, it doesn't."

 

"Oh... well, in that case..."

 

"Wait..." Riley's voice grows suspicious, "haven't I seen you before?"

 

*Click.*

 

The lights go out completely in the locker room! There's various yells and crunching sounds as if there's a scuffle! And then in one blow...

 

*WAM!*

*Click.*

 

Earlier today...

 

 

All the lights in the locker room come on, and in the middle of the rows of lockers stands Heff and The Crimson Skull, dripping wet and wearing only a towel. The now out-cold announcer drapes limply over the hulking two hundred and eighty-five pound super villain's shoulder. Skull smiles with a look of approval, while Heff kind of frowns a little.

 

"A job well done, Heff! Once we get him out of this locker room, we can commence with our plans of torture until he gives us the information we want!" Skull's voice booms.

 

"Did you have to knock him out? I quizzed him... he doesn't seem to know anything!"

 

"It was no use, Heff," Skull consoles his assistant. "You simply don't have the backbone to drive out answers like I do. After all, that's why you're just my assistant. You suck."

 

"Oh..." Heff says, sadly.

 

"But still, job well done and all that positive re-encouragement crap!"

 

"Thanks..."

 

"Now... I have a question for you, Heff! How did you know that Bobby Riley would be in the men's locker room?"

 

"I asked around. That's where he always hangs out during shows."

 

"But why did I have to take a shower to keep him in here?"

 

"It was the only way to reassure that he'd stay here." Heff smirks, "don't worry, Skull. I'm sure he didn't enjoy it anymore than I did."

 

"Wait... don't you mean 'anymore than you did'?"

 

"That's what I said." Heff's eyes dart from side to side.

 

"Or... 'anymore than I did'... or... you know what I mean!"

 

 

 

To Be... Continued...

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The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...

SWF STORM, SEPTEMBER 2ND, 2005, LIVE FROM THE PARKING LOT OF THE CONSECO FIELDHOUSE IN INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA!

(8:00 pm EST, 5:00 pm PST, check local listings. card subject to change.)

 

MAIN EVENT

SWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS

Wild and Dangerous (Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous, SWF Tag Team Champions) v. Beauty and the Beast (Zyon and "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins)

-> When did we hire Stephen Joseph, again? Well, the Lockdown commissioner (or so he claims...) has bared all to Spike Jenkins, and has also extended his power to Storm, making a standard-rules tag match between the dysfunctional current champs, Wild and Dangerous, and Jenkins and his partner, Zyon. Fresh off of losing the World Heavyweight Championship to Danny Williams, Johnny cannot possibly be too happy, but who will he channel his aggression at: his opponents, or his partner?

Rules: Standard tag affair.

 

SWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP

SLAMMIN' IN THE RAIN!

Marcus Ward (SWF Hardcore Champion) v. Bruce Blank

-> Blank impressed on Smarkdown, and CC is rewarding him with a chance at Hardcore glory on tonight's show! But if the forecast is right, things are going to get a little wet...

Rules: Boys, a thunderstorm is going to be hitting Indianapolis immediately before your match begins. It will be clearing up immediately after your match ends. Feel free to write said thunderstorm in any way possible. Falls count anywhere, no disqualifications, win by pinfall or submission.

 

HARDCORE MATCH

"Urban Legend" Todd Cortez v. JJ Johnson

-> So Landon Maddix, JJ Johnson, and Jay Hawke are the next big thing in the SWF, you say? That's dynamite for them, and bad news for Todd Cortez, who now has not one but three men as his sworn enemy. Landon's sending JJ Johnson after Cortez on Storm, and with no rules, this one could get nasty.

Rules: None.

 

TWO-ON-TWO MATCH

TKO v. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and "The Dean Of Professional Wrestling" Jay Hawke

-> While JJJ is busy with the Urban Legend, the other two-thirds of Meat Festival 2005 will be taking on EVIL TAG SENSATION TKO. Will the newcomers score another impressive victory, or will two of the best in the SWF show TKO who's really the boss?

Rules: None.

 

Also Appearing: Danny Williams won the World Heavyweight Title on Smarkdown. On Storm, there's going to be a long line of people looking to face him at Genesis. Who will they be? Also, word has been going around that Jay Hawke has choice words for Zyon, and vice versa.

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As SWF Storm comes on the air, the first thing the viewers at home are treated to is a jarring image of El Luchadore Magnifico and Johnny Dangerous arguing fiercely in the center of the ring, surrounded on all sides by booing fans.

 

"Well, welcome to SWF Storm, everyone." Pete halfheartedly greets. "As you can see, we've had a less than pleasant start to the show so far."

 

King suddenly butts in. "See, what happened was, Johnny came out before the show had even started, ranting and raging about losing the title to Danny and demanding a rematch right then and there. That's when Magnifico came out and said that, rematch clause or no rematch clause, he's got the next shot at Danny."

 

Pete sighs. "Things escalated from there, and the two of them have been shouting mindlessly at each other for about five minutes now."

 

The fans suddenly seem tired of the entire act and just begin booing as loud as they can, as if they can make Johnny and ELM vanish by doing so.

 

"Fellas, fellas, knock it off already! Christ!"

 

Tens of thousands of eyes turn towards the entrance ramp to see the origin of the interrupting voice and see that it is none other than mysterious SWF Power-That-Be Joseph Peters! Magnifico and Johnny abruptly stop arguing and turn to Peters, staring at him coldly as he paces the entrance ramp.

 

"Now, Johnny, you've got a point in that you're entitled to a rematch." Peters begins, drawing a wave of boos from the crowd and a triumphant smile out of Dangerous. "But it's also true that Magnifico claimed the next shot at Danny well before winning the title."

 

"So, here's what we're gonna do. Tonight, right in this very ring in this very parking lot, it'll be Magnifico vs. Johnny for the #1 Contendership to the World Heavyweight Title! The winner will face Danny Williams in the Main Event of Genesis VI!"

 

The reaction from the audience is raucous but mixed. The match'll be great, sure, but did it have to feature these two assholes? Johnny doesn't seem particuarly pleased either, as he leans over the ropes and screams at Peters for basically stealing his rematch.

 

"And hell, just to make it interesting..." Joseph continues, "It'll be a Hardcore Match!"

 

Now THAT gets the full support of the crowd, as at least there's good chance that both men will suffer severe bodily harm tonight. This only further infuriates Johnny, who basically flies into a rage as a devious grin slowly grows across Magnifico's face.

 

"Aww, don't be mad Johnny." Peters says in a calming tone. "This gets you out of your Tag Title defense, if nothing else. That'll be on another show."

 

"Now, the two of you behave until your match, okay?" Peters sweetly requests. "Best of luck, gentlemen."

 

With that, he turns on his heel and disappears behind the curtain, followed by the grateful cheers of the capacity crowd.

 

"At least SOMETHING good came out of all this nonsense." Pete finally comments. "We've got a new Main Event, in which El Luchadore Magnifico will take on Johnny Dangerous for a shot at the World Heavyweight Title at Genesis V! It's gonna be great, so make sure to stick around!"

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The door the the SWF’s mobile administrative offices bursts open as Hollywood Spike Jenkins storms through it.

 

“What. The. (BLEEP)!” Jenkins screams at Joseph Peters. “What the (bleep) just happened?”

 

“Well, Spike,” explains Peters, “as you know, I’m the commissioner for Lockdown; I don’t really have much authority over this show, and I’m pretty much just here as a liaison for the Championship Committee, so…”

 

“Bull-(bleep),” replies Jenkins. “You can’t just sit there and let those two (bleep) weasel their way out of defending their titles AGAIN! (Bleep), they haven’t defended the (bleep)-damned belts since they won them from Maddix and Cortez! And now, you’re going to let Johnny wrestle for a shot at the World Title? And, if he wins, they can go for ANOTHER two months without defending the Tag belts? Horse-(bleep)! I want my shot, and I want it TONIGHT!”

 

“I’m afraid that there’s not much that I can do there, Spike,” replies Peters. “The Championship Committee has decided that El Luchadore Magnifico should have to beat someone in the Heavyweight Division before he can be declared the Number One Contender to the World Heavyweight Championship, and with Genesis only a couple of weeks away, this is something that had to be decided!”

 

“So what the (bleep) happens to me, then?” roars Jenkins. “What happens to MY shot?”

 

“Excuse me.”

 

Hollywood spins around to find himself face-to-face with the Wildchild. “I couldn’ help but overhear you an’ your… grievance,” says the Bahama Bomber. “An’ I’m here to offer you a solution to your problem.”

 

“Go ahead, Mister LeCroix,” says Peters. “Any solution that you could offer would be greatly appreciated.”

 

“Well,” says Wildchild, “de match was already signed for de titles here tonight… Jus’ because Johnny has somet’in’ else on his plate, doesn’ mean dat Wild an’ Dangerous won’ defend de titles.”

 

“You mean to say that Johnny Dangerous has agreed to pull double-duty?” asks a slightly surprised Peters. “Knowing that it could compromise his opportunity to challenge for a third World Heavyweight Championship? I have to say that I’m a little impressed; I had heard a few unsavory things about his character here lately, and I…”

 

“Well… uhh… not exactly,” replies Wildchild, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gon’ defend the titles… by myself.”

 

“Oh! I can’t ask you to do that, Mister LeCroix!” says Peters. “We’ll re-schedule for Lockdown, and you and your partner can defend the titles then.”

 

“No need,” replies Wildchild. “I’ve had enough of monsieur Jenkins an’ his accusations. I’m gon’ defend de honor of Wild an’ Dangerous here tonight.”

 

“Yeah, right,” scoffs Jenkins. “Let me guess; after we beat you tonight, you’ll find some kind of loophole to get out of giving up the belts, and I’ll get screwed again!”

 

Wildchild shakes his head in response. “I’ll bring both belts to de ring, Spike; if you an’ Zyon beat me, I’ll hand you de belts myself.”

 

Spike looks at his longtime rival skeptically. “This had better not be some kind of trick!”

 

“On my mother’s grave,” replies Wildchild, “I swear dat I’m on de level!”

 

“Alright then,” says an apparently mollified Jenkins as he brushes past Wildchild, “shine those belts up for me, because I’m going to be taking them from you in about a half hour!”

 

With that, Wildchild watches Spike as he leaves the office, slamming the door behind him. “Thank you, Mister LeCroix,” says a grateful Peters. “This Number One Contender situation put us in an awful predicament, and I appreciate you taking the initiative in this matter… Err, are you sure that you don’t want us to select a surrogate partner for tonight?”

 

“No need,” replies Wildchild. “Frankly, dere’s not anybody else in de fed right now dat I’d feel comfortable trusting the fate of my titles with, so I’ve probably got as good a shot by myself as I would with anyone else.”

 

“Very well,” says Peters. “Thank you again, and good luck!”

 

“No pobo,” replies Wildchild, as he heads out of the office. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a match to get ready for!”

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Storm returns, and Ben Hardy is standing in the ring with two podiums, much like you'd see in a college lecture hall, facing each other on either side of the ring.

 

Hardy: "Ladies and gentlemen, here tonight we are going to hold 'The Great Debate' featuring your participants in the International Championship match coming up in two weeks at Genesis VI. May I introduce to you first ... he is the current two-time International Champion ... Jay Hawke!"

 

As the familiar strains of Pink Floyd's "Learning to Fly" come over the makeshift PA, Jay Hawke makes his way to the ring. In preparation for his match later tonight, he is already in his wrestling gear, sans his normal purple and black glittery robe. That doesn't keep him from wearing his International Championship belt around his waist, nor does it stop the crowd from getting in their familiar chant:

 

 

"JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!"

 

 

Jay Hawke ignores the chants from the crowd as he walks through the parking lot and enters the ring, taking the furthest podium away from the aisle.

 

Hardy: "And his opponent at Genesis VI ... ZYON!"

 

The crowd immediately goes insane knowing the home state hero is on his way. “Vitamin” plays over the PA system as Zyon quickly makes his way down to the ring. All of the theatrics has been left in the back as Zyon rolls under the bottom rope and walks over to his podium. The youth dressed in usual khaki shorts and a t-shirt calmly waits as the crowd is in a frenzy.

 

Z…Y…O…N!!!!!!

 

The crowd chants as Hardy begins the ceremonies.

 

Hardy: "You guys have exchanged a lot of harsh words ... and actions ... over the past several weeks. This is your chance to say exactly what's on your mind, right to your opponent's face. Jay Hawke, the first question is for you. You've been saying Zyon is unworthy of getting this title shot. Why don't you consider him worthy of the title shot? You have 60 seconds to respond."

 

Hawke: "It's very simple, Hardy. This man in front of me has done nothing to earn the respect of anybody in that locker room. He came out and won the hardcore title in nearly record time ... and he's gone nowhere fast. Remember, this is a man who was on a pretty solid losing streak until his non-title match with Marcus Ward a few weeks ago. This is a guy who is so desperate to be perceived as a hotshot in this company that he's teaming with Spike Jenkins, who doesn't even have the respect of his own grandmother. Not to mention that if this guy knows any actual wrestling holds, it's completely beyond me, since I've never seen one. Remember kid, the "W" in SWF stands for "wrestling", not "what flip can I do off the top rope now". And "W is also the first letter of "winner". I am a winner. You're ... well, since I'm in a good mood, not a winner. Plain and simply put, you need to beat me more than I need to even think about you. This belt around my waist is all the proof I need to show that I'm the best wrestler in this company..."

 

Hardy: "Sorry, Jay, but we're out of time. Zyon, your rebuttal."

 

Zyon: “The “W” must also stand for whiner in your case. Dude c’mon for someone so sure of himself you can’t even see three feet past your ego. You come out here with the same exact spiel every damn week. You make fun of my name, and then you go into a long drawn out self promotional static ending in “I’m the best wrestler, HUZZZAAA!” Oooo you pointed out I was on a losing streak. My you’ve studied well. Those loses have also come from great competitors like Wildchild, Scott Pretzler, and El Luchadore Magnefico. Your greatest win and worse loss have came from the same person the one the only…Arch Griffon! Yep you sure got me beat no doubt about it.

 

Zyon finishes with ultimate sarcasm.

 

Hardy: "Alright, with that being said. Zyon, your question. No matter what you think about Hawke's comments, there's no denying that he's among the best pure wrestlers in the entire SWF today. How do you intend on competing against the technical ability of Jay Hawke?"

 

Zyon: “Compete? I’m not going to compete with a few head locks and an arm bar. Yes his technical style is tried and true, but so his my “What flip can I do next style.” I’ve won matches and he’s won matches. Yet I guess I’m inferior or something since you know Jay you’re “the best wrestler in the company, HUZZAAA!” Please…

 

Hardy: "Time's up. Jay, your response."

 

Hawke: "You know, there's room in professional wrestling for all styles. There's no doubt about that. But there's a place on the card for them, too. Those who can work go at the top of the card. The hardcore weapons-style brawls go at the bottom of the card. Your style? Middle of the card. And I'd like to say 'stick to chasing the cruiserweights', but you'd end up getting squashed by JJ Johnson in thirty seconds flat. And at Genesis, I'll prove that by tying you in knots and..."

 

Hardy: "Time!"

 

Hawke: "Don't you DARE interrupt me again."

 

Hardy: "Sorry, Jay, but we're nearing our commercial commitments. But I will allow each of you to get some parting words in. Jay, you're first. You have 30 seconds."

 

Hawke: "Face it, Zirtone. You're outclassed 15 ways from Sunday. You want to be a champion? Fine. Go out and win the tag team titles in the main event and be a champion. But if you think for one minute there's going to be any result at Genesis VI other than me retaining this title ... well, hand me whatever it is you're smoking, because I know a guy in the alley down the street that will pay top dollar for it."

 

Hardy: "Zyon, you've got 30 seconds to respond."

 

Zyon: “You’re a fool. You may be Mr. Technical but I’m a student. I’m a prodigy. Hell I’m even a hot shot, as you will put it. I take inches and make them miles. I take seeds and make them bean stalks. You take competition and you make a mockery out of it. You take being the best wrestler and you use it to scare the weak minded. Jay I’m not scared. And most of all you egotistical Bitch, you think of yourself as the king. This Sunday come hell and high water I will dethrone you. And all the king’s horses and all the King’s men won’t be able to put Jay Hawke’s ego back together again.

 

Hardy: "And with that, we're just about out of..."

 

Hawke: "Wait a second, Hardy. I've got a question for Zenith here. Why do you want this shot so bad?"

 

Zyon: "Simple. I want that belt your wearing around your waist."

 

Hawke: "You want this belt?"

 

Jay Hawke slowly begins to take the title belt off of his waist.

 

Hawke: "I'll give you this belt right now!"

 

Both men quickly knock their podiums over as Jay Hawke charges with belt in hand. Zyon ducks the belt shot and immediately stands up, leaping up and dropkicking the International Champion in the face. Hawke drops the belt as he hits the canvas. As Hawke starts making his way to his feet, Zyon runs off the ropes. He extends his left arm for a clothesline, but Hawke ducks underneath it and hooks it behind Zyon, quickly getting the crossface and scissoring the arm to finish off the Wing Span.

 

Pete: "Jay Hawke has Zyon caught in the Wing Span again! Get security out there!"

 

King: "Why? The punk had it coming!"

 

Before Zyon has a chance to think about whether he wants to tap out to it again or not, security makes their way to the ring and pulls Hawke off of his fallen challenger. Hawke quickly frees himself, but he doesn't try to reapply the hold. Instead, he simply picks up the title belt and stand over Zyon, leaning in and saying...

 

"I already told you. When you asked for this title shot, you bet your own life. And at Genesis, I'll be taking it from you."

 

Jay Hawke spits on Zyon, still on the mat clutching his shoulder, as we fade to commercial

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The sky has grown dark over the parking lot of the Conseco Fieldhouse, but the headlights of the various cars drawn up around the ring combined with the floodlights the SWF has rigged up provides more than enough light. It is a pleasantly balmy evening (although are those some thunderheads moving up from the South-West?) and everyone in attendance is having fun.

 

Well, they’re drunk anyway. Same thing.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Hardcore Tornado Tag match scheduled for one fall,” Funyon booms. “Introducing first…”

 

*WAAAAHHHHHHH*

 

*DUM-DUM*

 

The speakers that are dotted around the parking lot suddenly blast out the familiar sounds of Incubus’ ‘Megalomaniac’, which is the cue for frenzied booing from the Indianapolis faithful. Everyone knows the person that music heralds, and sure enough a sleek black stretch limo pulls up at the end of the cleared pathway that will serve as tonight’s entrance ramp. The door opens and out steps…

 

“God, I hate this guy,” Suicide King complains as Landon Maddix emerges, resplendent in ring attire and his signature sleeveless leather trenchcoat. “It’s bad enough that he’s still in the SWF, but the fact that he’s now somehow brought two otherwise intelligent men around to his way of thinking… it’s enough to make you despair of the human race.”

 

Landon adjusts the hang of his coat and flips his blond hair back as he steps aside to make way for the limo’s other occupant; moments later, the SWF International Champion Jay Hawke appears with his purple and black robe wrapped tightly around him and his title belt buckled over the top. The two men exchange an arrogant smirk, then start to make their way between the baying fans towards the ring.

 

“…from Cleveland, Ohio;” Funyon continues, “weighing in at 215lbs, he is the reigning SWF International Champion; ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’… JAAAAYYYY… HAAAWWWWWKE! And his tag team partner, from Huron, South Dakota; weighing in tonight at 222lbs… LANDON… ‘LA CUCARACHAAAAA’… MAAAAAAAD-DIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXX!!”

 

“Well, they’ve both certainly done their best to look good for tonight’s Academy Awards ceremony,” Longdogger Pete says with a unfamiliar snideness. “Where do you think Landon got that coat, King?”

 

“Oh, almost certainly Jean-Paul Gautierre,” King replies. “Either that or he picked it up off a dumpster after some 12 year-old goth grew out of it. I mean,” the Gambling Man continues, “a knee-length leather coat? Without sleeves? Did Megan Skye dress him as well as win his matches for him?”

 

Landon and Hawke have now reached the ring, blissfully ignorant of the fact that they have actually managed to unite King and Pete on something, whereupon they shed their respective long garments and get down to their ring attire. It is noticeable however that Jay Hawke has not just brought his title belt along tonight; a lead pipe it clutched in his right hand, ready for the hardcore to be brought.

 

“Well, I can say this with some satisfaction,” Longdogger Pete begins, “whoever wins this match tonight, all four men involved are going to get hurt. Given who those men are, I like that.”

 

“Hey!” King says, pointing, “Landon’s limo driver hasn’t moved! How are TKO meant to park up?”

 

Careless parking doesn’t seem to faze the SWF’s production crew though, and they cue up ‘Tribe’ by Mad Capsule Markets. The pulsing techno beat reverberates around the parking lot, and it is only after a few seconds that another sound becomes audible. A sound suspiciously like… an engine. A very big engine.

 

“Um… I don’t think that’s going to stop them, King,” LDP says, craning to look over his shoulder.

 

Landon and Hawke are looking as well, and more and more of the audience turn curiously to see what has caught their attention. Now there can be no doubt; there is a large vehicle approaching, with a big engine and lots of headlights.

 

“This is gonna be great,” King says confidently. Landon doesn’t agree.

 

“MOVE! MOVE!” he desperately yells at the limo, but to no avail. The driver seems to have decided that he’s done with his job for the evening and he’s staying put.

 

Which would be an entirely sensible option, if it wasn’t for the FUCKING HUGE MONSTER TRUCK WITH ‘TKO’ PAINTED ON THE SIDE OF IT COMING UP BEHIND HIM!

 

*KEERRRUUUUNNNNCCCCCHHHH-SSSSMMMMAAAASSSHHHH!!*

 

Sorry, make that OVER THE TOP OF HIM!

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

As if on cue the first guitar riff hits, and the doors of the truck pop open to disgorge two vinyl trenchcoat-wearing Japanese men in mirror shades, who athletically drop the ten feet or so to the ground!

 

“TRRRRIIIIIIIBBBBBBEEEEEEEEE!”

 

“Why don’t you strike, justify your mind!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

KOJI Kitano and TORU Takahara grin and give the chanting crowds the bird (only one hand each, as KOJI has a black steel pipe in the other, while TORU is carrying a glass bottle) as they saunter down the ‘entrance ramp’ towards the totally gobsmacked Maddix and Hawke in the ring. Landon in particular can merely point at the wreckage of his former transportation with his mouth opening and shutting but no sound emerging.

 

“AND THEIR OPPONENTS!” Funyon bellows, trying not to piss himself laughing, “from Saitama Prefecture, Japan; at a combined weight of 483lbs, they are TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano… TEEEEE! KAAAAAYY! OOOOOOHHHHHH!!”

 

In the background Chris Card can be seen dismounting from the TKO Truck, although Natasha seems less eager to chance the drop in her heels. Meanwhile the initial shock has worn off for La Cucaracha and Landon swears violently and slaps Hawke on the shoulder, leading to the duo quickly bailing from the ring and charging their opponents!

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The crowd are more than happy to see the fight get started right away; Landon is quicker over the ground than Hawke and makes for TORU, while the International Champion heads for KOJI. Unfortunately for Landon, he doesn’t even make it to his target.

 

*FFFFFFFFSSSSSHHHHHHH!*

 

“Sake mist!” King bellows as the contents of TORU’S bottle are revealed when the big man spits a spray of potent Japanese alcohol into Landon’s eyes. Maddix stumbles and almost falls at the feet of the big man who raises the bottle to smash it over his opponent’s head, then thinks again and takes a healthy swig before replacing the lid and hurling it backwards over his shoulder to Chris Card (who makes a casual, one-handed catch). Meanwhile Hawke and KOJI have met with an attitude similar to two warring baseball batters, both men swinging their metal pipes-

 

*CHUNNK!!*

 

-only for their weapons to clash together and spring from their hands, leaving both men clutching jarred wrists!

 

“It’ll all end in tears!” Pete calls happily.

 

Landon is clawing at his eyes and swearing violently (thank God it’s not Lockdown), but TORU has enough time to shed his vinyl trenchcoat before grabbing the former World Champion and propelling him at high speed into the steel guardrail!

 

*CRASH!*

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

Grinning (and still wearing his shades, because he’s that damn cool) TORU grabs a disposable camera off a nearby fan, points it at Landon and-

 

*click*

 

-then gives it back to the suddenly overjoyed girl with this special memory of this night forever captured on celluloid. She points the device at TORU and prepares to take another shot, which leads to the big man giving her the bird… and at that moment Landon kicks up hard between his legs!

 

*CHING!*

 

That picture had an interesting facial expression, to say the least.

 

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

 

“LAN-DON SUCKS!”

 

Meanwhile, KOJI and Jay Hawke have got into a brawl now their respective weapons have rolled away. The Dean lets rip with a knife-edge chop to his opponent’s chest-

 

*CRACK!*

 

“WHOOOO!”

 

-but it jars his wrist, and although KOJI is clearly pained by the blow the Japanese superstar recovers in time to poke his opponent in the eye! Hawke staggers back and KOJI turns around just in time to see Landon Maddix darting towards him for a Maddix-Kick.

 

*whap*

 

Well, I did say just in time.

 

“He caught Maddix’s boot,” Longdogger Pete points out for those at home too retarded to work out what they’re seeing, “and I think the Cockroach could be in trouble!”

 

Sure enough, KOJI hurls Landon’s boot away and spins the former World Champion around… but Landon simply continues with his rotation and lands a spinning knife-edge chop on Kitano!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“WHOOO!”

 

KOJI staggers and Landon follows up with a forearm then knocks his opponent back into the guard rail, then spies TORU creeping up behind him and nails the big man with one as well! Now caught up in an attacking frenzy Landon spins between his two opponents, laying a shot in on KOJI… on TORU… on KOJI… on TORU…

 

“Erm,” King says with mild amusement, “Landon…?

 

Maddix whirls around to deliver yet another forearm blow to TORU Takahara… and only now registers the fact that the big man is barely budging under their impact; while KOJI Kitano is leaning heavily against the barrier for support, TORU is made of sterner stuff. Momentarily lost for ideas, Landon tries another… but TORU blocks it with both of his forearms, then starts raining bitchslaps down on his opponent!

 

*SMACK!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

*SMACK!*

 

The slap-drunk Maddix wobbles around in a circle, allowing TORU the time to back off briefly before charging in and vaulting off Landon’s knee to nail a Shining Enzuigiri!

 

*CRACK!*

 

TORU gets back to his feet and raises one arm in the air to celebrate, but at that moment Jay Hawke lands a clubbing forearm on his back. The big man staggers forwards and Hawke quickly grabs a chickenwing, perhaps looking for his finishing hold early on. TORU manages to keep clear of the crossface part though, and so Hawke gives up on that idea and, since they’re now near the ring, simply shoves the big man headfirst into the ringpost!

 

*CLUNK!*

 

TORU staggers away, and as he wobbles back round Hawke reveals a normally-unseen athletic side to his game by taking the heavyweight wrestler down with a leg lariat. Meanwhile it becomes clear that King and LDP have a guest at the commentary booth.

 

“What do you want?” Suicide King demands as Chris Card sits down and tugs on a pair of headphones.

 

“My sentiments exactly,” Pete seconds, glaring at Technical Perfection, “what bid’ness have you got here, Card?”

 

“Evening Brian, evening MacDougal,” Card greets them both coolly, “I just thought I’d give you my expert analysis.”

 

“Chris, if anything about you was expert then we wouldn’t have Landon Maddix as a former World Champion,” King snaps as La Cucaracha this time succeeds in nailing a Maddix-Kick on KOJI, then heads over to help his tag partner roll TORU into the ring. “Your job was simple; keep Maddix in the midcard!”

 

“Brian, it would have worked perfectly if it wasn’t for Megan Skye,” Card tells the former Commissioner, “Landon was totally taken in. Besides,” he adds casually, “Landon would have stayed in the midcard if you, Raynor and Flesher had actually been able to win at Genesis last year…”

 

“Ladies, please,” Longdogger Pete says as King and Card glare at each other, “we have a match going on!”

 

Sure enough, with TORU now in the ring (presumably where the old-school Hawke feels most comfortable) and KOJI collecting his marbles on the outside, Landon and Hawke have a chance to double-team their larger opponent. They grab TORU’s arms and Irish whip the big man into the ropes, then both jump into the air to hit a double dropkick on Takahara as he rebounds. Almost before the big man has hit the mat, Hawke has rolled him over onto his front and mounted his opponent’s back to apply a Camel Clutch, allowing Landon to bounce off the ropes at right angles and then come back with a running bootscrape!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

KOJI Kitano is trying to get into the ring, but Landon takes a moment to kick the smaller Japanese wrestler in the head and send him back to the floor before motioning to Hawke to get TORU up. The Dean obliges and Landon applies a reverse headlock to TORU, then hoists him up in an inverted suplex. He doesn’t get TORU’s legs very far off the ground, but he gets them far enough up for Hawke to grab on in each hand… and then Landon drops to one knee with an assisted The Bottom Drops Out!

 

“Well, Landon and Hawke seem to be targeting TORU’s back in the early part of this match,” LDP notes. “If this was a regular tag then I’d say they’d be working towards the Land of Nod, but as it is the finish will probably come from a flaming table or something equally violent…”

 

Landon makes a cover off that move, leading to official Brian Warner dropping to make the count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TW-

-but TORU kicks out, nowhere near ready to call it quits yet!

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

KOJI is getting back to his feet and Hawke has noticed this - the Dean exchanges a quick word with Landon and La Cucaracha quickly rummages in the pocket of his leather coat (stowed untidily at the foot of one ringpost) before pulling out a pair of handcuffs! The duo then tow TORU to the far side of the ring before cuffing the big man to the ropes to keep him from interfering!

 

“That’s… well, I was going to say that it’s despicable,” Pete stops himself, “but this is hardcore, so they can do what they damn well please.”

 

“It’s cowardly,” Card remarks, “because they know that they can’t match TKO in a two-on-two environment.”

 

“Whoah, Landon Maddox cowardly!?” King exclaims with enough sarcasm to refloat the Titanic, “next minute you’ll be telling me he cheats!”

 

With TORU tied up (hee-hee) KOJI Kitano is now allowed into the ring by Maddix and Hawke who instantly fall upon the long-haired Japanese wrestler with an unscientific but highly effective barrage of punches and kicks before he can even straighten up. Without any room to kick KOJI is at something of a disadvantage and he gets dragged up into a front facelock by Jay Hawke, who keeps the controlling hold on until Landon has reached the top rope whereupon the Dean hits his opponent with a swinging neckbreaker. The moment Hawke has cleared the area, Landon jumps off with a diving headbutt that connects with authority!

 

*WHAM!*

 

As Landon rolls away holding his head, Hawke moves back in… and applies a Fujiwara armbar. Maddix is less than impressed by this as he gets to his feet, clearly asking Hawke how they can doubleteam that. Hawke shrugs and invites Landon to Fujiwara the other arm, which Maddix just laughs at. With nothing better to do The Future half-heartedly kicks KOJI in the head a couple of times, then suddenly wheels around and sprints across the ring towards TORU…

 

*FFFFFFSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Sake mist!” Card and King shout together, before glaring at each other again.

 

“But where did he get the refill?” the practically minded LDP asks as Landon staggers away, clawing at his eyes. However, the answer appears at ringside in a PVC miniskirt that’s probably illegal in half-a-dozen States; Natasha, the Goth Bitch, whom Chris Card apparently handed the Sake bottle to earlier. She gets up on the ring apron to yell at Hawke, who releases the Fujiwara and darts towards her. The Dean swings a right hand, seeking to knock the interfering gothic slut clean off the apron… but Natasha drops out of range by doing the splits!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“HOLLA HOLLA!” King bellows, testosterone suddenly eliminating all higher functions, “TAKE A LOOK AT THAT ASS!”

 

Indeed, Natasha’s skirt has ridden up to provide a… diverting view for the cameraman who just happens to be stationed directly behind her, but although Jay Hawke’s primary concern also concerns his groin it is in a different manner entirely, as Natasha has reached through the ropes and applied the Testicular Claw!

 

“OOOOOOOooooooohhhhhhhhhhh…”

 

“Ouch,” Card comments, wincing, “she sharpened those nails this morning, you know…”

 

Landon has managed to more or less wipe the stinging Sake from his eyes and upon seeing his partner doing the Happy Tapdance Of Pain he rushes over to aim a kick at Natasha’s head. The Goth Bitch sees it coming and manages to drop off the apron out of the way, but she has to release her punishing hold to do so and Hawke’s groin is free once more to trouble the unhappy world. The Dean staggers backwards out of range of Natasha, but only turns around into a KOJI Kitano roundhouse!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Kitano is holding his right shoulder in pain from Hawke’s earlier Fujiwara, and Landon takes advantage of that by firing a kick of his own into KOJI’s right arm. The sudden flare-up knocks Kitano off his stride, and Landon takes control again with a lightning-fast Complete Shot that not only drives KOJI facefirst into the mat, but jars his shoulder even further! Landon seeks to take advantage by scooting over into a rear mount and reaching down with his left arm to secure a Dragon Sleeper while his other arm keeps KOJI’s hurt limb under control…

 

“Landon’s looking for the Land of Nod, and KOJI could be in trouble here!” Pete says without all that much concern…

 

…but KOJI manages to fight his antagonist off, twisting around underneath the Cockroach and raking his eyes! Landon stumbles backwards and Kitano struggles back to his feet, still feeling the effects of the Complete Shot but managing to boot the blinded Maddix in the gut before waving his (left) arm in a circle above his head and hooking his opponent for a vertical suplex.

 

“Gents, you’re about to see the Whirlwind Driver!” Chris Card exclaims excitedly…

 

…but he speaks too soon, as Jay Hawke has got up from the roundhouse kick and nails KOJI in the back with a forearm! Kitano releases his grip and Hawke scoops him up in a sidewalk slap position, stalls for a moment to allow Landon time to head for the ropes again, then drops Kitano over one knee with a pendulum backbreaker. Again, as soon as Hawke has got out of the ‘splash zone’ Maddix leaps off the top buckle, this time with a Frog Splash!

 

*BANG!*

 

Landon stays on top for the pin, causing Warner to drop to the deck again…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-

-but KOJI kicks out, although far closer to the three-count than Chris Card would have liked. Landon Maddix seems reasonably happy with how things are going though, and after another quick discussion with Hawke he slips out under the bottom rope and begins rummaging underneath the ring. While his erstwhile leader is otherwise engaged Jay Hawke rolls KOJI over onto his front and applies a surfboard, digging his heel into his opponent’s spine as he wrenches back on the arms. Meanwhile Maddix has found what he was seeking and pulls out… a table!

 

“Oh, here we go,” Card mutters, “Landon loves his damn tables…”

 

Maddix expertly sets up the table, then scoots back into the ring which seems to be the signal for Hawke to release the surfboard. They pull KOJI up to his feet, then both bury a foot into the Japanese wrestler’s gut and hook him as if for a vertical suplex whilst looking over the ropes at the table on the parking lot…

 

“A double front suplex over the ropes and through a table!?” Pete exclaims with almost prophet-like foresight, “you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

 

Unfortunately not, as Landon and Hawke grab a handful of tights each in preparation for the move. However, they are unaware of a sudden commotion behind them as Natasha has got involved in the match again. The Goth Bitch has quietly been fiddling with TORU’s handcuffs for the last 30 seconds with a hairpin, and now…

 

*click*

 

…the big man is free!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Where did she learn to do that with handcuffs?” King asks as the crowd erupts at the sight, causing Landon and Hawke to look around in confusion.

 

“Trust me; with Natasha, it’s best not to ask,” Card solemnly informs him.

 

TORU is anything but solemn however, and he charges across the ring towards his opponents! Landon reacts first and abandons KOJI to countercharge Takahara, but TORU just goes straight through him with a lariat and barely slows! Jay Hawke finds himself the recipient of a running knee smash to the gut-

 

“OOOFFFFF!”

 

-and gets driven back into and almost through the ropes by the force! TORU turns around to find Landon back up and charging him, but the big man simply scoops Maddix up, then drops him over one knee with a backbreaker. Maddix rolls away clutching his back, but a sneak attack from behind by a rather winded Hawke fails as TORU is aware once more of his opponent’s tactics, instead picking the International Champion up across his chest, checking back over his shoulder, then moonsaulting to bring Hawke down on top of Landon Maddix with the Blockbuster Slam!

 

*BANG!*

 

TORU stays on top for the pin and Warner drops to count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but both Landon and Hawke kick out!

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

Maddix got the worst of that deal as he had a total of nearly 500lbs land on top of him, so he is ignored for the moment as KOJI (slightly shakily) joins his tag team partner. TORU scoops Hawke up in a sidewalk slam position again, then KOJI grabs a reverse headlock and the duo drop to the mat with Hawke hitting hard! With a sadistic grin on his face, KOJI then turns Hawke over onto his front… and applies a surfboard!

 

“Payback is a bitch,” Card grins, before adding “and so is Natasha, for the record.”

 

KOJI Kitano’s surfboard differs from Jay Hawke’s though, because this is the Darkness Stomp, and it involves placing your foot on the back of your opponent’s raised head and driving it into the mat!

 

*BANG!*

 

“T!K!O!”

 

Not to mention, on this occasion it’s followed up by a TORU kneedrop to the back of the head!

 

“T!K!O!”

 

And then, to add insult to injury, both members of TKO lean down and give Hawke the double bird!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

However, as KOJI and TORU straighten up Landon Maddix slips into the ring behind them, steel chair clutched in hand! The Future swings for the back of TORU’s head, identifying the bigger, fresher man as the main threat-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-and TORU goes down! Landon spins around to face KOJI and raises his weapon again, but the long-haired wrestler is a match for him this time and ducks the blow, then as Landon wobbles around unbalanced by his own momentum KOJI superkicks the chair into his face!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Landon goes down like a felled tree, and KOJI dives on top for the pin…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHR-

-but Landon kicks out!

 

“Yup, it’s going to take more than that to squash The Cockroach,” Card says gloomily. “Trust me, I trained him.”

 

KOJI doesn’t seem to be all that worried about that though, as he pulls Landon back to his feet… and gives him the finger!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Even dazed and confused, Landon isn’t going to stand for that and he takes a swing at Kitano. This was just was KOJI was banking on however and he ducks before grabbing Maddix from behind and dragging La Cucaracha’s arm across his own throat, then pins it in place with his own and drops back to apply a bodyscissors!

 

“K-CLUTCH!” King yells in delight, taking audible pleasure in beating Card to naming one of his client’s moves, “that Half-Nelson Straightjacket Choke is KOJI’s preferred submission move and has been the last word in a lot of Japanese matches!”

 

Landon’s head is already ringing from the chair-assisted superkick, and he isn’t in the right condition to be deprived of oxygen (if indeed there is ever such a condition). Despite La Cucaracha’s struggles he seems to be fading fast and KOJI squeezes tighter, looking to secure his team’s first major tag scalp in the SWF…

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

…but Jay Hawke is back to his feet, and the Dean of Professional Wrestling wades in with a boot to KOJI’s head to break it up! Hawke then ignores his technical wrestling background as he resorts to the simple method of reaching down and choking KOJI while Landon catches his breath, but Kitano’s legs can reach a surprising amount of places and the Japanese wrestler lashes upwards to catch Hawke in the side of the head! Hawke staggers away and KOJI scrambles back to his feet, but Landon grabs him from behind and hits him with the Mount Crushmore!

 

“Right, that’s it,” Card says, taking his headset off, “I’d better get over there. Guys, it’s been… unpleasant.”

 

“Good riddance!” King shouts after the receding Englishman.

 

Meanwhile, TORU has managed to get back up following Landon’s chairshot and he takes Hawke out with a gamengiri, then turns towards Maddix-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-who nails him with a Shining Wizard OUT OF NOWHERE!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Landon sprawls into the cover as Warner makes the count…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOBROKENUPBYKOJI!!!

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

KOJI boots Landon in the head to knock him off his tag partner, but the aching Japanese Cruiserweight is then grabbed from behind by a dizzy but still fighting Jay Hawke, who looks for the Wingspan! However, try as he might Hawke can’t get it locked in and KOJI fires off one, two, three back elbows before performing a standing switch and reaching forward to lock the K-Clutch in on his opponent! With oxygen suddenly hard to come by Hawke sees Landon getting up again and swings all his bodyweight sideways, affording Maddox a clear shot at KOJI’s back!

 

“It’s all coming apart here,” Pete shouts as Maddix drives his forearm into the back of Kitano’s neck, “and this is still anyone’s match!”

 

Hawke staggers forward wheezing, but Landon spins KOJI around and bends him forwards over one knee for the Crash Landon ‘05... but suddenly TORU is there on the other side, holding KOJI in place and preventing Landon from whipping backwards, then bringing his foot up and around to crack into Maddix’s jaw!

 

*CRUNCH!*

 

Landon topples backwards and TORU stabilises his partner before they both grab Jay Hawke, set him up between them and lash out with stereo roundhouse kicks-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-but Hawke drops to his knees, and the just succeed in kicking each other’s legs! As both men hop on the spot in brief agony Hawke takes advantage of his positioning by slamming his right forearm up into TORU’s happy-happy-joy-joy area…

 

*CHING!*

 

…then grabs Landon and hauls him upright. Maddix and Hawke take hold of KOJI Kitano, each slams a forearm into the side of the Japanese wrestler’s head, then they run towards the ropes and hurl their opponent over the top towards the table that’s been set up on the outside…

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

…but KOJI holds on to the top rope! Hawke suddenly finds two large hands grabbing his leg and anchoring him in place as TORU fights through the pain in his genetalia, and the moment it takes Landon to turn and see what’s up distracts him enough for KOJI to skin the cat and wrap both legs around La Cucaracha’s head before pulling hard and using the headscissors to take Landon over the top rope AND THROUGH THE TABLE!

 

*KERRR-AASSSSSHHHHH!!*

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“That’s beautiful!” King yells, “just beautiful! Gimme a replay!”

 

Sadly no replay is forthcoming for the Gambling Man, but as Hawke tries to detach TORU from his leg (by means of forearms and elbows to the back, which evidently hurt but do not remove the limpet-like Japanese wrestler) KOJI drops to the floor and hurries over to cover Maddix. Brian Warner quickly slips out of the ring to follow him…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“HE KICKED OUT!” Pete bellows in disbelief as the entire parking lot starts booing like there’s no tomorrow. “How!? How in the blue hell did Landon Maddix kick out of that?”

 

KOJI can’t believe it, but the arrival of Chris Card on the scene seems to shake the long-haired wrestler out of it. Technical Perfection quickly starts directing traffic, and Kitano begins hunting under the ring before pulling out… another table.

 

“That’s right,” King encourages the TKO member, “beat him at his own game!”

 

Card and KOJI hurriedly set up the table, then KOJI disappears into the ring while Card hauls Landon out of the wreckage of the previous impact. The Englishman looks his former charge up and down in disgust for a second… then spits in his semi-conscious face before-

 

*WHAM!*

 

“Calling Card!” Pete shouts as Card slams his boot into Landon’s chest, knocking La Cucaracha backwards onto the set-up table. “I can’t believe it - Card just risked creasing his suit!”

 

“Oh yeah, he hates Landon alright,” King confirms as Card hastily dusts himself off, then places on hand over Landon’s throat to prevent him escaping. Meanwhile in the ring TORU has managed to wrap both arm around Hawke’s legs now, and the big man lifts his opponent off the ground. Hawke remains precariously balanced for a moment before KOJI leaps into the air and nearly takes his head off with a spinning roundhouse!

 

*CRACK!*

 

With Hawke out of the way TORU looks out at Landon, then towards the turnbuckles… and the crowd responds!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

The big man starts to climb; the first buckle… the second buckle… the third buckle…

 

“I AM TORU!!”

 

Then TORU Takahara leaps into the September air, backflipping as he goes… and lands directly atop Landon Maddix.

 

KERRR-UNNNCCCHHHH!!*

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“SHOOTING STAR PRESS OFF THE TOP, TO THE OUTSIDE, THROUGH A TABLE!” Pete screams at the top of his lungs, “Landon Maddix could be dead!”

 

The cover, in the wreckage of the table, is already there.

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the match,” Funyon booms, “TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano… TEEEEEEE! KAAAAAYYYY!! OOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

[chirs3 0]

We return to tonight's Storm with a shot of the Conseco Fieldhouse, as the darkened Indiana sky is lit up by the stars, and of course the bigass spotlights set up by the SWF crew.

 

"Welcome back to the Conseco Fieldhouse, the home of the Indiana Pacers, and tonight, we come to you live from...the parking lot!" announces Longdogger Pete with a shrug.

 

"Either the staff at Conseco got wind of our knack for racking up large damage bills, or they don't think we're worthy enough to grace the same arena as Reggie Miller did for so long, but either way, this location has definitely served its purpose tonight!" follows Suicide King, making the best of the situation.

 

"And it's about to come in handy for two men who are set to meet in a hardcore contest. We know the story between Todd Cortez and Landon Maddix, as we've seen quite the soap opera unfold between the two men and Megan Skye over the last several months. Now it seems that Maddix has found new allies in Jay Hawke and JJ Johnson, and since Maddix has put Cortez on "his" time table, tonight Johnson plays mercenary and comes after Todd Cortez in a hardcore match!"

 

"Well you know, Todd is at his best when his back is against the wall. Maddix is taking this feud and putting a twist on it by hooking up with Hawke and Johnson. He knows Cortez isn't about to put his faith in anyone else right now, not after the way Landon turned his back on he and Megan. Like him or not, Maddix seems to have the mental edge in this feud right now."

 

As the cameras close in on the ringside area, a commotion starts up in the crowd, and many fans get up and begin rushing away from the ring, to a spot elsewhere in the parking lot.

 

"I know wrestling's not quite as popular as it once was, but geez, people!"

 

"No, King, look!"

 

Pete points out that the commotion isn't a mass exodus of fans, but rather that their attention has been captured by a brawl in the parking lot between JJ Johnson and Todd Cortez!

 

"They couldn't wait to get to the ring!"

 

"Where's the referee at, anyways?"

 

Our camera crew races to the fight, making viewers at home dizzy with shaky camerawork as they try to squeeze through the crowd of fans. They finally reach the scene, and Cortez and Johnson are each holding the other by the head and swinging right hands wildly, brawling like two men in a bar fight! The crowd eggs them on, with the fans solidly behind Cortez, as the brawl continues and the two men ram each other up against parked cars, trying to break free from the grip of the other!

 

"Look at them go at it! Johnson wants to take Cortez out as a goodwill gesture to his new ally, while Cortez is looking to send a message to Maddix and destroy this new alliance before they get off the ground!"

 

Johnson tries pushing Cortez away, but when he can't, he brings his knee up, striking Cortez in the stomach. Another kneelift follows, and Johnson applies a front facelock, squeezing Cortez's head and trying to hold him steady...but Cortez powers forward, ramming JJ's back into the side of a car! Johnson releases his grip as he reels from the blow, and this allows Cortez to take him by the head and smash his face into the hood of the car! The crowd cheers as Cortez rolls Johnson onto the hood of the car and then climbs up on it himself. He then pulls JJ to his feet and hooks a facelock, then takes JJ by the waistband of his tights and lifts him into the air, falling back with a suplex on the roof of the car!

 

"Hey Pete, wanna start a pool on how much the damage bill is going to be after tonight?"

 

"Are you kidding? At the rate we're going, they're gonna start pulling it out of our checks. I can't risk losing anymore money!"

 

Johnson is sprawled out on the roof of the car, and Cortez steps up onto it and pulls him up...but catches a low blow for his troubles! As Cortez drops down to his knees, we finally have a referee on the scene, as Nick Soapdish has made his way through the crowd and over to the melee. He waves his hands for the bell, but poor Funyon can't see him, so we'll just say the bell was rung for the sake of having this match be "official". Johnson starts to rise up, while Cortez shakes off the effects of the low blow, only to have JJ scoop him up and slam him down on the car roof! Johnson then hops onto Cortez, pinning his shoulders down with his knees and clubbing at him with both hands, looking to pound Todd into submission! Cortez tucks his head in his arms, covering up and allowing his forearms to absorb most of the impact, then finally shoves Johnson off of him. Cortez rolls backwards, down the back of the car and lands with his feet on the concrete. Johnson, now also on the ground, comes around the side of the car and ties up with Cortez again, and the two struggle for an advantage, stumbling around until Johnson manages to grab a side headlock, again putting pressure on by squeezing Cortez's head...but Todd shoves him into the back of a minivan! Johnson's head collides with a back window, and when he staggers back Cortez grabs his waist, but as he's lifted Johnson kicks off the van, using the momentum to go over Todd's shoulder! Cortez turns around, but Johnson dives for the legs, picking Todd up off the ground and ultimately slamming him down on the hood of another car, leaving an Urban Legend sized dent in it! Johnson then tries to pull Cortez up off the hood, but Cortez plants both feet in his chest and kicks him back, using the force to push himself backwards and roll off the hood. Cortez then snatches a folding chair from a nearby tailgater and wraps his palms around the legs of it, keeping his back to Johnson so that when JJ approaches...

 

CRACK!

 

...he's beaned across the skull with a wicked chairshot!

 

"Good God, Cortez may have just split his skull in two!"

 

Todd drops the chair and storms over to the wounded Johnson, taking him by the back of the head and ramming his face into the hood of yet another car. Blood oozes from the hairline of JJ Johnson, and stains the automobile, but Cortez merely rubs JJ's face in the plasma, getting it all over the hood of the car. Todd then delivers a knee to the small of the back, then lifts JJ off his feet, carrying him through the parking lot and then ramming him, crotch first, into a lightpost! Cortez then puts JJ back on his feet, but swings him around so that they're face to face, and delivers an inverted atomic drop, doing further damage to JJ Junior! Johnson falls to the ground, and the tailgaters and other fans scatter away, clearing a space for the two to continue battling. Cortez stands over his foe and then delivers a quick soccer kick to the ribs, knocking the wind out of Johnson, then grabs both legs and holds them by the ankles, spreading them open in order to drive his boot down into JJ's nether region!

 

"Yeee-ouch!" shouts Suicide King. "Come for the wrestling, stay for the vasectomy!"

 

Bloodied with balls aching, Johnson rolls around on the pavement, as Cortez stands over him triumphantly. Not wanting to show too much mercy, Cortez moves to drag Johnson to his feet, but Johnson uses a thumb to the eye, blinding Cortez and stopping him dead in his tracks! Todd backs away blinded, and Johnson drags himself to his feet, using the bystanders to involuntarily help him to his feet. Johnson then gets himself together and swipes a can of beer from one of the bystanders. Johnson approaches Cortez, who still has his head tilted to the side, trying to get the vision back in his eye. Johnson grabs Cortez by the arm and spins him around, and then takes the beer and throws it into Todd's face, sending alcohol into the eyes of the Urban Legend!

 

"That's not just a tactic to buy time...Todd Cortez is straight edge! Having beer thrown in his face is spitting on everything he believes in!"

 

"Which is why I'm sure that has Landon Maddix smiling right now. Johnson's aiming to please his new buddy tonight."

 

Todd spits and gags, the mere smell of beer on his person enough to make him sick. Johnson stalks him, smiling through his crimson mask as he takes Cortez by the wrist and pulls him towards him, then whips him into a crowd of tailgaters, knocking their grill and chairs astray! Cortez lays wounded amidst the wreckage, and Johnson comes over and mounts himself on Todd’s shoulders, wrapping his left hand around Todd’s throat while grinding his right elbow into the bridge of Todd’s nose! Cortez yells in pain as the point of the elbow is driven into his temple, and he begins moving his hands around, searching for something, anything to help him. Finally, he clenches his fist together, and before you know it Johnson is groaning and favoring his eyes, as Cortez took a handful of charcoal ashes from the toppled grill and threw them into the eyes of JJ Johnson!

 

“To say that these guys believe in the “eye for an eye” philosophy would be an understatement!” remarks Pete in a clever moment.

 

Johnson gets up, blinded, but continues swinging wildly, nearly clipping a fan or two in the process! Cortez slowly comes up, resting on one knee, and then charges forward, tackling JJ and running him backwards into the back of a truck! JJ slouches down, and Cortez simply takes him by the head and rams it into the back of the truck repeatedly and without remorse! Cortez allows JJ to slump down into a seated position, rested against the back of the truck, and then starts pummeling him with repeated kicks to the body, knocking JJ down to the ground! Cortez then follows THAT up by stomping Johnson repeatedly, and the fans and referee Soapdish look on in awe as Cortez is showing a vicious streak previously unseen in the SWF!

 

“The stress is getting to Todd Cortez, and man is it ever showing!”

 

Cortez backs away from his fallen opponent, who is curling up in a fetal position and coughing heavily. Cortez then looks around and spies a cooler in the pile of objects that were sent flying when he crashing into them, and opens the cooler to find a supply of beer cans. Cortez takes one of the cans out and throws it up in the air, catching it in his hand, then turns and glares at Johnson…

 

…AND PELTS HIM WITH THE FULL CAN OF BEER!

 

“That’s alcohol abuse!”

 

Cortez takes another can, and once again, throws it at Johnson with as much velocity as he can muster, striking the mixed martial artist in the shoulder! With Johnson hurting on the ground, Cortez picks up the cooler and presses it over his head while walking towards his opponent, who is trying to crawl away…and slams it down on him, sending beer cans falling out and rolling across the concrete!

 

“Pete, serious question. Would that fans beer bill be included in our coverage of damages?”

 

“I…I don’t know. It’s the first I’ve ever seen anything like that done. There’s no precedent.”

 

Cortez is a man on fire, standing over the broken body of Johnson and kicking him every time Johnson seems to be able to rise to his feet. Finally, Cortez pulls Johnson up to his feet, but Johnson reacts quickly, grasping Todd’s wrist and Irish whipping him away…into a fan who is getting out of their car…

 

…AND TODD COLLIDES WITH THE FAN, THE MOMENTUM SENDING THEM BOTH CRASHING INTO THE DOOR AND TAKING IT RIGHT OFF IT’S HINGES~!

 

“I am SO GLAD I don’t crunch numbers for this company.”

 

The fans are startled, and Johnson collapses, barely able to catch himself as he falls. Cortez and the poor fan are laid out, the door to the car having now become their makeshift mattress after the collision. Johnson pushes up to his feet, looking like he’s been through the ringer, and approaches a fan. The man, your typical early 20’s college kid, looks stunned at the sight of the bloody Johnson coming up to him, but Johnson says nothing, and simply takes the bottle of beer out of the man’s hand, then smashes it against the side of a vehicle! Using the bottleneck as a handle, Johnson exposes the sharp point of glass he made and walks over to Cortez, shoving the poor fan down before taking Todd by the head and digging the point of the glass into his forehead!

 

“Oooh, man, this match is getting too much for my stomach to handle.”

 

Cortez yells out a cry of pain as the sharp, jagged edge opens a cut on his forehead and sends blood trickling down his nose and cheek. He clutches Johnson’s wrist and uses all his energy to pry JJ’s hand away and stop the assault. As Johnson fights it, trying to jab the shrapnel into Todd’s eye, Cortez lunges upward with a knee to the gut, and a second one, doubling Johnson over! Cortez then runs him backwards into the side of a car, smashing his hand up against it and causing him to lose the makeshift weapon that drew blood from his forehead. After disposing of the weapon, a furious Cortez then takes Johnson by the head and pounds on the cut that he caused earlier, trying to open it and cause more blood to spill, until he stops pounding on it and simply takes Johnson by the head and THROWS HIM HEADFIRST THROUGH A CAR WINDOW~!

 

“Oh My God!”

 

“Pete, I think there’s another announcer who can claim that trademark. Maybe “Holy Toledo” would work?”

 

“King! Be serious! That man’s head just got put through a window!”

 

The crowd roars, and a large “Cortez” chant comes up from the crowd around Todd and JJ, and spreads throughout the parking lot, as fans who expected this to be an in ring encounter are viewing it on the SmarkTron that has been set up. Johnson is motionless, his body half in the car, half slouched outside of it, while Cortez simply brings him out of the car, showing off the even bloodier JJ Johnson before taking him and hurling him headfirst through THE BACK WINDOW OF THE CAR~!~!

 

“This isn’t a match! It’s like a legalized execution!”

 

The rabid, bloodthirsty crowd lets out a collective roar of approval, as JJ Johnson is in a bad, bad situation.

“These two men couldn’t wait to lock up tonight, and that overzealousness has spilled over into their strategy!”

 

“Landon Maddix cannot like this, because he knows that while JJ Johnson is the opponent of Todd Cortez tonight, in Todd’s mind, this is what is going to happen to Landon. In psychology they call it transference, and it’s probably scaring Maddix to death!”

 

“There has not been one pinfall attempt, nor has there been any attempt to get to the ring. These two are using the hardcore rules to the fullest extent, each one using his opponent to send a message of sorts.”

 

Once again, Cortez pulls Johnson’s limp body out of the car. The upper body of the Canadian superstar is now drenched in blood, dripping from his head on down. Todd then throws him onto the trunk of the same car, then hops up on the car himself, perching himself on the roof and dragging Johnson up with him…but out of NOWHERE, Johnson hooks one of Todd’s legs and tosses him over with a quick fireman’s carry before collapsing on the roof of the car! Cortez bounces off the trunk and slides off, but shakes it off quickly and climbs back on the car, clotheslining Johnson in the back of the head as he slowly pushes up! Cortez stands on the roof of the car, looking down at his opponent, then drops to his knees and grabs the back of JJ’s neck, then starts pounding his head into the roof repeatedly!

 

“Folks, if you’re just tuning in, believe me, you might want to avert your eyes, because this is not for the squeamish.”

 

“The cameras close in on Cortez, still bashing Johnson’s head into the roof before finally letting go, then getting to his feet and looking down at his foe, who is barely conscious. A look of sorrow, pity, and regret comes over Todd’s face, as his eyes beam as if he can’t believe what he’s just done. He looks up and looks out to the crowd, who continue to cheer him, and takes a deep breath before reaching down and pulling JJ Johnson up to his feet…but then locks him in a standing headscissors!

 

“Oh no, he’s not! I mean, he can’t!”

 

“Oh he can, and I think he will, Peter!”

 

The crowd goes electric, knowing what Todd has planned. He holds Johnson in position, because JJ is nothing but dead weight at this point, and springs off the roof of the car, carrying himself over JJ’s back as he hoists him into the air…

 

…AND SPIKES HIS HEAD ON THE WINDSHEILD WITH THE RIOT ACT PLUS~!

 

Most of the crowd roars. Many are stunned. Nick Soapdish leaps back in shock, and the announcers are dead silent. A spiderweb of crackling glass forms on the windshield, while the body of JJ Johnson rolls off the car and lands with a sick thud on the pavement. Todd Cortez sits up on the hood of the car, ripping off his wifebeater and uses it to wipe the blood from his forehead and out of his eyes, then throws it aside before hopping down to the ground and covering JJ Johnson.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

As soon as he makes the count, Nick Soapdish hops up on a car and waves his hands for the bell to ring, and Funyon spies the visual on the Smarktron and rings the bell for the official.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, the Urban Legend, TODDDDDDDDDD CORRRRRRRRRRTEZZZZZZZZZZZ!”

 

Across the parking lot, the speakers blare with the sounds of “Oh No”, and the shocked crowd who filed into the parking lot of the Conseco Fieldhouse watch on as Soapdish raises the hand of the Urban Legend. Cortez spies the camera man who has filmed the carnage tonight and approaches him, and the camera man steps back, unsure of what Todd wants. Cortez reaches out and grabs the camera, holding it still as he peers into it.

 

“Maddix. MADDIX. You ready for me yet, Landon? Are you ready to face the consequences? YOU did this, Landon. Tonight…this was all you. I’m ready, Landon. I’m ready whenever you are.”

 

Cortez then shoves the camera man away and turns, heading through the parking lot and back to the makeshift locker room, while Storm quickly cuts to commercial, with the announcers still speechless at the scene that just unfolded here tonight.

[chirs3 0]

King and Pete are ringside… truck side, car side – whatever it is called when the announce table is set up next to a wrestling ring in a parking lot.

 

“You know King” Pete begins “SWF have fun a lot of outdoor events and we’re usually pretty lucky to have nice weather”

 

*KRA-KRA-KRAKOOOOOOOOOMM!!*

 

Thunder is heard in the distance and just seconds after Pete is done talking the rain begins to pour, not just a light rain or a drizzle but an EVIL, VICIOUS, NASTY, CLOTHES SOAKING, DROWNING A SLEEPING GUY, MAKING YOU WISH YOU WERE IN MEXICO RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIINNNNNNO!!!

 

“You had to go open your big mouth didn’t you” King says, pointing out the fact that Longdogger Pete is a humongous jinx. “I’m sorry King” Pete says and turns towards his commentating partner. While Pete is getting soaked King is nice and dry under an umbrella. Before Pete can ask him how the heck he got an umbrella that fast he’s cut off by the foreboding beats of “Between the Wheels”

 

“I AM IN CONTROL!!”

 

Unfortunately the soaking rain has already shorted out the PA system so Funyon has to return to the locker room without being able to tell everyone that Marcus Ward is 6 foot 1, weighs 249 pounds and other “fascinating” information that always makes the matches so much more enjoyable.

 

“I just hope gold doesn’t rust” Pete says as he’s getting soaked by the pouring rain “Cause the Hardcore champion is in for a wet one tonight”

 

Marcus Ward steps out from the makeshift “backstage” area, no Trons, no pyros, no music just the (now getting closer) thunder claps and the sound of the pouring rain.

 

“You know I gotta admire a guy that’s thinking outside the box” King says as he sees Marcus Ward walk out wearing a green rain coat with the hood up and green waterproof pants. “Man I wish I was dry” is all Pete can say.

 

The Mastermind taps his head as he walks out, he’s one of the few guys in the entire state that’s not getting totally soaked right now, and as such he’s entitled to some bragging rights. He holds up the Hardcore title to show it off to the camera and the dwindling crowd.

 

“Here Pete, take my umbrella” King says as he holds out the umbrella to his partner. “You… you serious??” Pete cannot believe it but King is serious. “Wow King I guess deep down you are a decent human being afte---“

 

*KRA-KRA-KRAKOOOOOOOOOMM!!*

 

*ZZZZZZ-ZZZ-ZZZAPPP!!*

 

Lightning strikes right in the middle of the parking lot, in fact it hits the umbrella now in Longdogger Pete’s hand. There is a huge shower of sparks as Pete flies backwards from the lightning strike

 

“Man Pete is ELECTRIC tonight” King says and smirks, everyone at home now knows exactly why King gave away his umbrella. “Well I guess I’m flying solo for this one, Pete is extra crispy”

 

Marcus Ward is in the ring, pacing back and forth in the rain as he waits for Bruce to show up. But at first nothing happens. Ward jumps up on the second turnbuckle and starts to talk to the camera about how Bruce Blank is scared of him

 

“I knew that clod hopper was afraid to take my “Master class”, he knows I would have schooled him” But his tirade is cut off by a horn honking

 

BEEEP!! BEEEP!! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!

 

“Is Road Runner here??” is all a confused King can say before the camera catches the headlights of a beat up rusty Ford pick up truck coming racing towards the ring. From the distance everyone can hear the car stereo being cranked up to 11

 

“So, don’t ask me no questions

And I won’t tell you no lies

So, don’t ask me about…

 

“Bruce is here, a little late but he’s pulling into the *ahem* arena” King says as Bruce’s truck screeches to a halt and Bruce steps out of the truck, immediately soaked through. Marcus Ward looks a little disappointed, it would have been so much easier if Bruce hadn’t shown up at all.

 

“Hey Pete you’re back? How are you?” Longdogger Pete sits down next to King, he looks a little frazzled and shaken. “I’m alright you co-co-cock sucker! Sucker!! Sucker!!” Pete twitches as he lets lose a stream of obscenities that surprises King.

 

Bruce enters the ring and looks at the smaller Hardcore champion, Marcus plays it cool and waits for Bruce to make the first move. Bruce raises a hand in the air with a shit eating grin and asks for a test of strength, Marcus can’t do anything but laugh at the attempt

 

“You kno, kno, know the ASS!! ASS!! SHIT!! Lass ASS ASS Last time Mastermind faced a gut bigger than him he lost to Devon WANKER!! WINO!! Walters” King just looks at Pete side ways, wondering how the hell an electrocution can lead to stuttering and a bout of Tourettes – but then he remembers that there is actually a precedent for these things.

 

Marcus raises his hands in the air, apparently he’s stupid enough to try a test of strength with the massive Bruce. As he gets close enough to the redneck he shows everyone that he never had any intention of doing that and instead pokes Bruce in the eyes and then knocks him back with a couple of well placed elbow strikes. Bruce shakes off the elbow strikes and launches back at his opponent with a rock hard clothesline

 

“Holy ass! Ka-ka, poo-poo!!” Pete screams in his microphone as they both watch the impact of the clothesline knock Marcus down with enough force to flip him over onto his stomach. Bruce runs towards Marcus but when he goes for an elbow drop he’s the victim of the very went canvas as he slips and lands ass over elbow.

 

“How often do you hear the entire crowd laugh” King asks not expecting an answer. “Every 2 point 4 years” Pete shoots back at him pulling a number from his ass.

 

Both men get back to their feet, Bruce pushes his soaking wet hair out of his face as Marcus just grins and points to his raincoat. Marcus and Bruce go for an old fashioned collar and elbow tie up in the middle of the ring but just moments before they lock arms Bruce’s right fist shoots out and clocks Marcus across the jaw. Then the Mastermind finds himself being thrown to the ground as Bruce tears at his raincoat

 

“YEAH MAKE HIM WET LIKE THE PUSSY” King says… “that he is?” Pete adds, hoping that’s what the Suicide King meant by that comment.

 

Bruce grabs the raincoat by the hood and starts to pull and tear on it, choking out Marcus Ward as it’s tied around his neck. The referee just stands there, shrugging his shoulders cause he’s just there to count to three everything else is perfectly legal. Then Bruce reaches down and tears the back of the raincoat in half and starts to yank strips off it.

 

Bruce grabs Marcus by the hand and goes for an Irish whip to the corner, but his slick boots and the water on the canvas makes him lose his footing and instead Ward ends up whipping Bruce chest first into the turnbuckle. Bruce just barely manages to stagger out of the corner when

 

*KRA-KRA-KRAKOOOOOOOOOMM!!*

 

”HOLY CRAP!! That bolt of lightning struck the ring post right where Bruce was” King yells in equal parts surprise and excitement. “Oh shut your hole, asshole, va, va, vagina breath!!” is all Pete can say, leaving King without a comeback cause really what can you say after that?

 

Bruce’s hair is all puffed up and there are faint hints of smoke coming from it as he almost got hit by the lightning. Marcus taps his head, playing it off as if he planned the whole thing. Then he grabs Bruce from behind, plants his powerful legs wide apart and takes Bruce down with a Belly to Back suplex that really rocks the ring.

 

“A shitting, fucking cover by Ward!!” Pete spits out as Ward bridges the belly to back into a pin. But there is no count as the referee is busy trying to put out the fire that the lighting bolt started. Marcus Ward looks towards the corner and sees the entire thing on fire, turnbuckles ablaze and the plastic on the ropes starting to catch fire as well.

 

“It’s gonna turn into a flaming ropes match! This is truly hardcore!!” King says, excited about the match and the fact that he’s just watching it and not actually in it.

 

Marcus Ward does not really want to be lit on fire and simply stops, drops and rolls… out of the ring to the floor. Then he grabs Bruce by the leg and drags him over to the ringpost opposite of the flaming one and then slams Bruce’s left leg against it.

 

“Hey ref!! Quit playing with fire and keep an eye on the match” Pete says in a moment of clarity, then he adds “Shit fucker!”

 

 

Marcus swiftly drags Bruce Blank feet first out of the ring entirely and lets him flop on the asphalt parking lot with a sickening thud-splash duet that Ward capitalizes on with a cover in the puddle.

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

And Bruce manages to recover from the minor head trauma rather miraculously as he not only kicks out but THROWS Ward over to the side as he rises up...to meet Ward's forearm right in his throat, catching him under the chin and driving into his lung. Ward uses the moment to move around to Blank's back and lock in a sleeper hold on the much larger guy, easily bringing Bruce to his knees with the modified chokehold.

 

 

"*BEEP*er HONKY CHOAD Sleeper ASSHOLE HOLE Hold toppling the VAGINA giant Bitch bitch br... bitch blan..." Longdogger Pete struggles to regain control of his dialogue, but only results it forcing the production crew to just turn off his mike, leaving Suicide King the sole source of commentary for the remainder of this match...

 

 

"Well folks, Ward's got Bruce Blank in a sleeper hold, and it looks like this one will end with Blank drowning in a puddle!" comments King, unaware of his insensitivity

 

 

Ward continues to apply the sleeper hold pressure, bringing Blank down on his stomach on the parking lot, pushing his face into a puddle that has formed in one of the deeper potholes, and beginning to drown the defenseless man. The referee begins to argue with Ward, but has no authoritative leg to stand on as this is a Hardcore match.

 

King chuckles, "Looks like victory via restful homicide for Ward, though I could imagine this will get cut from the final tape for legal purposes...wait what is that thing coming up on Ward extremely fast, security get the fans out of this match!"

 

 

Suddenly a green flash comes splashing through the parking lot and latches onto Ward, resulting in a piercing scream of agony to come from the man...as he's bit by what appears to be an alligator? Ward struggles to release the vise-like jaws of the gator as his opponent Bruce begins to recover from his near-drowning and manages to spy the situation as he starts to get up. Spying his faithful pet Fang, Bruce takes advantage of the situation and moves in on Ward, whistling right as he picks him up, to indicate to Fang that he should let go.

 

 

King marvels, "Fang the Alligator has swam the Mississippi and who knows what other major tributaries to make it here to swampy Indiana and rescue Bruce Blank...what a heartwarming story folks"

 

Bruce has Marcus Ward pressed over his head Gorilla Press style, holding on tight to Ward’s torn raincoat and pants. He walks two steps towards a long black stretch limo parked in the parking lot when his attempt at mayhemosity is interrupted by a guy screaming at them.

 

“STOOOOOP!!” Tom Flesher comes running out from somewhere dry and tries to stop Bruce from dropping Ward on the hood of the car. “That’s my car Bruce, go drop him on someone else’s car instead” he says with all the authority of a commissioner… from a different show

 

Bruce looks at him, contemplates it, “This is your car?” Tom nods and smiles, he knows Bruce is no fool.

 

But Bruce IS a fool apparently as he just grins before dropping Ward shoulder and back first onto the hood of the limo denting it and popping one of the front tires. Bruce then kicks one of the side mirrors off and throws it away, just because he can

 

“Our beloved Commissioner won’t like this, he won’t like this one little bit” a rain soaked King says. Pete is about to say something but his microphone has been cut off because of excessive swearing.

 

Tom Flesher is livid as Bruce climbs up on the hood of the car, picks up Ward and then slams his opponent down on top of the car, bursting several windows from the impact

 

“Woops! sorry” Is all Bruce can say before trying to crawl up onto the roof of the limo as well, but it’s so wet that he slips and puts his leg through the shattered front windscreen. In the background we can see Tom being removed by security as his face has turned red and he’s screaming stuff only Longdogger Pete would say.

 

“Bruce just made a very crucial mistake here” King points out, trying to be both the voice of reason and the voice of dissension at the same time. “Ward is too good an opponent to make mistakes like that”

 

Marcus is on his hands and knees as Bruce is still trying to get lose from the busted window’s jagged edges without cutting his leg into a million pieces. He uses the fact that the top of the roof is very slick from the rain to spin his whole body around and kick Bruce upside the head in a move he could have never pulled off in the ring. Then he lands a double knee to Bruce’s back knocking the big man clear off the limo down to the concrete.

 

“What the Fu--" once again Pete’s microphone is cut off.

 

Marcus isn’t an idiot, he’s not going to come leaping off the top of the car onto the concrete. Instead he slides off, grabs Bruce by the back of the head and then throws him face first into the side of the door, denting the door and busting Bruce wide open. Of course the rain quickly begins to wash the blood off but Bruce is clearly bleeding from the nose and eyebrow.

 

“Now you’ll learn the true meaning of “Master Class” you redneck!!” Marcus screams as he kicks away on Bruce’s back. Ward picks up his large opponent, bounces Bruce’s head off the car and then lifts the staggered Bruce up in the air and brings him down hard on the concrete

 

*THUD!!*

 

“SPINEBUSTER!! RIGHT ON THE ASPHALT!!” Pete jumps out of his seat in excitement and starts to curse at everyone at ringside. King, while tempted to do the same tries to keep an eye on the match as Marcus Ward goes for a cover.

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

THR-NO!!! Bruce manages to lift a shoulder up. Marcus ties up the arm, then hooks the leg back hard and lays with all his weight on top of Bruce for another cover

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

TWO AND NINE TENTHS!!!

 

Bruce somehow manages to shift his weight enough to prevent the pinfall. Marcus is on his knees, shaking his head in frustration over not being able to put the big man away.

 

“Stay down god damn you!!” he yells in frustrations. Marcus looks towards the ring, then at the parking lot and smiles as he taps his head. He drags Bruce to his feet, and by grabbing him by the hair and the shirt Marcus drags him from the limo to the ring and throws Bruce shoulder and neck first into the ring post. He pulls Bruce into an upright position against the ring post and then quickly runs off.

 

Longdogger Pete chimes in again, apparently having his microphone turned on by the producers, “Where is the Bastard, Bastard, Bastard!! Ward going??” he immediately says. “Disneyland?? How the hell should I know”

 

Moments later it’s revealed where Marcus went as he comes back driving a GEO straight at Bruce who’s still propped up against the ring post. Watch it speed down the aisle at a breakneck … 10 miles an hour, hear it’s engine roar

 

*PURRRRR*

 

“He’s not going to… “ King couldn’t finish the sentence, were they about to witness the first actual vehicular manslaughter in SWF history??

 

Fortunately for SWF, their insurance company and every TV station that’s broadcasting Storm live there is no bloodshed as Bruce manages to leap out of the way at the last moment

 

*SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-BOOM!!!*

 

The car crashes into the ring post the impact knocks the ring 3 feet to one side before it collapses after the damage done first by lighting then by a car. Bruce is on his knees, trying to catch is breath, watching the carnage.

 

“Man I hope they can get that ring replaced for the next match or we’re forced to dig out a trampoline” King says with barely hidden disgust over THAT thought.

 

Bruce tears the door open, pulls the now deflated airbag out of the way and proceeds to slam Marcus’ head against the steering wheel as the brave fans that are still out in the rain counts along

 

DON’T

 

*BEEP*

 

“ONE!!”

 

TRY

 

*BEEP*

 

“TWO!!”

 

TO

 

*BEEP*

 

“THREE!!”

 

RUN

 

*BEEP*

 

“FOUR!!!”

 

ME

 

*BEEP*

 

“FIVE!!”

 

OVER

 

*BEEP*

 

“SIX!!!”

 

EVER

 

*BEEP*

 

“SEVEN!!”

 

AGAIN!!

 

*BEEP*

 

“EIGHT!!”

 

Bruce pauses – then realizes he’s 2 short of the traditional ten

 

OKAY!!

 

*BEEP*

 

“NINE!!”

 

… OKAY!!

 

“Alright now he’s just grasping” King says, not very impressed by Bruce’s slow wit

 

Bruce drags Marcus out of the car and then quickly covers him in a puddle of water

 

ONE!!

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

THR-IDON’TTHINKSO!!! Ward’s right arm shoots out from under him breaking the count at the last split second. Bruce looks pissed off not sure what to do to the guy to put him away. He drops a knee on Ward’s head and then goes over on the opposite side of the Geo where he bends down.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING” King screams at the top of his lungs “Now, now King watch the potty mouth” Pete replies “We don’t’ want no fuc, fuc, fucking swearing on this show”

 

Bruce actually manages to lift up the side of the car but as it comes crashing down Marcus Ward narrowly escapes the crushing metal. Ward quickly grabs Bruce's legs and leverages him downt o the ground and surprises him with a roll-up for the pinning attempt.

 

ONE !!

 

 

TWO !!

 

 

Bruce manages to kick out, but turns right into Ward's arms, who quickly wraps them around Blank's waist and executes a full-over belly-to-belly suplex onto the pavement...bridging it for the pin!

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.....

 

The referee lowers his hand to create a third splash signifying a Marcus Ward victory, but Blank manages to muscle his way out of the bridge, leaving both men to scramble to their feet in the now torrential downpour. Marcus begins to approach Blank at a walk, when his foot hits one of the Conseco Fieldhouse Parking Lot potholes...and he tumbles backwards landing flat on his back as the driving rain slams into his still body. Bruce Blank eyes up the prone body of Ward, apparently not taking the slip at face value as he approaches him, yet also wasting valuable seconds of pinfall time if this really isn't a trick. Blank prods Marcus with his foot a few times...and simply places that foot in the center of his chest, indicating to the ref to begin the count.

 

 

 

ONE !!

 

 

TWO !!

 

 

 

THREE!!

 

 

 

No bell, no Funyon announcement, not even a fortuitous thundcrack indicates that this match is over and Bruce Blank is your new hardcore champion. Bruce walks to the devastated ring and retrieves his newfound title as medical attention swarms to Ward's apparently unconscious body. Even as the paramedics arrive at the scene and start getting checking his pulse...he stands up with little fanfare and begins walking off out of the parking lot, a small smirk apparent on the corner of his lips, leaving a very confused set of fans and staff behind.

 

 

 

"CRAP CRAP SHITTTY finish, and a load of BULLBALLS something FISHYSMELLINGHOLE"

 

That’s all Longdogger Pete gets to say before

 

*KRA-KRA-KRAKOOOOOOOOOMM!!*

 

Pete is once again hit by lighting. King can’t help but smile as he looks at his commentating partner. “If I know science, and I’ve seen a lot of Sci-Fi so I think I do, I bet Pete is cured of his Tourettes… and thank the fuck for that”

[chirs3 0]

The intrepid.. or is that insipid Ben Hardy is backstage in front of a huge ”SWF Storm” logo beaming from side to side, he’s got the scoop you just know it.

 

Ben Hardy: I just came from the commissioner’s office and it seems that…

 

Hardy turns pale as he sees someone off camera.

 

Ben Hardy: (under his breath) aw crap!

 

Moments later a very fired up Bruce comes into the shot, his newly won Hardcore Gamer’s title over his shoulder, a six pack dangling from his right and blood running down over his face both from his nose and his busted open eyebrow – he is indeed a very bizarre sight right now.

 

Bruce Blank: HEEEEEEEEEEEEY BENNY!!! Did you see that? WOOOOOOOOOH!!

 

Ben Hardy: You know I thought that ending was a little fishy

 

Bruce quickly grabs Ben Hardy by the shirt and pulls him in close.

 

Bruce Blank: You saying I ain’t earned this boy??

 

Ben Hardy: No I..

 

Bruce Blank: And don’t say shit about Marcus Ward, that guy has more fight in him than the entire 9th Air born division!!

 

Ben Hardy: You… you’re not drunk are you Bruce??

 

Ben had flashbacks to last week where Bruce ran around backstage drunk out of his skull

 

Bruce Blank: Not yet, but I gotta celebrate later. I know what you’re talking about though Benny – last week I got a little too drunk and said something stupid

 

Ben Hardy: The comment about you being able to beat Wild & Dangerous with me as your partner??

 

Hardy smiles hoping that was what Bruce was talking about, cause he knew that it was just a matter of time before a booker thought it was a great idea… and he was scared to tell the truth.

 

Bruce Blank: Naw that’s true enough (as an aside) dang pipsqueaks! No I was mistaken when I said no man under 250 was worth a damn in the ring, that’s not true.

 

Ben Hardy: I’m sure a lot of the great lightweights in this company are pleased to hear you say that.

 

Bruce Blank: Hold on you didn’t let me finish, what I meant to say was that there isn’t a man under 249 worth a damn, can’t insult Marcus Ward after THAT fight now can I?

 

Ben Hardy: But you… that’s hardly an apology

 

Bruce Blank: The beauty of it is that I don’t have to apologize! HAW! HAW!! See this??

 

Bruce slaps the Hardcore title on his shoulder.

 

Bruce Blank: This is my license

 

Ben Hardy: License??

 

Bruce Blank: Yup this is my license to take any of those flippity-floppity guys and stuff them in a trashcan!

 

Ben Hardy: But

 

Bruce Blank: This (holds up the title) is my license to crack Zyon’s skull with a snow shovel, it’s my license to slice Scott Pretzler open with a weed wacker – it’s my license to insert a garden gnome in Johnny Dangerous!!

 

Ben Hardy: Are you serious??

 

Bruce Blank: This title means that I can do whatever I need to to get the job done – BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY!! I ain’t hiding behind no gold. (chuckles) I’m much too big to hide anyways. Anyone wants me – come and get me, I’m right friggin’ here!!

 

Ben Hardy: You do know that it can’t be defended on all TV shows right?

 

Bruce Blank: Yeah that’s what the rules says… never was one for rules, always got me in trouble. Then again if someone should just… accidentally of course, just HAPPEN to smack let’s say J.J. Johnson upside the head with a pair of brass knucks it’s not like it’s a big deal is it?

 

Ben Hardy: It would be a big deal on Family Friendly Lockdown

 

Bruce just stares at Ben, you can tell the big man isn’t the “family friendly” kinda guy

 

Bruce Blank: You enjoy this don’t you??

 

Ben Hardy: What??

 

Bruce Blank: Pissing me off

 

Ben gulps hard as he turns pale – he had a feeling he might need to kiss his ass goodbye right about now cause Bruce looked pissed. In fact with the blood dripping onto his shirt, hands and Hardcore title he looked down right demented.

 

Bruce Blank: I might just have to get a big bankroll for Lockdown… if I’m booked against a little pipsqueak like Devon Walters I may accidentally wrap a chair around his head

 

Ben Hardy: Erm Bruce – Devon Walters is hardly a pipsqueak

 

Bruce Blank: He ain’t??

 

Ben Hardy: No he’s over 7 feet tall

 

Bruce stands there for a moment, racking his brain trying to figure out who he meant to say instead of the giant Hindu Devon Walters.

 

Bruce Blank: Right, sorry – I mean Danny Williams of course.

 

Ben Hardy: I wouldn’t really consider him ”little” in my book

 

Bruce Blank: You sure??

 

Ben Hardy: 265 pounds of pure power

 

Bruce Blank: oh… right, right.

 

It appears that Bruce has drawn a blank on who he meant to imply wrapping a chair around. As he thinks you can even see his lips move as he runs through various names. Then he suddenly tries to change the subject instead.

 

Bruce Blank: Well I can’t stay here and shoot the bull with you all night, as much as you love it. I got a championship to celebrate!!

 

Bruce pops a beer open, shakes it and then sprays both himself and Ben Hardy down with beer before he leaves.

 

Ben Hardy: I… erm… back to ringside?

[chirs3 0]

FADE IN

 

“Welcome back to Storm,” says Longdogger Pete, “and folks, after what’s happened earlier tonight, what was originally scheduled to be a Tag Team Title defense for Wild and Dangerous will now be a handicap match, as the Wildchild will attempt to take on both Hollywood Spike Jenkins and Zyon by himself!”

 

“And, let me point out that the Tag Team Titles are still on the line!” adds the Suicide King. “Not only will Wildchild have to take on two men tonight, but if he loses, he’ll cost his team the Tag Team Championship!”

 

“A lot of pressure on the shoulders of the Bahama Bomber,” says Pete, “but this youngster has proven that he can overcome all kinds of odds here in the SWF; handicap match or not, Spike and Zyon are going to have to bring their A-game if they want to leave Indianapolis tonight with the Tag Team belts! With that in mind, let’s send it up to Funyon for our ring introductions!”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Upon receiving his cue from the timekeeper, the nattily-dressed Funyon lifts the microphone to his lips and says, “ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the SWF World Tag Team Championship… and it will be contested under Handicap Rules! This contest is scheduled for one fall!

 

Suddenly, the Canseco Fieldhouse is flooded with intense white light, and the SmarkTron whites out. A hush falls over the crowd, which is quickly broken up by the obnoxious sound of a record needle scratching across an LP…

 

BAM!

 

… And leading into “Black Label” by Lamb of God. Just as the song begins to pick up the pace, a pair of silhouettes can be made out underneath the SmarkTron. Spike drops down to one knee, leaving one arm to hang to the ground, while the other is firmly placed on his knee. Besides him, a look of quiet contemplation across his face, is the Unique Youth, who watches as Spike rises after a few moments, and raises both arms into an “X.”

 

“Making their way to the ring at this time,” continues Funyon, as they proceed down the ramp, “are the challengers! At a total combined weight of four hundred twenty pounds… first, from Hollywood, California, ‘Hollywood’ SPIIIIIKE JENKINS! His tag team partner, from Elkhart, Indiana, ZYYYYYON!” Zyon leaps onto the ring apron as he approaches the ringside area, watching as Spike makes his way completely around the ring before rolling underneath the bottom rope. Jenkins continues rolling until he hits dead center in the middle of the ring, and then stops on his belly before rising to one knee, returning to the position he held at the top of the entranceway.

 

“The challengers appear to be focused on the task at hand,” notes Pete. Zyon slings himself over the top rope to enter the ring as Spike rises to his feet. Jenkins quickly peels off the hood, releasing his blonde, dyed hair free, and Zyon heads over to their corner, completing his pre-match stretch routine as Spike’s music fades out…

 

ATTENTION!

 

ALL YOU NIGGAZ!

 

ALL YOU BITCHES!

 

TIME TO PUT DOWN THE CRISTAL, TIME TO TAKE OFF THE ICE FOR A MINUTE…

 

 

TIME TO THROW A LITTLE MUD IN THIS MOTHERFUCKA…

 

The Indianapolis fans go crazy as “Let’s Get Dirty” kicks into full blast! A solitary spotlight illuminates the darkened arena, shining down on the head of the ramp and flashing intermittently in time with the beat, as the Bahama Bomber steps out onto the stage alongside his increasingly frequent companion.

 

“Their opponent,” booms Funyon, “is being accompanied to the ring by Melissa Fasaki! From the Bahamas, weighing in at two hundred fourteen pounds, one-half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions…the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild shows Melissa off for the crowd before the two make their way down the ring, hand in hand. Also noteworthy is the fact that Melissa has the other Tag Team Title belt slung over her shoulder.

 

“Wildchild has his work cut out for him,” says LDP, “but if anybody can overcome these odds, it’s him; remember that Wildchild went toe-to-toe with Scott Pretzler and Jay Hawke in what started out as a handicap match back at From the Fire, and was very impressive on that occasion!”

 

“Well, in that match, he was facing two rookies out of their element in a cage,” replies King. “I guarantee you that, if that match were to take place again today, the results would be VERY different! And even in this match, he’s got to contend with a wily veteran in Spike Jenkins, a man who has had it in for Wildchild since they first crossed paths in the JL, and you can bet he won’t let the opportunity to beat Wildchild for these belts pass him by!”

 

“Speaking of opportunity,” chimes Pete, “a few eyebrows were raised by the way Spike Jenkins kind of manipulated Lockdown commissioner Joseph Peters into getting a title shot here tonight.” Melissa applauds Wildchild as he somersaults into the ring, springing to his feet and lifting his hands into the air. Wildchild removes his Championship belt as the lights come back on in Canseco Fieldhouse and hands it to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington. Herrington walks over to the edge of the ring and retrieves the other belt from Melissa, and then raises them overhead to display to the fans as Wildchild’s music fades out. Herrington then orders Wildchild to remove his shin guards, and waits to see that his order is followed before walking across the edge of the ring and handing the Championship belts to Funyon.

 

“Am I the only person in the room who feels that it’s a little inappropriate for Melissa Fasaki to be holding Johnny Dangerous’ Tag Team Title belt?” asks King. “I mean, it’s not her place at all!”

 

“King, the belt had to be brought down to ringside, so that it can be awarded to the new champions, in case Spike and Zyon actually come away victorious,” replies Pete. “Well, as many of you fans know, Storm is usually known for being the SWF’s ‘no rules’ program. However, due to the special circumstances surrounding this match, the SWF Championship Committee has ruled that standard rules will be observed in this handicap match, meaning that only one member of the challenging team is allowed to be in the ring at a time, and that count-outs and disqualifications will be enforced.”

 

“And, of course, the flipside of that is that Wildchild has to take off those damned shin guards,” adds King. “But this is the second time that the Championship Committee has made a ruling to protect this guy! I’m sick of it, quite frankly!”

 

“Come on, King!” replies Pete. “This was originally intended to be a two-on-two tag team match… I think that the Committee should be allowed a little latitude in this circumstance, given that Wildchild took it upon himself to defend the titles on behalf of his team.”

 

“He didn’t have to accept the match,” counters King. “If he had any brains, he would have asked for a continuance until Johnny could team with him!” Herrington signals the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Bell’s gone,” says Pete. “And we’re underway!” Spike and Wildchild approach each other in the center of the ring, but just before they can lock up in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, Wildchild dives behind Jenkins, hooking the inside of his leg and pulling him into a schoolboy pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Spike is so surprised by the sudden pin attempt that he remains down for a two-count, but he still manages to kick out at two! Wildchild races to the ropes and springs into the air as he rebounds, extending his body as Spike gets back to his feet and immediately knocking him back down to the canvas with a cross-body block!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Spike pushes Wildchild off him and rolls onto his stomach, but as he pushes up onto his knees, Wildchild runs over to him and grabs him by the arm, twisting it around his leg and snaring Jenkins in a Magistral cradle!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Jenkins once again kicks out at two, and quickly rolls to his feet. He lunges to his feet, arm raised to deliver a fierce right hook, but the Bahama Bomber easily ducks behind Jenkins and grabs him by the waist, pulling him backwards into a rolling cradle!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Hollywood once again kicks out, but Wildchild beats him to his feet and blazes to the ropes, exploding off the canvas as he rebounds and knocking Jenkins down with a flying shoulder tackle! He grabs both of Spike’s legs and cranks back for a pin:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

… But only gets two! Wildchild pulls Spike to his feet, only for Jenkins to stun him with a rake of the eyes. Spike runs to the ropes, charging towards Wildchild as he rebounds, but the Human Hurricane deftly avoids him with a leapfrog, and then springs back up off the canvas to land on Spike’s shoulders as he bounces off the ropes a second time. Before Jenkins can even react, Wildchild shifts his weight forward, pulling Spike into a victory roll!

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH— KICKOUT!

 

 

“Wildchild is pulling out all the stops to try and get a quick win!” says LDP. “He’s running Spike ragged in there!” Wildchild beats Jenkins to his feet and runs to the ropes, leaping off the mat and whipping his leg through the air as he heads back towards Spike, leveling him with a flying leg lariat! Wildchild drops down to apply a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE—

 

 

 

But Zyon runs in and grabs Wildchild’s leg, pulling him off of Spike to make the save! Wildchild gets to his feet as Herrington admonishes Zyon for his interference.

 

“Zyon had to make the save there, or else Spike could have been done for!” says Pete. Wildchild walks over to the challenger’s corner and gets in Zyon’s face for breaking up the pin before turning his attention back to the center of the ring…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Only to be smashed by a running lariat, courtesy of Hollywood! Jenkins staggers over to his corner, breathing heavily as he makes the tag to Zyon.

 

“I tell you what, King, Jenkins is out of breath already,” notes LDP. “I really do think that he might have been pinned there!”

 

“Well, all those quick pins will take their toll on someone,” says King. “When you have to push two hundred and twenty pounds off your chest seven times in less than two minutes, it’s going to wear you out!” Zyon hops over the top rope and heads over towards Wildchild, but the Bahama Bomber takes him over with an armdrag! Zyon gets to his feet, only to be taken down by a second armdrag! Wildchild quickly gets to his knees and shifts into an armbar, applying the pressure to the Unique Youth.

 

“Wildchild quickly regains control of the match with a couple of armdrags,” says LDP. “And King, you have to admit that Wildchild has improved dramatically as a wrestler!”

 

“Well, there was nowhere for him to go but up,” counters King. “And just think about some of the competition he’s had to face in the last few months; he’s wrestled extensively against the likes of Scott Pretzler, Jay Hawke and even Ejiro Fasaki… that’s bound to have a positive effect, even on a guy like Wildchild!” Zyon negotiates his way to his feet and backs Wildchild into a neutral corner. Herrington orders Zyon to separate, and the Unique Youth takes a few steps back before trying to catch Wildchild off-guard with a quick right hand, but the Caribbean Cruiser is even quicker, blocking the punch with his left forearm! Wildchild then dropping to his knees, knocking Zyon onto his back with a double-leg takedown, before grabbing both of his legs and flipping forward to hold him down with a jackknife pin!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Zyon kicks out and quickly rolls to his feet, but Wildchild trips him again with a leg sweep and applies a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Zyon kicks out again, but Wildchild beats him to his feet and races to the ropes, making the most of a rare weight advantage as he rebounds to knock Zyon back down with a running shoulderblock! Wildchild falls atop Zyon for a third cover…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Zyon kicks out at two, and the two speedsters finally return to neutral ground. They meet in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up, and Wildchild takes Zyon down with a side headlock takeover, but Zyon counters with a headscissors, forcing him to break the hold. They tie up again and Wildchild once again establishes control with a side headlock, this time remaining on his feet. Zyon backs Wildchild into the ropes and then pushes him across the ring…

 

 

CRACK!

 

Spike raises his knee as Wildchild bounces off the ropes, driving it into the small of his back! Zyon pushes Wildchild into his corner where he makes the tag to Spike, but before Hollywood can enter the ring, Wildchild explodes into action, hammering back and forth between Zyon and Jenkins with lightning-fast rights and lefts to both men!

 

 

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

 

 

“Wow!” exclaims LDP. “Look at Wildchild fire away!” Spike makes his way into the ring and he and Zyon overwhelm Wildchild with clubbing forearms to the back, but Red Herrington orders Zyon to the apron before things can get out of hand. While Herrington is preoccupied with Zyon, Spike whips Wildchild into the ropes, only for the Human Hurricane to leap onto the top ropes and curl into a ball as he springs back into the ring, flooring Jenkins with his patented Pinball attack! Wildchild immediately scrambles back to his feet and runs to the edge of the ring, leaping to the top rope and springing backwards into the ring as he rotates forward…

 

 

SPLASH!

 

 

… To crash into Spike with the Falling Star Press!

 

 

“FSP!” shrieks Pete. “I can’t believe it; this match is over!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

But, although the crowd counts the pinfall loudly enough to be heard by Red Herrington, the referee’s attention has been diverted by the Unique Youth, who keeps him distracted while Wildchild attempts to cover his partner.

 

“Wildchild’s got Spike down for the count, but there’s no referee to count it!”

 

“Excellent teamwork on the part of Zyon and Spike Jenkins,” says King. “Not only is Red Herrington out of position to assess the pinfall, but he’s allowing Spike some critical recovery time after that devastating body splash!” Finally realizing that a pinfall is taking place inside the ring, Herrington dives into position to count the shoulders:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Spike kicks out at two and, as Wildchild attempts to pull him to his feet, stuns him with a headbutt to the midsection. Spike grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him into the ropes, but the Tropical Tumbler dives headfirst towards the edge of the ring, balancing his weight on his hands and using the ropes to propel him back into the ring as he handsprings back towards Jenkins. Wildchild backflips through the air as Spike runs underneath him and avoids him again with another leapfrog as he bounces off the ropes. Wildchild leaps into the air as Jenkins rebounds a second time, landing on Spike’s shoulders as he seeks to hit a second victory roll…

 

 

THWACK!

 

 

… But this time, Hollywood is able to maintain control of his opponent’s weight, and turns around towards the edge of the ring before suddenly pitching forward, slamming Wildchild throat-first across the top rope!

 

“Hot shot!” exclaims King. “Brilliant counter by Spike Jenkins!”

 

“Definitely,” agrees Pete. “That took tremendous presence of mind, as well as ring awareness, given the punishment that he’s taken to this point!” Spike stands up and slowly pulls Wildchild to his feet, before wheeling around and knocking him back down with a vicious Roaring Elbow! The new Straight-Edge Sensation runs his hands through his sweat-soaked hair before raising them above his head and crossing them together over his head.

 

“Spike Jenkins finally able to get in some offense,” notes Pete, “but he’d better not let up on Wildchild!” Jenkins takes a few steps back, measuring Wildchild as he rolls to his knees…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… And blasting him with a kick to the chest! Jenkins nails Wildchild with another kick to the chest, causing him to lean back wearily on his knees as Spike measures him for a devastating kick to the face… but the Bahama Bomber was playing possum! He snatches Spike’s foot out of the air before it can make contact and locks his arm Hollywood’s knee before wrenching his whole body around with a ferocious Dragon Screw leg-whip! Wildchild maintains control of Spike’s knee, pulling himself back up as Jenkins hollers in pain, and then traps his leg in a standing grapevine, twisting around and reaching down to grab his other leg before falling back to the canvas with a figure-four leglock!

 

 

RAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

“Figure four!” cries Pete “We could get a submission right here!” Melissa cheers for Wildchild along with the crowd as Red Herrington drops to one knee, asking Hollywood if he wants to give up, and allowing Zyon the distraction he needs to reach down and rake Wildchild across the eyes, forcing him to break the hold!

 

“Did Zyon thumb Wildchild?”

 

“He sure did,” replies LDP. “I didn’t think that Zyon was the type to resort to such actions!”

 

“Well, he’s already had a taste of gold here in the SWF,” says King. “Maybe he’s desperate enough to get his hands on some more that he’s willing to take chances like that!” Spike rolls over to his corner and makes the tag to Zyon, who returns to the ring. Zyon lifts Wildchild back up off the canvas, only to plant him with a Scoop Slam, and then heads to his corner and climbs up to the top turnbuckle. The Unique Youth leaps fearlessly back into the ring with a moonsault, but Wildchild moves out of the way! Wildchild races to the edge of the ring as Zyon stumbles to his feet and leaps onto the top rope, curling into a ball as he springs off to deliver the Pinball, but the native Hoosier ducks out of the way, and capitalizes on Wildchild’s surprised state to take him down with a side headlock takeover! The Bahama Bomber recovers quickly, though, and counters with a headscissors, which Zyon rolls through, flipping forward into a pinning combination!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

But Wildchild plants his feet on the canvas and bridges his way out of the pin attempt! He maintains control over Zyon’s waist as he rotates from underneath him to above him, and then once more as he sets himself into a position to execute a backslide!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR—

 

 

But Spike runs in to make the save! Spike and Zyon pulls Wildchild to his feet as Herrington orders Jenkins to vacate the ring, and they whip him into the ropes, lowering their heads to deliver a double backdrop, but Wildchild kicks Spike away and then hooks Zyon with an inside cradle!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

KICKOUT!

 

 

Wildchild races to the ropes, picking up speed as he bounces off, but Zyon snatches him up in a hiptoss, and quickly transitions into a falling neckbreaker!

 

“Disconnect!” cries Pete. “Zyon takes Wildchild out of the sky, showing that he can just about match him with speed moves!” Zyon crawls over to the corner and tags Spike back in, who runs in and keeps Wildchild down on the mat with a soccer tackle! He pulls Wildchild to his feet and whips him into a neutral corner, running to the ropes as he bounces chest-first off the turnbuckles, and leaping into the air, snaring him by the neck and driving him down into the canvas with his patented Phantom neckbreaker! Spike drags Wildchild over to his corner where he makes a quick tag to Zyon.

 

“Well, Wildchild got off to a hot start, but the numbers game has finally caught up with him,” says King, as Zyon goes to work on Wildchild’s back with a series of quick jumping kneedrops. “And now the machinery is starting to smooth out between Jenkins and Zyon!” Hollywood barks directions at Zyon and raises his knee up as the Unique Youth pushes Wildchild across the ring and whips him towards his corner into Spike’s knee… but the Bahama Bomber reverses the whip and sends Zyon crashing stomach-first into his partner’s knee instead!

 

“Nice reversal by Wildchild!” shouts Pete. “That should buy him a little time!”

 

“Not enough,” counters King, as Zyon tags Jenkins back in. “He whipped Zyon right into his corner!” Spike comes back into the ring and viciously stomps on the back of Wildchild, who crawls instinctively towards his empty corner. Spike pushes Wildchild back onto his knees and assaults him with a battery of stiff Shotei to the face, before pulling him up and whipping him into the ropes, but as he lowers his head to deliver a backdrop, Wildchild leaps over him, wrapping both arms around his waist and taking him over in a Sunset Flip!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

… But Spike tags Zyon on his way down! Red Herrington sees the tag and abandons his count, leaving Wildchild helpless as Zyon rushes in behind him and blasts him with a basement dropkick to the back of the head! Zyon pulls Wildchild to his feet and whips him into the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds and knocking him down with a front dropkick! Zyon quickly kips back up to his feet, earning a respectable pop from the crowd.

 

“Zyon takes Wildchild down with that patented Snap dropkick,” says LDP. “And King, you were right: the challengers are getting into a groove here!” Zyon pulls Wildchild back to his feet and whips him into the ropes, but Wildchild surprises him by exploding into the air as he rebounds and knocking the Unique Youth down with a cross-body block!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Zyon kicks out at two, quickly rolls to his corner, making another quick tag to Spike Jenkins, who steps back in, and keeps Wildchild down with a running elbow smash!

 

“It looked like Zyon underestimated Wildchild’s resilience there, as he was nearly surprised with that high-cross body!”

 

“Yeah, but Zyon was able to make the tag,” replies King, as Hollywood goes for his patented crossface submission. “And now Jenkins is going for that Strong Island Stretch of his!” Spike can’t lock the move in, as Wildchild fights him all the way, scrambling towards the edge of the ring and holding onto the ropes until Red Herrington demands a break.

 

“Wildchild’s a fighter,” says LDP. “You’ve gotta give him that, King!”

 

“Well, I’ll give him that much,” concedes King, “but he’s been in that ring an awful long time, given the stipulation. I mean, let’s be real here, MacDougal: he’s had to wrestle two guys for the past seven or eight minutes. He’s going to have to think of something quick, or else he’s gonna go down!” Jenkins pulls Wildchild to his feet and whips him into a neutral corner, but the Bahama Bomber reverses, sending Spike crashing back-first into the turnbuckles instead! Wildchild races in after him, leaping off the canvas as he approaches the corner and spinning around in midair as he executes his Blue Crush splash…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But Zyon races across the apron and grabs Spike’s arm, pulling him to safety, and causing Wildchild to crash face-first into the top turnbuckle! Spike makes the tag to Zyon, who quickly gets into the ring and swoops in behind Wildchild, scooping him up into a slam position and twisting back towards the ring as he sits out, spiking Wildchild’s head into the canvas with the Aero Driver! Zyon leans forward as he applies a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE— NO!

 

 

Wildchild is barely able to get the shoulder up! Zyon pulls Wildchild back to his feet and slams him back down to the mat before exiting to the ring apron and climbing onto top turnbuckle.

 

“Wildchild was just barely able to avoid being pinned after that Aero Driver,” says Pete, “but I don’t think that there’ll be any kicking out if Zyon hits whatever he’s planning from the top!” The Unique Youth leaps off the turnbuckle, flipping his body forward four hundred and fifty degrees to crash into Wildchild with a Firebird Splash!

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But Wildchild rolls out of the danger zone, causing Zyon to crash into the canvas! Wildchild once again crawls instinctively towards his corner as Zyon recovers behind him.

 

“Wildchild trying to make it to his corner, but he knows there’s nobody there!” says LDP. “He’s running on instinct right now!”

 

“Well, he might still have a chance if this were a one-on-one matchup,” says King, “but as long as Zyon and Jenkins can tag in and out, the conclusion of this match is only a matter of time!” Zyon beats Wildchild to his feet and stops his progress with a running elbow drop! He then pulls Wildchild to his feet and whips him into the ropes, but as he lowers his head to deliver a back-body drop…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Wildchild leaps into the air and drives his face into the canvas with a Caribbean Cutter!

 

 

RAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

“Cutter!” exclaims Pete, as Melissa and the fans cheer Wildchild on. “He knocked the wind right out of Zyon!” Suddenly, a surge of adrenaline runs through Wildchild, as he uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet. He runs across the ring as Zyon struggles to get to his knees…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… But as he reaches the ropes, Hollywood pulls down on the top rope, causing him to spill out to the arena floor!

 

“Oh no!” cries LDP. “Just when it looked like Wildchild might be able to mount an insurmountable comeback, Spike Jenkins pulled the rug out from under him!”

 

“Well, if he had any brains, he should have went for the pin immediately after he hit that Cutter,” replies King. “So he brought this on himself. But you have to credit Spike Jenkins; that was some quick thinking to keep the momentum on the side of his team, and I’ll bet that he can smell the leather on those belts right now!” Jenkins pulls Wildchild to his feet outside the ring, holding him in place and barking directions to Zyon as he returns to his feet inside the ring. Zyon nods his head in acknowledgement to Jenkins as Herrington admonishes Hollywood from inside the ring and then races across the ring to build momentum as he bounces off the ropes…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But he suddenly falls flat on his face as he’s tripped from outside the ring!

 

 

“Wait a minute!” shrieks King. “That’s Johnny Dangerous!”

 

“What the hell is he doing here?” bellows LDP, as Johnny slides into the ring. He immediately runs over to the corner and bends down to grab one of Wildchild’s shin guards, measuring the Unique Youth as he waits for him to get back to his feet, only to blast him in the face with the shin guard!

 

 

 

 

… Just as Red Herrington turns his attention back towards the ring!

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“Are you kidding?” shouts LDP. “A disqualification after all that?”

 

“It was a setup!” roars King. “They probably planned this all along! Wild and Dangerous using chicanery to hold onto the titles!”

 

“I can’t believe that Johnny would stoop so low!” growls LDP. “If he wanted to be a part of this match, he should have come down to the ring with Wildchild to defend the titles!”

 

“Well, obviously he has more important things on his mind tonight,” replies King, “but you can’t blame him for wanting to hold on to the gold that he has left; personally, I think that it was a brilliant plan by Johnny Dangerous!”

 

“What you call a brilliant plan, I call a miscarriage of justice, King!” says Pete. “Let’s get the official word!”

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “the referee awards this bout, as a result of a disqualification, to the team of Zyon and ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins… However, the title cannot change hands on a disqualification, therefore, STILL the SWF World Tag Team Champions… WILD! AAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!”

 

“Fuel My Fire” by the Prodigy begins to play as Johnny snatches the Tag Team Titles from Funyon and absentmindedly drops one of them at Wildchild’s feet as he makes his way back up the ramp.

 

“Folks, I only hope that the Championship Committee reviews the outcome of this match,” says Pete, “as Spike Jenkins and Zyon were robbed of a chance to become the Tag Team Champions! We’ll be back with more SWF Storm, after this!”

 

Zyon and Spike stand in the ring, glaring angrily up the ramp at Johnny’s retreating back, while Wildchild his helped to his feet by Melissa, as confused by his partner’s actions as his opponents are angry…

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[chirs3 0]

FADE IN

 

Johnny Dangerous is sitting down in Wild and Dangerous’ locker room, his Tag Team Championship belt in the chair right beside him, as he laces boots in preparation for his upcoming match against El Luchadore Magnifico. Suddenly, he hears noise from around the corner, and rises to his feet as Wildchild barges in with Melissa.

 

“Dude,” barks Wildchild, “what the hell? What was dat (bleep) all about?”

 

Johnny’s eyes narrow into slits as he looks across the room at his erstwhile partner. “Excuse me?”

 

“What was de idea wit you comin’ down to de ring tonight?” asks Wildchild. “I thought you said dat you had more important t’ings t’do?”

 

“Look, Dominic,” replies Johnny, “just because I have more important things to worry about doesn’t mean that I don’t care about holding onto the Tag Team Titles… You looked like you could use a hand, so I helped you out.”

 

“Screw dat!” replies Wildchild, as Melissa nods in the background. “You humiliated me, is what you did! First you put me in a position t’get de hell beat out of me, an’ den you make me look weak by interfering in de match! What’s de big idea?”

 

“Yeah!” squeaks Melissa. “For someone who claims to care about Wildchild like a brother, you sure don’t try very hard to treat him like one!”

 

Johnny’s face turns bright red at Melissa’s accusations, and his eyes bulge in anger. “Listen here, Missy,” he says through clenched teeth, “you don’t know a (bleep)-damned thing about Wild and Dangerous so stop trying to act like you do and mind your own (bleep)ing business! I came down to that ring,” Johnny pauses as he swivels his head towards Wildchild, “and I did for you what you wouldn’t do for me, and because of me we are still Tag Team Champions!”

 

“What de hell is dat supposed to mean? You want ta blame me for you losing de World Heavyweight Championship ta Danny Williams!? I’ve got news for ya Johnny – I don’t cheat!”

 

“Well maybe you should learn how, Dominic! We are Champions and as such we have the right to do whatever is needed to claim victory! I saw you struggling so I made the save and instead of coming in here and bitching about it maybe you should be happy that you still have a piece of Gold to carry around with you. Maybe you should learn to appreciate the things I’ve done for you, Dominic! And maybe, just maybe…you’ll realize that you should return the favor tonight when I face El Luchadore Magnifico and help send me to a third World Championship reign! If you don’t,” says Johnny, brushing past Wildchild on his way out the door. “I’ll know where your loyalty lies!”

 

“Now wait jus’ a (bleep)-damned minute!” says Wildchild, clasping his hand firmly on Johnny’s shoulder. The Barracuda glares at him with increasing irritation as he continues. “I don’ know what de hell’s gotten into you, but dat ain’t de way we do business; it’s NEVER been de way we do business, at least as far as I’m concerned! We’ve held dese belts four times, Johnny, an’ we’ve never had t’cheat t’hold on t’dem! You really need t’tink about where your head’s at!”

 

“He’s right,” co-signs Melissa. “You need to take a long hard look at yourself, and think about where you want to be spiritually.”

 

“First of all, Missy, when I want your opinion, I’ll ask Dominic for it!” growls Johnny. “Women are to be seen, touched, and tasted… not heard. So, if you want to make yourself useful, you can run over to the cafeteria and get us a couple of sandwiches, or something. Get the hell out of here and let the men talk!”

 

“I’ve had about enough of you talkin’ dat way t’Melissa,” warns Wildchild. “I t’ink you owe her an apology!”

 

“You’re right,” replies Johnny, turning towards Melissa with a sneer on his face. “I’m sorry, Ms. Fasaki… I’m sorry for what I’m going to do to you if you don’t GET THE (BLEEP) OUT OF HERE!”

 

A terrified Melissa runs out of the locker room, and Wildchild slams Johnny up against the wall. “Dat was out of bounds, Johnny!”

 

Offering no reply to his partner, Johnny just stares back with narrow eyes as Wildchild holds a firm grip to the Barracuda’s collar. He let’s go of the Secret Agent and then takes a step back, shaking as he speaks.

 

“Everyt’ing wit’ you has been out of bounds…everyt’ing! How you talk t’our fans – disrespecting them…disrespecting me an den disrespecting Melissa! The Johnny Dangerous I know would never act like you’ve been acting!”

 

CRACK!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and Johnny’s foot suddenly darts out, connecting squarely in the Wildchild’s jaw with a Johnny-Kick! Instantly, the Bahaman falls to the floor like the proverbial sack of potatoes. Johnny coldly gazes at his tag partner—brother—knocked out cold, and then whips his high-tech shades out, places them on his face…and walks out of the room.

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[chirs3 0]

“And welcome back to SWF Storm, ladies and gentlemen!” LDP cheerfully greets the audience at home, having survived yet another mind-numbing commercial break. “We’ve had a fantastic show thus far, which has led up to our unexpected yet incredibly promising Main Event!”

 

“Well said, Pete!” King compliments. “For once. Esteemed SWF Power-That-Be made this match earlier in the evening, in which El Luchadore Magnifico will take on Johnny Dangerous for the Number One Contendership to the World Heavyweight Title! And what’s more, it’s under Hardcore rules!”

 

“Danny Williams shocked the world on Lockdown when he pinned Johnny Dangerous and took his World Title, abruptly ending Johnny’s reign.” Pete explains. “ELM feels he’s entitled to the first shot at Danny because the two had a match scheduled already; Johnny wants the first shot because he’s entitled a rematch.”

 

“Gotta admit, Johnny’s kinda getting the short end of the stick here.” King adds. “But hey, not that I care. This is Magnifico’s chance to show the world the good his new, superiror attitude is doing him.”

 

“Maybe so, but you have to remember that this is a Hardcore Match.” Pete counters. “Magnifico’s traditionally had trouble in this sort of match, and this might just be a bump in the road for Dangerous on his way to getting his rematch.”

 

King scoffs. “That’s nonsense. Magnifico embarassed Wildchild in a No Disqualification Match at Ground Zero, and that’s basically the same thing. ELM’s gonna be victorious tonight and destroy Johnny at Genesis V.”

 

“Well, there’s only one way to find out...” Pete tellingly replies.

 

“HEY HEY!”

 

*BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

As if on cue, Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” hits the speakers, accompanied by a burst of red, white, and green pyro that explodes upwards from the makeshift entrance stage. Every fan in attendance is out of their folding chair, booing their little hearts out, and only grow louder when El Luchadore Magnifico bursts out from behind the pyro-created smoke, his head bobbing to the pounding beat of his entrance music and his Mexican flag flapping gracefully behind him.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest follows Hardcore Rules, and is for the Number One Contendership to the World Heavyweight Championship!” Funyon happily announces. “Introducing first, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds...EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOOOORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Magnifico quickly strides down the entrance ramp, his expression telling of the concentration he’s giving to this night’s contest. He reaches the ring and rolls beneath its bottom rope, before popping to his feet and stepping into the center of the squared circle. ELM slowly, coldly looks out over the audience, before thrusting his Mexican flag high into the air, drawing a fresh wave of boos from the annoyed crowd. Magnifico ignores them and hands his flag to the ref before retiring to a corner. He stares intently at the entrance stage as he begins his pre-match stretching, eager to get this contest started.

 

“Look at that! Complete concentration!” King marvels. “Sit there and tell me that Magnifico won’t win this match.”

 

“Mag won’t win this match.” Pete deadpans. King scowls. “’Course, I’m just saying this to spite you. The fact is, Johnny is just as pissed as Magnifico is determined. Dangerous is incensed at having lost his title and his rematch. Considering that the Hardcore Rules basically give him Carte Blanche to beat the everloving shit out of Magnifico, I’d say the luchadore needs to worry more about surviving this match than winning it.”

 

“JOHNNY DANGEROUS~!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The lights dim as the fans rabidly boo the telltale sultry voice, which signals the entrance of one Johnny Dangerous. They’re loud enough to drown out the strains of “After The Flesh” by My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult, and only grow louder when Johnny saunters out from behind the stage, cutting through the smoke being pumped in from both sides of the stage. Dangerous immediately locks eyes with his opponent and scowls at the luchadore, the man on who he is to take out his rage finally within his sight.

 

“And now, from Las Vegas, Nevada...” Funyon begins, shouting over the crowd, “Weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds...JOOOOOOHNNNNNNEEEEE DAAAAAAAAAYYY-NGEROUS!!”

 

“You know, come to think of it, there are quite a few parallels between Johnny and Magnifico.” Pete thoughtfully begins. “Both have enjoyed great success in this fed as Cruiserweights, both have had long and storied careers, both have taken extended time off at some point, and both recently have had the fans turn on them in a swift and unexpected manner.”

 

“Yeah, but Magnifico’s turn has a lot more snap to it.” King adds. “These ungrateful pricks turned on Mag the second he had his hands around Wildchild’s throat. Johnny’s turn took a whole match.”

 

“Are you comparing the quality of the manner in which Magnifico and Johnny abandoned their ideals and turned on their friends?” Pete questions without a trace of sarcasm.

 

“Yes. No. Wait, what?” King answers, befuddled.

 

Johnny hastens down the ramp, not breaking his stare with the luchadore for a moment. To his credit, Magnifico barely blinks as he meets Dangerous’ glaze, up until the point where he reaches the ring and rolls beneath its bottom rope. He pops to his feet, and without wasting a moment, immediately strides towards the luchadore. Magnifico straightens up upon seeing this, which makes it easier for Johnny to walk up to him and pop him right in the face! The surprised crowd cheers for the unexpected blow as ELM quickly shakes off his initial shock and returns the punch, igniting a ferocious brawl between Dangerous and Magnifico to start the match! The referee hastily signals for the bell as the live audience shouts and cheers, happy to see the two men they dislike so passionately beating the living hell out of each other.

 

DING DING DING

 

“And Johnny cannot wait one moment more for this match to get started!” Pete cries. “He is hell bent, perhaps even desperate to win this match and get his shot at Danny!”

 

“And that’ll be his downfall.” King smugly counters. “Johnny’ll run out of gas within a couple minutes and walk right into Magnifico’s elaborate and brilliant trap. Checkmate.”

 

Johnny and Magnifico brawl fairly evenly for a bit, but Dangerous eventually takes control and backs the luchadore into the corner with a quick right-left-right combination. He then grabs ELM by the arm and whips him across the ring, running after him as the luchadore rushes towards the far corner. But as Magnifico approaches said corner, he runs up its turnbuckles and pushes backwards off of the top one, flipping backwards off of it and over a charging Johnny! Dangerous isn’t able to stop himself in time and crashes chest-first into the empty corner, just as Magnifico is landing on his feet behind him! Johnny stumbles backwards out of the corner and is promptly trapped in a Rear Waistlock by ELM. However, before Magnifico can do anything with it, Dangerous suddenly throws his leg backwards and drives it into ELM’s groin, causing him to immediately release Johnny and double over in excruciating pain! As irritated boos rise from the audience, Dangerous spins around and lashes out with his foot, slamming it into the side of Magnifico’s head with devastating impact! ELM is twisted in mid-air by the force of the kick as he falls to the mat while the impressed fans “OHHHHH!” despite themselves. Moving quickly, Johnny covers the luchadore, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting.

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Magnifico kicks out right after two, drawing slightly more cheers than boos for doing so.

 

“Amazingly quick kick from Johnny to ELM’s skull after that low blow!” Pete announces. “Frankly, I’m really not surprised at all Johnny is resorting to lowly tactics this early in the match. It only speaks of how badly Dangerous wants to win this contest.”

 

“Yeah, and the fact that he really doesn’t give a damn anymore about following the rules.” King shrugs. “A few weeks ago, maybe, but not so much these days.”

 

Johnny quickly rolls off of Magnifico and begins to stomp away wildly at him, drawing a rare wave of sympathetic boos for the luchadore. ELM starts pushing himself to his feet despite the kicks, but is grabbed by Dangerous halfway up and pulled the rest of the way, right before being whipped towards the far ropes. Magnifico bounces off of said ropes and charges back towards Johnny, who greets the luchadore by driving his palm forward, looking to slam it into ELM’s chest with a Shotei! However, ELM manages to dodge the driving palm and catch it beneath his left arm, right before throwing his knee forward and slam it into Johnny’s gut! Dangerous doubles over, allowing Magnifico to fall backwards to the mat with Johnny’s arm in tow, slamming his shoulder into the canvas with a Single Arm DDT! Dangerous immediately clutches the shoulder and rolls onto his back as the sharply divided fans react as one. Magnifico immediately pops back to his feet and begins stomping away at the shoulder he just drove into the mat, hardly discouraged by Johnny’s attempts to cover said body part.

 

“Very sharp reversal from Magnifico.” King states, impressed. “He avoided Johnny’s Shotei just as easily as he once dodged the bastard MacPhisto’s.”

 

“Random and unjustified hate for the Carnival and its members aside.” Pete interjects. “I must admit it was a fine reversal. That Single Arm DDT can do significant damage to one’s shoulder, and it appears that Magnifico will now have a clear body part to target for the remainder of the match.”

 

ELM abruptly stops his stomping and grabs Johnny by the arm, using said grip to jerk Dangerous to his feet and jar his elbow a little looser. With Dangerous in tow, Magnifico hops onto the second turnbuckle of the nearby corner right before unexpectedly leaping over the top rope, still holding tightly onto Johnny’s arm! As ELM falls, he snaps Johnny’s arm over the top rope, causing Dangerous to cry out in pain, grasp his shoulder, and stumble towards the corner furthest Magnifico. ELM lands on his feet on the outside, grins to himself, and dives right back into the ring. He pops to his feet and strides over to Johnny, who is leaning back-first against a corner. Magnifico grabs him by the damaged arm and whips Dangerous across the ring, towards the far corner. Johnny crashes into the corner back-first and stumbles out of it. Magnifico steps into the center of the ring and waits for Dangerous, and as he approaches, the luchadore throws his head beneath one of Johnny’s arms and hooks his hand beneath the other one, setting him up for the Rio Grange Slam! However, the second Dangerous is locked into position, he slams his elbow into the side of Magnifico’s head, throroughly stunning the luchadore and preventing him from landing the Slam! With ELM stunned, Johnny is able to hook his foot around the luchadore’s leg and grab him beneath the arm. Dangerous then suddenly and swiftly falls backwards, sweeping Magnifico off of his feet and slamming his face into the canvas with a Reverse Russian Leg Sweep! Johnny immediately turns the luchadore over and covers him, drawing the ref down to the mat to make the count as a fresh wave of boos pours in from the live audience.

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Magnifico gets a shoulder up at two and a half. Johnny glowers at the luchadore as he rolls off of him and to his feet.

 

“Magnifico’s not the only one limited to making great counters.” Pete offers. “Johnny swiftly turns ELM’s Rio Grande Slam into a Reverse Russian Leg Sweep which quickly halts Magnifico’s momentum.”

 

“Not bad.” King conceds. “Not bad at all. But let’s not forget that Johnny’s basically been fighting Magnifico off for the entire match. If he doesn’t take control soon, ELM will eventually land one of his big moves and that’ll be it for Dangerous’ hopes for a rematch.”

 

Visibly frustrated, Johnny rolls off of the luchadore, grabs him by the hair and tights, and then stands up, pulling Magnifico to his feet in the process. With ELM in his grasp, Dangerous spins around once before suddenly throwing the luchadore forward, sending him hurtling into the air and through the nearby ropes! Magnifico crashes chest-first on the outside and rolls to the guardrail, clutching his ribs as the nearby fans goad and taunt him mercilessly.

 

“Looks like Johnny’s ready to make use of this match’s stipulation.” LDP comments. “What Magnifico does in the next couple minutes will show us if he can hang with Dangeorus in a Hardcore Match or not.”

 

With ELM suffering on the outisde, Dangerous take a moment to look out over the crowd and smile graciously. He waves to the sea of folding-chair-filling humanity and receives a massive wave of irritated boos in return. Ignoring it, Johnny continues to smile and blows a few kisses before hitting the mat and rolling to the outside. He stands on the floor and strides over to the luchadore, who’s on his hands and knees and struggling to his feet. Dangerous quickly draws his foot back before driving it forward and slamming it into Magnifico’s vulnerable ribs, smiling gleefully as he does so. ELM cries out in pain and falls back to the floor as the nearby fans angrily boo and curse Johnny. Not deterred in the slightest by their reaction, Dangerous grabs Magnifico by the arm and painfully jerks him to his feet, right before using his grip to whip the luchadore across the floor and towards the far guardrail! ELM crashes back-first into the rail, causing him to cry out and arch his back in pain as Johnny breaks into a full-on sprint towards the luchadore! As Dangerous approaches, however, Magnifico bends over and grabs him by the leg, before suddenly standing up, hoisting Johnny into the air in the process! Dangerous tumbles over the guardrail and into the first couple rows of folding chairs, crashing into the set-up steel a half-second after the fans that occupied them scramble out of the way. The chairs collapse under Johnny’s weight, leaving him to fall to the floor amidst a pile of chairs while the fans around him cheer happily.

 

“Well, I’d say that’s a pretty good start.” King comments. “Johnny got in a few good shots at Mag’s ribs and back, but then got overconfident and paid for it.”

 

“Can’t argue with that.” Pete admits. “Magnifico’s Backdrop over the guardrail and into the audience turned the momentum back in his direction just in time; Johnny had been in complete control of the match since reversing the Rio Grande Slam.”

 

ELM takes a moment to catch his breath and to shake off the pain shooting through his ribs and back before climbing over the guardrail and going after Johnny. Dangerous is still lying motionless and face-down on the outside. Magnifico observes him for a moment before grabbing one of the uncollapsed and unoccupied chairs, which he threads Johnny’s damaged arm through up to the shoulder. As the fans that surround him on all sides boo in anticipation, Magnifico grabs another chair, draws it high above his head...and then drives it downwards, slamming it into the chair surrounding Johnny’s shoulder!

 

*CLAAAAAAAAANG*

 

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

Dangerous cries out in agony as his shoulder is bashed in, doing so as boos pour in from every part of the parking lot. Grinning to himself, Magnifico draws the chair above his head once more and...

 

*CLAAAAAAAAAANG*

 

Dangerous’ cries are reduced to mere whimpers as ELM drops his chair unceremoniously onto the floor, leaving it to clatter helplessly as the luchadore pulls the other chair off of Johnny’s arm and tosses it aside.

 

“Yeesh!” LDP winces. “Magnifico was just slogging away at Johnny’s shoulder with that chair! Johnny’s arm is going to be completely useless soon if ELM keeps this up!”

 

“With any luck!” King gleefully adds. “Magnifico’s work on Johnny’s shoulder has been masterful, reducing the connecting appendage to nothing more than a heap of gooey tendons and sinew.”

 

“Ewww.” Pete remarks.

 

ELM grabs Johnny by his damaged arm and jerks him to his feet, before using his grip to whip Dangerous towards the nearby guardrail. But as Johnny approaches the rail, he leaps into the air and flips forward, bounding effortlessly over the rail and landing on his feet on the other side! Dangerous turns around, expecting to see Magnifico starting at him agape in wonder. Unfortunately for him, what ELM is doing when Johnny turns around is flying over the guardrail, his arm extended for a Flying Lariat! Caught off guard, Dangerous has no time to dudge as Magnifico slams his arm into Johnny’s chest and knocks him to the ground with the Flying Lariat! ELM tumbles to the floor but quickly pops back to his feet, doing as the reaction of impressed cheers and stubborn boos pours in from the live audience.

 

“There’s that overconfidence again.” King smugly states. “Sure, he had a nice little hand-free flip over that guradrail, but it doesn’t do him any good if he just stands there afterwards and eats a Flying Clothesline.”

 

After getting back to his feet, Magnifico quickly climbs up onto the nearby apron and looks down on Johnny, who is lying motionless and face-up on the floor. ELM takes a second to figure out his trajectory and whatnot before hopping off of the apron, stomping both of his feet on Johnny’s shoulder as he falls! Dangerous clutches his shoulder and shouts out in a combination of anger and agony as he rolls away from the luchadore, not wanting to have anything more to do with him at the moment. Magnifico’s not so easily deterred, though, as he grabs the rolling Secret Agent by the hair and arm and pulls him to his feet, right before rolling Johnny beneath the bottom rope and into the ring. ELM rolls right in after him and makes the cover, hooking the leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting.

 

ONE...

 

TWO...No! Johnny gets a shoulder up at two and a half, actually drawing a few encouraging cheers from the audience by doing so. Magnifico quickly rolls off of Dangerous and grabs him by his damaged arm, using his grip to painfully pull Johnny to his feet. The second Johnny’s on his feet, Magnifico hoists him into the air and places Dangerous on his shoulder. Johnny’s in position for a potential Shoulderbreaker, but before Magnifico can execute it, Dangerous wriggles out of the luchadore’s grasp, landing on his feet behind his opponent! Magnifico quickly spins to face Dangerous, only to receive a stiff kick to the gut from Johnny that causes him to double over in pain! Not wasting a moment, Dangerous swiftly pulls ELM into a Front Face Lock and lifts him into the air, before falling backwards to the mat and driving Magnifico’s back into the canvas with a Vertical Suplex! Johnny rests for a half-second before twirling his hips and beginning the trek back to his feet, still holding Magnifico in the Front Face Lock!

 

“Johnny’s begun his trademark Rolling Vertical Suplex!” Pete reports. “This has the potential to keep ELM down for the three count, but the question is, how many Suplexes will Dangerous be able to land with his damaged shoulder?”

 

“I’m amazed he landed the first one.” King scoffs. “My guess is that Johnny’s shoulder will seperate halfway through the second one. Then he’ll cry like a little girl and we’ll all laugh. ‘Course, that’s just a hypothesis.”

 

Johnny is nearly back on his feet with Magnifico only a step behind. Dangerous winces as he rises, but otherwise seems fine when he finally stands. The second he does so, Johnny hoists ELM into the air, scowling in pain and frustration as he does so. He manages to gut through the throbbing ache in his shoulder, though, and lands a second Vertical Suplex to mostly the displeasure of the live audience. Magnifico’s damaged ribs and back ache with excruciating pain, but there really isn’t anything the luchadore can do about it at the moment. A few impressed cheers eek through, though, and they only grow louder when Dangerous, after a second’s rest, pops his hips and begins the trek to his feet once more! The trip is harder this time, with ELM less responsive than before and his shoulder under more stress, but he still manages to get to his feet after a bit of a struggle.However, when he tries to lift Magnifico for a third time, the pain in his shoulder just gets to be too much, shooting through his entire body as ELM flounders in mid-air! Magnifico’s feet hit the ground, and when that happens, Johnny grits his teeth and attempts to lift the luchadore once more, determined to land the third and final Vertical Suplex! Amazingly enough, he manages to get Magnifico into the air...only to have the luchadore twist out of his grasp and land on his feet behind Johnny, facing the same direction as him! With the ropes right behind him, ELM quickly traps Johnny in a Rear Waistlock and lifts him into the air as if for a German Suplex! But instead of driving him into the mat, Magnifico just throws Johnny over his head and over the top rope, leaving him to tumble helplessly to the outside! Dangerous crashes shoulder first onto the floor, his cry of pain drowned out by the impressive “OHHHHHH!” that rises from the crowd!

 

“See, what’d I tell ya?” King gloats. “Sure, I was one Suplex off, but the rest of it was right.”

 

“Johnny’s shoulder holds up throughout the Rolling Verticals,” Pete begins, pointedly ignoring King, “But there was a bit of hesistation in the third one, which allowed Magnifico to reverse it into a Release German Suplex to the outside!”

 

“And if that wasn’t enough, he landed right on his shoulder when he hit the floor!” King cheerfully points out. “Whatever bone it is that’s in there has gotta be in a dozen pieces by now.”

 

After landing the Release German Suplex, Magnifico falls back against the ropes, breathing deeply with his hands on his throbbing ribs. After a second, he seems to shake off the pain and hits the mat, rolling to the outside where Johnny is lying on the floor, holding his shoulder and writing in pain. ELM seems generally unsympathetic to his plight, as he begins stomping away at Johnny’s vulnerable shoulder the second he’s on the outside. The fans just beyond the nearby guardrail shout things that would make a Dutch prostitute blush, but Magnifico seems to deaf to it all as he kicks away at Johnny’s shoulder, smiling joyfully as he does so. After a dozen or so stomps, ELM abruptly stops and grabs Johnny by his damaged arm, using the grip to jerk him to his feet. Once he’s standing, Magnifico maintains his grip on Johnny’s arm while grabbing him by the tights. He then leads Dangerous over to a guardrail that defends a gap between the endless row of chairs and throws him right over it, leaving Johnny to fall unceremoniously on the aisle’s unforgiving concrete! His body racked with pain, Dangerous just lays there, surrounded by the fans that would usually be taunting him but are too busy booing the hell out of Magnifico. ELM responds by arguing fiercely with the most boorish of his detractors, doing so as he climbs over the audience and into the aisle he just threw Dangerous into. After a few seconds of bickering mindlessly with the drunken, curse-spewing Ohioan, Magnifico simply rears back and clocks the fellow in the face! He falls like a brick and ELM grabs his now-unoccupied chair, which doesn’t endear him to the nearby fans in the slightest.

 

“God bless El Luchadore Magnifico!” King cries. “Wallop another one, Mags!”

 

“Are you insane?!” Pete snaps. “We’re trying to gain new fans, not beat up the ones we already have!”

 

“Can’t we do both?” King honestly questions.

 

As Pete smacks King upside the head, Magnifico turns his attention back to Johnny, who’s begun struggling to his feet a few feet away from the luchadore while he was conversing with that fan. Seeing this, ELM decides to wait for Johnny to get to his feet before continuing his attack. As Dangerous rises, Magnifico crouches and holds his chair in both hands, ready at a moment’s notice to break into a sprint and crack Johnny right over the head with the steel furniture. He doesn’t have to wait very long as Dangerous, despite having a practically dead arm, manages to get to his feet after a few seconds, facing away from the luchadore as he stands. Upon seeing this, Magnifico grins to himself and breaks into a run, drawing his chair above his head as he approaches the Secret Agent! Dangerous spins around to see ELM close in on him and drive the chair downwards, aiming it right at Johnny’s forehead! But right before impact, Johnny manages to duck down, missing the chair shot by mere millimeters! Dangerous then grabs Magnifico by the leg with his good arm and uses the luchadore’s own momentum against him, pulling him onto his shoulders as if for a Fireman’s Carry ! Dangerous loosely grabs Magnifico’s head with his other arm and then immediately flips forward, slamming ELM’s damaged back into the rock-hard concrete with the Spinal Explosion! The response is surprisingly mainly cheers as Magnifico arches his back, which explodes in pain from the impact of the Rolling Fireman’s Carry on the concrete. Dangerous immediately floats onto the luchadore after making the cover, causing the ref to fall to his knees and slap the concrete just hard enough to avoid getting hurt.

 

ONE...

 

TWO...

 

THRRRRRRRRNOOOOOOO!! ELM gets a shoulder up just before the three count, drawing a booming if mixed reaction from the live audience.

 

“Fantastic counter from Johnny, as he avoids the chair shot and lands a Spinal Explosion on the floor!” Pete excitedly reports. “An amazing move that only further damages Magnifico’s already injured back!”

 

“Damnit.” King grmbles. “I wish Magnifico would quit fooling around and just end this match. If he’s not careful, Johnny’ll land a lucky finisher and steal the contendership.”

 

Scowling in a combination of anger and suffering, Johnny rolls off of the luchadore and begins pushing himself to his feet. He’s severely slowed down by his bum arm, but still manages to stand while Magnifico remains motionless on the floor below him. The fans that surround him boo and jeer Johnny despite him being basically crippled, and do so as he reaches the nearby guardrail and slowly climbs up onto it. Careful to keep his balance, Johnny stands up on the guardrail, quieting the nearby fans who are now just wondering what the hell he’s up to. He gives them their answer when Dangerous leaps and flips off of the guardrail, shooting his feet downwards after the flip and aiming them at Magnifico’s chest for the Death From Above! However, ELM manages to roll out of the way right before impact, leaving Johnny to just land feet-first on the floor! Annoyed, Johnny strides over to Magnifico, not really paying attention to the thing ELM rolled on and is now cradling against his body. Dangerous quickly jerks the luchadore to his feet, but the second Magnifico is standing, he suddenly spins around and clocks Johnny in the face with the steel chair he just picked up! Cursing loudly in pain and frustration, Dangerous stumbles away from the luchadore, eventually falling into the guardrail with his hand on his head. After a second, Johnny looks up, doing so just in time to see ELM bringing down the steel chair with untold force! Magnifico makes perfect contact with the fatal furniture, slamming it right over the top of Johnny’s skull!

 

*CRACK*

 

“OHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head and he slides off of the rail, doing so while Magnifico, a wide grin on his face, tosses aside the steel chair. Dangerous falls to the floor and is almost immediately covered by the luchadore, who wearily hooks Johnny’s leg as the ref falls to his knees and begins counting.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRRRRRNNNOOOOOO!! Johnny gets a shoulder up mere milliseconds before the three count, drawing a mixed but mostly negative reaction from the live audience.

 

“No!” Pete shouts. “Magnifico just levels Johnny with that steel chair, but it’s not enough to keep him down! Dangerous is just as determined as the luchadore, if not more so, to win this contest!”

 

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” King dismissively replies. “But in praising Johnny’s toughness or whatever, let’s not forget that it was a terribly botched Death From Above that led him to eat that chair in the first place.”

 

“He missed it and landed on his feet. How is that botching it?” Pete questions, annoyed.

 

“’Cause it led to him getting blasted with a steel chair.” King replies matter-of-factly.

 

ELM slowly rolls off of Johnny, mumbling a string of Spanish curses as he does so. He slowly, painfully pushes himself to his feet, doing so as Dangerous lays motionless beneath him. He looks around for a second, still cursing under his breath, before locking eyes on the chair he so callously tossed aside a moment ago. A hand on his ribs, the luchadore heads over to the chair before picking and setting it up in the middle of the aisle. Satisfied, Magnifico heads over to Johnny, who’s begun to stir but isn’t doing much else. He grabs Dangerous by his damaged arm and slowly pulls him to his feet, receiving no help from the stunned Secret Agent. Eventually though, he gets Johnny to his feet and leads him to a spot right in front of the steel chair. Once there, Magnifico grabs Dangerous and hoists him into the air as if for a Scoop Slam! The fans know what’s really happening, though, and are booing in anticipation the second Johnny leaves his feet. ELM begins to spin Dangerous around in mid-air, and that’s the exact moment that Johnny wriggles out of his grip! Dangerous lands on his feet behind the luchadore and immediately hooks his arms beneath Magnifico’s! Johnny then locks his hands behind the luchadore’s neck, swiftly completing the setup for the Dangerous Driver! Johnny lifts Magnifico into the air, crying out in pain as he does so...but can’t keep the luchadore airborne! Before Dangerous can lift ELM as high as he wanted, the pain in his shoulder overtakes him, forcing Johnny to put the luchadore back on his feet!

 

“Whoo!” King jubilantly cries. “Isn’t it beautiful to see a plan come to fruition?”

 

“I’m sure that’s exactly what ELM had planned.” Pete replies, rolling his eyes. “In any case, Johnny managed to escape La Dia de Los Muertos, but wasn’t able to complete the reversal into the Dangerous Driver thanks to his severely damaged shoulder!”

 

The second Magnifico is back on his feet, he throws his leg backwards and drives it into Johnny’s groin! The male contingent of the audience winces as Johnny releases his grip and falls to one knee, suddenly realizing that there is a pain worse than the one that currently plagues his shoulder. ELM spins around to face Dangerous and quickly grabs him once more. Magnifico strenously lifts Johnny, spins around, and then drives Dangerous downward, is face aimed directly at the set up steel chair! ELM drives Johnny’s head directly into the seat of the chair, which collapses upon impact and does little to cushion Dangerous’ head-first descent to the concrete!

 

“OHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

 

Completely lifeless, Johnny tumbles to the floor, his skull having been cracked upon from the La Dia de Los Muertos through a chair and onto the concrete.

 

“Good...lord!” Pete finally gets out, impressed and horrified at the same time. “After escaping the Dangerous Driver, Magnifico makes another and successful attempt at La Dia de Los Muertos!”

 

“And what’s more, it was through a chair and onto the concrete!” King giddily adds. “Now that’s how you win a match! Make sure the paramedics are there to rush in after the three count.”

 

ELM rests a moment after landing the Fire Thunder Driver, his entire body aching and his lungs burning from a lack of oxygen. Despite all this, Magnifico manages to crawl over to Johnny, who lies flat on his back, dead to the world. Discouraged by the fans that beset him on all sides, Magnifico throws his body onto Johnny’s, finally making the cover. The ref falls to his knees and begins the count as ELM lays motionless on Dangerous, looking just as weak and helpless as his opponent.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

 

DING DING DING

 

“Your winner, and the NEW, Number One Conteder to the World Heavyweight Title...” Funyon promptly announces. “EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOOORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOO!!”

 

It’s finally over. Magnifico and Johnny beat the living hell out of each other simply to do it to someone else at Genesis VI. ELM probably has a couple cracked ribs, and Johnny will be lucky if his injuries are limited to a concussion. And they’d do it again in a heartbeat.

 

After garnering the pinfall, Magnifico rolls off of Johnny and begins struggling to his feet, helped along by the referee. As he stands, the ref thrusts ELM’s hand into the air, doing so to the great displeasure of the live audience. They don’t get any happier when Magnifico lifts his other hand into the air and cries out in exultation, absolutely overjoyed at having won the match. His body-wracking laughs are angrily, almost defiantly drowned out by the fans that surround him.

 

“Though I’m sure as hell not happy with how he did it,” Pete grudgingly begins, “Magnifico is your new Number One Contender and will get a shot at Danny Williams at Genesis VI!”

 

“Not happy? Why?” King questions, concerned. “All he did was smash Johnny’s testicles before dropping him head-first on concrete with sickening force.”

 

Pete stares at him.

 

“Oh. Right.” King finally says.

 

LDP sighs. “This has been a fantastic match to cap off a fantastic edition of Storm. We have our main event for Genesis VI, ladies and gentlemen! Good night! See you on Smarkdown!”

 

The final image broadcasted is El Luchadore Magnifico, laughing hysterically as thousands around him look on with unbridled scorn...