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PROMO: "Whisky is Alright in its Place...

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PROMO: "Whisky is Alright in its Place...But its Place is in Hell"


Moments before Smarkdown hits the air, “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins hides out inside of the locker room. Spike sits in his street clothes on a bench, his cell phone to his ear.


“Hey, Zyon? It’s Spike. How’s it going man?” Murmurs are heard from the other side, “That’s good. So, when did the doctor say your back would be healed…December? That’s cool man. Yeah, keep resting. You know injured will come back to get you later on if they don’t heal right.”


Spike pauses, letting the Unique Youth speak on the other end.


“Yeah…I know. Losing to Bruce Blank was pretty low…I know he isn’t in my league. It’s just that…my mind was somewhere else, ya know? I mean, ever since it was announced that I would get my title shot at Ashes 2 Ashes, all I could think about is ELM. The only match I’m thinking about is that main event title match.”


“I know I’ve got to get my head in the game. I will with my match on Storm against The Divine Wind. I know he is a very talented rookie, a lot like yourself, but I can handle myself against him…it won’t be easy, but I can take care of him…”


As this goes on, a man enters the room, walking up to Spike and standing besides him, only his jeans and boots are visible. Spike looks away from the man with an annoyed expression on his face.


“Zyon…I got to go…I’ll talk to you later,” Spike says as he hangs up the phone. He rises to his feet, the camera slowly moving up with him, coming up the abdomen of the intruder…and soon, the SWF World Heavyweight Title over his shoulder. The man is none other than Jenkins’ Ashes 2 Ashes opponent and World Heavyweight Champion, El Luchador Magnifico.


“What are you doing here, ELM?”


“To be blunt about it, I came to laugh in your face.”


“WOW, aren’t you an ass?”


“I’m not here to be your friend,” retorts the champion, “I came here to mock you and to thank you.”


“Thank me?”


“Yes, thank you. Because of your hard-fought defeat to Bruce Blank, you proved my point.”


“…And what point is that?”


“That you simply do not belong in the main event with me; on a pay per view, on a television show, hell, not even at a house show. You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”


“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it before, ELM. Save your breath.”


“Again, thank you for proving my point. You heard it all before? You want to know why? Because it’s TRUE,” chuckles the Maskless Luchador, “Face it, Spike. You choke in the big matches. Hell, you choke in every match. You couldn’t beat a tag team wrestler in a one-on-one match! You couldn’t even beat Bruce Blank! Seriously! If you can’t beat Bruce Blank, how do you expect to beat ME?”


“You’ll see at Ashes 2 Ashes!” Spike raises his voice, “My mind has been set on you. That’s why I lost those two matches. Trust me, it WON’T happen again.”


“I highly doubt that. In fact, I bet you won’t win any matches from now till…well…AFTER Ashes 2 Ashes.”


“You’re so full of it! Don’t worry, ELM. I’ll prove you wrong. I’ll go from show to show winning my matches and then at Ashes 2 Ashes, I will take that title from you!”


ELM grins at the challenger, leans in towards him, and cockily mumbles, “No…you won’t.”


And with that, the champion turns and walks out of the locker room, leaving his soon-to-be challenger looking down at the ground and leaving him with one thing…






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Seriously, as angry as Spike is these days he should have just taken ELM down. But all the same, it's a reason for losing.

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Guest BillFillmaff

Bill Fillmaff is a REAL man and drinks lager, not whiskey. For free, at the best casinos in the world! Bill Fillmaff is comped wherever he goes, because the world knows how good I am!


Who are you again, kid?

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