SWF SMARKDOWN, SEPTEMBER 12!

[Ace309 0]

Earlier today…

 

“Well, Tom,” says road agent Alyson Reischl, “we meet again. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”

 

Flesher smirks. “So, are we weighing in stripped?”

 

“Singlet’s fine,” the cute twentysomething responds, rolling her eyes. “You know the drill – on the scale, you need to make two-thirty for this one. No weight allowance, because this isn’t an exhibition.”

 

“What if I don’t make it?” he asks.

 

“They changed the book after you fought Clark,” she reminds him. “No matches involving heavyweights are conducted under Cruiserweight Rules.”

 

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’ve been working out, but I’m not sure if I’m on tonight.”

 

With that, he steps onto the digital scale. It pings up and down before finally settling on a weight.

 

230.0.

 

“Um… hey, Alyson?”

 

“YES, Tom?” she asks, clearly exasperated.

 

“I’m dehydrated.”

 

“None of this crap tonight.”

 

“No, seriously.”

 

With that, he reaches over and grabs the bottle of water sitting on the table and sprays a stream into his mouth. Guzzling, he drinks as the scale attempts to readjust. After a few seconds, he reaches over and sets the water bottle down, then holds still. He watches the scale pinging once again, until finally, it stops.

 

230.1.

 

“Well, damn,” Flesher says. “Looks like Ceddy’s going over the top tonight, all because I was a little thirsty.”

 

He steps off, then strides happily out of the room.

 

“Ain’t that a shame.”

[Ace309 0]

“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the national anthem.”

 

Funyon steps into the ring, clears his throat and begins to sing.

 

Lately evolution theory

Is hitting home a lot more clearly

As our love slowly dies each day

You say this love ain't worth reviving

There's no chance of us surviving

We're doomed to simply fade away

 

That's what they said about the buffalo

The timber wolf and the eagle too

They made a comeback and I know

So could me and you

Let's get off of love's endangered list

We've got something that this world would miss

I know you're sayin' that there's no hope

That's what they said about the buffalo

 

We put in too many long nights

Working late and chasing the wildlife

Living like two hard headed fools

It's really not too big a mystery

The reason we are almost history

The talk all over town says we are through

 

That's what they said about the buffalo

The timber wolf and the eagle too

They made a comeback and I know

So could me and you

Let's get off of love's endangered list

We've got something that this world would miss

I know you're sayin' that there's no hope

That's what they said about the buffalo

I know you're sayin' that there's no hope

That's what they said about the buffalo

 

The HSBC Arena applauds loudly, patriotically, for Funyon’s rendition of “That’s What They Said About The Buffalo,” as the opening montage fades in.

[Ace309 0]

All fifty-seven loyal SWF viewers are reacquainted with SWF Smarkdown after a short commercial break. Backstage, a long-haired, thick-bearded stud of supreme male masculinity, Manson, stands alongside Ben Hardy just before his upcoming match. His widened eyes dart around, as Hardy holds up a microphone.

 

"Fans, I'm here with Manson, who is just moments away from his singles match with Landon Maddix. But I must say, Manson, don't you think you're… somewhat out of your league, given your current…"

 

"What, you don't think I can beat Landon?!" Manson asks, as his head snaps back toward Hardy.

 

"Well, no, that's not what I'm saying… I'm sure you could beat him, but it just seems you're not having the best run of late."

 

"I know what you're getting at, Ben, and it sure sounds like you're saying I can't beat him!"

 

"L-Listen, Manson, I didn't mean anything by it…" Hardy stammers, as he looks away.

 

"The hell you didn't, but rest assured, I can beat that bastard. You just watch! I can beat him! I can beat anyone here!!"

 

"Alright, alright, let's not get hasty…"

 

"You know, you and everyone here are really trying my patience. Your stupid f*cking questions, Flesher sending Arch home, he's trying to keep us away from what's ours! Then, Ground Zero!"

 

"Ground Zero?"

 

"Goddamn Hawke, I had that match won and was screwed! You know it! Everyone knows it! Then against ELM, and then Crimson Skull, I was screwed again! I keep getting the short end, and let me tell you, Ben Hardy, it won't happen again so long as I can help it! All these sons of bitches are dead starting with Maddix tonight!"

 

"I really don't think…"

 

"So you're against me?"

 

"Not quite, but…"

 

"Ben Hardy, from here on out there are two types of people here. Those with me, and those against me, and right now it looks like you're against me!"

 

"Now listen…" Hardy mutters, as Manson makes a move toward him with his fist, only for Manson to pull back.

 

"You're not even worth it," he says as he turns back toward the camera before walking away, "but on the other hand, Maddix... you are."

[Ace309 0]

“And we’re back,” says Suicide King, opening up a bag of popcorn and setting a 64-ounce Big Gulp on the table in front of him. “We’ve got a hell of a show lined up, but we’re opening it up with a match that I for one am very excited to see.”

 

“That’s right, folks,” adds his broadcast partner, Longdogger Pete. “Tonight, one of the best in the bid’ness makes his return to the ring to show Spike Jenkins just what he’s going to do to him at Genesis.”

 

“Oh, man, Pete… I’m really excited,” says King. “I brought the extra-comfortable chairs out so I can just relax and watch Tom Flesher work his magic.”

 

Pete rolls his eyes.

 

“Seriously, ’Dogger,” he says, “I might not even call this one.”

 

“That’d be merciful,” Pete says with a hint of frustration. “Let’s go to the ring.”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Funyon, “the following contest is scheduled for one fall, but will NOT, as advertised, be conducted under Cruiserweight Rules due to the failure of one of the competitors to make weight.”

 

The crowd cheers, until …

 

"Night of Fire!"

 

The lights go out as the beat of the Niko composed theme begins to excite the crowd. Then....

 

"FIRE!"

 

*BOOM!*

 

Pillars of flames briefly light up the entrance before disappearing and revealing Ced Ordonez standing on the stage. He fires up the crowd as best as he can before jogging towards the ring, but the fans just won’t buy into his usual act. Put off, he slides in and promptly makes his way to the far turnbuckle, giving the crowd an obligatory face pose. He hops down and gets in some quick leg stretches before the bell. The Buffalo crowd continues their less-than-warm greeting as the SWF’s favorite referee loosens up.

 

“Currently in the ring, from Sacramento, California, and weighing in at 209 pounds… the Bemani Cross Wizard, CED ORDONEZ!!!!!”

 

Ordonez once again looks to the crowd, which reacts only lukewarmly. He shrugs as the lights go out once more, leading to a few seconds of silence… until…

 

When I was back there in seminary school….

 

The hometown crowd bursts into cheers as Jim Morrison’s voice heralds the arrival of the Smarkdown Commissioner, two-time SWF World Heavyweight Champion, the only man to hold both the Light Heavyweight and SWF World Cruiserweight Championships, the award-winning Tom Flesher!

 

There was a person there who put forth the proposition

That you can petition the Lord with prayer!

 

Petition the Lord with prayer!

 

Petition the Lord… with PRAYER?!

 

YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER!

 

With that, Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” begins with a blast, and the trademark blue pyro sets the HSBC Arena ablaze! As the smoke clears, the familiar stocky figure of Tom Flesher stands on the stage. His usual blue warm-up suit is in perfect condition; his well-worn Doc Marten combat boots are shined to perfection; and as always, he strides confidently, as if he knows that everyone in the building is here to see him and him alone.

 

Flashbulbs explode.

 

Fans scream.

 

Tom Flesher is home.

 

He slides into the ring, taking his place in the center of the squared circle. As the music fades, Funyon, to the wild enthusiasm of the crowd, takes an index card out of his breast pocket.

 

“*ahem* The wings at Duff’s,” he says, drawing a cheer with the local favorite for Buffalo wings. “Labatt Blue.” The most popular beer in Buffalo prompts another pop. “‘Wide Right.’ ‘No Goal.’” This time, the fans boo, as Funyon reminds them of two of the worst travesties in Buffalo sports history. “All of these things are and will forever be associated with Buffalo. Tonight, a hero makes his return to the Queen City, en route to Manhattan, where he’ll take out a boy from Long Island….” As always, mention of New York State’s trailing toilet paper draws a round of boos. “… at Genesis VI! You’re here to watch him as he has one last workout, this one televised, before he takes out Spike Jenkins on pay-per-view, so fans, please… show your gratitude for ‘THE SUPERIOR ONE’ TOM FLESHER!!!!!”

 

Pandemonium.

 

Eventually, of course, the fans calm down, even after Flesher removes his warm-up suit and makes his way to the center of the ring. Ordonez is loosened up, and referee Matthew Kivell instructs both athletes on the rules before finally calling for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

“And this one is underway,” says Londogger Pete. “It should be an exciting one.”

 

“Sure it will,” says King, reclining and tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “And I’ve got to tell you, Pete… I’ve been following Flesher since he debuted in the SJL all the way back in March of 2002. In this business, that’s a lifetime, but Tom Flesher has never been in better shape than he is tonight.”

 

Flesher and Ordonez circle around each other for a few moments, with the Superior One spending an extra second perfecting his angle. Ordonez, wary of Flesher’s modus operandi, tries to keep up with him, adjusting the angle of attack and circling out of bad position. Flesher stutter-steps and Ordonez drops back, blocking the low single-leg takedown Flesher is known for… only to have Flesher step in, hook the thigh and breezily scoot behind him!

 

“There’s a point for Flesher,” King says. “Ordonez thought he’d catch him, but Flesher’s always one step ahead.”

 

“Of course,” Pete reminds his colleague, “this isn’t freestyle, and at the end of the day all that matters is who pins who or who taps out to who, not this point bid’ness.”

 

“Still, I like to keep track in case we ever make the long-awaited return to Marquis of Queensbury rules. We could retroactively induct Flesher into that Hall of Fame, too.”

 

Flesher covers Ordonez’s hips and pins each knee down with one shin, holding his opponent down in a standard folkstyle crab ride. Reaching down, he picks Ced’s left shoulder off the mat and quickly throws a half-nelson in before the Bemani Cross Wizard can flatten back out and counter-attack. Flesher grinds his right elbow into Ordonez’s neck and pushes down, exposing his opponent’s back to the mat and looking smirkingly at the referee.

 

“Is that two?” he asks with a grin.

 

“I believe it is,” King answers from the commentary table. “… four… five… and there’s the hold-down point. Flesher’s just taking Ordonez to school tonight.”

 

Flesher nods, satisfied, and releases the freestyle exposure hold. As Ordonez falls back to the mat, Tom scoots back and patiently stands up. Ordonez looks over his shoulder, slightly confused, but quickly spins and comes back to his feet.

 

”Is that one?” asks Pete, rolling his eyes.

 

“Of course not,” King says, disdain dripping from his voice. “They eliminated the escape point this year, you putz.”

 

As Ordonez comes to his feet, Flesher is already attacking, this time diving in earnest for the low single. Ordonez sprawls back as quickly as he can, but Flesher still manages to snag his heel and trip him up. As Ced tries to regain his balance, he manages to shake Flesher off his foot… only to have the former World Heavyweight Champion reach up and grab him in a side headlock! Flesher pivots with the quickness of an NCAA Champion as he executes a picture-perfect side headlock takeover, slamming Ced to his back! He holds Ordonez down, trying to pin his shoulders to the mat and watching Kivell closely to make sure he counts the pin if it occurs.

 

“Come on,” Pete protests. “Is Matty Kivell really in any position to call this one fairly? Flesher’s his boss!”

 

“Surely you’re not insinuating that Tom Flesher would abuse his authority,” King says “That would be unethical, and ethical is one thing he strives to be. He may bend the rules. He may suspend people because they don’t sell tickets. He may stand on your neck until you turn blue and deny it in the next breath. But it’s for the common good, Pete! TOM. FLESHER. IS. ETHICAL.”

 

Even as Tom tries to force Ordonez into a pinning predicament, though, the Golden-state warrior keeps his wits about him. Relying on the agility he’s tried to keep up even in his tenure as a referee, he clips his legs up and snags Flesher in a headscissors grip! Flesher’s eyes turn to dinner plates as he’s pulled back onto his shoulders, and Ordonez keeps the grip as he tries to quickly plan out a strategy.

 

“Ordonez with the textbook counter… maybe Flesher’s not quite as prepared as he could be,” Pete says.

 

With that, though, the Superior One rolls to the side and gets off his back, at the same time hooking Ced’s heel to set up an ankle lock. As Australia collectively groans, Ced dives toward the ropes, grabbing the bottom strand and holding on for dear life. Flesher immediately releases the hold and crouches down, his eyes trained on his opponent’s hips.

 

Ced gets up, shaking out his ankle, and turns in toward the center of the mat. In an instant, Flesher lunges at him, slamming into him with a blast double-leg takedown that runs him straight back into the ropes! He backs off and takes a step to the side, waiting for Ordonez to step back to the center, and then hammers his stomach with another blast double! This time, Ced barrels backwards into the corner, where Flesher works up to a standing position and clinches him around the lower part of his ribcage. Ced tries to fight out of the no-win situation, unable to settle on striking or simply wrestling out of the hold. Flesher makes the decision for him, popping him in the face with a quick palm strike! Ced staggers back, slumping into the corner, only to eat another shotei! This time, the stunned grappler falls down onto his ass, where Flesher unleashes a sickening kick to his face. As the camera focuses on Flesher, his expression is one of calm enjoyment.

 

“Look at that,” marvels Suicide King. “Sure, he just got beaten on the mat… once… but this is Tom Flesher’s bread and butter. He knows a counter for every hold, and he can throw them out almost without having to think. He’s a machine, Pete.”

 

“A Ghost Machine?”

 

“He’s not actually a robot. It’s more of a figure of speech.”

 

Flesher looks down at Ordonez, his face still soft with the enjoyment of being back in the ring after so long. With his opponent stunned, Flesher simply lifts one Doc Marten and slams it down across Ced’s neck, choking him with the thick sole of the combat boot. Matthew Kivell steps in, ordering Flesher to break the choke. Flesher simply cocks an eyebrow, showing an expression of confusion… and, just maybe, challenging the official to count.

 

ONE! Kivell starts the count, and Flesher holds up one finger.

 

TWO! Flesher raises another finger, nodding with a facetious look of dawning understanding. Still, the boot stays across Ced’s neck, even as the referee-cum-challenger writhes on the mat.

 

THREE! Flesher nods, a smirk betraying his true intention, as he holds up a third finger. The frustrated official tries to physically shove Flesher off of Ordonez’s neck, but Tom holds tight to the top rope as he continues choking the life out of his adversary.

 

FOUR! Flesher holds up a fourth finger, a full-blown grin on his face. As Kivell starts to raise his hand to complete the count, though, Flesher agreeably steps off of Ordonez, walking demurely to the center of the mat. Kivell drops down to check on Ced, who is obviously in pain.

 

“He okay?” shouts Flesher. “If he can’t go, you’ve gotta stop it, Matty.”

 

“I’ve always admired Flesher’s concern for his opponent’s well-being,” King says. “It’s that sort of camaraderie that keeps this business as close as it’s been.”

 

Flesher waits for Ordonez to get up. Ced stares at Flesher, scowling, but the still-fresh Superior One simply grabs him by the wrist. Effortlessly, he whips his opponent to the ropes. Ced bounds back toward him, and Flesher catches him with another clinch before throwing him straight over his head with a Railgun suplex! The crowd pops for another of Flesher’s signature moves as he rolls through, covering Ordonez for

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

NO! Ced gets a shoulder up, and Flesher quickly allows him to roll out before dropping a knee straight into his ribcage! Ced staggers forward, giving Flesher an opportunity to grab him by the head and send him over the top rope and careening to the floor!

 

“Remember,” says Pete, “this is not a Cruiserweight Rules match. That tactic is perfectly legal.”

 

“Thanks for the info, Drainclogger. I think it’s safe to say that Flesher wouldn’t be doing something outside the rules, considering that he, I don’t know, booked the match.”

 

Ordonez takes a second to get back to his feet as Flesher pauses in the ring. He stands by the apron, watching Ced pull himself to his feet, and quickly does a series of five jumping jacks! The Flesher contingent in the crowd cheers for him, while a more solid segment boos him. The crowd is of no concern to the Commissioner, however, as he sees Ordonez’s head stick up over the apron and nonchalantly boots him in the face.

 

Flesher grabs the middle rope, taking advantage of the last few seconds of peace to position himself. As Ced’s head pokes up again, Flesher swings forward, applying a headscissors grip with his ankles and laying flat on the mat. He quickly rolls to the side, sending Ordonez head over heels and spilling onto his back once more! Flesher rolls away, and Kivell finally begins counting.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

Cognizant of the fact that he has only a ten-count to make it back into the ring, Ordonez pulls himself to his feet using the apron.

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

Flesher lies in wait in the center, watching Ced as he tries to slide into the ring.

 

SIX!

 

SEVEN!

 

Finally, the cruiserweight gets back into the ring. Flesher politely waits for him to get back to his feet. From there, he grabs Ordonez by the torso and pulls him into another clinch before finally hammering him with a headbutt. Ordonez reels, and Flesher takes the chance to grab him in a front facelock. He lifts the stunned Ordonez and holds him upside down for a few seconds, stalling…

 

Stalling….

 

 

 

Stalling……

 

 

 

 

… before finally crashing to the mat with a brainbuster! Ordonez grabs his head in pain, and Tom covers him casually for

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!!

 

 

 

 

THR- NO! Once again, Ced kicks out. He rolls to his stomach as Flesher stays on him, riding him like a collegiate wrestler as he slides down his body to lock his hands around Ced’s waist. Ordonez tries to belly down, but Flesher crisply executes a roll to the side and pops his hips, hitting a Greco-Roman gutwrench.

 

“That gator roll was pointless,” Pete says. “There are no exposure points in pro wrestling.”

 

“Au contraire, Pepe,” King bites back. “That gutwrench disoriented Cedric, and now it’s leaving him open for something bigger.”

 

As if on cue, Flesher crouches down into a catcher’s stance and hoists Ced off the mat with his hips. In one fluid motion, he arches back and releases his adversary, throwing him over his head in a flip and sending him crashing to the canvas on his stomach! The Buffalo crowd cheers the athleticism of the move even as Flesher drives a knee into the back of Ced’s neck, silencing his opponent on the mat. Finally, with Ordonez motionless, Flesher reaches around his waist, this time in a reverse lock.

 

“Hoo boy!” cheers King. “Here it comes!”

 

Flesher crouches down again, and once again he lifts Ced’s lifeless body off the mat. He stands up straight, turning Ced upside down and quickly spiking him down onto the canvas! Unable to protect himself, Ordonez hits the mat hard, taking the brunt of the fall on his shoulders and the back of his neck!

 

“EEEEEEGO BUSTER!” screams King, and the partisan crowd cheers along with him. Ordonez stays on the back of his neck, stacked up with his feet on the mat above his head. Still standing, Flesher smirks and casually places a hand on the back of the pathetic-looking Ordonez’s thigh.

 

“Count it,” he says.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

 

Flesher steps away from Ordonez, letting him crumple into a heap on the mat as he starts a golf-clap for himself. The Buffalo crowd joins in, and Funyon makes his announcement.

 

“The winner of this match… ‘The Superior One’ TOM FLESHERRRRRR!!!!!”

 

“Flesher just ate Ced Ordonez alive,” says King. “I’m not sure Spike Jenkins even knows what he’s in for at Genesis.”

 

“In any case,” Pete replies, “Flesher showed that he’s capable of stepping back into the ring in dominating fashion, but what will happen when he steps up to Spike with a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship on the line? Between that and his absolute hatred for Flesher, you have to expect Jenkins to go in blazing.”

 

“Or blazed,” says King fliply. “We’ve got Landon Maddix and Manson, up next!”

[Ace309 0]

Backstage, and Benjamin Hardy is standing by with Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix.

 

Hardy: "Looking around, I guess the first question I should ask is where are Jay Hawke and JJ Johnson?"

 

Maddix: "And my answer would be 'mind your damn business'! They're dealing with their pre-Genesis issues, while I deal with mine. Just because we're allies, doesn't mean we need to spend every moment of every day living out of each others' pockets. Martial Law taught me that, at least. Instead of concerning yourself with Jay and JJ, how about you concern yourself with the man you're interviewing?"

 

Hardy: "...very well. Tonight, you take on Manson here on Smarkdown, your last chance to get physically prepared for Todd Cortez at Genesis VI this Sunday night. With that match in mind, what can we expect from you tonight?"

 

Maddix: "The exact same thing you can expect every night from Landon Maddix."

 

Placing his hands on his hips, Landon sighs to himself.

 

Maddix: "You know, ever since Ground Zero, all I've heard is 'Todd Cortez' this, 'Todd Cortez' that. 'Are you worried about Todd Cortez?' 'What's your strategy gonna be when you face Todd Cortez?' 'Did you hear what Todd Cortez said about you?' 'Have you seen Todd Cortez's new meanstreak?' Let me remind everyone of a few things before we get carried away. Firstly, at Ground Zero, Todd Cortez was dismantled by me. He's lucky he's even able to compete tonight, let alone be involved in the biggest Pay Per View of the year after the beating I gave him. Secondly, I have beaten Todd Cortez before with actual wrestling rules. At Genesis, there'll be no Hardcore Rules. He won't be hitting that -- flippy thing -- onto a car windshield, or using chairs, or tables, or ladders to beat me. And thirdly...this time last year, I was on the single biggest roll of my SWF career. From the middle of September right through to the end of the year, I only lost one match. ONE match. And why was that?"

 

Hardy: "Uhm..."

 

Maddix: "Because when it comes to the bright lights, the big cities, the grandest stages...when Genesis time rolls around, Landon Maddix is at the top of his game. Need I remind you that I pinned Tom Flesher at Genesis V? Need I remind you, I was in the company of SWF legends on that night...and that my performance belonged there! And this year will be no different. Once again, I'm not respected enough to be where I belong...in the main event, challenging for the World Title. But that doesn't matter. Because, once again, I'm going to walk into Genesis. And just like last year, I'm going to steal the spotlight! Am I worried by Todd Cortez? No. Am I going to be doing anything different tonight, to prepare for Todd Cortez? No. I'm going to go out, beat Manson, go on to Genesis, beat Todd Cortez like the dog that he is and then use Genesis as a stepping stone to the rest of 2005, just as I did in 2004."

 

Hardy: "Well, you say that you're not worried by Todd Cortez. But of course, this is far more than just a wrestling match to Todd Cortez. Cortez is going to be defending the honour of Megan Skye."

 

Maddix: "Defending her honour? And I thought Wild and Dangerous' Tag Titles were something not worth defending anymore!"

 

A smile creeps over Maddix's face, as Hardy rolls his eyes at the usual verbal cheapshotting.

 

Maddix: "Need I remind you why I'm facing Cortez in the first place? That bitch HAS no honour! She fooled me into thinking I slept with her, so she could keep her affair with my tag partner and stablemate a secret. Now, that doesn't sound too honourable to me. And yet, if I were to snap Todd Cortez's leg in two and beat her over the head with the bloody end, it'd be ME that'd get criticised! That wouldn't happen though. After all, what kind of gentleman would that make me? *chuckles* No...I wouldn't dream of attacking Megan. No matter how much of a trampy little whore she's been in this issue, I wouldn't dare do anything about it physically. See, I still want her to be able to crawl over on her hands and knees in the middle of that ring, BEGGING me to take her back after I deal with her 'boyfriend'. And I want her to be in 100% physical condition for the wild night of celebration that'll follow. Infact, I'm so confident that the gold digging little bitch'll turn on Toddy Woddy, I've got the hotel room all booked up and ready. The Honeymoon Suite. The champagne will be on ice, Barry White'll be on the stereo and the 'Do Not Disturb' sign will be on the door. She might be a bitch and a whore, but that's okay, because after Genesis, she'll be MY bitch and MY whore!"

 

Maddix walks off, Hardy looks like a tool, you know the deal.

[Ace309 0]

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

 

...WAAAAAHHHHH...

 

*DUM DUM*

 

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

The soft guitar intro to Incubus' "Megalomaniac" hits to a booming reception of boos, the crowd rising to their feet as it builds slowly, slowly, slowly up until the drums kick in and Landon Maddix bursts out through the curtains. Spinning a full 360, Maddix comes to a stop facing the ring and smirks as he looks around, hearing the boos from the New York crowd and soaking them up gladly. The smirk still remains as he then sets off down the aisle, the tails of his leather jacket flapping behind his knees.

 

"Your following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Huron, South Dakota by way of Madrid, Spain...he weighs in at two hundred, twenty two pounds... LANDON... "LA CUCARACHA"... MMMMAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXXXX!!!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

With more typically raucous New Yorkers yelling and howling at him, Maddix leaps to the apron and gives them a grin as if to say 'like I give a crap what you think'. Maddix then vaults in over the top rope, removing his jacket and tossing it at referee Nick Soapdish, who just about catches it before it hits him in the face.

 

Pete: "We're back on Smarkdown and ready for more action, with Landon Maddix doing battle with Manson. And with Genesis right around the corner, this'll be an important test for Maddix. He of course has Todd Cortez in the back of his mind, but can by no means look past a man like Manson."

 

King: "He might not even make it to Genesis, if Manson has his way!"

 

Pete: "Manson, with no pressure on him but also a lot of history to make up for. These two have battled before over the SJL European Title and Manson was involved in TLC, where Martial Law won the Tag Team Titles. They're not complete strangers. And by no means buddies."

 

King: "And think about it this way...if Manson, fingers crossed, can put Maddix out of action tonight, think of what it does to him. He could end up taking Maddix's spot against Cortez if he hurts him badly enough."

 

As King continues to hope for untimely injury to with any luck maim La Cucaracha, the lights all around the arena dim and Mastodon's "Crusher Destroyer" hits. The familiar, multi-colored strobes begin flashing in time with the music as a noticeable buzz can be heard and felt through the HSBC Arena. Maddix watches the free laser show from the ring with arms folded, clearly unimpressed. Even by the MONSTER pop that comes with Manson emerging onto the stage!

 

"And, his opponent! From Denver, Colorado...weighing in at two hundred and fourty five pounds... this... is... MMMMMAAAAAAAANNSSSSSOOOOOOOONN!!!!!"

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Manson strides down the aisle and already, Landon seems a bit more jumpy as he nears the ring. Until eventually, as Manson rolls in underneath the bottom rope, Maddix goes the other way and rolls out to ringside. Manson pops to his feet and growls as he realises where Maddix is, flicking away at his hair as he strolls around in front of the announce position.

 

"MAN - SON!"

"MAN - SON!"

"MAN - SON!"

 

Pete: "Manson looks fired up and Maddix, cautious to say the least."

 

King: "No kidding."

 

As Landon continues to stall for some time on the outside, Manson is ready to go in the ring. The music, the strobes, all have faded out now and with the Raging Bull raging at him, Soapdish leans out of the ring and tells Maddix to hurry up and get in the ring. Maddix completely ignores him though, continuing his stroll.

 

*DINGDINGDING!*

 

So Soapdish calls for the bell, hoping that will get Landon into the ring. That doesn't work though, as Maddix continues to stall.

 

"LAN - DON SUCKS!"

"LAN - DON SUCKS!"

"LAN - DON SUCKS!"

 

The New York crowd, never renowned as a classy bunch, get on Maddix's case as he orders Soapdish to back Manson up and away from his side of the ring. Soapdish obliges and moves Manson back, while Landon climbs cautiously to the apron...and suddenly gets kneed in the gut, as Manson barges past the referee and charges his opponent! The crowd cheer as Maddix is shocked, pulled up by the hair by Manson and brought back into the ring the hard way with a vertical suplex! Quickly Maddix rolls back to his knees, begging off from the Raging Bull. But Manson has none of it, dragging Maddix up to his feet and nailing him with a right hand. And another, rocking Maddix back into the ropes for an irish whip. Reaching the opposite ropes, Maddix manages to hook the top rope and stop his momentum at the last moment, just as Manson prepares to duck his head. For some reason though, he then decides to charge in again anyway and takes a Powerslam for his trouble! Followed straight up with the Snot-Rocket of doom!

 

"YYEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

King: "Ugh!"

 

Pete: "A little insult added to injury with that."

 

With mucus splattered across his face, Maddix is pulled to his feet by Manson and quickly drilled with another knee to the gut. Manson then reels back, measuring the target on Maddix's forehead and slamming a hard right hand right through the middle, knocking Maddix back on his ass and up, over and through to his front. Manson pulls him up straight away, not letting Maddix rest. A whip sends Landon into the ropes, The Next Generation rebounding back into a boot to the gut. Off to the side rushes Manson, to follow that up with a running kneelift that snaps Maddix's head back up, causing him to reel back a few steps. Prompting Manson to hit the ropes once more, rushing in with the high knee attempt...

 

 

...NO! Seeing it coming, Landon sidesteps and brushes Manson past, dropkicking in the spine as he lands at the side. Stumbling forward, Manson falls frontwards into the ropes and bounces back, recieving a second dropkick to the back. This time, Manson sprawls forward, landing throat first across the top rope to boos from the crowd who have seen this all before from Landon.

 

King: "For the record, I hate this move."

 

Pete: "That's hardly ground-breaking news. You hate everything about Maddix."

 

King: "I know. I just feel it worth reminding people sometimes."

 

An over-excited La Cucaracha twirls his finger as if expecting the crowd to go crazy...which, they kinda do, only not in a positive way. Nevertheless, Maddix rushes off the ropes, charging at Manson...and gradually, slowing down into a jog. Confusion fills the air as the crowd, ready to boo Maddix's flashy nature instead have to watch as Maddix slows down, before exiting to the apron and BOOTSCRAPING~! Manson!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Pete: "Oh, come on! The crowd were expecting The 605, but Maddix faked them out and basically flipped them off at the same time."

 

King: "Oh boy, is he going to regret that."

 

Manson claws at his eyes as he retreats off the ropes, while Maddix takes advantage of his opponent's momentary blindless and scales the turnbuckles. Stumbling around, Manson blindly searches for Maddix, who is perched and waiting. Waiting until Manson is finally around far enough, stumbling into range for a crossbody off the top...CAUGHT! The crowd pop as Maddix suddenly finds himself caught in Manson's clutches and unable to escape, despite his best efforts to wriggle free!

 

King: "Told ya!"

 

It's a rather pathetic sight as Maddix flails around like a fish out of water, not doing a whole lot except make himself look like a fool. Manson still has him in his clutches. And still has no problem dropping him into a backbreaker, flinging Maddix's bent body off his knee with destain and making a pin...complete with forearm ground across the bridge of the nose...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

Kickout.

 

Manson grabs a handful of Maddix's precious hair and drags him up by the roots, taking advantage of Maddix's aching ribs by going to the gut with a knee. A second, third and fourth then follow, still hanging onto the hair. Maddix is weakened, allowing Manson to grab him by the wrist and send him off into the ropes. Back shoots Maddix...

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!!"

 

...straight into a stinging knifedge, knocking Maddix clear off his feet with a stinging smack!

 

Pete: "Manson is doing what he does best...beating the hell out of his opponent. And enjoying it!"

 

Pulling himself up, already a red handprint has been left on the chest of The Next Generation, much to the sadistic pleasure of his opponent.

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!!"

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Manson follows up with two more chops, further ripping into Maddix's chest with the edge of his hand. With his opponent reeling, Manson quickly irish whips Maddix towards the corner, but the Next Generation manages to jump to the middle ropes though, and has the presence of mind to look back, as Manson starts charging. Quickly Maddix leaps backwards with a reverse leapfrog, Manson only just able to put the brakes on before hitting the turnbuckles. After a brief pose for the crowd, Maddix again sprints forward, and dives forward looking for a flying forearm. But Manson ducks down, causing Maddix landing across the top turnbuckle gut first!!! Injured, Landon rolls off the top rope, landing on his feet but only just staying up on them.

 

King: "Lo and behold, flippery and floppery screw up Landon Maddix's chances of victory. I'd ask if he'd ever learn, but after two years it hardly seems worth the energy."

 

With his teeth gritted in eagerness, Manson reaches forward and grabs a handful of hair, pulling Maddix away from the turnbuckles before shoving him back forwards. Hitting the buckles sternum first, slowly Landon staggers back, into the grasp of Manson who hooks on a waistlock. In sheer desperation, Landon hits a couple of elbows, and scoots behind with a waistlock of his own. But Manson retaliates in kind, his elbows catching Maddix right across the bridge of the nose and allowing another go behind. And Manson has no problem lifting Maddix up, throwing him over his head with a german suplex and bridging for a pin...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

Slowly Maddix starts to get up, a gritty look of determination on his face. Manson quickly grabs Landon’s arm and irish whips him to the ropes, but upon hitting the ropes Maddix hooks his arms around the top strand and hangs on. In the middle of jumping off the canvas, Manson drops to his feet a little confused, and charges at Maddix. With a raging cry, Manson aims a clothesline at Landon, who ducks…but Manson avoids carrying over to the floor by putting the brakes on. Slowly Maddix turns around, and he’s dropped throat first across the top rope with a vicious Hot Shot, snapping his neck back violently as the ropes spring back against it!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!

 

As Maddix collapses to the canvas, Manson presses down with another gruesome, face-grinding lateral press...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

Manson looks slightly frustrated at not getting the count he wanted as he gets back up, bringing Maddix to his feet. Measuring the stationary Maddix, Manson reels back and slams a forearm into the side of his head. Rocking and reeling, the legs of La Cucaracha only just keep him standing. Unfortunately, that means a second forearm strike. Again Landon wobbles, but he regains his bearings and fires off a forearm of his own. Manson shakes off the shot though, so furious that anyone would dare try to trade strikes with him that he goes for the kill, rolling on his ankles and firing off an elbow...which Maddix ducks! Manson comes to an abrupt stop, with Landon right behind him hooking Manson under the chin and dragging him down across the knees!

 

Pete: "Mount Crushmore..."

 

Rebounding off of the knees of The Next Generation, Maddix is still standing but only just. Which allows Landon to scramble up, reach around the head again and pull Manson down a second time...this time, all the way down to the canvas and into a stacked pinfall...

 

Pete: "...and The So-Dak Moment!"

 

King: "Worst name moves ever!"

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

Pete: "That was a nice combination by Maddix, but he'll need to do that to secure victory over Manson!"

 

Both men are up to their feet and both start trading furious right hands, much to the delight of the bloodthirsty New York crowd, getting behind each connecting punch. Both men manage to get in about 5 punches each before eventually Maddix seems to tire. Manson relentlessly carries on with the fists, until suddenly Maddix nails a right hand to the gut of Manson…followed up by a second, doubling over the Raging Bull a little. This gives Maddix time to get to his feet, and hook on a front facelock, looking for a DDT. Instead of instantly falling back though, Maddix decides to spin around and look for a tornado version…Manson though grabs Maddix’s tights in mid air, and uses the clothing as leverage to throw Maddix over his head with a desperation overhead release northern lights suplex!!!

 

"YYYEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Rebounding off the canvas, Maddix pulls himself to his feet, unchallenged as Manson is now climbing up to the top rope, waiting for Landon to get up. Eventually he does, and Manson leaves his feet…but Landon is waiting...

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

...catching Manson in mid-air with a Maddix-Kick! Jeers fill the arena, as Maddix and Manson are both down, and hurting all of a sudden.

 

Referee Long starts his count, as both men’s shoulders lay flat on the mat…

 

 

"ONE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

Maddix slowly, slowly gets up…Manson however suddenly winning the race to his feet.

 

"FIVE!"

 

Manson is up to his knees, as Maddix is close to doing the same…

 

"SI…"

 

 

Both men get up, and immediately start trading hard knifedge chops!

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!!"

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!!"

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!!"

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Pete: "If I were Landon, I'd cut and run about now."

 

King: "If I were Landon, I'd find myself a double barrel and blow my brains out through the side of my head...but, that's just me."

 

Maddix chickens out first from the human game of chopping dare, backing off from Manson who only seems to be gaining more energy with each lashing. That proves to be a plan though, as he lures Manson into to a sudden boot to the gut, hooking on a front facelock...which then turns into an inverted front facelock. Throwing an arm out to the side, Maddix then tries to take Manson on a ride on the Landon Eye. But as he whips his arm across, Manson manages to twist out of the headlock and armdrag Maddix over! Rolling through with his momentum, Landon comes back to his feet. And after gaining his bearings, he charges in. Manson ducks his head underneath a forearm however, catching Maddix under the jaw and lifting him for a Uranage Suplex...which Maddix quickly elbows out of! The elbows continue flying, until Manson is staggered enough to take a mule kick to the gut. Back stumbles the winded Manson, ending up with his back to the corner. Quickly, Maddix slams another forearm at Manson before climbing the turnbuckles behind The Raging Bull, up to the second rope.

 

Pete: "Could it be a Crash Landon?"

 

"No" is the answer, as Manson recovers and turns with his Rolling Elbow catching Maddix across the gut! With the breath knocked out of him, Landon does well not to fall off the turnbuckles. But he does slump forward, enough for Manson to hook his head and lift him off the buckles onto his shoulders.

 

King: "Uh-oh, is this what I think it is."

 

Pete: "It looks like a Muscle Buster! Manson's going to end this swiftly and abruptly!"

 

With Maddix hooked, Manson slowly backs away from the buckles...

 

 

 

 

...but Maddix suddenly kicks himself out of Manson's grip and levers himself down in front of his opponent. With his levering comes a front facelock, which Landon uses to subdue Manson for a moment before backpedalling, using Manson's head as a battering ram on the middle turnbuckle!! Dazed, Manson stumbles backwards and tries to shake out the cobwebs. As meanwhile, Maddix hops to the middle rope in front of Manson, hooking him around and under the head. Manson knows what's coming, sure. But before he gets chance to counter...

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

...it's already too late!

 

Pete: "A Crash Landon! He hasn't busted that out in a while, although not for the lack of trying, but he got it this time...but, wait a minute, what's this...he's not going for the pin!"

 

King: "No, he's sending a message instead."

 

Indeed, instead of going for the pin, Maddix rolls over onto the back of the facedown Manson and hooks his head back into the Land Of Nod. Manson is already out from the Crash Landon. So the drops of the arm are academic.

 

 

One.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

 

Two.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

 

 

THREE!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

*DINGDINGDING!*

 

The crowd groan as Maddix, face contorted into something resembling intense fury, tosses Manson's head down and stares a hole through the back of his head. Manson is out cold from the combination of finishers and can do nothing, as Maddix stands up, mockingly placing a foot on Manson's back as he raises his arms triumphantly.

 

"Your winner of this contest...LANDON... "LA CUCARACHA"... MMAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXX!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

King: "Well, that sucked."

 

Pete: "KING!"

 

King: "Well, it did."

 

Pete: "Ignore my partner folks...he gets a little tetchy around Landon Maddix this time of year. *cough*GenesisV*cough*"

 

As King grumbles away, Maddix continues his pose...making one thing clear over all.

 

 

This is a preview.

 

 

See you at Genesis, Todd.

[Ace309 0]

Welcome back to Smarkdown” King says as they return from a commercial break that only lasted 2 minutes but felt like 20. “Man I’m excited about the next match King” Pete says… with excitement. “We’ve got two really big men clashing in the ring”

 

The lights dim as Pete is about to launch into a “Hoss” comment, fortunately the heartfelt rendition of NOTHING plays over the P.A. system as Matthew Walters steps through the curtains to cut off Pete before he goes all “JR” on everyone

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

“These fans make me sick” King says as the crowd boos the smaller of the two brothers. “Booing a man because of his religious beliefs”

 

The boos turn to a mixed booing and cheering as Devon Walters steps through the curtains. The giant of a man has attracted some fans in his stay in SWF – big men are still very popular.

 

“I’m not sure it’s because he’s a Hindu but because Matthew is a two faced bastard” Pete replies, defending the fans. “Nonsense” is all that King says to dismiss the allegation.

 

Matthew leads his huge brother towards the ring, slowly they walk both looking cool, calm and collected as the head towards the ring.

 

“Tonight Devon faces a man that’s finally close to his side” Pete says, desperate for something to cover the fact that there is no music playing. “Yeah but only CLOSE Drain Clogger, no one is quite Devon’s size” King replies as he taps his fingers on the announce table waiting for something, anything to happen.

 

“Devon hasn’t fared that well against small guys like Landon Maddix or Jay Hawke, maybe he can regain his momentum against a big bruiser like Bruce Blank” Pete says as Devon Walters finally walks up the ring steps and then steps over the top rope. He removes his robe and hands it to a stage hand, then he just stands there and awaits his opponent while the introduction is made

 

Funyon: “Introducing on my (checks to see where Devon is) right! The Humongous Hindu himself”

 

On the floor Matthew Williams rolls his eyes at the crappy pun from Funyon.

 

Funyon: Accompanied by his brother Matthew Walters (BOOO!!) the 7 foot 3 inch 335 pound sensation DEVOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON WALTEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRSSS!

 

A vocal minority either cheers or boos for Devon while most remain on the fence about the big man, although he is already getting a more positive than negative response tonight, mainly caused by who he is booked against for the show.

 

Funyon: And his opponent…

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

” Well it’s true I love the money and I love my brand new car

I like drinkin’ the best of whiskey and playing in a honky tonk bar

But when I come off the road, well I just got to have my time

’cause I got to find a break in this action, else I’m gonna lose my mind”

 

As “Don’t ask me no questions” kicks in Bruce Blank walks out to a hail of boos, the Hardcore Gamer’s title wrapped around his quite ample waist, his right fist raised in the air and a microphone in his left hand.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“Oh lord we got to listen to that dork? Just shut up and wrestle Bruce” Pete says really annoyed that HE has to shut up.

 

“Alright, cut the music I got sumtin’ to say” Bruce says with a smirk as he walks to the ring. It must be really important if he interrupts his beloved Lynyrd Skynyrd. “Now I ain’t one to look down at people being thrown in jail donthcano” Bruce begins

 

“Dontchano? What language is he speaking” King asks as Bruce reveals his DEEP south roots.

 

The fans boo Bruce as he gets up on the apron, still with the microphone in one hand and his other hand shut tight in a clenched fist. “But what I wannakno is who played the gal when you guys were in jail??”

 

“Now why would he say a thing like that? He’s just pissing off Devon Walters” King says in confusion. “Rule one is DON’T PISS OFF DEVON!” King follows up to explain why he’s so confused by Bruce’s comments.

 

Matthew is livid over the allegations from Bruce, he rushes towards him but the referee jumps in his path to prevent any “extracurricular” activities from happening. As the referee jumps from the ring to the floor Bruce spins around and throws a fist full of a white powdery substance into the eyes of the charging Devon Walters.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“SALT TO THE EYES!! King yells in surprise “that’s not right, salt is reserved for those with an oriental gimmick, hasn’t he read the “Stereotypes of Wrestling for Dummies”?? Pete says, angry that Bruce broke an unspoken rule.

 

Bruce just smirks as he enters the ring where Devon Walters is blinded and staggering around trying to get his hands on Bruce. Bruce doesn’t even bother with taking off his Hardcore title as he clotheslines the huge Devon into the corner. Then he grabs the middle ropes on either side of the big man and starts to drive his shoulder into the midsection… the LOWER mid section of Walters repeatedly.

 

“That’s one way to take the advantage away from a giant!! No blind wrestler ever won a match” King says as he’s starting to get impressed with Bruce’s cheating ways.

 

BRUCE SUCKS!! BRUCE SUCKS!! BRUCE SUCKS!!

 

Devon reaches out and manages to put his hand on Bruce, he tries to go for a knee to the gut but instead ends up ramming his knee into the Hardcore title still around Bruce’s waist. The Hardcore champ is quick to follow up as he clips the big man’s other leg and knocks him to the ground. Bruce runs at the ropes, bounces off and lands a big splash on the prone body of Devon Walters making skin on metal contact with the belt.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“Would someone get the belt away from Bruce? What the hell kind of referee allows this” Pete says indignant. “He’s the champion, he’s just wearing his belt – not his fault it got in the way” King points out.

 

Referee Izzy Slapowitch gets in between Bruce and Devon before Bruce can use the belt once more and DEMANDS that Bruce hands over the title. Bruce just looks at the smaller referee, then shrugs his shoulders and takes off the strap.

 

“Yeah bout time you earned your keep Izzy” Pete says

 

As the referee goes to put the belt out of the ring Bruce pulls a small chain from his jeans pocket, wraps it around his hand and then starts to wail away on the still blinded Devon Walters. When the referee returns Bruce quickly slides the chain off his fist and into his pocket, whistling like he was as innocent as a little baby as the crowd tries to point out what happened.

 

“Salt, chain… man it’s like the Freebirds and Von Erichs in the ring” King says “And I mean that in the best way possible” he follows up.

 

Bruce pulls the big man to his feet by the hair. Then he locks in a front headlock and grabs Devon’s trunks with the other hand.

 

“He can’t suplex him” Pete says in disbelief at what Bruce is trying to do.

 

But Bruce demonstrates his awesome power by managing to lift the 335 pound monster and drop him to the canvas with the suplex

 

*BAM!!*

 

“Man listen to that impact” King says impressed “I gotta admit it, I think he’s the first man to actually throw Devon Walters around like that, Bruce is PURE POWER” Pete says, still in shock over the sight of the big man being suplexed.

 

Bruce gets back on his feet, it’s obvious that the move took quite a bit out of him as Devon is a heffer and a half to move, but he keeps up the assault by landing a series of kicks to Devon’s head. With his back turned to the referee he quickly slips the chain out of his pocket once more and wraps it around his fist

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“Man the crowd really loathe Bruce’s cheating ways” Pete says as he watches Bruce drive the fist and the chain into the forehead of Devon Walters. “Oh come on, what’s a little chain action between friends?” King points out, ignoring the fact that Bruce and Devon are not exactly friends.

 

The referee suspects that something is up and asks to see Bruce’s fists. The big redneck quickly conceals the chain by putting it in his arm pit and squeezing his arm tight against his body. After hiding the chain he’s more than happy to show his fists to the referee. Then the referee pads Bruce down, checking his pockets, boots and what have you.

 

“What is that cheating bastard doing” King asks “hiding the chain?” Pete replies a little confused. “No that rat Matthews, he’s pouring water on his brother’s face? Stay out of this Matthew!!” King screams from his position at ringside.

 

Behind Bruce’s back Matthew has made the best of the momentary break in the action, grabbed a bottle of water from a fan at ringside and dumped it all over Devon’s face to wash the salt out. When Bruce turns around he doesn’t seem to notice the wet spot on the canvas but instead goes right back on the attack with a stomp to the face of Devon Walters

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

 

“DEVON BLOCKED IT!” Pete exclaims as the giant puts his hands up to block the stomp, apparently he’s regained enough eyesight to catch the boot.

 

“Oh oh I think the monster has been awoken” King says as Bruce backs off from the much bigger man. “That’s a mistake by Bruce, he shouldn’t allow him to get back on his feet” Pete quite rightly points out.

 

Bruce runs towards the ropes trying to get momentum from them, but as he hits the ropes Matthew Walters reaches up and pulls the top rope down. Bruce’s weight and momentum quickly carries him over the top rope and sends him to the floor ass over elbow.

 

*THUD!*

 

“Did you hear that? That may have been his skull smacking the ground Pete”

 

Matthew backs off, the referee is watching him and he doesn’t want to cost his brother the match. Besides Devon has managed to get most of the salt out of his eyes although he’s still blinking a bit when he tries to focus, but he’s able to see enough to step over the top rope and down on the floor. He pulls the groggy Bruce to his feet by the hair, then looks at his brother who’s shouting instructions

 

Matthew: PRESS HIM!!

 

“No way he can do that, Bruce is 295 pounds after all” Pete says “Did you not learn your lesson before? Never say never in wrestling”

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

 

And indeed Devon Walters manages to pick up Bruce, although he’s not able to push him up over his head to extend his arms fully, but he does manage to toss Bruce into the ring over the middle rope. Then he steps up on the apron and over the top rope back inside the ring as Matthew Walters encourages him to keep on attacking.

 

“Bruce is in deep trouble, he’s finally in the ring with a guy even more physically imposing than himself and the giant is in control” Pete says with poorly hidden excitement.

 

Devon measures Bruce, just waiting patiently as the big man staggers back to his feet and then turns around to face him, the second Bruce is in position Devon bounces off the ropes, runs right for him and

 

*WHAM!!!*

 

His massive right arm makes such an impact on Bruce’s chest and neck that the big man goes down like he was a 120 weakling from Devon’s Nirvana. The crowd is on their feet, cheering, hooting and a hollerin’ as Bruce finally gets a taste of his own medicine. Devon lifts his elbow and then lets all of his massive 335 pounds crash down on top of Bruce with the point of his elbow being driven right into Bruce’s chest cage

 

“NOW THAT’S HOW YOU DO AN ELBOW!!” Pete yells out in excitement. “Meh I’ve seen better” is all King can think of to say back.

 

Devon picks up Bruce and then lifts him up on his shoulder, facing forwards. The crowd pops as he points towards a turnbuckle and then runs towards it and drops Bruce face first right on the top turnbuckle, snapping his neck back and sending him to the canvas holding his neck in pain.

 

“Man payback IS a bitch” King says, making a cleverer pun off a move name than Pete ever could (or so he thinks) “Devon is really laying it into Bruce here.” Pete says as Devon has Bruce trapped in the corner letting a series of clubbing forearms rain down over the head and neck of his dazed opponent. “Bruce will be feeling this one tomorrow!” Pete says “And the night after that” King follows up.

 

Devon pulls Bruce back to his feet, but easily blocks an elbow smash attempt by Bruce and instead slams Bruce’s head into the turnbuckles once more. Matthew screams at Devon to break him in half, which leads to Devon hooking Bruce up for a suplex.

 

“He’s manhandling him like he was a little child” King says, Pete can’t resist replying back with “Oh you manhandle a lot of children King?” which doesn’t get a reply.

 

Devon applies all his power and manages to lift Bruce up for the suplex, only to quickly bring him forward dropping the massive Bruce right on his knee in a breath taking Suplex-to-Gut buster. Then he rolls Bruce over and lays on top of him for a cover.

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

TH-KICKOUT!!

 

Bruce managed to lift his shoulder at the very last moment but you can tell that his neck is hurting and that kicking out strained it even more. Devon isn’t one to get frustrated over not getting a pinfall so he just pulls Bruce back to his feet and then whips the redneck into the corner. Devon runs at Bruce trying to catch his opponent while still hurt from the turnbuckle impact. Bruce sees the big man coming and puts up a foot hoping that Walters will run into it full speed. But instead the big Hindu stops inches away from it and grabs the foot. His expression turns to one of anger as he looks down at Bruce’s boot in his hands, then he pulls on the leg tripping Bruce up before he start to wrench away at the foot.

 

“Is he going for an ankle lock King??” Pete asks confused over what Devon is trying to do as he twists away at Bruce’s foot. “I think it’s probably the very ancient secret Ganesh lock” King says with a straight face as he makes stuff up.

 

But it’s not an ankle lock he’s going for instead he tears Bruce’s boot off and then tosses it into the corner before starting to pull on the other cowboy boot as well.

 

“It’s snakeskin boots! That’s what Devon is taking offence to” Pete finally figures out. “I take offence to the dirty sock with the big toe sticking out myself” King says.

 

A moment later the other boot is yanked off Bruce’s foot and then brought down over Bruce’s head hard and fast before being tossed out of the ring. Devon is pissed off, religiously indignant, quite peeved if you will as he picks up Bruce from the ground. Then he wraps his huge hands around Bruce’s throat and lifts him into the air.

 

“Look at the power!! He’s lifted Bruce a good two feet off the ground” it comes from Pete as Devon turns the lifting choke into a Baldo Bomb and a cover

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

TH-NO!!

 

Bruce manages to kick back to break the count at the very last split second. Matthew is quick to yell instructions to his brother who is hesitating. Then picks up Bruce, grabs him by the hair and shoulder and tosses him shoulder first between the top and second rope right into the ring post.

 

*SMACK!*

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

 

“What a sickening sound King” Pete says as he winces in sympathy. “KARMA GONNA GETCHA!!” King screams as Devon Walters picks up Bruce in a fireman’s carry. Bruce’s weight makes it hard even for a big monster to do, but Devon manages to get Bruce up in position for the F5. As he goes to throw Bruce over his head the redneck locks his legs around Devon’s right arm, effectively blocking the dreaded finishing move.

 

“I cannot believe a guy like Bruce was able to come up with something that clever” Pete says quite impressed. “Maybe Marcus Ward gave him a few pointers before the match, these guys seem to be on the same page after all.” King points out

 

Devon cannot seem to execute the Karma on Bruce as the legs are locked, but instead he falls backwards bringing his 335 pounds crashing down on top of Bruce’s body in a Samoan Drop that he turns into a pinfall attempt

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

TH-HANDONTHEROPES!!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

Devon grabs both of Bruce’s hands and hold them to the ground as he covers again

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

THR-SHOULDERLIFT!!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

On the floor Matthew is getting frustrated with the near falls but as usual Devon isn’t one to lose his composure over something as secular as close falls. Instead he drops a huge elbow from way up high right to Bruce’s chest. On the floor Matthew is screaming for Devon to finish it off, to take it home thinking the match is won.

 

“Man can’t you shut that loudmouth up? How hard is it to shut up a loud mouth like that” Pete asks rhetorically “I’m not sure Pete, you’re still talking” King fires back, shooting, scoring!

 

Devon pulls the battered Bruce back to his feet and locks him up in a suplex position. As he tries to go for one of his suplex varations it’s blocked by Bruce. Well not as much blocked as he slumps down to his knees before Devon can execute the move. Then the redneck fires off with a quick thumb to the eye.

 

“Bruce going back to his Grecco Roman wrestling background tonight Pete!” King says laughing as Bruce rakes the eyes of Devon Walters desperately trying to regain the advantage in the match. A back elbow later and Bruce has managed to push Devon back away from him. Bruce quickly pulls the chain out of his pocket, shielding it from the referee with his massive frame as he lands a huge punch to the jaw of Devon knocking the big guy down

 

“There is that damn chain again!” Pete says really annoyed by the cheating ways of Bruce Blank.

 

The referee suspects that something is up and asks to see Bruce’s hands – as Bruce shows him his left hand he quickly drops the chain with his right hand and scoots it out of the ring using his foot without the referee seeing it.

 

“Man he’s smarter than he looks” King comments “He’d almost have to be” Pete points out.

 

Now stuck without a foreign object Bruce launches at Devon with a clothesline, only to be blocked as Devon takes one step forward, wraps his arms around Bruce and takes him off his feet with a thunderous belly to belly suplex. Devon gets to his feet but ends up eating canvas as he tries to drop an elbow on Bruce.

 

“Man I thought Bruce would be out of gas by now” Pete says as he sees just how hard Bruce is gasping for air. “Well maybe he could use a few rest holds… but I’m not sure he knows any” King replies, probably closer to the truth that he knows.

 

Bruce pulls off one of his socks and then with a twist of the hand wraps it around Devon’s throat before putting one of his massive arms around the jaw of Walters to cover up the choke with a headlock. Bruce twists the sock, choking out Devon more as the referee can’t do anything but watch it, it looks like a legal headlock after all.

 

“Man that’s disgusting” Pete say “What? The cheating? I think it’s great” King replies with a big smile. “No Bruce’s sock, man that reeks!!” Pete says while holding his nose.

 

Bruce pulls forward on the sock sending Devon running towards the ropes, then he lines up to clothesline the big man with his stinking, smelly sock on the return. But Devon counters by landing a big boot to the jaw of Bruce sending him into the ropes wrenching his neck once more.

 

“Man the only thing holding Bruce up right now are the ring ropes, he would have gone down HARD from that move otherwise” Pete points out, always the know it all.

 

Devon looms over Bruce, both hands raised in the air ready to bring them down in a crushing axe handle blow to the back of Bruce. The winded and hurt Bruce reaches into his bag of tricks and kicks backwards, upwards nailing Devon on the mommy/daddy button!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“Oh man Bruce just kicked him square in the nuts” Pete points out for those at home that did not see the kick. “ROSHAMBO!!” Is all King says

 

Bruce uses the bend over position of the big man to get him in a power bomb position. Then with every last ounce of strength in his body he manages to flip Devon Walters up on his shoulder and run/stagger about 2 steps forward before dropping the big man with his “Sweet Home Alabama” running power bomb.

 

*WHAM!!*

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-SPLITSECONDKICKOUT!!

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

 

Bruce is livid that Devon Walters was able to kick out of his finishing move, saying quite a few words that’d get him severely fined on Lockdown. But instead of brooding over it he hooks Devon’s leg and goes for another cover.

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

Bruce places his feet on the bottom rope to get extra leverage for the pinfall

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE-MATTHEWPUSHEDHIMOFF!!

 

Bruce jumps to his feet, furious at Matthew Williams for interfering with the match. The verbal attack quickly draws Matthew up on the apron where he tries to hit Bruce, the fist is blocked and Bruce counters with a right hook that sends Matthew to the canvas. As Bruce turns around he’s met by a face full of boot as Devon Williams used the breather to recover. Then he picks Bruce up by the throat and with a humongous effort manages to lift him up for a press slam.

 

“Are we going to see Deva’s Fire tonight Pete??” King says wondering if Devon can pull that move out of his bag against a 295 pound opponent. “Desperate measure, but it could pay off for him with all the neck damage he’s done to Bruce tonight.” Pete says in the heat of the battle

 

Devon has his right hand wrapped around Bruce’s throat and is trying to extend his arms up in the air. Unfortunately for Devon Bruce has managed to get a hand on the top rope to block it. Seconds later Bruce drops down behind the back of his huge opponent. Quickly he wraps his MASSIVE arms around the waist of Devon Walters and tries for a belly to back suplex.

 

“BLOCK BY DEVON!!” Pete says as Devon grabs the arms of Bruce and then launches his body backwards sandwiching Bruce into the corner.

 

Bruce sinks to his knees and then leans over the second rope hanging half way out of the ring from the impact of the 335 pound monster. Matthew is screaming at his brother to follow up, which he quickly obeys positioning himself behind Bruce trying to get him up for a back bodydrop. As Devon places his head in Bruce’s arm pit the redneck reaches out, grabs his snakeskin cowboy boot from the corner and jams the hard pointy toe of the boot right into the windpipe of his opponent.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“What a dirty cheat” Pete screams, trying to get the attention of referee Izzy Slappowitch. “Hey now he was just trying to put his boot back on. Besides with Bruce and Devon’s massive bodies blocking the way it’s not like Slappowitch could see it.” King says

 

Devon is holding his throat gasping for air, reeling in pain as Bruce picks his spot wisely. He knees the big man in the gut and then locks on another front headlock, but instead of grabbing the tights for a suplex he hooks the legs, the first stages of a Fisherman’s suplex.

 

“What the hell is he trying to do?? He can’t possibly have the power to lift him over after such a brutal match, his neck and back won’t be able to take THAT!” Pete says as Bruce tries to lift Devon Walters off the ground.

 

He’s partially right, Bruce CAN lift Devon – but only a bit and he can’t bring him over his head, instead he drops the big man straight down right on his neck in a very sick, almost botched looking Fisherman’s Driver

 

*CRUNCH!!*

 

“I think Bruce was trying to impart some ENLIGHTENMENT on Devon” King says pointing out that Bruce was trying to use Devon’s finisher but fucked it up. “I think he just made it worse by dropping him like that, I mean did you hear the crunch?” Pete says sounding a bit queasy.

 

Bruce more or less just collapses on top of the fallen giant with all of his body weight on the chest and head of Devon Walters as he holds his own neck in pain.

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

Matthew Walters runs towards the side where Bruce’s legs are closest to the ring ropes,

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

Matthew reaches in for Bruce’s legs to pull him off his brother

 

 

 

THREE!!!

 

But is too late top break up the cover!

 

Matthew is livid as the crowd boos the very tainted victory of Bruce Blank. Bruce himself is out of breath and hurting as he slowly rolls off Devon Walters. Hen he crawls to the edge of the ring, rolls out and finally gets to his feet while still sucking for air and staggering quite a bit from the beating he received during the match..

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

Funyon: The winner of the match in 17 minutes 2 seconds BRUUUUUUUUUUCEEEE BLAAAAANK!!

 

“Bruce had to dig deep into his bag of cheating tactics to get the win tonight King” Pete says looking quite pissed off “Yeah but a win is a win, it’s been all wins for Bruce so far in the SWF” King points out “And you can’t argue with success”

 

Bruce staggers over to the corner and then picks up his discarded cowboy boots and the Hardcore title and then makes his way towards the ring propping himself up with one hand on the guard rail the entire time.

[Ace309 0]

Pete: “What a tremendous edition of Smarkdown here tonight, and we’ve got plenty of great action still to come tonight. But right now, let’s talk about one of the great matches we’re going to be seeing at Genesis. Jay Hawke will be defending the International Championship against Zyon, and there is no love lost between these two.

 

King: “And I know what you’re going to say. Yon’s got three victories over Jay Hawke in the past month or so. Fact, the only one that actually counts happened in a tag team match.”

 

Pete: “They all count.”

 

King: “No they don’t! The other ones were a DQ when the match never even started and a cheap victory in what was supposed to be a public workout! Sunday night, when it matters, Jay Hawke is going to make Zyon tap out and finish him off once and for all.”

 

As King finishes with his prognostication, the familiar strains of Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” come on the PA to a chorus of boos. Jay Hawke, wearing a beige suit and carrying the beautiful International Championship belt over his shoulder, makes his way to the ring as the crowd begins its familiar chant:

 

 

“JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!”

 

 

Pete: “Well, this crowd is letting the International Champion know exactly what they think of him.”

 

King: “Well, Buffalo fans hate winners. If they liked winners, they’d recruit a team that could actually win a Super Bowl.”

 

Pete: “Stop it.”

 

Jay Hawke grabs a microphone off of Funyon as the crowd dies down.

 

Hawke: “Rather than insult you people, I’m going to cut to the chase tonight. Picking on you guys about Scott Norwood is not only too easy, but it’s soooooooooo ten years ago.”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Hawke: “But Sunday night, we come to Genesis VI. The biggest pay-per-view event of the year. The show we’ve been waiting all year for. And on the biggest show of the year, I’ll be defending this championship against a man who thinks he’s worthy because of a couple of fluke victories. Need I remind you that one of the stipulations behind the public workout was to be from Missouri? And here comes Zyon … who hails from Indiana … attacking me from behind and taking ten thousand dollars out of my pocket!”

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

 

Hawke: “Shut up! But anyway, I spoke with lawyer, Donald R. Dicks, and he assures me that if I wanted to, I could sue Zyon right now for not only the ten thousand dollars he stole from me, but also for court costs, damages, my lawyer’s fee, his lawyer’s fee, the judge’s robe, and the bailiff’s badge! But being the kind-hearted guy that I am, I’m going to let Zyon keep that money for one reason. Because when I get done with him this Sunday, he’s going to need every penny of that ten grand to pay his hospital bills!”

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Hawke: “Because when I get him in this ring this Sunday, I’m going to hurt him. I’m going to beat him down so badly, you’d think he’s one of the corpse they’ve found while combing New Orleans!”|

 

Pete: “That’s just wrong.”

 

King: “Funny though.”

 

Hawke: “I’m going to teach Zyon a wrestling lesson he’ll never forget, and there’s not a damn thing he can do--”

 

The arena goes black as the words “I’m Born”, “I’m Alive”, and “I Breathe” alternate on the Smarktron.

 

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

 

 

“Vitamin” by Incubus kicks in as Zyon walks on to the ramp looking over the arena at the fans who are looking at him.

 

Pete: “And here comes Zyon, King. I think he has some other opinion he’d like to express to Jay Hawke tonight.”

 

King: “We might want to get security on standby.”

 

Zyon does his forward flip over the top rope into the ring, and as he lands, he is handed a microphone by a ringside technician.

 

Zyon: “You know, I haven’t been watching this in the back or listening to anything you’ve been saying, but I can smell the bullshit from all the way back in the locker room. What, you’re a little bit upset that I pinned your shoulders to the mat last week? You’re angry because I’ve been outsmarting the Dean of Professional Wrestling?”

 

Hawke: “Oh, you’ve been outsmarting me, have you? Never mind that you’ve yet to beat me without having a tag team partner, jumping me from behind, or having an athletic commission handing you a victory on a silver platter. You’re just outsmarting me. Let me tell you something, pal, and this is the last bit of free advice you’re ever getting from me. Back out of the match now. You can’t beat me. You can’t withstand the Wing Span, and you know that because you’ve already tapped to it. And Sunday night, when I put it on you, I’m not just going to get a submission with it. I’m going to hurt you with it. I’m going to rip your shoulder out of the socket. I’m going to twist your neck until it comes off like a bottle cap. And when I finally decide to release the hold, your body is going to be left lying on the mat in at least three pieces. You don’t really want me to hurt you that badly, do you?”

 

Zyon: “Getting hurt is part of the game, isn’t it? If I was afraid of that, I wouldn’t be in this business in the first place.”

 

The crowd pops for the comment, and Hawke actually smiles.

 

Hawke: “You know something, Zyon? That’s the first smart thing I’ve heard you say yet.”

 

Jay Hawke then hits Zyon with his microphone, dropping him to the mat.

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

Pete: “Cheap shot by Jay Hawke, and now he’s stomping on Zyon’s shoulder!”

 

King: “Cheap shot, nothing! This is merely payback for Zyon stealing ten thousand dollars from Jay Hawke on Lockdown!”

 

Hawke gets a few more added stomps to Zyon’s shoulders, then waits for Zyon to stand up. He positions himself behind his number one contender and goes for the left arm…

 

King: “Wing Span coming up!”

 

…but Zyon reaches back and grabs Jay Hawke by the back of the neck, taking him over with a snap mare to counter Hawke’s finishing hold.

 

King: “What?”

 

Pete: “He countered the Wing Span! Zyon just countered the Wing Span!”

 

A stunned Hawke gets to his feet, only to be taken down with a dropkick. Zyon picks the champion up and deposits him on the mat with a slam, then climbs to the top rope.

 

Pete: “Zyon heading up top, possibly going for the Final Flash.”

 

Just as Zyon perches himself on the top rope, Jay Hawke rolls out of the ring, pulling his title belt out of the ring with him.

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

King: “Not tonight.”

 

Jay Hawke points at his head as he looks up at Zyon, saying “not tonight, not any night”.

 

Pete: “Jay Hawke was able to avoid the Final Flash here tonight, but can he avoid it Sunday night at Genesis?”

 

King: “And will it be enough for Zyon to win the International Title even if he can’t avoid it? Somehow I don’t think so.”

 

Pete: “And we’ve got more great action to come after this!”

[Ace309 0]

“Hello, everybody.” Ben Hardy jarringly greets the home audience. The camera is zoomed in tight on him, and all we can see is the master interviewer leaning forward in a cushy leather chair. “Tonight, we’ve got a special, uh, treat for everyone. A certain SWF Superstar has requested a one-on-one interview to set the record straight on a few things.”

 

“So then, let’s get started.” Ben says as the camera zooms out, revealing El Luchadore Magnifico sitting next to him, smiling and relaxing in an identical chair.

 

“Magnifico, you went from one of the most loved superstars in this federation to one of the most hated in a matter of seconds.” Ben begins. “What is it like having an entire group, an entire generation of SWF fans turn on you like that?”

 

ELM considers the question for a moment, his smile growing more thoughtful as he does so.

 

“I’ll be honest with you, Ben.” Magnifico finally says. “There was a time when that would have broken my heart. There were times throughout my SWF career where it was imperative that I pleased the fans, where I lived and died depending on what they thought of me. Their approval was all I fought for.”

 

“But that’s all changed now.” ELM’s smile turns into a carnivorous grin. “They’ve told me that they don’t give a damn about me, that I can die for all they care. And that’s just taken the weight of the world off of my shoulders. I fight for no one now but myself and my family. The actions I take are my own, not the fans’. And you have to admit, since I’ve come to this realization, I’ve been doing pretty damn well for myself.”

 

Ben nods. “No one can argue with that. Since your…uh, realization, you’ve racked up convincing wins against Wildchild, Zyon, and Johnny Dangerous to name a few. Which brings me to my next question…”

 

“On Storm, you defeated Johnny Dangerous by driving his skull into exposed concrete with La Dia de Los Muertos.” Magnifico smiles and nods at the memory as Ben continues. “Do you feel the slightest bit of remorse for what you did? A Fire Thunder Driver on concrete is enough to cause serious injury.”

 

“Not in the slightest.” ELM quickly responds. “Anyone who saw the match would realize that Johnny would do the same thing to me in an instant if given the chance. If you’ll recall, he drove me into the concrete with the Spinal Explosion, a move that could’ve, but luckily didn’t, cracked my ribs. It was a brutal, unforgiving match, but the rewards were well worth the pain I suffered and the pain I gave onto Johnny.”

 

“You face Dangerous again tonight. Any thoughts on the match?” Ben questions.

 

“To be honest, I’m not quite one hundred percent right now.” Magnifico admits, smiling warmly. “Johnny did do quite a number on my ribs, and my whole upper body is still pretty sore. But he’s had his own injuries and his own, shall we say, troubles to deal with, and I’m sure he’s not at full strength right now either. I don’t think I should have any problems beating him again.”

 

Ben nods and struggles to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. “Speaking of which, your win over Johnny gave you the Number One Contendership to the World Heavyweight Title, meaning that you’ll face Danny Williams for the Title in Genesis Six’s Main Event. Who do you feel has the advantage going into this contest.”

 

Magnifico thinks over his answer for a moment.

 

“I won’t lie. Danny Williams is a fantastic competitor.” ELM eventually says, the smile finally leaving his face. “But he still suffers from a tragic flaw. The same flaw that held me down for so many years. He still craves, still needs the approval of the fans to go on.”

 

“Yes, he’s beaten me before.” Magnifico concedes. “But I was a different person then. Danny is now how I was like then; filled with unbridled potential, held down by his desire to please the fans. Just look at me, Danny. I kept getting beat night in and night out, and I couldn’t figure out why. It’s only when I saw that they were holding me back that I could break through and realize my potential.”

 

“You’re one of the best ever, Danny.” ELM’s eyes stare blankly into the camera. “The only four-time World Champion in the fed’s history. But not for long. I’m better than you. I’m going to beat you. You will realize that they have no place in your life, that they can’t give you what you need.”

 

“Only then will you break free. Only then will you become the best there has ever been.”

 

An awkward silence follows for a few moments, as Ben isn’t quite sure how to follow that up.

 

“Ah…I see.” Ben clears his throat. “Well, Magnifico, thank you very much for taking the time to speak with us.”

 

“Thank you, Ben.” ELM responds, his eyes locking with Hardy’s as he smiles graciously. “Thank you.”

 

“Uh, no problem.” Ben finally gets out.

 

FADE OUT

[Ace309 0]

SWF Smarkdown returns from its final commercial break of the evening, welcoming back the viewer with the soothing sight of the inside of the HSBC Arena, packed to the brim with twenty thousand overexcited Upstate New Yorkers. As the camera pans over the crowd, the lights are suddenly and rather rudely cut out, leaving the horde of wrestling fans to sit and murmur in the darkness.

 

“HEY HEY!”

 

*BOOOOOOOOOM!!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The quiet is broken in rather dramatic fashion when Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” hits the speakers, accompanied by a burst of red, white, and green pyro that explodes upwards from the stage. Everyone in the building has already begun to boo, and only grow louder when El Luchadore Magnifico bursts through the pyro-induced smoke, his head bobbing in time with the pounding bass of his entrance music and his Mexican flag flapping gracefully behind him. Illuminated by a single spotlight, the luchadore quickly makes his way down the entrance ramp, paying no heed to the annoyed fans that surround him.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is tonight’s MAIN EVENT!” Funyon excitedly announces. “Introducing first, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds…EL LUCHADOOOOOOOORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The spirited introduction is wasted on this crowd, who continue to boo as Magnifico reaches the ring and slides beneath its bottom rope. Once inside, he immediately pops to his feet and steps into the center of the ring. A disgusted scowl on his face, ELM looks out over the crowd for a moment…before thrusting his Mexican flag high into the air, doing so in time with the lights being turned back on. The suddenly-visible audience doesn’t falter for a second in their booing and voice their displeasure of the luchadore as he hands his flag to the referee and begins his pre-match preparation.

 

“Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown, ladies and gentlemen!” LDP earnestly greets the home audience. “The road to Genesis VI is nearing its end, as we come to the main event on the last show before our greatest Pay-Per-View of the year!”

 

“Ay, it does an old ring general like me proud.” King gruffly admits. “Seeing grown men beat the tar out of each other over minor squabbles and gold-plated straps of leather is enough to touch the heart of even the most cynical of cynics.”

 

“…well said, King.” Pete responds, not quite sure what to make of that little monologue. “Anyway, tonight’s main event is a rematch of the contest we saw on SWF Storm, where El Luchadore Magnifico beat Johnny Dangerous and claimed the Number One Contendership to the World Heavyweight Title.”

 

“A beautifully brutal contest.” King happily adds. “’Course, it didn’t please Johnny any to have his skull cracked open and his rematch at Danny Williams snatched away from him. Add that to the fact that he’s been having problems with his friend and tag partner Wildchild as of late and you can understand why he’s not in the best of moods right now.”

 

“Good point, King.” Pete compliments. “Johnny has nothing to lose in this match. Look for him to go all out to try and regain a bit of the pride he’s lost over the past couple weeks. At the same time, Magnifico is riding high since beating Wildchild in convincing fashion at Ground Zero and looks to be nearly unstoppable at the moment. A win here would only add to his momentum going into Genesis VI and his World Heavyweight Title Match with Danny Williams.”

 

“Johnny Dangerous~!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The fans immediately begin to boo once more, drowning out the opening strains of “After the Flesh” while the lights are dimmed throughout the arena. Smoke mysteriously billows over the entrance stage and is cut through by the jarring flashes of nearby strobe lights. Just as Magnifico did a second ago, Johnny strides through the smoke and onto the entrance ramp, which only causes the live audience to become even louder and angrier in their booing. His Tag Title wrapped around his waist, Dangerous quickly makes his way down the ramp, his eyes locked coldly on his opponent. Not stopping his stretching, Magnifico returns the stare, not wanting Johnny to be out of his sight for even a split-second.

 

“And now, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at two hundred and seventeen pounds…” Funyon pauses for dramatic effect. “JOOOOOOHN-EEEEEEE DAAAAAAAANGEROUSSSSSSSSS!!”

 

Johnny reaches the ring and rolls beneath its bottom rope. Once inside, Dangerous pops to his feet and just stares at the luchadore, his teeth bared and his expression telling of the anger and frustration that are driving him to win tonight. Not intimidated, Magnifico straightens up and crosses his arms, waiting to see what Johnny has in store for him.

 

“Well, it’ll be hard to top their match on Storm in terms of sheer carnage,” Pete begins, “But that doesn’t mean Magnifico and Johnny won’t try. Both men could definitely use a win heading into Genesis VI, and I’m sure they won’t hold anything back tonight in their pursuit of a victory here tonight.”

 

The ref, seeing that everything is in order, turns to the timekeeper and signals for the bell.

 

DING DING DING

 

With that, Magnifico uncrosses his arms and takes a step towards Johnny. Apparently waiting for ELM to do just that, Dangerous suddenly breaks free of his rigid stance and begins sprinting across the ring! Johnny moves with amazing speed, closing in on the luchadore within the course of a second. As he approaches Magnifico, Dangerous drives his hand forward with a Shotei Palmstrike, aiming it right at the luchadore’s forehead! However, ELM has not forgotten his last contest with Johnny so quickly. Smiling, Magnifico moves his head out of the way of Johnny’s driving palm, effortlessly dodging the Shotei to the great displeasure of the Secret Agent. Before Johnny can put his anger to good use, ELM suddenly drives his knee forward, slamming it into Dangerous’ gut with untold force. Johnny immediately doubles over in pain, allowing Magnifico to grab him by the waist of his pants and the nape of his neck. With his opponent in tow, ELM then runs towards the nearby corner and throws Johnny forward, driving his shoulder directly into the unforgiving steel of the ring post! As the fans release a surprised OHHH!, Johnny stumbles backwards away from the corner, gripping his suddenly-throbbing shoulder tightly as he does so. Taking advantage of Dangerous’ pain-induced distraction, Magnifico grabs him by the back of the waist and pulls him to the mat, quickly and efficiently pinning him to the canvas with a Schoolboy Rollup! Dangerous kicks and struggles wildly as the ref slides into position and begins counting…

 

ONE!

 

TWO! No! Johnny breaks free of the Rollup and immediately scrambles back to his feet. Magnifico does the same, and the two men are basically back where they started at the beginning of the match; on opposite sides of the ring, staring coldly at one another. After a brief pause, ELM and Johnny begin to circle one another around the ring, Dangerous wincing slightly at the pain flowing through his shoulder as he does so.

 

“Looks like Magnifico’s going to stick with the strategy that won him the match on Storm.” Pete observes. “ELM’s work on the arm in that contest helped him reverse Johnny’s Dangerous Driver into La Dia de Los Muertos and win the contest.”

 

“And even though it most likely won’t be on exposed concrete this time,” King concedes, “I’m confident that this match will end in similar fashion. I doubt Johnny’s figured out a way to keep ELM off of his arm.”

 

In the ring, Magnifico and Johnny are quickly approaching the center of the squared circle and each other. Having gotten within striking distance of his opponent, Dangerous suddenly dives towards the luchadore, looking to lock up with him. But ELM isn’t having any of that, as he quickly lashes out with a European Uppercut, cracking Johnny in the jaw in mid-dive. Cursing to himself, Dangerous stumbles away from the luchadore and into a corner. Magnifico goes right after him, however, not allowing Johnny an inch of breathing room. When Johnny turns back towards the luchadore, Magnifico greets him by stomping him right in the gut, which is only the beginning of a series of stomps designed to wear Dangerous down. After landing about four or five of the blows, ELM grabs Johnny by the arm and attempts to whip him across the ring. Dangerous manages to reverse it, however, and sends Magnifico rushing across the ring and towards the far corner. Johnny runs after him, causing ELM, who hears the footsteps behind him, to run up the corner’s turnbuckles, pushing himself off of the top one and backflipping towards Dangerous with a Moonsault Press! However, Dangerous had stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing ELM run up the turnbuckles and is now in a perfect position to counter the Press! Johnny takes advantage of the situation by executing a hands-free backflip and lashing out with his foot! Dangerous times the kick perfectly, driving his foot into Magnifico’s ribs just as his body becomes perpendicular to the ground! Shot out of the sky, ELM cries out in pain and unceremoniously falls to the mat. Impressed despite themselves, the fans release a prolonged OHHHHH! and actually cheer a little bit as Johnny completes his flip and lands on his feet. Not wasting a moment, Dangerous immediately falls to his knees and covers the luchadore, hooking his leg as the ref slides into position and begins counting.

 

ONE!

 

TWO! No! Magnifico gets a shoulder up at two and a half, drawing a few half-hearted boos from the capacity crowd.

 

“Goddamn! Absolutely amazing Backflip Kick from Johnny to counter Magnifico’s Moonsault Press!” Pete cries, “Of course, it’s worth mentioning that ELM’s ribs took quite a beating in the match on Storm as well. Now that Dangerous has landed a strong blow to Magnifico’s body, this match might come down to which man can work over their opponent quicker.”

 

“Bah.” King dismissively and unhelpfully replies. “Magnifico’s damaged ribs didn’t slow him down on Storm, and they won’t today. The only thing he has to worry about is the Death From Above, which ELM deftly dodged in the last match and will dodge again if need be.”

 

Undeterred by the kickout, Johnny quickly gets back to his feet. Once there, Dangerous suddenly rears his foot back, pauses a moment for dramatic effect, and then drives it directly into ELM’s unprotected ribs! Magnifico cries out in pain and curls up into a ball, determined not to allow Dangerous to do that again. Johnny allows himself to grin for the first time in the match as he grabs ELM by the arm and gruffly pulls him to his feet. Dangerous then uses his grip to whip Magnifico across the ring and towards the far ropes. ELM bounces off of said ropes and rushes back towards Johnny, who greets the luchadore by spinning around and whipping his foot at Magnifico’s head with a Spinning Heel Kick! However, ELM manages to dodge the kick by rolling beneath Johnny’s extended foot, which whiffs harmlessly above the luchadore’s balled-up body. Magnifico pops to his feet and spins back towards Dangerous, but doesn’t move quite quick enough, as Johnny, who was more than ready for his opponent, quickly drives his knee forward and directly into ELM’s gut! Magnifico doubles over in pain and is immediately pulled into a Front Face Lock by Johnny, who pauses only for a brief moment before hoisting the luchadore into the air as if for a Vertical Suplex! Dangerous holds ELM perpendicular to the ground for a second…before suddenly and swiftly falling forward, slamming Magnifico’s chest into the mat with a Front Suplex! ELM cries out and curls up in pain as his body is slammed hard into the unforgiving canvas, which only further aggravates his already-weakened ribs. Less than sympathetic to Magnifico’s plight, Johnny quickly turns the luchadore onto his back and covers him, drawing a wave of boos from the audience as the ref slides into position and begins counting.

 

ONE!

 

TWO! No! ELM gets a shoulder up and immediately grimaces in pain, as sharp pangs of agony run through his body with even his slightest movement.

 

“This is very bad news for Magnifico.” Pete grimly states. “Dangerous has finally calmed down and is completely focused on the match. Johnny’s just going to keep working those ribs over until ELM won’t even be able to sit up.”

 

Pleased at seeing ELM’s suffering, Johnny grins happily as he climbs back to his feet, leaving Magnifico lying flat on his back beneath him. He pauses for a moment, possibly thinking over the best way to further increase ELM’s suffering. Apparently having come to a decision, Johnny suddenly leaps into the air and slams his feet into Magnifico’s ribs with a grimace-inducing Double Stomp! The entire crowd seems to wince as one as ELM shouts out in a combination of frustration and overwhelming pain. Desperate to get away from Johnny for the time being, Magnifico rolls beneath the nearby bottom rope and steps to the outside, cradling his ribs as he shambles away from the ring. Annoyed, Johnny rolls to the outside as well and follows the luchadore, doing so as the ref begins his count from the inside of the ring.

 

ONE!

 

Dangerous strides up to the stumbling luchadore and grabs him by the shoulder. Johnny turns the luchadore around, but as he does so, Magnifico lashes out with a surprise right the backs Johnny up a couple of steps! With Dangerous momentarily stunned, ELM has time to pull his arm back, drive it forward, and…

 

CHOP!

 

*SMACK*

 

“WHOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Twenty thousand citizens of the great city of Buffalo “whoo” despite themselves as Dangerous stumbles away from the luchadore, his chest stinging from the force of the Knife-Edge Chop!

 

TWO!

 

Johnny comes to rest against a ring post as Magnifico strides up to him, a hand pressed on his aching ribs. With Dangerous leaning back-first against the post, ELM draws his arm back once more, drives it forward, and…

 

…miss! In one swift motion, Johnny moves out of the way of Magnifico’s arm while grabbing it in mid-chop. Dangerous then uses his grip to pull ELM into the steel ring post, which he crashes into chest-first!

 

“Johnny makes great use of his speed there by not only dodging the Knife-Edge Chop, but by reversing it and using Magnifico’s momentum to pull him into the ringpost!” Pete reports.

 

“Yeah, ‘cause pulling someone into something takes a whole lot of talent.” King scoffs. “ELM just got careless, is all. Once he gets his shit together, you’ll see Johnny quickly fall to Magnifico’s might.”

 

THREE!

 

Magnifico turns and stumbles away from the corner, grimacing in pain and cradling his aching ribs as he does so. Unfortunately for him, Johnny isn’t about to just let him get away, as Dangerous comes up from behind Magnifico and sticks his head under the luchadore’s arm while grabbing the same arm and grabbing him by the leg on the same side. Johnny then hoists ELM onto his shoulders, spins around, and falls back-first onto the floor, slamming Magnifico’s back into the barely-protected concrete with the MI Slam! The fans OHHHHH! and boo as one as Magnifico, his body overcome with pain, arches his back and cries out in agony. Meanwhile, Dangerous climbs back to his feet and smiles down at the luchadore, pleased with his handiwork.

 

“Holy shit!” Pete shouts, surprised. “MI Slam out of nowhere on the outside! Not only does that severely damage Magnifico’s ribs and back, but I’d be surprised if ELM will even be able to get back in the ring after that!”

 

FOUR!

 

Confident that Magnifico in fact won’t be able to get back in the ring after the MI Slam, Johnny leisurely rolls back into the ring, stands up, and retires to a corner on the far side of the ring. As annoyed fans all around him boo their little hearts out, Dangerous leans against the corner’s turnbuckles, crosses his arms and legs, and happily watches Magnifico suffer on the outside, smiling broadly as he does so. During all of this, ELM barely moves at all, unable to even take a breath without his ribs and chest crying out in agony.

 

FIVE!

 

ELM still doesn’t move an inch. Dangerous releases a large, mocking yawn, which doesn’t actually endear himself to the live audience. They continue to boo Johnny mercilessly as he watches ELM intently

 

SIX!

 

The ref’s cry seems to finally snap Magnifico back to attention, as he slowly, agonizingly turns onto his stomach. Amused, Johnny cranes his neck and watches, amused, as ELM struggles to even push himself to his hands and knees.

 

SEVEN!

 

Gritting his teeth and struggling through the pain, ELM reaches his hands and knees and tries to push himself further. Discouraged by the tortuous agony that racks his upper body, Magnifico barely manages to get himself to one knee, actually drawing a smattering of cheers from the live audience by doing so. Meanwhile, Johnny, not breaking his stance, stops smiling and raises an eyebrow, not having expected Magnifico to get even this far.

 

“C’mon Mags, let’s go!” King cries, annoyed and concerned at the same time. “If you lose to that smug bastard like this, you’ll be even more pathetic than when you were a crowd-pandering face!”

 

EIGHT!

 

Crying out in pain, ELM suddenly lunges to his feet and falls against the guardrail! The nearby fans, amazingly enough, leave the luchadore be as he takes in deep, ragged breaths, struggling to regain his composure before attempting to reach the ring. At this point, Johnny’s getting pretty annoyed, as he steps out of the corner, puts his hands on his hips, and stares incredulously at Magnifico.

 

NINE!

 

ELM’s eyes catch sight of Johnny standing in the middle of the ring, staring at the luchadore, goading him to get back into the squared circle and continue the fight. Scowling, Magnifico pushes himself off of the guardrail, falls onto the apron…and climbs beneath the bottom rope, officially entering the ring just before the referee can finish the ten count! Respectful applause pours in from the audience as Magnifico lies back-down on the canvas, his chest heaving and his eyes staring blankly at the lights above him.

 

“He did it!” Pete reports, surprised. “Magnifico managed to get back into the ring just in time to avoid the ten count and keep the match going!”

 

“Whoo! Now Magnifico can finally take it to that smug, womanizing bastard once and for all!” King adds.

 

LDP stares at King.

 

“What?” King asks, curious.

 

“Oh, nothing. I’m just amazed that you don’t realize that you’re twice the smug, womanizing bastard Johnny is, that’s all.” LDP innocently comments. King grumbles something unintelligible, but leaves it at that.

 

After a couple moments rest, Magnifico slowly turns himself onto his stomach and begins to push himself to his feet once more. ELM eventually reaches his hands and knees, but unfortunately for him, that’s the exact moment Johnny comes sprinting across the ring. As Dangerous approaches, he lashes out with his foot, slamming it directly into the side of Magnifico’s body and immediately knocking him back to the mat! Angry boos pour in from every corner of the arena as ELM cries out and curls up in pain, doing his best to defend his body as Johnny, enraged, continues to wildly kick away at the helpless luchadore.

 

“Yeesh. Maybe Magnifico would have just been better off conceding the match.” Pete admits. “ELM has infuriated Johnny by getting back into the ring, and now he’s just out of control, attacking Magnifico like a wild animal!”

 

After landing an untold amount of kicks, Johnny grabs Magnifico by the hair and painfully pulls him to his feet, before throwing the luchadore back-first into a nearby corner. Before ELM even has a chance to get comfortable, Dangerous resumes his attack by violently stomping away at his opponent’s gut and chest, sending shockwaves of pain through Magnifico’s body with each stomp. Johnny lands about five of those and then grabs ELM by the arm, using his grip to pull the luchadore out of the corner and whip him towards the far corner. Magnifico hobbles across the ring and lands back-first in the corner, just in time to see Johnny charge across the mat and close in on the luchadore with terrifying speed. However, as Dangerous approaches, ELM suddenly dives out of the corner, leaving Johnny to crash into its top turnbuckle chest-first! Stunned, Johnny stumbles backwards and towards the center of the ring, completely unaware of Magnifico moving as quickly as he can to get behind him. When ELM does get behind Johnny, the first thing he does is throw his knee forward and drive it into the small of Dangerous’ back! Johnny cries out in pain and arches his body backwards, allowing ELM to easily pull him into a Reverse Facelock! Not wasting a moment, Magnifico immediately falls to the mat, pulling Johnny down with him and slamming the back of his head into the canvas with a Reverse DDT! A mixture of irritated boos and joyous cheers pour in from the live audience as ELM floats onto Johnny, making the cover as the ref slides into position and begins counting.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH-No! Johnny gets a shoulder up at two and a half, and the crowd’s response quickly shifts to nothing but booing.

 

“Once again, we see Johnny’s anger getting the better of him, and Magnifico taking advantage.” King reports in a scholarly tone. “ELM was like a graceful bullfighter, felling the charging beast that was Johnny Dangerous.”

 

“Ridiculous and overblown metaphor aside, you bring up a good point.” LDP concedes, kinda. “Dangerous was in complete control of the match when he kept his emotions in check, and quickly lost said control when he let his frustration boil over. Magnifico’s nearly crippled at the moment; all Dangerous needs to do at this point is stay calm and not let ELM get to him.”

 

ELM slowly rolls off of Johnny and begins struggling to his feet, gritting his teeth as he fights through the pain that accompanies the upwards struggle. Meanwhile, Johnny shakes off the effects of the Reverse DDT and begins climbing to his feet as well. Johnny reaches one knee as Magnifico finally stands, stepping towards Dangerous and grabbing him by the hair right after reaching his feet. ELM uses his grip to pull Johnny to his feet, but the second he’s standing, Dangerous suddenly reaches up and digs his nails into Magnifico’s face, clawing away while everyone in the live audience voices their displeasure. ELM covers his face and stumbles away from Johnny, who immediately follows the luchadore. When Magnifico turns back towards Dangerous, Johnny greets him by suddenly driving his palm forward and slamming it into ELM’s chest with a Shotei Palm Strike! Magnifico is knocked backwards by the force of the Palm Strike and into the corner behind him, whose turnbuckles he leans up against, dazed. Regaining a little of the swagger he displayed so prominently earlier in the match, Dangerous confidently strides up to the luchadore, grinning contentedly to himself as he does so. Johnny delivers a few quick kicks to Magnifico’s gut before grabbing him by the waist, hoisting him into the air, and sitting him on the top turnbuckle. Dangerous reaches up and delivers a few punches to ELM’s jaw for good measure before following the luchadore up to the turnbuckle, drawing a wave of anticipatory boos from the crowd by doing so.

 

“Looks like Johnny has had just about enough of Magnifico for one day.” Pete comments. “He’s regained his composure and seems ready to finish ELM off right here and now.”

 

“So he’s calm, and that means he’s going to win?” King earnestly questions. “Gimme a break. Johnny, in what’s become a very entertaining trend, will choke once more and leave himself wide open to a counter from Magnifico, who will win in convincing fashion and further embarrass one Johnny Dangerous.”

 

Upon reaching the top turnbuckle, Johnny delivers a few more stiff punches to Magnifico’s jaw, just doing it out of spite at this point. He then grabs ELM by his hair, carefully stands him up, grabs him by the waist and arm, and pulls the luchadore onto his shoulders. Careful to keep his balance, Johnny slowly turns around so that his back is facing the crowd, and that he and Magnifico are facing the ring. Dangerous then suddenly leaps off of the top turnbuckle, flipping forward as he does so in an attempt to land a Super Spinal Explosion! However, as Johnny is flipping forward, Magnifico manages to break free of Dangerous’ grip and wrap his arm around his head! ELM then slides off of Johnny and takes control of his body in mid-air, guiding him to the mat and slamming the top of his skull into the canvas with a Super DDT! The surprised fans OHHHH! as one and cheer, impressed despite themselves. Magnifico flops to the mat, landing next to Johnny, who lays motionless save for the occasional spasmic jerk of a limb.

 

“Jesus Christ! That was unbelievable!” Pete exclaims. “In mid-air, Magnifico reverses Johnny’s Super Spinal Explosion into a Super DDT! That might be enough to put Dangerous down for the three count, if he can just get over there and make the cover!”

 

But that might be easier said than done, as Magnifico is having a hard time shaking off the agony that still wracks his body. Working through the pain, ELM claws at the mat and slowly crawls towards Johnny, who still has yet to move an inch from his landing spot. Unable to fully support the luchadore, a raucous yet uncommitted mixture of cheers and boos pour in from the crowd as Magnifico inches ever closer to Dangerous’ motionless body. Finally, ELM reaches Johnny and collapses on top of him, making the cover to the partial delight of the crowd. Magnifico weakly hooks Johnny’s leg as the ref slides into position and makes the count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

 

DING DING DING

 

“Your winner, by pinfall!” Funyon suddenly shouts, “EL LUCHADOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Atake FDD’s “Tu Final” hits the speakers, for once not drowned out by the boos of a large, angry mass of people. They’re not pleased by any means, but the fans here respect the effort both men put forth, and just kinda look on as Magnifico rolls off of Johnny and begins climbing to his feet, a tired but unmistakably happy grin etched across his face.

 

“Magnifico wins it! ELM executes an amazing counter to the Super Spinal Explosion and take the victory!” Pete announces.

 

“Kinda strange that it was Johnny’s desire to capitalize on Magnifico’s damaged upper body that finally did him in.” King comments. “Not that I care. A win’s a win, and ELM gets the momentum going into Genesis while Dangerous just struggles to not suck.”

 

“Absolutely, King.” Pete adds. “A big win for Magnifico going into his World Heavyweight Title Match with Danny Williams, and another devastating loss for Johnny as he struggles to get back on track after losing the title.”

 

In the ring, Magnifico has finally reaches his feet and has his hand thrust into the air by the waiting ref. Exhausted, all ELM can manage to do is raise his other arm for a second and grin jubilantly, knowing now that, without a doubt, he’s ready for Danny.

 

Meanwhile, at his feet lays a fallen champion, a man who lost everything in pursuit of the World Title, only to have that snatched away from him as well. His world is anger and frustration. There’s no telling how, or when, his emotions will take control of him once and for all.

 

“Well, we’ve had a fantastic show leading into Genesis VI, but I’m afraid that it’s now over.” Pete admits. “Hope you enjoyed Smarkdown, ladies and gentlemen! Good night! Watch Genesis VI!”

 

The last image broadcasted is El Luchadore Magnifico, a tired smile on his face and his hand raised high into the air…