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chirs3

SWF Smarkdownoween!

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The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...

SWF SMARKDOWN! TAPED ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT, AIRED ON TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1st, FROM THE BISMARCK CIVIC CENTER IN BISMARCK, NORTH DAKOTA!

(5PM PST, 8PM EST; check local listings)

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

The Main Event - Standard Pre-PPV Big Main Event of Great Magnitude

The HispaniCan Connection (El Luchadore Magnifico ©, Landon Maddix ©, and JJ Johnson) vs. City Legendary Configuration (Todd Cortez, TORU Takahara, and KOJI Kitano)

 

--> The power of Mansonosity literally blew Spike Jenkins to pieces on Lockdown. Normally we'd put him opposite his PPV contendor before the PPV in a match like this, but we're afraid he won't live to make it to A2A, so we've given him a somewhat safer opponent for tonight, and decided to give Cortez a chance to redeem himself, somewhat.

 

On the other side, Jay Hawke is busy defending his International Championship, so JJ Johnson will be standing in for him.

 

So it's Landon, Johnson, and Magnifico vs. TKO and Todd Cortez! But that's not enough - oh no, not nearly enough. Even though I'm pretty sure not all of the occupants meet the weight requirements, we're doing this LUCHA STYLE (as related to me by JJ Johnson)!!

 

Rules: Lucha rules - 20 count on the outside, piledrivers are illegal, and a tag is registered if the legal man touches the arena floor!

 

Landon Maddix: The King of the Cosmos

JJ Johnson: Mountie

El Luchadore Magnifico: Stone Froze Jack Houston (no picture available)

 

TKO: Garden Gnomes

Todd Cortez: The Headless Horseman

 

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

SWF International Championship Match

Jay Hawke © vs. Wildchild

 

--> Jay Hawke will be busy with the Tag Titles at A2A, so tonight he gets another defense on free-TV... and what a defense it is! Hawke managed to best Johnny Dangerous last Storm, but now Johnny's ex-partner, coming off a HUGE win over TORU Takahara, gets a crack at the title! Will Wildchild succeed where Johnny failed? Or will he just become another notch on Jay Hawke's ridiculously impressive belt?

 

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

Jay Hawke: A Safe Bet

Wildchild and Melissa: "Macho Man" Randy Savage and Miss Elizabeth

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

SWF Hardcore Championship Match - House Rules "Trunk or Treat" Match

Bruce Blank © vs. Haffy

 

--> Haffy beat Bill Fifllallafmandm. That makes me happy. Have a title match, Haffy!

 

Rules: Bismarck refused to let us have these two wrestle in one of their neighborhoods during Trick or Treating, so we had to improvise. A curious phenomena I found out about up here in Utah is "Trunk or Treat" - where parents, paranoid that their kids will be given razorblade apples or poison candy from regular Trick or Treating, all stuff candy in the trunk of their cars, drive to a big parking lot, and let kids visit all the other cars for candy.

 

So tonight, Bruce Blank and Haffy will be duking it out in the parking lot of the Bismarck Orthodox Presbyterian Chapel. Unbeknownst to the owners of the cars, the SWF managed to sneak the SWF Hardcore Championship belt into one of their trunks! Which one? Who knows! Bruce Blank and Haffy must engage in a no-holds-barred parking lot brawl to find it! The fight starts in the very center of the parking lot. It may move anywhere it damn well pleases - the street, the chapel, doesn't matter. The fight goes on until one man pops the correct trunk and grabs the title belt!

 

And yes - parents and children will be present. They won't necessarily be informed of what's going on, though... :P

 

Bruce Blank: This Guy

Haffy: Crocodile Dundee

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

"Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. Ghost Machine

 

--> Oh how the mighty have fallen. Our current #1 Contendor to the World Heavyweight Title has been losing left and right, and even got blown into little meaty chunks on Lockdown. Thanks to some black market voodoo witch doctoring materials, we managed to revive our plucky hero, but will his recent brush with death help turn his luck around?

 

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

Ghost Machine: Nicolas Cage (as Ghost Rider)

"Hollywood" Spike Jenkins: Ghost Machine (no picture available)

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Marcus Ward vs. Candace "The Joshi Dragon" Okimura

 

--> Bill Fillmaff had, um... a poker tournament... so Marcus Ward will be taking over for him against Candace, in what must be one of the biggest mismatches in history!

 

Rules: Standard singles match.

 

Candace: Candy Striper (somewhat risky picture)

Marcus Ward: Smokey the Bear

Edited by chirs3

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Funyon brings the microphone to his lips as the jam parked Bismarck Civic Center slowly grows silent. The long time SWF announcer pauses to await the rapt attention of the fans, and then starts with his introductions.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen…the following contest is one fall to a finish with a twenty minute time limit…”

 

The house lights begin to dim as a solo spotlight turns to the stage area. The first notes of David Bowies, “China Girl” start over the arenas speakers.

 

“Hailing from Osaka Japan...Please welcome…Candace “The Joshi Dragon”O---KIM---URRRRRAAAA!!!

 

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

 

The crowd gives a polite ovation as several pyros explode from under the SmarkTron. Candace, wearing a highly provocative nurses outfit, steps out from behind the red Velvet curtain, and pauses on the stage. The Asian beauty smiles politely at the fans…visible pleased by the warm welcome. She pauses for a moment, and then starts down the entrance ramp and towards the ring area.

 

“Candace is making her return here to the SWF” Pete offers as the Asian beauty high fives a few of the fans in the front row. Candace smiles warmly to the audience, then climbs the steel stairs and enters the ring.

 

“I know she got off to a rocky start…but she’s back now and we’ll see if she can get back on track”

 

The Joshi Dragon heads to her corner of the ring, as Funyon once again goes to the mike.

 

“And her opponent…”

 

 

 

"Uh-Uh"

 

 

 

"Uh-uh"

 

 

 

"Uh-uh"

 

 

The spotlight once again shifts to the velvet curtain as the crowd locks its eyes on the stage. A few scattered jeers echo through the arena at the expected arrival of the hated Marcus Ward. A man, hiding under a dark black Cloak, emerges from behind the curtains.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

 

"A Mastermind - sees it coming before it comes"

 

 

A man wrapped in a gold sequined cloak walks out of the entranceway.

 

 

"A mastermind - before he go to war he counts his one"

 

 

The cloaked man lifts a single finger in the air.

 

 

"A mastermind - everything planned out perfect, in case y'all niggaz got to get murdered."

 

 

Marcus Ward pulls back his cloak as the last line resonates over the speakers. He slowly lifts his head up so he can tap finger to forehead as is his signature taunt...and then begins to make his stroll to the ring. The smug-looking Ward, wearing a bizarre Smokey the Bear outfit, heads towards the ring in his usual arrogant strut.

 

“You have to love this guy”, the King states matter-of-factly. “He’s got the perfect attitude for this business”

 

“I won’t comment on his attitude” Pete responds. “But the outfit is…unique”

 

 

"A mastermind - sleeps at night, real easy"

 

 

Marcus lets his cocky smirk come to his face…much to the chagrin of the fans.

 

 

"A mastermind - cause everything he does is by the book"

 

 

 

"A mastermind - never do a thing irrational, lives forever, these tales are classical."

 

 

 

Ward confidently climbs the stairs leading to the ring. The powerfully build Superstar glances dismissively at the Dragon, then heads to his corner of the ring. Ward flashes a cocky smile at the fans…who respond in the usual manner.

 

MARCUS SUCKS!

MARCUS SUCKS!

MARCUS SUCKS!!!!

 

“This audience is so rude…I don’t know why they would boo Marcus Ward!” The King offers as the Mastermind surveys the audience from his corner. A smug grin creases his lips as the crowd jeers appear to be quite meaningless to him.

 

“I think they recognize how arrogant the man is”, Pete responds. “He’s so full of himself…I guess the crowd doesn’t exactly warm to the guy”

 

 

A silence falls over the crowd as Ward and the Dragon head towards the center of the ring. A wide grin is etched on Marcus’ face as he checks out his opponent. The Dragon, looking quite alluring in the revealing nurses’ outfit, clearly appears out of place in an SWF wrestling ring. A somewhat overweight referee scurries up the ring steps and steps into the ring. He motions quickly for the bell as the match officially gets underway.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Ward walks confidently towards his waifish opponent. The Dragon, looking extremely focused, locks eyes on her intimidating adversary. Marcus pauses for a moment, then folds his hands in front of him…bowing mockingly to Candace.

 

“Ah Soooo!” Ward snips, and then breaks into a wide grin.

 

“That’s uncalled for” offers Pete, as Ward breaks into a snide chuckle. The rugged superstar hunches over as he gestures for a lock up. Candace responds with a quick kick to the jaw that catches her hulking opponent off guard.

 

THUD!

 

Ward takes several steps back as he rubs his hand over his chin. A look of surprise appears on his face as he shakes off the unexpected blow. Candace quickly continues her assault with a sharp knife edge across the pectoral region of Wards fur covered costume.

 

K-RACK!

 

“Candace is quickly getting the Mastermind attention” Pete gushes as the Joshi Dragon gets off to a strong start in the match up.

 

“That might not be wise on her part…” offers the King.

 

Marcus grimaces in pain at the stinging chop. A look of anger quickly begins to form on his face as he quickly turns an angry glare at the attacking Asian. The Mastermind, none to happy about being on the receiving end of the action, lowers his shoulders, and then fires a punishing clothesline at the Joshi Dragon.

 

WHIFF!

 

Candace ducks under the vicious blow then comes to a quick stop. Marcus awkwardly turns around, only to be greeted with a powerful hook kick to the sternum. A loud thud resonates in the arena as foot meets bear outfit with brutal impact.

 

“Holy Cow! Nice counter by Candace. Her speed appears to be causing some problems for the Mastermind!”

 

“She’s fast” the King agrees. “But remember the old saying…don’t run so fast…you’ll only die tired!”

 

 

A chorus of laughter rises from the crowd as Marcus Ward falls backwards on the mat. The Mastermind springs to his feet as Candace quickly assumes a defensive stance. Ward fires a furious stare at Candace, as a look of embarrassment begins to form on his face. The slightest of smiles creases Candace’s lips as she folds her hands in front of her face, then bows mockingly at her visibly annoyed opponent.

 

“That…” the King states in a somber tone… “...is a mistake!”

 

Marcus nods in acknowledgement of the Dragon. He slowly circles his opponent, clearly rethinking his offensive strategy. He quickly gestures for a lock up, but as Candace pauses to consider the challenge, Ward fires a hard knee to the midsection of the Asian beauty. Candace quickly doubles over in pain. As she does so the Mastermind sends her hard to the mat with a vicious clubbing blow to the back.

 

Candace grimaces in pain as she reaches gingerly to her lower back. A wide grin flashes over the Masterminds face as he slowly approaches the fallen Dragon. He reaches down and grabs a handful of Candace’s long, black hair, then pulls his opponent to a vertical base. Marcus Ward effortlessly scoops Candace into the air and gorilla presses her over his head. He twirls the waifish Candace in the air, and then slams her hard to the mat.

 

THUD!

 

“Marcus Ward definitely has the power advantage in this match up” Pete concedes as King nods in agreement.

 

“Very true. Candace is quick as a hiccup…but regardless of how quick you are…power is going to be a major problem for her”

 

The crowd sighs in unison as Candace bounces hard on the canvas. The Mastermind glances dismissively at his fallen opponent, and then turns his attention to the crowd.

 

“I’m in total control” he barks as he measures Candace for an elbow.

 

Candace slowly gets to her knees, but is rewarded for her effort with an elbow drop to her already aching lower back. Once again Marcus Ward pulls Candace to her feet. He quickly slaps on a bear hug, and then follows up with a stinging belly-to-belly suplex. Once again the crowd releases a collective sigh as Candace’s face becomes a mask of agony. Ward yawns as if bored, and then rolls Candace onto her back. He plants his knee chest. He raises his arms up and flexes in an effort to further irritate the fans. The referee quickly hits the mat and starts the count.

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

No! Candace kicks out.

 

“The Dragon kicks out” Pete explains.

 

Ward rolls his eyes in a mix of consternation and amusement. He quickly pushes Candace back to the mat and leans on her for a more substantial pin fall attempt. Once again the referee slaps the canvas.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

No! Candace again kicks out.

 

Marcus chuckles slightly as he gets to his feet. He patiently waits for Candace to get to her knees, and when she glances up he fires a hard slap to her face.

 

CRACK!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

“Now that’s uncalled for”

 

“I’m not so sure about that” King responds. “This is Marcus Ward way of making his presence felt”

 

Candace falls face first to the mat. Ward quickly kips to his feet, and then heads towards the ropes. He bounces off the middle of the ring ropes, then steams towards his fallen opponent.

The Mastermind leaps into the air; driving both knees into the small of Candace’s back.

 

CRUNCH!

 

Once again an alligator grin flashes over Wards face. He points towards his head…which draws the expected response from the crowd.

 

ASSHOLE!

ASSHOLE!

ASSHOLE!

 

Ward smirks arrogantly at the fans, and then turns his attention back to Candace. The Joshi Dragon, holding her back in agony, struggles to get to her feet. The Mastermind slowly approaches Candace, again grabbing her long black hair and pulling her to her feet. As Candace gets to a vertical base she suddenly fires a sharp throat thrust that catches the Mastermind unexpected. She follows with a wild knife edge that cracks her opponent hard across the bridge of his nose. The massive Mastermind back peddles as Candace rolls out of harms way and slides under the bottom rope to the arena floor.

 

“Very smart move by the Joshi Dragon” Pete chimes in. “She’s been on the receiving end of a lot of punishment. Bail out of the ring and regroup!”

 

 

Marcus Ward glares at Candace as he gets to his feet. A look of anger begins to form on face of the Mastermind. He quickly rolls out of the ring and heads for the Asian beauty. Candace, noticing the approaching behemoth, quickly races in the other direction. As the two competitors are outside of the ring the referee quickly starts his count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

As the Mastermind closes in on Candace, the Asian beauty comes to a quick stop, then fires a hard kick at the midsection of her approaching opponent. Ward catches Candace by the ankle, and then glares menacingly into her eyes.

 

“Not today Charlie Chan!” he blurts as an arrogant grin flashes over his face.

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

Candace, caught in a precarious situation, quickly counters into an Enzuiguri. She kicks Marcus Ward hard to the temples as the crowd quickly begins to chant her name.

 

CANDACE!

CANDACE!

CANDACE!

 

SIX!

 

“They better pick up the pace of this is going to be a count out!” King states as the crowd begins to get restless.

 

 

 

Ward shakes off the kick, and then nails the Joshi Dragon with a brutal clothesline. Candace hits the arena floor hard, as Ward heads for the steel ring steps.

 

SEVEN!

 

“Marcus Ward nearly took off her head with that clothesline”

 

The Mastermind tosses the top stair onto the arena floor. He casually strolls over to his opponent, once again using the Asian beauties hair to pull her to her feet. An evil grin flashes over his face as he pulls Candace towards the steel stair.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 

EIGHT!

 

“Ward better get into the ring…he can’t be lollygagging out there forever!” King blurts with a trace of angst in his voice.

 

A confident grin flashes over Marcus Wards face as he positions Candace over the steel ring step. Candace suddenly leaps up and wraps her legs around her opponents’ neck. A look of shock washes over Marcus Wards face as Candace sharply shifts her weight, sending the Mastermind head first into the steel ring stairs with a modified Hurricanrana.

 

KA-SPLAT!

 

“Oh my God!” exclaims the King as the crowd quickly gets on their feet. A deafening cheer fills the arena as a trickle of blood begins to run down Marcus Wards forehead.

 

NINE!

 

Candace quickly gets to her feet, and then dives for the ropes. She slides under the bottom rope just as the referee makes the final count.

 

TEN!

 

Marcus Ward, bleeding heavily from an open laceration on his forehead, slowly struggles to his feet. He wobbles towards the ring as the referee signals for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Candace slowly gets to her feet as the referee raises the Asian beauties hand in the air. Marcus Ward, slowly beginning to realize what has just happened, pounds his fist on the ring apron in anger. Funyon quickly enters the ring to announce the results, as the crowd gives a warm ovation for Candace.

 

 

“The time of the match 12 minutes and 23 seconds...the winner…CANDACE!!!!!”

 

YYYYEEAAHHH!!!!

 

Marcus Ward quickly rolls under the bottom rope and steams towards Candace. As the Dragon celebrates her win the Mastermind levels her with a brutal clothesline.

 

BOOOO!!!

 

“What the hell is he doing? The match is over!” Pete yells as the crowd violently jeers the Mastermind. “Talk about bad sportsmanship!”

 

A look of intense rage covers Marcus Wards face as he yanks Candace to her feet. He quickly clamps on a brutal bear hug and begins to squeeze the life from his tiny opponent. Candace flails helplessly as she moans in pain. The Mastermind shakes Candace like a rag doll, and then sends her hard to the canvas with a vicious belly-to-belly suplex.

 

SPLAT!

 

“Marcus is not too happy to loose the match…I guess Candace is having what is known as a pyric victory!” King explains. “You win…but you really loose”

 

“There is no justification of this sort of behavior!”

 

Ward quickly kips to his feet as Candace lie motionless on the mat. The look of rage, unappeased by the brutal attack, deepens on his face. He once again grabs Candace by the hard, and then jerks her to her feet. The Mastermind effortlessly hoists Candace into a Tilt-a-whirl Backbreaker, but instead positions Candace across his brawny shoulders and into a torture rack.

 

BOOOO!!!

 

The Mastermind cranks hard on his patented “Total control” as Candace squeals loudly in submission. A look of intense rage burns from the eyes of Marcus Ward as he viciously contorts the Joshi Dragons back. The referee immediately orders Ward to stop, but the Mastermind pays no attention to the SWF official.

 

“We need to get some help out here…this is getting out of hand!” exclaims Pete as Ward continues to punish the Asian beauty.

 

YOU SUCK!

YOU SUCK!

YOU SUCK!

 

Marcus Ward finally tosses Candace to the mat in disgust, and then glares down at the crumpled Dragon. He fires a menacing glance at the referee…who quickly steps away from the enraged Superstar…then storms out of the ring and starts up the entrance ramp.

 

“Despicable behavior by Marcus Ward. I can only hope he is fined for his actions”

 

A trace of a smile starts on Kings face.

 

“Look on the bright side…Candace won the match!”

 

Ward continues to the backstage area as SMARKDOWN goes to commercial break.

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The camera cuts back to Longdogger Pete and The Suicide King, the latter of which appears to be in the middle of telling a story. King, wearing a costume that perfectly depicts one Jimmy Hart, gesticulates wildly as he conveys the tale to LDP, whose unwieldy yet insanely detailed crawfish suit draws the eye of everyone within a hundred yards.

 

“...so anyway, now they’re charging me with public drunkeness and indecency on top of everything else, which is ridiculous because I was only slightly drunk and I’m almost sure I was naked for only a few moments.” King rambles. “In any case - ”

 

“Er, king.” Pete interrupts.

 

“What makes it even worse is that was my day with that kid I was mentoring as part of my community service. In all honesty, I’m not sure where the hell he even is right now - ” King absentmindedly continues.

 

“King.” LDP says again, pleading.

 

“Of course, the cap on the whole thing is when I ended up at that strip bar and begin dancing for a group of rowdy homosexual truckers. And that’s when the Hell’s Angels showed up and – “

 

“KING!” Pete shouts. King glares at him, annoyed at having his story interrupted. LDP silently points at the camera, causing King’s face to slowly drain of all color.

 

“...well then.” Pete clears his throat, attempting to bring some resemblance of class to this show. “We’re ready to go on to the next event scheduled for this evening. Where’s that damn itinerary?”

 

King holds it up, putting on his ridiculously small reading glasses as he does so. “Right here, Pete. According to the schedule, our next exciting, action-packed event is...an informational video entitledDia de los Muertos: Or, Why Halloween Sucks.”

 

“...you can’t be serious.” Pete moans, but before he can say anything else, a video abruptly begins playing on the SWFTron. A moment later, the broadcast cuts to that as well.

 

The opening image is that of El Luchadore Magnifico, dressed in a conservative three-piece suit (with the World Title inexplicably wrapped around his waist, over the clothes) and wearing comically large sixties glasses, like Charles Neilson Reilly would wear. As the camera closes in, he looks up from the folder he’s reading from and smiles warmly.

 

“Ah, welcome my friends.” ELM greets. “I’m here tonight to educate you about Dia de los Muertos.”

 

“I know what you’re thinking, gentle viewer.” Magnifico chuckles, removing his glasses as he does so. “But no, it’s not just the name of my finisher, which I’ve used to fell a countless number of pathetic, unworthy weaklings.”

 

“No, Dia de los Muertos is much more than that.” ELM explains, looking right into the camera. “Quite simply, Dia de los Muertos is the Mexican holiday that celebrates the dead and is in every way better than Halloween, which totally eats.”

 

“A simple comparision will show you that I’m right.” Magnifico continues as he walks over to a nearby chart, which reads as follows.

 

HALLOWEEN (boo)

 

Kids go house to house in laughably bad, store-bought costumes, annoying random people for shitty candy. What’s more, most Trick-or-Treating doesn’t even occur on Halloween, you stupid, stupid people.

 

Halloween parties are nothing more than execuses for idiots in terribly uncreative outfits to get drunk and act like morons.

 

Halloween used to be cool, when Pagans would make human sacrifices and basically have a good time. But then the Christians got a hold of it and mucked everything up.

 

DIA DE LOS MUERTOS (yay!)

 

Kids enjoy delicious, homemade meals before paying respects to their former loved ones. If there’s any sweets-eating going on, it’s those fantastic sugar skulls or drinks made mainly of pure chocolate. Mmmm.

 

In parties celebrating Dia de los Muertos, the entire town gets together to dance and sing and celebrate the spirits of those that have passed on. In some places, people actually spend the day worshipping the dead. That’s fuckin’ badass.

 

Dia de los Muertos: (mostly) Christianity-Free for thousands of years!

 

“My painstaking research on the subject has allowed me to reach these conclusions.” Magnifico lectures. “Which should show even the most retarded Halloween enthusiast that Dia de los Muertos is far, far superior to any other similar holiday.”

 

“Well, I hope my little presentation has made an impact on you.” ELM grins and puts his glasses back on. “Dia de los Muertos is celebrated on both November 1st and 2nd, so if you’re watching this at home, you should go out right now and don’t stop celebrating for about twenty-six hours.”

 

“Thank you for your time. Look into the rest of my informational videos, which include such selections as How to Border Jump and Night Fever, Night Fever: Do YOU Know How to Do It?.” Magnifico finishes, waving good-bye to whoever might be watching.

 

FADE OUT

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SWF Smarkdown: Halloween Edition returns live from the previous commercial break. Fans around the arena dress as their favorite SWF superstars and scream as the camera cuts down to Longdogger Pete, dressed as a hot dog and The Suicide King…who is trying to put his costume on.

 

“Welcome back, fans!” cries Pete, “Happy Halloween from all of us at the SWF and…King…WHAT are you doing?”

 

“I’m trying to put this damn costume on!”

 

“Jesus…”

 

Some weird robot music or some shit starts up as out comes GHOST RIDER! Or really, just Ghost Machine dressed as Ghost Rider. So instead of a machine, he is a rider. But is he even a machine? I don’t know.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall! First, making his way to the ring…accompanied by JL CRUNK! Weighing in at…”

 

But before Funyon can continue the announcement, “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins charges out from behind the curtain and bum rushes Ghost Machine! The crowd cheers as the number one contender to the SWF World Title throws a flurry of right hands at the forehead of the machine/cyborg/rider guy.

 

“Hey! Spike Jenkins isn’t in costume!”

 

“He’s also attacking Ghost Machine before the match started…”

 

“Oh…” realizes King, “That too.”

 

Spike grabs Ghost by the wrist and Irish whips him into the guardrail opposite of them…and without missing a beat, sends Ghost Machine into the other guardrail! Machine kneels over in pain, allowing Spike to grab him and drag him towards the ring.

 

“I think it’s safe to say that Spike Jenkins has officially snapped!”

 

“Yep.”

 

Spike throws his opponent into the ring apron, sending a shock of pain through the Machine’s spine. Spike pushes him underneath the bottom rope and into the ring, quickly following behind him as the bell is sounded.

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

“And this match is underway!” shouts Hot Dog Pete.

 

“Match? More like a beating!”

 

JL Crunk cries on the outside of the ring as his life partner gets the ever loving shit kicked out of him. Spike watches and Machine climbs to his feet, holding the back of his head…

 

 

 

 

 

…Which Spike aims for as he charges at him and CONNECT WITH A YOU’RE-A-GOD-DAMN-CYBORG-AND-I’M-GOING-TO-KILL-YOU-LARRRRRRRRIATTTOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 

“Lariat to the back of the head!”

 

The impact of the blow sends the Ghost Machine into a front flip, knocking all sense from his non-human like body. The impact of the lariat not only sent Ghost Machine inside out, but also got the attention of the SWF World Heavyweight Champion, El Luchador Magnifico, as he makes his way out towards the ring.

 

“Business is about to pick up!”

 

“As cliché as that might sound, it is true!”

 

But this time, Spike Jenkins is ready for him. Catching the eye of the champion, Spike peels Machine off the mat and locks him in a standing headscissors. Spike under-hooks both arms, lifts Machine up off the mat into the air, spins him around, and drives him face first into the mat with a Toxxic Shock Syndrome!

 

“The spinning pedigree! The Toxxic Shock Syndrome!” says Pete, “It’s all over!”

 

Spike turns Machine over to cover him…but quickly rolls off and out of the ring, as ELM starts to back track his steps up the ramp.

 

“El Luchador Magnifico was charging the ring!” points out Hotdogger Pete; “Spike broke the cover and is now outside the ring, challenging ELM to attack!”

 

Both the champion and the challenger share some choice words, as the referee begins to count Spike out.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SIX!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EIGHT!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NINE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

……….

 

 

 

 

 

TEN?!?!?!?!

 

*Ding Ding Ding*

 

“You have got to be kidding me!”

 

The bell is sounded as Spike Jenkins turns around to realize what has happened. He has lost again.

 

“Your winner…via COUNTOUT…GHOST MACHINE!!!”

 

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! GHOST MACHINE BEAT SPIKE JENKINS! THE NUMBER ONE CONTENDER TO THE TITLE!”

 

“Because El Luchador Magnifico was distracting him!”

 

“And the losing streak continues!”

 

ELM begins to walk up the ramp, laughing hysterically as Spikes’ eyes fill with burning anger. He climbs into the ring, walking straight toward the still knocked out from the Toxxic Shock Syndrome. The referee tries to get in Spikes’ way to stop him, but gets shoved down for his trouble!

 

“He hit a referee!” cries King, “Punish him!”

 

“This isn’t Lockdown, but you can defiantly expect a hefty fine for that.”

 

Spike reaches down for Ghost Machine, but instead snaps his leg out, connecting with the abdomen of the incoming JL Crunk! Spike pulls him into a standing headscissors and lifts him upside down off the mat. Spike hooks his legs around the flailing arms of Crunk and drops down, driving him face first into the mat with The Ratings Crash!

 

“Ratings Crash to JL Crunk!”

 

Spike jumps to his feet and kicks Crunk stiffly out of the ring. He turns his attentions back towards Machine, pulling him up off the mat and into a standing headscissors. Spike looks towards the entranceway and points at his opponent at Ashes 2 Ashes on Pay Per View.

 

“Another Ratings Crash to Ghost Machine!” sighs King.

 

But instead of picking Machine up by the waist, Spike under hooks both arms.

 

 

“OHHHHHH NOOOOOOOO!!!!”

 

“Oh my God! Not again!”

 

 

Spike pulls Machine up into the air for a tiger bomb, but quickly shifts underneath him, pulling him up into a reverse Death Valley Driver position…

 

 

 

 

 

 

…AND BURNING HAMMER!!!!

 

“I JUST BROKE YOUR NECK TO GHOST MACHINE!!!”

 

“Okay…NOW it is official. Spike Jenkins has SNAPPED!”

 

El Luchador Magnifico stares, eyes widened at the destruction just caused. Jenkins gets to his feet, looking towards ELM…who slowly backs away into the backstage area.

 

“Spike Jenkins has gone off the deep end,” begins Pete, “All of ELMs' mind games and the losing streak has caused him to destroy Ghost Machine!”

 

And with that, SWF Smarkdown cuts to a commercial break…

 

 

 

…But not before…

 

 

 

“Hey…didn’t Manson blow Spike Jenkins up on Lockdown?” asks King.

 

“If The Boston Strangler can no-sell a car, Spike Jenkins can no sell getting blown up.”

 

“Fuck Manson.”

 

“KING!”

 

“What?”

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[All Japanese dialogue is subtitled, and will be displayed in Italics]

 

*There is the faint, lilting sound of traditional Oriental music playing and the camera shot reveals Japanese painted screens. A couple of these are drawn back to reveal the bulky form of TORU Takahara, one half of the TKO tag team, sitting in front of a low wooden table.*

 

TORU: Good evening everyone, and welcome to Tales From The Land Of The Rising Sun. I am your guide and mentor, TORU Takahara. Tonight we will hear the ancient myth concerning two animals, the Hawk… and the Cockroach.

 

*TORU brings his hands up from beneath the table, holding painted wooden figures of a cockroach and a hawk perched on a branch. The big man sets them on the table with care, then folds his arms and begins speaking again.*

 

TORU: Back in the days of our father’s fathers there were many animals, both great and small. The Hawk was one of the Lords of the Air, and was counted as mighty by many. However, the Hawk was vain and could easily be persuaded to a course of action if he thought he could gain prestige from it. And so one day the Cockroach came along.

 

*TORU reaches back up and shuffles the painted wooden cockroach along the table until it is very near the hawk, then removes his hand and resumes his tale.*

 

TORU: The Cockroach was not a mighty creature, although his trickery had allowed him to do very well for himself. One of his tricks was a way with words, and on this day the Cockroach hailed the Hawk, seeking to find himself a powerful friend. The Hawk did not wish to listen at first, but soon the Cockroach’s words painted pictures of glory and power and he was drawn in. And so, unlikely as it seemed, they formed an alliance.

 

*TORU brings up two more painted figures, this time of traditionally-robed Japanese males. One is big with short hair and carries a hammer, the other is smaller with longer hair and carries what appears to be a large spike.*

 

TORU: The Cockroach’s tricks and the Hawk’s power soon won them a great treasure, but they were careless, for even as they celebrated their find two young princes stumbled across the same riches. The princes quickly saw that their claim to the treasure was greater than the Hawk and the Cockroach’s, so they took the wealth. This angered the Hawk and the Cockroach and they spent many days plotting how to get what they saw as their property back from the princes.

 

*TORU moves the cockroach and the hawk figures sneakily up behind the two human figures as he speaks.*

 

TORU: Finally, the Cockroach played his trick; by bribing a local fool to distract the kind-hearted princes they got them out of the way and the Hawk sneaked in to take the treasure back. However, the Cockroach was foolish and could not leave it at that, so instead he left the princes a message telling them what he had done. This was to be his undoing, for the wrath of the princes was terrible. They quickly gathered their hunting party and rode after the Cockroach and the Hawk, and in the end not even the wings of the Lord of the Air could outlast them. As they collapsed, exhausted, the Cockroach begged for mercy, but none was forthcoming…

 

*TORU stands up suddenly as the camera shot pulls back… then pulls a large hammer out from behind his back!*

 

TORU: TORU Hammer!

 

*TORU brings it down and smashes the painted cockroach into bits. Moments later KOJI appears beside him holding a large metal spike.*

 

KOJI: SPIIIIIIIKEUH!

 

*He slashes downwards with the spike and snaps the wooden hawk in half. TORU then leans forward and points into the camera.*

 

TORU: The moral of this story is simple…

 

 

“…DON’T FUCK WITH T! K! O!

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

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Smarkdownoween returns from yet another commercial break and goes straight to Longdogger Pete and the Suicide King at ringside. King looks like he’s having a hard time keeping the laughter under control, either he knows something the viewers don’t or he’s laughing at Pete dressed up as Wonder Woman complete with golden lasso and hairy shoulders.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen” King starts with a snigger “In Utah they have a … bwa, ha, ha, ha – I can’t explain it without laughing Pete, you take it”

 

“What the laughing loon over here is trying to explain is that coming up next we have a Hardcore title match, with some rather unique stipulations” Pete says trying his best to ignore King laughing in the background. “In Utah a lot of safety conscious parents have come up with a tradition called “Trunk or Treat”

 

“Yeah safety hi, hi, hi, hi” King gets in between laughing fits “It’s going to be so safe when Bruce Blank and Haffy have a fight right in the parking lot. And no one knows what’s going to happen Bwa, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

 

“Let’s go to the Bismarck Orthodox Presbyterian Chapel parking lot for this “Trunk or Treat” Hardcore title defence.” Pete quickly interjects as King slaps his thigh in amusement over the prank SWF will be playing on everyone in that parking lot tonight.

 

We cut to the parking lot where a camera guy is following Haffy as he enters the crowd of dressed up kids and adults. He’s got the full Crocodile Dundee gear on and he’s even lugging an inflatable crocodile under his right arm as he tries to make his way through the crowd, panning across the parking lot to see if he can spot his opponent anywhere.

 

“No it’s not a real Crocodile” he tells one inquisitive kid. “and I’m not Steve Irwin you dumbass! I’m Crocodile Dundee – haven’t your parents taught you anything!!” he yells at the kid in a “Pikachu” outfit tired of all of his annoying questions.

 

Haffy turns to the camera and throws it the Devil Horns hand gesture with a confident smirk, after all he’s yet to see Bruce Blank at all – he could win this thing without even throwing a punch. What Haffy isn’t aware of is that Bruce has entered the parking lot from the other side and is making his way through the crowd as well. The sight of Bruce with a thin moustache pencilled in, a frilly shirt, embroidered vest and a long formal, deep crimson stylish jacket on is something to behold – right out of the twilight zone, he even took a bath ohmy.gif

 

“Sign your what?” Bruce utters in surprise as someone actually asks him to autograph her “Gone with the Wind” paper bag, apparently Utah has not gotten word of Clark Gable’s death just yet.

 

Bruce quickly pushes the woman aside as he spots Haffy across the parking lot, then he begins to run as he sees his opponent head towards the nearest car trunk hoping to find the Hardcore title inside it. Haffy is totally focused on the trunk of the nearest car and doesn't actually see the 6'7'' mauler dressed up as Rhett Butler, as amazing as it sounds. Haffy whips the trunk open a split second before Bruce lands a big boot right upside his head sending the Crocodile Dundee look-a-like flying onto the grass and sends a bunch of kids and parents running in all directions.

 

“Look at the parents run Pete” King says as the two of them watch the surprised crowd react to the fight breaking out right in front of them.

 

“Most of the kinds aren’t running away through” Pete remarks. “Then again there is still plenty of candy left in those trunks”

 

Bruce pins Haffy against the ground with his knees and pounds away on him with lefts and rights to the face. Then when Bruce is reasonably sure that Haffy is dazed he drags the metal head back to his feet and swiftly lifts the much smaller man up and presses him over his head.

 

“If the South had this kind of power their side the ar may have ended differently” King quips.

 

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing??” Pete exclaims indignantly.

 

With Haffy pressed over his head Bruce takes 3-4 steps forward towards a silver Lexus and then unceremoniously drops Haffy head and chest first onto the trunk of the car. Haffy’s body bounces backwards off the metal lid and slams to the asphalt with a hollow thud. The impact from Haffy being dropped straight on it pops the trunk on the Lexus to reveal a huge load of candy

 

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH”

 

“Damn look at those kids” King remarks as a flock of about 20 kids rush for the trunk and then start to grab the candy for their trick or treat bags totally pushing Bruce out of the way by their sheer number.

 

“Is the belt in there?? I can’t see a thing” Pete says complaining about the camera angle..

 

Bruce tries to look into the trunk as well but the kids are all over it, pawing at the candy and blocking the view. The champion grabs a kid dressed as Tigger and another kid dressed as Frankenstein’s monster by the back of their costumes and lift them out of his way.

 

“Hey watch it jerkface!” The kid dressed like Tigger yells at Bruce as the big man pushes the kids out of the way.

 

“LET GO!!” the other kid screams and then proceeds to kick Bruce square in the nuts

 

“TIM-MY!! TIM-MY!! TIM-MY!! TIM-MY!!”

 

“Oh my god! The kids of today have no respect for anyone” King complains while Bruce doubles over in pain and the other kids cheer.

 

“Not like you huh King? I bet you were a good little “Suicide Prince” weren’t you? A nice little “Gambling Boy” am I right?” Pete says, needling his co-commentator.

 

“Shut up” is the wittiest reply the Suicide King can think off right now.

 

With Bruce distracted Haffy quickly checks out the trunk but is disappointed that the title isn’t in there. Haffy slams the trunk shut, climbs up on the trunk of the car and comes off with a missile drop kick that nails Bruce square in the chest. The impact of the 230 pound Haffy hitting Bruce in the chest knocks the big man backwards, slamming into the side of a red mini van.

 

*KERASH!!*

 

“HEY I JUST BOUGHT THAT CAR!!” One of the parents in the crowd yells out as Bruce’s impact dents the side of the van and cracks a window.

 

Haffy turns and stares at the parent with a steely expression. The mixture of his Crocodile Dundee outfit, his long hair and dirt and grit all over his skin is more than enough to scare the van owner into silence before Haffy turns his attention back onto Bruce.

 

“SPHYNCTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYRR!!!” With a quick devil horn’s signal, Haffy charges Bruce while yelling the name of his favourite band.

 

Bruce tries to trap Haffy by pulling the side door to the van open, but it misfires as Haffy is a step quicker than Bruce and tackles the big man and himself inside the van with a vicious spear instead. Then one of them reaches out and pulls the door shut.

 

“What’s going on?? Can you see what’s happening King?” Pete asks as the van begins to rock back and forth.

 

*WHAM!*

 

*THUD!*

 

“Do I have X-Ray vision or something” King asks. Then he looks down at his blue spandex outfit with a red cape and a big red “S” insignia on the chest

 

“Don’t answer that”

 

*POW!!*

 

*KERAASH!!*

 

 

The sound of fighting ceases and then moments later the door is thrown open and Haffy staggers out.

 

“Haffy gets the upper hand” Pete deduces quite loudly.

 

After a few steps Haffy drops to the ground as Bruce steps out of the van holding a busted rear view mirror in his hand.

 

“Wrong again! But what else is new” King replies.

 

Being in the driver’s seat gives Bruce the opportunity to open the trunk / rear door of the van in hopes of finding the title. With his previous experiences in mind Bruce quickly grabs the cardboard box of candy from the back of the van and tosses it at Haffy, sending candy bars and sweets flying everywhere.

 

“Jesh they’re like locusts swarming” King comments as he watches the kids run towards the box of candy and step on anything and everything that’s in their way, including Haffy.

 

“OW!! Don’t stand on my knee you shit!”

 

Bruce pops the trunk of yet another car as the kids stomp all over Haffy in their quest for candy. He stares into it, obviously the belt isn’t in there or he would have grabbed it but something has caught his attention.

 

“Alright who owns this car” Bruce asks the crowd of parents who are keeping a respectful distance to the brawl.

 

“It’s… it’s mine” a skinny guy with glasses admits as he raises his hand in the air.

 

“What is your major malfunction??” Bruce yells as he grabs an apple from the trunk and hurls it at the guy hitting him in the shoulder. Then he throws a wrapped Granola bar and a few more apples pelting the guy as the other parents duck out of the line of fire.

 

“What kind of IDIOT gives kids healthy stuff on Hallwoee” Bruce asks as he keeps pelting the guy with apples and granola bars.

 

“He’s right you know. Kids don’t want pennies or apples or miniature toothpaste” King comments.

 

“I… I agree, they can be healthy tomorrow” Pete chips in, in a tone that clearly indicates that Pete doesn’t like to agree with King on anything.

 

“Why thank you toots. Now go bake a cake or something” Pete says, dismissing “Wonder Pete” and his amazingly hairy cleavage.

 

Out of the corner of his eye Bruce catches a glimpse of a head of black hair with white stripes in it and quickly spins around, hands up ready to defend himself.

 

“What is that idiot doing” it pops out of Pete without him even realizing it.

 

“That’s… Lily Munster?” King says as he spots a girl in the classic “Mrs. Munster” wig and dress.

 

“Oh man Bruce is getting paranoid! That’s not Janus that’s just a girl who’s wig sorta looks like Janus’ hair – he’s losing it” Pete says.

 

While he may not have “lost it” Bruce has lost track of where Haffy is, which is a mistake he pays for as the Heavy Metal lover runs at the big man from behind, leaps up and Bulldogs Bruce’s head into the trunk lid of a car, busting Bruce open over the right eye from the impact. Eyeing an opening Haffy quickly opens the trunk of the car he bulledogged Bruce onto and then shoves Bruce inside a split second before slamming the trunk shut.

 

“Have fun big man!” Haffy says as he throws the devil horns in the direction of the trunk where Bruce is locked and then starts to search other car trunks for the title belt.

 

“This is a very clever strategy by Haffy, with Bruce trapped he’s got all the time in the world to find the belt and thus win the match” Pete says, admiring a good strategy.

 

“It’s devious, it’s clever and it’ll get him the win: it’s like I came up with the plan myself” King follows up as the microphone picks up Bruce hammering on the trunk from the inside.

 

*BAM!*

 

*BAM!*

 

*BAM!*

 

“Let me out of here!!”

 

*BAM!*

 

*BAM!*

 

Haffy pops yet another trunk, but is disappointed to find nothing but candy in it. He ignores the cries and bangs as Bruce is trying his best to break out of the trunk.

 

*BAM!*

 

*BAM!*

 

“I’M NOT KIDDING!! LET ME OUT NOW!!”

 

*BAM!*

 

Haffy just chuckles to himself as he heads for another car, another trunk, another chance at winning the Hardcore title.

 

*BAM!*

 

“Hey what’s this?”

 

Haffy stops for a moment as he hears that comment from the trunk.

 

“I’m laying on something REALLY uncomfortable, it’s like there is some metal under this blanket, and it’s poking me like barbwire.” Bruce says.

 

“That’s… Bruce has found the title” Pete says excitedly.

 

Haffy has come to the same conclusion and quickly runs over to the trunk Bruce is locked in. After contemplating his actions for a moment he finally decides that he has to risk it and opens the trunk.

 

*THUD!!*

 

He was prepared for Bruce trying to fool him, but he wasn’t prepared for Bruce swinging the spare tire at him, nailing the Australian right in the forehead with the inflated rubber. Haffy falls backwards against another car holding his forehead which now has a thread mark across is from the impact.

 

“Man you are gullible Pete. Would you like to buy some Florida Swamp land too?” King says mocking Longdogger Pete’s naïve comments.

 

Bruce rises from the trunk and steps back on the asphalt with the cross style lug nut iron in his hand, staring straight at Haffy with evil intentions in mind. Bruce’s riding boots echo in the eerie silence of the Utah night, no one dares say anything in fear of Bruce turning his attention towards them instead of Haffy. Bruce raises the cross lug nut and then throws it at Haffy, aiming for his head.

 

*PLOOOONG!!*

 

Haffy sits there, leaned back against the side of a car with his eyes as wide as a barn door as he stares at the lug nut wrench impaled in the side of the car just a few inches from his head. Bruce stomps the ground in anger over missing his intended target and then looks around for something else to hit Haffy with. Haffy shakes off the shock, grabs the lug nut iron and leaps to his feet while tossing the tire iron back at Bruce in one swift motion.

 

“HA you missed” Bruce boasts as the cross iron flies right past his head.

 

“You forget something” Haffy says with a smirk.

 

“Wh” is all Bruce gets out before the tire iron comes flying back and hitting the big man in the back with the impact of a brick falling off a tall building.

 

*THUD*

 

“I know a thing or two about boomerangs” Haffy explains before he runs towards Bruce, breaks off a slim antenna and then rings the narrow flexible piece of metal down across Bruce’s back in a whip motion.

 

*WOOOO-PISH!!*

 

Then he quickly whips Bruce with the antenna once more across the back, shredding Bruce’s jacket, vest and shirt and drawing a long, thin streak of blood across Bruce’s skin.

 

“Like a scolded dog!” Pete says with distaste

 

“Oh quiet now JR” King just replies, warning Longdogger Pete before he can infringe a WWE trademark.

 

Haffy grabs Bruce’s torn jacket and vest and pulls both forward over Bruce’s head using the fabric to blind Bruce as the smaller Australian takes charge of the match. With Bruce temporarily blindfolded Haffy climbs up on the roof of a mini van, making sure Bruce is in the right position before he flips off the roof backwards moonsaulting himself onto Bruce

 

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

Several of the kids in the crowd actually forget the candy gathering and start to watch the match even though most parents are trying to drag their kids away from the fight and out of harms way.

 

Haffy is quickly back on his feet and starts to stomp on Bruce, preventing the big man from untangling himself from the torn jacket and vest that’s blocking his view.

 

“I’m surprised that Haffy isn’t using this time to look in the trunks, that’s how you win it” Pete comments.

 

“Maybe he just likes to hurt people?” King points out “or maybe it’s an Australian thing – what the hell do I know? If he can knock Bruce out, even if it’s for a short time he stands a better chance of checking out the trunks.”

 

Haffy finally stops his attack on Bruce and turns his attention back to the trunks and heads for the next car. Haffy pulls the handle but the trunk is locked, which pisses him off no end, it could be all that’s standing between him and Hardcore title glory.

 

“Who has the key!” He yells at the dwindling crowd, but doesn’t get a response. “Okay who has the key??” he repeats.

 

“If no one has a key I’ll have to break it open” Haffy points out, giving the owner a chance to save his car.

 

With Haffy’s attention turned towards getting the trunk unlocked Bruce has managed to pull off his torn jacket and shredded vest and is back on the prowl. Haffy turns around and manages to duck under a clothesline from Bruce, but he’s not fast enough to avoid a kick to the stomach from the big man.

 

“POOOOOOOOOOOOWER BOMB!!” King says excitedly as Bruce flips Haffy up on his shoulders and then power bombs him onto the hood of one of the cars in the parking lott.

 

*BAM!!*

 

Then the big man quickly turns around, finds a piece of metal in one of the trunks they have already looked at and picks it up. Bruce heads towards the locked trunk when a worried owner runs towards him, holding the keys in the air offering to open the trunk.

 

“Too late Scooter, you had your chance” Bruce mutters as he smashes the piece of metal against a rear light, busting it on impact. Then he jams the long piece of metal under the trunk lid and begins to pry it open, scratching the paint and bending the metal until it pops open.

 

“All that work for nothing? OH COME ON!” King exclaims as Bruce comes up empty.

 

“How many more cars can there be in the parking lot?” Pete asks

 

“I don’t know – why don’t you run down there and count them” King quips, hoping his co-commentator would take the suggestion seriously.

 

Bruce notices that Haffy has gotten off the hood where he was Power Bombed and moves in before his opponent can shake the cob webs. Grabbing his opponent by his long hair Bruce quickly throws Haffy face first into a side view mirror, shattering the mirror and cutting Haffy in several pieces with the little slivers of mirror that was sent flying everywhere.

 

Bruce’s expression turns down right demented as he sees the blood on his opponents face. Then he grabs Haffy by the hair once more, points to the side window of a car and runs at it dragging Haffy along by the hair.

 

*KRESSHH!*

 

Haffy’s forehead breaks the glass and busts the young man open even more, much to the delight of the Trailerpark Messiah himself. Bruce looks at the cars around him, obviously trying to figure out what he can do to inflict the most pain on Haffy. Bruce grabs Haffy by the hair once more, readies himself to smash Haffy into the side of a Volkswagen when he suddenly stops dead in his tracks and just stares at a creature dressed in black and white.

 

“COME ON BRUCE!! It’s just a guy dressed as a skunk!!” King yells at the monitor, maybe he thinks that Bruce can actually hear him all the way downtown.

 

“Janus is so far inside his head he’s tapping on the back of Bruce’s eyeballs” Pete says while playing arm chair psychologist.

 

The distraction costs Bruce dearly as Haffy reverses the intended move and slams Bruce’s head straight into the side window of the Volkswagen, shattering the glass into a million pieces. Then Haffy quickly grabs Bruce and whips him towards the hood of a Trans Am, Bruce’s momentum carries him forward, slamming his legs into the grill of the car, flipping his body up onto the hood and sending him back first into and THROUGH the front windscreen with a loud crash

 

*CRASH!!*

 

“That… was… sick” is all Pete can say.

 

The shards of glass still stuck in the window frame are covered in blood from where Bruce was torn to shreds. After that last move most parents have finally picked up their kids and taken them away, abandoning their cars in the parking lot. Haffy just smiles through the blood, throws the devil’s horn and headbangs to celebrate the damage he just inflicted on Bruce.

 

“Focus Haffy!! Focus – yes you turned him into mince meat but that’s not how you win the match” King says, turning into a manager instead of a commentator for a second.

 

Haffy opens the Trans Am door, then he grabs one of Bruce’s beefy arms and begins to drag the blood soaked body out of the car. The sight of Bruce’s arm and back would make most people queasy but Haffy isn’t “most people” and instead keeps up the attack. He drags Bruce into position half way out of the car and then

 

*WHACK!*

 

“He slammed the car right on Bruce’s arm and neck!! I’m not sure if there will be anything left for Janus King” Pete says.

 

“They’re just superficial wounds, no biggie” King calmly says to dismiss the notion

 

“Superficial?? I think I can see a tendon in Bruce’s forearm!” Pete replies angrily.

 

Now that he is sure that Bruce is totally incapacitated Haffy finally turns his attention towards the car trunks once more. Haffy pops the nearest one and then begins to dig through the bags of candy to see if the barbwire wrapped, blood stained title belt is in there. After making sure it’s not in the trunk Haffy goes on to the next trunk.

 

In the background to Haffy’s trunk search we see a blood soaked and cut Bruce slowly drag himself out of the Trans Am and flop onto the asphalt.

 

“Man he looks bad and since it’s not in the arena but at the Bismarck Orthodox Presbyterian Chapel parking lot SWF doesn’t have any EMTs standing by” Pete says as they both watch in horror.

 

“And why not? it’s an Ultra Violent title match with Bruce involved – they should have at LEAST 2 ambulances on standby at any time” King complains

 

“So run to the back and call them” Pete fires back.

 

Haffy opens yet another trunk, then he throws a Jack’O’Lantern over his shoulder as he starts to pull crap from the trunk looking for the elusive belt. With Haffy’s attention on the title chase Bruce has enough time to gets his bearings straight and get back to his feet. The blood loss combined with… well no it’s just the blood loss, makes Bruce a bit unsteady on his feet and he has to lean against the roof of a long white stretch limo at the rear of the parking lot.

 

“I hope Haffy has half an eye on Bruce right now” Pete points out “Or he could end up in serious trouble if he lets the big man have enough time to recover”

 

“Do you have like a direct link to Haffy’s mind” King asks when Haffy does exactly what Pete was talking about and turns his attention back towards Bruce Blank.

 

Haffy grabs Bruce by the back of the head and the shredded sleeve of his shirt and tries to throw him up on the hood of the stretch limo that’s escaped damage so far, but the blood soaked hair is impossible to keep a good grip on and Bruce quickly pushes Haffy off him sending the Metal Head knee first into the hood of the limo.

 

“I’m not sure our insurance underwriter will cover the help all these kids and parents need to get over the brutal display” Pete comments as Bruce flips Haffy up on the hood.

 

“Oh bu-hu. It’s Halloween, just think of this as a SWF Trick! Besides most of them have left the parking lot by now” King replies.

 

Only a handful of sick and twisted individuals are left in the parking lot, watching as Bruce climbs up on the hood of the car and picks up Haffy.

 

*WHAM!*KRRSH!!*

 

Bruce quickly body slams Haffy onto the roof, shattering more than one window of the stretch limo. Then he steps up on the roof, wipes his bloody hands on his pants and then picks Haffy up in a suplex position and then stalls as Haffy is held upside down.

 

“He… no Bruce not the Blank Bomb! You’ll cripple him” Pete pleads, but of course Bruce cannot hear him in the parking lot and it’s not a guarantee that it would have stopped Bruce from doing what he’s about to do anyway.

 

In fact if Bruce had heard Pete’s plead he would have most likely commented “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn”

 

Bruce shifts his weight and drops Haffy straight down, but not with his back towards Bruce for the Blank Bomb, instead he drops Haffy straight down as Bruce sits down into a tombstone move.

 

*BLAM!!*

 

“OH MY GOD!!” King yells out

 

“Haffy is dead! Bruce just drove his skull into the metal with Janus’ trademark move the “Rage Unleashed”!! My god he’s sending a clear message to Janus” Pete says still in shock of the brutality of Bruce’s actions.

 

Bruce rolls off the roof and lands on his feet, holding onto the door for support as the move clearly took a lot out of Bruce as well. Bruce stares at Haffy for a moment as his opponent lays on the roof, the metal bent around his body from the impact, Haffy not moving an inch. Then Bruce rips the tattered shirt off his back and uses the part that’s not already soaked with blood to wipe his eyes before he starts to stagger towards the back of the limo, heading straight for the trunk.

 

“Haffy is out, Bruce looks like he’s almost out on his feet – I think we might need two ambulances by the time this match is over” Pete remarks as they both watch the Ultra Violent champion stagger around the parking lot, amazed that he’s able to stand up.

 

“You got to commend him for keeping his eye on the ball though, just cause he took Haffy down doesn’t mean the match is won yet. He has to find the title” King reminds everyone.

 

Bruce walks down the side of the limo, leaving streaks of blood every time he brushes up against the white metal as he makes his way to the hood. Bruce puts his hand on the handle, then closes his eyes as if he’s saying a quick, silent prayer and then he opens the trunk.

 

“Oh thank f*cking god” Bruce says as he sees the barbwire wrapped Ultra Violent title in the trunk. In the distance the sound of an approaching siren is heard as Bruce puts his bloody hand on the title and claims it to win the match.

 

“BRUCE RETAINS!! Bruce gets through another brutal and bloody title defence.” King trumpets

 

“He wins tonight, but now he’s got Janus stalking him.” Pete points out. “He’s hardly out of harms way just because he managed to retain the title”

 

Bruce looks up as he hears the sirens and then looks around the parking lot to survey the lay of the land. He quickly walks back to the front of the stretch limo, opens the door and gets in the drivers seat. The camera guy gets up real close to the window and catches Bruce searching for the car keys but with no luck.

 

In the background the sirens get louder and louder until a police car is seen in the distance.

 

“Shit someone called the cops!” King says as he instinctively checks over his shoulder.

 

Bruce finally finds the keys to the car and quickly starts it. Then he hauls ass out of the parking lot, going in the opposite direction of where the police car is coming, not caring that Haffy is still embedded on the roof.

 

“Erm… I wonder if SWF would post bail since it was their match idea?” Pete ponders as the feed cuts from the parking lot back to the arena.

 

“They never did for m… I mean I don’t know, very interesting thought Pete” King replies “But it’s never a dull night when the SWF is in town, not even in Utah” King says to wrap up the segment.

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“Welcome back to this special Halloween edition of SWF Smarkdown!” exclaims Longdogger Pete. “King, after a big win over TORU Takahara last week on Lockdown, Wildchild will be looking to give Jay Hawke a trick tonight, as he treats himself to the International Championship!”

 

“For crying out loud,” grumbles the Suicide King, “can you stop with the stupid puns already? How many more times am I going to have to listen to you making stupid ‘trick or treat’ puns?”

 

“Well,” replies Pete with a grin, “that depends: how many more matches do we have left?”

 

“AUGH!”

 

“Well, while the Suicide King attempts to calm down,” continues Pete, “let’s get back to talking about the match; King, Jay Hawke has held onto that International Title with an death grip, but Wildchild has had some individual success against him in the past, and will undoubtedly be looking to get a little payback against one-half of the team that ended his fourth Tag Title reign!”

 

“Having success against a guy in singles competition when a title isn’t at stake, and when a title IS at stake, are two totally different animals,” refutes King. “Wildchild may have been able to get a couple of fluke wins against Jay Hawke in the past, but he’s never had to face a Jay Hawke that’s as focused as he is right now… and, let’s not forget that Wildchild isn’t the only one in this match that wants to get some payback; like you said, Hawke has come up short against Wildchild before, so you’d best believe that he’s going to be motivated to come out strong!”

 

“Well, adding something of a different dimension to this match will be the Halloween atmosphere,” notes Pete. “King, word was passed down to the locker room that all of the wrestlers scheduled to compete tonight on Smarkdown were to wear some kind of costume. And, to put it mildly, some wrestlers accepted that edict more readily than others.”

 

“Jay Hawke, in particular, has been very vocal about this,” says King, “and who could blame him? I mean, he’s a serious wrestler, and Smarkdown is supposed to be the SWF’s preeminent wrestling show; the talent should have to degrade themselves by prancing around in silly costumes. I can’t believe that Flesher would allow this to happen on his show!”

 

“Well, King, much to the chagrin of you and Taamo,” replies Pete, “even the great Thomas Flesher has to answer to people above him; and if they tell him, ‘Tom, we want the wrestlers in costumes on Halloween,’ then there’s not much that he can do about it!”

 

“I just hope that Jay Hawke’s costume doesn’t restrict his movement too much,” says King. “I understand that he arrived at the arena today without a costume, so he was sent to wardrobe and ordered to wear whatever they picked out for him!”

 

“King, it’s nobody’s fault but his for not bringing a costume to the arena,” says Pete. “The memo was distributed last week, before the wrestlers left Fargo!”

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

King and Pete’s bickering is cut short, as the sound of the timekeeper’s bell calls everyone’s attention to the ring. Funyon, now dressed like a bag of Doritos, raises the microphone to his lips and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest, scheduled for one fall, is for the SWF International Championship!”

 

 

RAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

The fans in the Bismarck Civic Center begin to cheer excitedly as “Pomp and Circumstance” begins to play. Melissa Fasaki walks out onto the stage, wearing a spectacular black evening gown. She stands slightly stage left, waving her arms as would a presenter on a television game show, and suddenly, out bursts the Bahama Bomber, looking like we’ve never seen him before! His unbraided hair is wrapped tight beneath an aquamarine bandana, and obnoxiously large tinted goggles obscure his eyes. A penciled-in beard covers his face from ear to ear. He is covered from his shoulders to his ankles by a flamboyant aquamarine, gold and black sequined cape that hangs over his shoulders, covering his front almost as a robe would. Wildchild extends his arms and spins around for the fans to admire his costume, and then raises one hand in the air, twirling his index finger in the air, in homage to wrestler he is dressed as tonight.

 

“Introducing first,” booms Funyon, “being accompanied to the ring by the First Lady of the SWF, Melissa Fasaki…”

 

“What?” bellows King.

 

“Is the challenger! Hailing tonight from Sarasota, Florida…”

 

“Oh, for crying out loud!”

 

 

“… And weighing in at two hundred fourteen pounds, here is: ‘MACHO MAN’ DOMINIC LECROIX!”

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” exclaims King. “He CANNOT be serious!”

 

“King, how can you get so upset about Wildchild getting into the spirit of Halloween?” Pete asks mirthfully. “And it’s obvious that the fans are getting a kick out of it, too!” Wildchild slides into the ring and runs to a nearby corner, hopping onto the middle ropes and pointing out into the crowd, who cheer even louder as he raises his arm to twirl his index finger once more.

 

“This is ridiculous!” growls King. “He’s taking this way too far; I mean, claiming to be from Sarasota? Anybody who’s been watching the SWF since before yesterday KNOWS that he’s from the Bahamas! Hell, he’s still wearing Bahaman colors!”

 

“Well King, to be fair, Funyon did say that he was hailing ‘tonight’ from Sarasota,” replies Pete, as Wildchild makes his rounds of the ring. “And we know that Melissa resides in Sarasota… perhaps Wildchild is just coming from her house…”

 

“Damn it, MacDougal, don’t encourage them!” shouts King. Wildchild finally hops down from the turnbuckles and removes his cape, handing it over the top rope to a ring attendant, as “Pomp and Circumstance” fades out. He then removes the goggles and walks around the ring, teasing each side of the ring with possibly throwing the goggles out their way, when Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” begins to play.

 

“And, his opponent,” says Funyon, “from the Hall-of-Fame city of Cleveland, Ohio, and weighing in tonight at two hundred thirty-one pounds…”

 

“Two thirty-one?” asks a bewildered King. “How did Hawke put on sixteen pounds in five days?”

 

“Here is,” continues Funyon, “the SWF International Champion… the Dean of Professional Wrestling, JAAAAAY HAAAAAWKE!”

 

 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 

 

And suddenly, it is clear to everyone how Hawke could gain sixteen pounds in five days. For the International Champion has been relegated to wearing the costume of Cincinnati Reds mascot Mister Red, complete with enormous baseball-shaped head mask!

 

“This is horrible, MacDougal!” roars King. “Jay Hawke is the International Champion; he shouldn’t have to be humiliated in this manner!”

 

“I don’t know, King,” says LDP. “I think that Jay is making this out to be a lot worse than he has to…”

 

“It’s horrible!” insists King. “How is he supposed to wrestle with that monstrosity on his head? And, as if it’s not bad enough that he HAS to dress up in the first place, they make him wear Cincinnati colors? A guy from Cleveland dressed up like a Red? That’s sacrilege!”

 

Jay Hawke walks tenuously down the ramp, having difficulty moving with the mammoth Mister Red mask on, as it is, when a well-meaning youngster reaches over the barricade to touch the mask, causing Hawke to lose his balance and pitch forward, nearly falling on his ‘face.’

 

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

 

 

The fans surrounding the barricade get a good laugh at Hawke’s expense, leading the Dean to rip the giant baseball off of his head, and suddenly charge towards the fan, practically lunging over the barricade, and only barely held back by arena security.

 

“Wow!” says Pete. “Jay Hawke seems to be a little upset!”

 

“As well he should be!” replies King. “That little punk could have seriously injured him!” Having been forcibly separated from the fan, Hawke continues on to the ring, conspicuously refusing to put the mask back on. He skulks unceremoniously to the ring and steps between the ropes, removing his Championship belt and surrendering it to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington. “Learning to Fly” fades out as Funyon exits the ring, and Herrington hands him the belt as he heads back to his seat, before signaling the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“Bell’s gone,” says Pete, “and we’re underway!” Wildchild and Jay Hawke circle each other before meeting in the center of the ring for a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Hawke muscles Wildchild back into a neutral corner, forcing Red Herrington to order a clean break. Jay raises his hands and steps back from the corner, but then attempts to catch Wildchild unawares with a sucker punch, only for the Bahama Bomber to block with his left forearm and then blast Hawke with an elbow smash between the eyes! Wildchild springs out of the corner, grabbing Hawke by the wrist and whipping him into the ropes, leveling him with a stiff back elbow smash as he bounces off the ropes! Hawke rolls out of the ring to gather himself, and Wildchild continues to taunt him, racing to a nearby corner and leaping onto the middle ropes, where he continues to mimic Savage’s mannerisms by twirling his finger in the air.

 

“Boy, Wildchild’s really getting into the spirit of this,” remarks Pete. “It’s like he’s actually channeling the Macho Man!”

 

“Oh god,” groans King. “Somebody please shoot me now!” Herrington begins to deliver a ten-count on Hawke as he paces outside the ring, the Champion returns short of the four-count. He scrambles back to his feet and walks over towards Wildchild, under the pretense of locking up, only to stun him with an eye rake. Herrington admonishes Hawke as he grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him across the ring, lowering his head to deliver a back-body drop, but the Human Hurricane slams on the brakes and then stuns Hawke with a stiff kick to the solar plexus! Wildchild picks Hawke up and drops him back down to the canvas with a Scoop Slam, and then quickly steps out onto the apron, running to the nearby corner and leaping onto the top turnbuckle.

 

“Somebody needs to put a stop to this, before we get sued for gimmick infringement,” mumbles King. Wildchild raises both arms skyward as he waits for Hawke to get back to his feet, and then pounces from the top turnbuckle, blasting the Dean between the eyes with a flying double-axe handle! Wildchild sneaks up behind Jay and charges him from across the ring, knocking the Dean into the ropes with a running knee strike to the back! He then races back across the ring, picking up speed as he bounces off the ropes and rushes back towards Hawke, leaping into the air and landing in a seated position on the Champion’s back!

 

“Macho Man lowers the boom to the International Champion!” exclaims LDP. “And the Champ once again has to head for higher ground!”

 

“Macho Man?” asks King incredulously. “Please tell me that you didn’t just say that…”

 

“Sorry,” Pete says sheepishly. “I got caught up in the moment!” Wildchild runs to the corner and leaps onto the top turnbuckle, steadying himself to drop down on Jay Hawke, when suddenly the Dean alertly grabs nearby Melissa Fasaki, and holds her in front of him like a shield!

 

“Hah!” snorts King, as Wildchild drops down from the turnbuckles. “Quick thinking by the Champion, using Melissa as a shield; no way Wildchild was going to try and take her out, too!” Wildchild slings himself over the top rope down to the arena floor, alternating between pointing menacingly at Hawke and holding his arms out at his sides. Deciding upon a plan of action, Jay shoves Melissa in Wildchild’s direction, and then runs off in the other direction! Wildchild catches Melissa to prevent her from falling, and then takes off in hot pursuit, but Hawke beats the challenger back inside the ring, and welcomes him in with a series of stomps to the back of the head! Jay pulls Wildchild to his feet and holds his head low as he reaches back with his right arm…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

… And sends Wildchild flying backwards with a stiff European Uppercut!

 

 

“Look at Hawke lay in those uppercuts!” praises King, as Jay delivers two more. He then grabs Wildchild by the back of the head and leads him over to a corner to slam his face into the top turnbuckle, but the Caribbean Cruiser turns the tables on him, blocking the attempt with his foot and ramming Hawke’s face into the turnbuckle instead! Hawke staggers out of the corner, but retaliates with a hard right hand, only to be drilled by the quick right jab of the Wildchild!

 

WHAM!

BAP!

WHAM!

BAP!

WHAM!

BAP!

BAP!

BAP!

 

Wildchild begins to knock Jay back with his piston-like jabs, and Hawke attempts to re-establish control with a wild haymaker, but the Bahama Bomber ducks, grabbing Hawke from behind as he over-rotates through the punch attempt, and lifts him into the air, lowering him onto his outstretched knee and compressing his spine with an Atomic Drop!

 

“Swing and a miss by the Champion, and he eats an Atomic Drop!” shouts Pete. “That’s chiropractic city!” Wildchild grabs the staggering Hawke by the back of the head and leads him across the ring to the opposite corner, and proceeds to ram the Champion’s face repeatedly into the top turnbuckle, with the fans in the Bismarck Civic Center counting along:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

SEVEN!

 

EIGHT!

 

NINE!

 

TEN!

 

 

After ten, Wildchild releases Jay’s head, and the International Champion stumbles backwards a few steps, before falling to the mat! Wildchild looks out into the crowd and raises an arm, twirling his finger above his head to inspire another wave of cheers:

 

 

YAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“Macho’s going to the top!” cries Pete, as Wildchild steps out onto the apron. “If he hits this, we could have a new champion!”

 

“Damn it, MacDougal,” roars King, “stop calling him that!” Wildchild quickly ascends to the top turnbuckle and holds both arms over his head, waiting patiently for Jay Hawke to rise, so that he can deliver another devastating double-axe handle. He leaps fearlessly from his perch as Hawke returns to his feet…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… But the Dean has the move well scouted and steps to one side, burying a fist into Wildchild’s midsection as he plummets to the canvas!

 

“Jay Hawke with a desperation move to avoid that double-axe handle, King,” exclaims Pete, “or this one may have been history!”

 

“Excellent presence of mind by the Champion to move out of the way,” agrees King, as Hawke begins stomping heavily at Wildchild’s shoulders and upper back. “Now we’ll see what Wildchild can do, now that Hawke has him where he wants him!”

 

“Wow, but look at the Champion, King!” notes Pete. “He’s bleeding! I think those turnbuckle shots may have busted his nose!” Hawke finally notices the bleeding himself, checking his nose with the back of his hand for the severity of it. Enraged, he gruffly pulls Wildchild to his feet and traps him in a hammerlock, before pushing him into a nearby corner, jamming his shoulder into the top turnbuckle!’

 

“Wildchild made the mistake of getting Jay Hawke fired up!” says King, as Hawke reapplies the hammerlock, and then scoops Wildchild up off the canvas. “And now he gets him with a hammerlock slam! He’s already setting up for that Wing Span, MacDougal!”

 

“Well, if he locks it in, it’ll be tough luck for the challenger,” replies Pete, as Hawke traps Wildchild in a heel hold. “And it looks like Jay Hawke may be setting up for some kind of submission right here!”

 

“An STF, most likely,” remarks King, as Hawke twists Wildchild’s body into position. “Yes, definitely an STF; I don’t think that he’ll get a submission here, with the relative lack of punishment that Wildchild’s taken so far, but this move will put tremendous pressure on the back, and make Wildchild that much more vulnerable to the Wing Span!”

 

“Well, it’s like you’ve pointed out before, King, sometimes you have to do certain things in order to create openings for other things,” concedes LDP, as Jay Hawke applies pressure to the punishing hold. Herrington drops to his knees and looks into Wildchild’s eyes, asking him if he wants to give up, but the challenger aggressively shakes his head no!

 

“Wildchild’s trying to gut this out,” says Pete, “but he needs to find a way out of this move before he sustains some serious damage!” Melissa Fasaki looks on with a concerned expression from the arena floor as, throughout the Bismarck Civic Center, a rallying cry begins for the Bahama Bomber:

 

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

 

The energy of the fans cheers begin to give rise to a surge of adrenaline through Wildchild’s veins, and he begins to fight and claw his way towards the ropes!

 

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, DUB CEE! LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

 

“Wildchild is drawing energy from the nearly twelve thousand people here in the Bismarck Civic Center!” shouts Pete. “But will it be enough for him to make it to the ropes?” Wildchild continues to struggle and strain as he attempts to drag the International Champion along with him to the edge of the ring, and freedom. He looks up to see that he’s now less than two feet away.

 

“I don’t think so,” replies King. “Jay Hawke’s got that STF pretty much locked in; Wildchild may have to find a way to counter this hold to have a chance… And I don’t think he can!” Now, under a foot from the edge of the ring, Wildchild appears to run out of energy, and comes to a stop just short of the ropes! Herrington drops back to his knees to check on Wildchild and, seeing no signs of movement, lifts up his arm to begin the obligatory three-count, watching as the challenger’s arm falls to the canvas once.

 

“Hah!” snorts King. “That’s once; and I didn’t think that Hawke would get the submission out of this move!” Herrington raises Wildchild’s hand once more, and watches as it falls to the canvas.

 

“That’s two,” says Pete. “One more time, and this match is over!”

 

 

let’s go ma-cho, let’s go! clap! clap!

Let’s go ma-cho, let’s go! Clap! Clap

Let’s Go Ma-Cho, Let’s Go! Clap! Clap!

LET’S GO, MA-CHO, LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

 

“King, do you believe this? Listen to the fans; they’re cheering for the Macho Man!”

 

“The fans are delusional,” replies King. “They must put some kind of hallucinogenic in the water up here!”

 

LET’S GO, MA-CHO, LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, MA-CHO, LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, MA-CHO, LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

LET’S GO, MA-CHO, LET’S GO! *CLAP! CLAP!*

 

 

Red Herrington raises Wildchild’s hand a third time and lets it go, but this time, the hand stays in the air! A second burst of adrenaline surges through Wildchild, and he lunges desperately towards the edge of the ring, just barely able to snake two fingers around the bottom rope!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“He did it!” exclaims Pete. “The Macho Man made it to the ropes!”

 

“How many times do I have to tell you,” bellows King, as he roughly grabs Pete by the arm, “STOP CALLING HIM MACHO MAN!”

 

Herrington orders Hawke to release the hold, and the Champion reluctantly pulls Wildchild to his feet, only for the Tropical Tumbler to surprise him with a headbutt to the nose, sending blood spraying from his face! Jay attempts to punch Wildchild, but the challenger blocks with his left hand, and hits him with a hard right of his own! Another punch by the Champion blocked, and another punch by the challenger landed!

 

“Look at him fire back!” shouts Pete, as Wildchild continues to punch away at Jay Hawke. “Elbow smash to the face finds the mark! And another one! He’s got the Champion reeling, King!”

 

“Well, I don’t know where Wildchild got this extra energy from,” says a surprised King, “but he’s fighting an uphill battle right now!” Wildchild races to the ropes to come back with a running elbow smash, but Hawke sidesteps him, and buries a kneelift into his midsection!

 

“There!” proclaims King. “One move by Jay Hawke is all it takes to put down Wildchild’s little insurrection!” Hawke pulls Wildchild to his feet and pushes him back into the corner, where he batters the challenger’s face with hard right hands!

 

“Jay Hawke regaining control of the match,” says Pete, “and now it looks like he’s trying to get some payback on the Wildchild; he may be trying to break Wildchild’s nose, King! He won’t even let him breathe” Wildchild slumps down to the canvas, and Hawke begins kicking him viciously in the face until Red Herrington orders him out of the corner. Hawke abruptly brushes the referee’s hands off his shoulders, spinning around to face the crowd as they begin to boo him:

 

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

JAY HAWKE SUCKS!

 

“Herrington has no right to do that!” growls King, as Hawke screams back at the crowd in response. “I didn’t see him making any attempt to call Wildchild off when he was ramming Jay Hawke’s face into the turnbuckles; this guy needs to be suspended for his biased officiating!” Hawke storms back over to where Wildchild is attempting to get back to his feet, and the Bahama Bomber stuns him with a punch to the midsection! And then follows it up with a quick right jab to the nose, sending another squirt of blood flying!

 

“Jay Hawke is punishing Wildchild right now, but Wildchild continues to fire back!” Wildchild gets back to his feet, and raises both arms above his head to deliver a running double-axe handle, but the Champion stops his movement with a boot to the midsection! Taking advantage of his stunned opponent, Hawke scoops Wildchild up off of the canvas and slings him over his shoulder, only to drop the challenger onto his outstretched thigh for a ferocious shoulder breaker!

 

“Shoulder breaker, and well executed!” shouts Pete. “And Jay Hawke’s going for the cover; this could be it!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR— NO!

 

 

“Not quite,” yells LDP. “Wildchild was just able to kick out!” Hawke quickly pulls Wildchild back to his feet, only to slam him down again with a Scoop Slam, and then steps back into the ropes, leaping into the air as he bounces off to deliver a ferocious legdrop! Hawke rolls over to apply another lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR—

 

 

Wildchild once again kicks out at two! Hawke pulls Wildchild to his feet, driving a couple of knee strikes into the side of his head on the way up, and then whips him into the ropes, lowering his head as he rebounds to deliver a back-body drop, but the Human Hurricane leaps over the Champion, wrapping both arms around his waist and pulling him into a Sunset Flip!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Jay Hawke kicks out easily at two and beats Wildchild to his feet, knocking him down with a well-timed leg lariat!

 

“Every time Wildchild tries to fight his way back into this match, Jay Hawke finds a way to shut him down!” Jay pulls Wildchild back to his feet and traps him in an inverted front facelock, only to drop down to his knee, driving the back of Wildchild’s head into it!

 

“Hawke puts Wildchild down with some kind of reverse neckbreaker,” says Pete, as Jay steps out onto the apron. “And it looks like he’s going to the top!”

 

“I know what he’s going for,” adds King. “He’s going for that suicide headbutt; if he scores to Wildchild’s shoulder, he’s going to go right for the Wing Span!” Hawke taunts the crowd, which responds with boos, before stiffening his body as he leaps from the top turnbuckle down into the ring…

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… But only connects with the canvas, as Wildchild moves out of the way!

 

 

RAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“Nobody home!” exclaims Pete. “Wildchild was just able to move out of the way!” With both men lying motionless on the mat, Red Herrington begins to deliver a standing ten-count:

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

THREE!

 

 

“This is a critical point in the match,” notes King. “The next man to hit a big move will probably win it!”

 

“Look at Melissa out on the floor,” says Pete. “She’s beside herself with worry!”

 

 

SIX!

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

EIGHT!

 

 

At the count of eight, Jay Hawke begins to crawl towards Wildchild, who is also on his knees. The two combatants begin to exchange punches as they get to their feet. Wildchild is the first to gain an advantage, as he blocks Jay with his left forearm and blasts him with an elbow smash to the bridge of the nose! A second block leads to a second elbow smash, and Wildchild grabs Hawke by the wrist to whip him into the corner, but Hawke reverses, twisting Wildchild into an armbar and immediately transitioning into a chickenwing!

 

“This is it!” exclaims King. “The Wing Span; if he locks this in, he’s successfully defended his title!” Hawke locks in the chickenwing but before he can get off the canvas to scissor Wildchild’s other arm, the Bahama Bomber lunges desperately towards the nearby corner, smashing Jay’s face into the top turnbuckle, and forcing him to break the hold!

 

“What quick thinking by the Macho Man!” screams Pete. “He was able to ram Jay Hawke into the turnbuckle before he locked in the Wing Span, and get himself out of the hold!”

 

 

SMACK!

 

 

“Ow!” cries Pete, rubbing the side of his head. “What the hell was that for?”

 

“I told you to stop calling him Macho Man!” growls King. Perhaps still the fresher of the two, Hawke pulls Wildchild away from the corner and lifts him off the canvas to deliver a German suplex, but Wildchild spins out of his grasp, and crashes on top of him in a pinning predicament!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

“No!” cries King. “He kicked out! Hawke kicked out!” Wildchild beats Hawke to his feet and grabs him by the back of the head, leading him to the edge of the ring and leaping over the top rope…

 

 

THWACK!

 

 

… Clotheslining Hawke on the top rope as he falls to the arena floor!

 

 

“Clothesline on the ropes!” shouts Pete, as Wildchild scrambles back onto the apron. “And he’s going back to the top rope; that’s his favorite spot!” Wildchild raises both arms above his head and then leaps down from the top turnbuckle, burying a double-axe handle between the Champion’s eyes! Wildchild pulls Hawke to his feet and whips him hard into the turnbuckles, racing to the ropes as Jay staggers out of the corner, snaring him by the head as he flies by, and driving him face-first into the canvas with a bulldog!

 

“Wildchild with a bulldog that puts Jay Hawke’s lights out!” exclaims LDP. “And he’s pointing to the top rope!”

 

“You don’t think he would… I mean, he wouldn’t!” stammers King. “Would he?”

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“Macho’s going to the top!” exclaims Pete, ignoring King’s protests. “If he hits the big elbow, we’ve got a new champion!” Wildchild holds both arms high above his head, soaking in the crowd’s cheers before leaping from the top turnbuckle, pointing his elbow at a forty-five degree angle, and aiming it straight down…

 

 

BANG!

 

 

… As he drives it into Jay Hawke’s black heart!

 

 

“There it is!” shrieks Pete. “That patented flying elbow!” Wildchild grapevines both of Hawke’s legs and folds him up into a pinning predicament, as Herrington drops down to count the shoulders. The crowd cheers along with the count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Just before Herrington’s hand can strike the canvas a third time, Johnny Dangerous runs in from out of nowhere to break up the count!

 

“No!” spits Pete. “Damn it! Johnny Dangerous has cost Wildchild the International Title!”

 

“Well, Wildchild has almost certainly won this match via disqualification,” adds King, “but he’s going to have to settle for that, as we know that the title doesn’t change hands on a disqualification!” Hawke rolls feebly out of the ring as Johnny stomps viciously on the back of Wildchild’s head. The Barracuda pulls Wildchild to his feet and whips him into the ropes, thrusting his foot out as he rebounds…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

 

… And knocking him senseless with a Johnny Kick! Red Herrington orders Johnny to leave the ring, but Johnny grabs him by the back of the head and leads him over to the edge of the ring, heaving him over the top rope!

 

“This is crazy!” shrieks LDP, as Johnny climbs out of the ring. “Somebody’s got to put a stop to this!” Johnny pushes Funyon and the timekeeper out of their chairs, and then tosses them into the ring. He climbs back into the ring and places one underneath Wildchild’s head, and then picks up the other one. Despite the pleas and screams from the crowd, Johnny raises the chair over his head…

 

 

BANG!

 

AND SMASHES WILDCHILD'S HEAD BETWEEN THEM!

 

 

“My god!” screams Pete. “Isn’t there anybody who can stop this carnage?” Johnny pulls the motionless Wildchild to his feet and lifts him onto his shoulders…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… DRIVING HIM DOWN ONTO THE CHAIRS WITH THE MI SLAM!

 

“For god’s sake,” whines Pete, as Johnny stands over Wildchild’s body, “enough is enough!” Johnny bends over Wildchild and yells, “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into!” He then leaves the ring to a chorus of boos, watching his unconscious former partner as he retreats up the ramp…

 

 

As we:

FADE OUT

Edited by Chuck Woolery

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Smarkdown comes back from commercial as a group of SWF executives make their way through the back, before a massive amount of laughs and cheers are heard! Wes Davenport nervously smiles, then turns and glares at his manager, the celebrity in an unusually fowl mood.

 

“Barry, I don’t need the canned laughter right now. This is serious business.”

 

“I thought we agreed you were going to tell a joke, and I’d press this…”

 

“Damnit! This is no laughing matter!”

 

Jacobs presses a button on a remote control, prompting rousing applause from seemingly nowhere.

 

“That’s better,” Wes says, smiling once more, except slightly puzzled. “Where did you get that thing anyway, Barry?”

 

“Remember that guest spot you did on Will and Grace? Where you played the bi-sexual gym owner that sleeps with Grace, but decides he wants to pursue a relationship with Will, while still sleeping with Grace on the side?”

 

“I remember I was drinking heavily around that time…”

 

“So was I, actually… anyway, I stole it from their set.”

 

“They never found out?”

 

“Trust me; they have plenty of canned laughter on hand.”

 

The two continue down the corridor, passing a mop leaning against a wall, prompting a hazy memory from the previous year for Wes, something about a drunken fling with Debra Messing, while Jacobs knocks on the door, once again, of Mr. Thomas Flesher, the Superior One.

 

“I can’t believe he wrote, “Thomas Flesher – Superior One” on the door.” Barry shakes his head as he pushes the door wide open, busting into the room as he enters his “negotiating zone”, the same zone that successfully landed Wes the role of “Jeff the Pedophile” in Law and Order: SVU.

 

Flesher doesn’t seem too disturbed by the sudden intrusion, barely glancing at the pair as he continues watching the monitor.

 

“Now, Mr. Flesher, enough is enough! I’ve been pleasant and accommodating up until now, but no more!” Barry winks at his client, gearing up for a tirade that will surely save Wes from the noose that is wrestling in the SWF.

 

“I demand that my client be taken OFF the roster, and that you cease from forcing him to his contra-“

 

“Sit.”

 

Jacobs stands mouth agape, before slowly bending down and sitting in the chair behind him. Davenport puts his head in his hands as Barry sits and listens intently to the commish.

 

“As you may or may not know, we have a Pay Per View event coming up. And while you have so far, somehow, escaped working in an SWF ring, at Ashes to Ashes, believe me, you will compete.”

 

Davenport slowly lifts his head up, cringing at the mere thought, while a Boilermaker crosses Barry’s as he listens to Flesher.

 

“Now, I’m not sure who will be your opponent yet-“

 

“Hold on!” Wes shouts. “I’m… I’m not fit to compete.”

 

“Wes,” responds a tired Flesher, “do you remember last week when our trainers put you through a fitness test?”

 

“I remember I was drinking heavily around that time…”

 

“…Yes, well, according to them, you passed with flying colors. You, my friend, are cleared to wrestle, and wrestle you shall.”

 

A slight sense of smug satisfaction crosses Flesher for the moment as he leans back in his chair. To be honest, he didn’t care for Davenport one way or the other, but he did enjoy the control he had. And, quite frankly, Davenport could make the SWF money, if Flesher could steer his course through the SWF successfully.

 

Finally, the horrible truth dawns on Wes as his shoulders sink, much like his hopes. “I see there’s no changing your mind, but I just want you to know, Tom-”

 

“Mr. Flesher.”

 

“-Mr. Flesher… that you’ve helped sabotage the career on a damn fine actor, and I’ll never forget it!”

 

“From what I’ve heard,” Tom replies, looking at his newest additions manager, “Barry has a lot to do with that.”

 

“What? Look, whatever!” Wes grumbles, passing over the remark much to Jacobs’ relief. “Despite what you may hope, I’ll go out there, and I’ll make the best damn performer you’ve ever seen!”

 

“Let’s hope so,” Flesher says with a smile, “Now, shoo.”

 

Waving away his uninvited guests, Davenport and Jacobs walk towards the door as Wes continues to grumble and moan. “I can’t believe I’ll miss out on that Uwe Boll project because of this…”

 

 

 

 

“Trust me,” Flesher remarks, “I’m doing you a favor.”

Edited by chirs3

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“IT’S MAIN EVENT TIME!”

 

The stentorian bellowing of Longdogger Pete blasts out of TV sets across the nation, and indeed the world, as the pre-recorded Halloween Smarkdown reaches its conclusion. The cameras focus on the commentary team, LDP having changed from whatever he may have been wearing earlier in the evening into a Freddy Kreuger outfit, complete with mask. Meanwhile next to him, Suicide King is now in a Darth Vader costume, also complete with mask (come on, there wouldn’t be much point without it would there?).

 

“Congratulations, you’ve won the 2005 Obvious Statement Award”

 

“King, that voice changer really doesn’t suit you.”

 

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

 

 

‘PREPARE… FOR… LANDON!’

 

*WAAAAAAAAAAHHH*

 

*DUM-DUM*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

As ‘Megalomaniac’ by Incubus kicks up over the PA system the entire crowd rises to its feet and begins jeering in unison. However, those boos quickly turn to laughs as Landon appears. Granted, La Cucaracha has his regained Tag Title strapped around his waist, but he’s also dressed in one of the more ludicrous outfits seen so far this evening. With multi-coloured… somethings… emerging from either side of his head and with his legs clad in decidedly unmanly green tights, the leader of Cucaracha Internacional looks more like something cooked up in the drug-ravaged subconscious of a sleep-deprived Japanese game designer. Which to be fair, he might well be.

 

“There’s another King in town!” Pete laughs as Landon makes his way down the ramp in his King of the Cosmos costume, looking decidedly put out by the crowd’s mockery.

 

“…that’s the best thing I’ve seen all year,” King says, half-appalled and half-amused.

 

“HE HAS NOT CONFESSED, HE HAS MADE NO STATEMENT, CHARGES OF MURDER HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AGAINST HIM.”

 

Before Landon can even reach the ring ‘Scapegoat’ by Fear Factory starts up and the lights begin flashing red and white before dropping back down. The Smartron starts to show notable highlights from JJ Johnson’s matches before the man himself appears, tonight dressed in a Mountie costume and smirking slightly in the knowledge that he looks a lot better than Landon.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a six-man tag team match scheduled for one fall, and will be contested under Lucha Libre rules,” Funyon booms. “Introducing first, at a combined weight of 437lbs, one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions and the SWF Cruiserweight Champion; Landon Maddix and JJ Johnson, this is CUCA-RA-CHAAAAA… INTER-NACION-AAAAAALLLLLLL!!”

 

“YOU BOTH SUCK!”

 

“YOU BOTH SUCK!”

 

Landon and Johnson climb into the ring and have a quick conversation, an act that is proving problematic as the weird things on Landon’s head means he can’t hear a word of his companion’s gravely whisper. In frustration La Cucaracha rips them off, just in time to be made to jump by the pyro of their tag partner!

 

“HEY HEY!”

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

Atake FDD’s ‘Tu Final’ kicks up as an explosion of red, white and green sparks blasts upwards from the soundstage. Moments later as the smoke clears El Luchador Magnifico can be seen striding forwards with the Mexican flag held high, a HUGE sombrero on his head and a skull mask on his face!

 

“The World Champion is dressed for the Mexican Day Of The Dead, their version of Halloween,” Pete explains. “On this day, Mexican children eat sugar skulls to ward off death!”

 

“Who hired La Parka for this gig?” King wants to know.

 

Magnifico ignores the boos of the fans as he makes his way down the entrance ramp, still stridently waving his flag. In the ring Funyon raises his microphone once more…

 

“…and their tag team partner, from Mexico City, Mexico! He weighs in tonight at 210lbs and is the reigning SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION~!, this is EL LUCHADOOORRRRRR… MAGNIFICOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Mags steps through the ropes and climbs the ropes to wave his flag. Unfortunately he doesn’t find many supporters in North Dakota, and the angry Luchador scowls at the crowd before planting his flag in the corner. He and Landon then have a quick discussion in Spanish with JJ Johnson looking blank before ELM turns and hands his belt to referee Matthew Kivell. However, the World Champion doesn’t notice Landon Maddix’s covetous eyes following the piece of gold…

 

“You see Dogger, all three members of this team are champions,” King explains. “Granted, Landon’s only champion because of the skills of his tag team partner, but no-one can deny Johnson’s ability, and especially not that of El Luchador Magnifico.”

 

“How come you only like Magnifico when he’s flipping off the fans, and all the rest of the time you call him a damn Carnie?” Pete wants to know.

 

“You don’t know the power of the Dark Side.”

 

Before Pete can respond the lights drop out in the Bismarck Arena again, and then the pulsing electronic beats of ‘Tribe’ by Mad Capsule Markets start up. Strobes begin to bathe the crowd in light in time with the beat and three letters begin to flash up on the Smarktron:

 

 

T

 

K

 

O

 

 

As the first guitar riff rings out four silhouettes can be seen at the top of the entrance ramp, then start to make their way down the ramp. Chris Card and Natasha are wearing their normal clothes, but stereo grins from the pair reveal clip-on fangs allowing them to get away as being in vampire costume. TORU Takahara and KOJI Kitano however are both wearing bright blue jerkins and pants with floppy red hats, bushy white beards and red blusher on their cheeks… and shades.

 

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

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“T!K!O!”

 

“And their opponents,” Funyon booms, “first, accompanied to the ring by Chris Card Enterprises; from Saitama Prefecture, Japan, at a combined weight of 483lbs, this is TEE! KAY! OHH!”

 

As the garden gnomes step into the ring to the cheers of the crowd they both point ominously at JJ Johnson and Landon Maddix. The Canadian stares back belligerently but Maddix edges behind his stablemate, looking somewhat nervous. However, before things can degenerate into a brawl the sounds of ‘Oh No’ by Mos Def, Nate Dogg and Pharoah Monche start up, and the crowd goes wild for the only real face in the match!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

’OH NO!’

 

*BOOOM!*

 

Sparks fly up on either side of Todd Cortez as he comes striding out from the back, but the Urban Legend looks a little different to usual as his collar is up above his head with a narrow slit for his eyes, and clutched under one arm is a fake head. A fake head that has long black hair and bears an alarming resemblance to the SWF World Champion…

 

“And their partner, from Hollywood Boulevard,” Funyon booms, “he weighs in tonight at 226lbs; this is the ‘Urban Legend’, TODD… COOORRRR-TEEEEEZZZZZ!!”

 

“LET’S GO COR-TEZ!”

 

“LET’S GO COR-TEZ!”

 

“King, do you suppose that the Urban Legend has his sights set on El Luchador Magnifico?” Pete speculates as the SWF’s Headless Horseman (minus the horse. So Headless Wrestler) starts to make his way down the ramp.

 

“I just want to know why he’s impersonating every victim of Va’aiga’s Lariat.”

 

Cortez throws the head into the ring before he climbs through the ropes. TORU catches it and the two members of TKO take turns in spitting on it before hurling it high into the air, allowing Cortez to catch it with a kick that sends it well into the third row!

 

“Well, every member of the City Legendary Configuration, as TKO and Todd Cortez are to be known tonight, is well capable of kicking other people’s heads very hard,” Pete points out. “While JJ Johnson is no slouch in a striking contest Landon Maddix and El Luchador Magnifico might find themselves outgunned!”

 

“Even with Landon on the team, I’m sure Johnson and Magnifico can carry his worthless carcass to a win,” King replies. “As long as they focus on Cortez of course; he’s obviously the weak link in the chain.”

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

The bell rings to signal the start of the match, but whereas JJ Johnson steps forward smartly to start things off for the HispanCan Connection TKO and Todd Cortez seem to be in some disagreement. All of them want to start, but rather than degenerate into an argument or brawl they choose to settle things in a mature way. A professional way.

 

Rock, Paper, Scissors.

 

“You’re kidding, right?” LDP says in disbelief as each man starts to bounce their fists once, twice, three times… and comes up with each man doing a different thing! They try again once, twice, three times… and this time they all have a different symbol again!

 

“This could take some time…” Pete mutters as Chris Card and Natasha begin yawning on the outside, displaying their fangs.

 

Once, twice, three times… and Cortez turns away in disgust as his rock is wrapped by simultaneous paper from TKO! The Urban Legend is eliminated but can’t tear his eyes away from the gripping climax…

 

Once, twice, three times… two scissors.

 

“T!K!O!”

 

Once, twice, three times… two papers, and JJ Johnson is coming closer, demanding that they begin the match.

 

“These guys know each other two well,” King comments.

 

Once, twice, three times… two rocks, and if Johnson could scream in frustration then he would.

 

TORU and KOJI look at each other.

 

*WHAM!*

 

And turn around to use their ‘rocks’ to flatten JJ Johnson with stereo punches!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“They suckered him in!” Pete crows, as TKO turn back and grab Todd Cortez under each arm, then heave the Urban Legend up and over so he lands on top of Johnson in a hiptoss/senton combo!

 

*BANG!*

 

Landon Maddix and El Luchador Magnifico are outraged by this dastardly tactic and step through the ropes to charge their opponents, but TKO combine to take Landon down with a double shoulderblock while Cortez ducks under Magnifico’s wild swing, then starts peppering the World Champion with rights to the face! The Urban Legend then seizes his opponent’s wrist and Irish whips his fellow Hispanic into the turnbuckles before whirling around and hitting the ropes. El Luchador Magnifico staggers out as Cortez rebounds, and the man from Hollywood Boulevard SMASHES into him with the Hollow Point, sending the World Champion tumbling out through the ropes to the floor!

 

“YEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Meanwhile as Johnson clutches his ribs on the canvas TKO are pinballing Maddix back and forth between them as they take turn to hit rights to the jaw of La Cucaracha. Finally as Maddix stumbles away from a KOJI right hand, the two Japanese wrestlers measure him before lashing out with stereo roundhouses that sandwich Maddix’s head! Even then the resilient Tag Champion doesn’t go down… but then Todd Cortez explodes off the ropes to nail him with a Hollow Point and send him tumbling through the ropes to the floor as well!

 

“LET’S GO COR-TEZ!”

 

“LET’S GO COR-TEZ!”

 

Maddix landed more or less on top of ELM and the two wrestler pick themselves up, both wincing as their ribs complain… but then they look up to see the imposing shape of TORU with JJ Johnson hoisted overhead in a military press and bearing down on them from inside the ring! Maddix and Magnifico can only watch in awestruck horror as TORU heaves Johnson over the top rope like a human missile!

 

*WHAM!*

 

219lbs of Canadian lands on top of the two Hispanics, but the City Legendary Configuration aren’t done yet! As the three men on the outside start to help each other up, all nursing their individual injuries, Todd Cortez and KOJI start to run for the ropes before leaping into the air…

 

…Maddix, Magnifico and Johnson all duck, hoping to see their opponent’s go splat on the floor behind them…

 

…but Cortez and KOJI have swung their bodies around to land on the second rope, and as the HispanCadian Connection look up again their two opponents are already halfway through gorgeous stereo Asai moonsaults!

 

*BANG!*

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

“HO-LY SHIT!”

 

The chants of the crowd are ringing loud inside the Bismarck Civic Center, but there’s one man left in the ring still… and that man is the 264lb TORU Takahara. Of course, just because he’s considerably heavier than everyone else in this match doesn’t mean that the Japanese Hammer is going to let them get all the fun, oh no. So as the crowd noise starts to rise TORU begins to climb the ringpost until he gets to the top buckle, whereupon he gives everyone the middle finger… and leaps off with a SHOOTING STAR PRESS onto the five men who have just picked themselves up again!

 

*WHUMP!*

 

“S!W!F!”

 

“S!W!F!”

 

"Listen to this crowd! Mere moments into the match, and we've got an International Highspot Massacre on our hands!" shouts LDP happily.

 

"That's a move that is usually reserved to put people away, but given the track records of the CLC's opponents, they're going to have to break out the big guns quickly in order to maintain a decisive advantage."

 

TORU is also the first man up, and he looks out to the crowd with wild eyes, basking in the reception while still maintaining an intimidating presence. He chooses Landon Maddix to pry off the ringside floor and roll into the ring, which is not something Maddix is looking forward too. The loathed superstar scrambles on his behind, moving across the ring and pleading for mercy, as the imposing Japanese superstar stalks him.

 

"2005 has not been Maddix's year, and tonight doesn't look to change that."

 

TORU moves towards him, but Maddix quickly dives out of the far side of the ring and scurries around ringside...providing a distraction as Johnson rolls in behind TORU and clubs him from behind! The big man merely flinches, and turns slowly to face JJ Johnson. TORU snarls, and JJ steps back before striking with a forearm shot! TORU winces, but turns head back to lock eyes with JJ, then fires off a forearm of his own! JJ staggers, but comes back with another forearm, which has the same effect as before. TORU delivers another shot to JJ ,but takes him by the head before Johnson can retaliate, and lifts him off the mat. TORU presses Johnson up over his head, but from behind comes Maddix, and he clips the knee of the big man, allowing Johnson to fall on top for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

T-NO! TORU presses out of the pin!

 

Maddix, who has rolled back out to ringside, slams his hands on the canvas in disappointment. Inside the right both men get up, and Johnson hits the ropes, but his attempt is thwarted by TORU, who yanks him off his feet and then drives him into the canvas with a snap spinebuster. TORU then heads for his corner and motions for KOJI to get ready, and as the big man steps out of the ring KOJI hops up on the top turnbuckle and delivers a gorgeous guillotine legdrop, getting some MAJOR hangtime before he ultimately crashes his leg into the throat of JJ Johnson!

 

"Whattamanuever!" screams Pete.

 

KOJI goes for the pin, hooking the leg of Johnson while referee Kivell slides down to the canvas to make the call.

 

ONE!

 

TW-KICKOUT!

 

KOJI gets right up, pulling his opponent with him and sending him to the ropes...but before Johnson can rebound, his own partner (Maddix) hops off the apron and pulls Johnson down and out to the floor! KOJI sees this and begins to spring into action, charging to the ropes...but when HE rebounds, he's flattened by a running lariat from the World Heavyweight Champion!

 

"Who better to take advantage of this lucha style than EL LUCHADORE~!

 

Magnifico puts the boots to KOJI, then pulls him up and sends him to the ropes, catching him in a tilt-a-whirl...but KOJI manages to spin it into a deep armdrag, sending Magnifico across the canvas! It's enough to fluster Magnifico, but it doesn't keep him down for long, as he charges with another lariat, only this time his arm is hooked by KOJI and trapped in a full nelson...but ELM manages to spin out! He scoops KOJI up and slams him to the canvas, then hits the ropes and drops an elbow...but it misses! KOJI pops right up and drops an elbow of his own, but Magnifico avoids it and rolls to his feet. He grabs KOJI and lifts him up for a vertical suplex, but KOJI allows himself to fall out of the hold! He lands behind ELM and spins him around, delivering a kick to the stomach before pulling the champion up onto his shoulders and racing across the ring with a running power bomb...but before it connects Magnifico counters with a huracanra! KOJI splatters to the canvas, and ELM quickly rolls out under the bottom rope, which allows Maddix to enter, springboarding in with an elbowsmash to his prone opponent!

 

ONE!

 

T-KICKOUT!

 

Maddix pulls KOJI up, and tries to slow down the pace by grabbing him in a side headlock. Maddix wrenches and twists, using his vice grip to squeeze at the cranium of the Japanese cruiserweight, but KOJI manages to slide his head out of Landon's grasp, and then come up behind him and take him by the head, trapping him in his own side headlock! KOJI wrenches Landon's head, but before Landon suffers much from the shoe being on the other foot, Johnson runs in and takes KOJI in a side headlock, pulling him off Maddix! Landon rolls out of the ring, and Johnson keeps his grip applied, but then finds himself shot into the ropes. He bounces back with a shoulderblock that puts KOJI on his back, then runs the ropes. KOJI comes to his feet and springs over the oncoming JJ Johnson with a leapfrog, then looks to carry him over with a hiptoss...but JJ blocks the attempt and instead tosses KOJI over with a release belly to belly suplex! The foreign star reels, falling back into the corner as he gets up, only to be blasted by a crushing corner clothesline (say that three times fast!) by Johnson! KOJI slouches down into a seated position after being struck, and Johnson moves across the ring, gloating to the crowd momentarily before charging into the corner with a running knee to the...waitaminute...

 

"He caught the leg!"

 

KOJI stands up, with Johnson's leg trapped under his arm. Johnson takes swings with both his left and his right, trying to crack his foe across the cheek, but to no avail. KOJI whips him to the mat with a Dragon screw, and then rolls to his corner, coming up before his two partners and smacking the hand of Todd Cortez!

 

"I think that's the first actual tag I've seen all match."

 

"They're just following the rules put in place for this contest. Tags aren't required..."

 

"...and piledrivers are illegal, which means that takes away that man's main weapon! observes the ever-intellectual King.

 

"I hadn't even thought of that until just now, King, but you're right. All variations of the piledriver are banned during this contest, which means the Riot Act Plus cannot be used to gain a victory for the City Legendary Configuration!"

 

"Apparently there was no ban put in place for stupid team names."

 

Cortez races into the ring, taking ahold of Johnson in a rear waistlock just as he's back to his feet. JJ fights back, firing back two elbows before bounding to the ropes. Cortez drops to his stomach, and JJ slides under the ropes of the far side and out of the ring. Cortez approaches the ropes, thinking his opponent is looking for higher ground, when in fact Johnson has taken himself out of the match. The crowd starts to "oooh" and "aaah" as Cortez watches Johnson before turning around, coming face to face with the new legal man.

 

Maddix!

 

"Quite a bit of history here, and neither man has forgotten about it!"

 

"Neither has this crowd, I mean listen to them!"

 

"COR-TEZ!"

 

"COR-TEZ!"

 

"COR-TEZ!"

 

The two men circle the ring and then tie up to the enjoyment of the masses, but when Landon tries to segue out of the lockup and apply a headlock, he forgets one simple fact: you can't apply a headlock to a Headless Horseman! Stunned, Landon turns back to Todd, only to catch a roundhouse kick to the stomach that doubles him over! Cortez hits the ropes and comes off, looking for a swinging DDT...but at the last second Landon tosses Todd away, stopping him from bringing him headfirst to the canvas! Maddix then spins his body around and connects with a Roaring Elbow~!...but Cortez puts both arms up to block, and Landon's arm smashes into the elbows of Cortez! Maddix backs away in pain, and Cortez takes advantage, pulling him off his feet and dropping him on the back of his head with a quick release back suplex! Todd then ducks out to the apron and then measures Landon before springboarding off the top, connecting with a kneedrop to the forehead of his old rival! He rolls through with the move, and leaps up to the middle rope, but before he can complete the quebrada, he's shoved down by El Luchadore Magnifico!

 

"Nice save! Good looking out, champ!"

 

Cortez gets to his feet, but then immediately charges ELM and clocks him in the jaw, knocking him off the apron and to the floor! Johnson comes down the apron from the corner, but Cortez races across the canvas and sticks his arm over the ropes, delivering a lariat that also knocks Johnson to the floor! The crowd is going absolutely crazy as the World Champion and Johnson are fuming on the floor, but it's taken Cortez's mind off of Maddix. Landon gets up and charges, but Todd turns at the last second and drops low, backdropping Landon up and over the ropes, down onto his own partners!

 

“Cortez has just emptied the ring, and now watch out!” LDP screams into his headset, as Cortez runs up the corner and braces himself, ready to take flight.

 

The three hated individuals that were strewn about at ringside get up, and Maddix notices Cortez, although instead of leaping into action, Cortez just offers a smirk. Maddix, Magnifico and Johnson are all perplexed, until the sight of a jacked-up Japanese man leaping over the ropes confirms for them what everyone else could see.

 

“Diversionary tactic from the Urban Legend pays off, and all three have been wiped out again!”

TORU stands up proudly, then pulls himself onto the apron and stands facing the crowd, raising his arms and roaring loudly. The fans respond in kind, as tonight he’s kicking the keysters of some of the most hated men in the sport. Cortez hops down off the ropes and pats TORU on the back, then points to ringside, telling him to bring one of the three back into the ring. TORU hops off the apron and looks down, and picks El Luchadore Magnifico from the pile, rolling him into the ring under the bottom rope.

 

”Oh c’mon now, he’s our champion let’s give him a breathers for cripes sake!”pouts King.

 

Cortez picks ELM up and snaps him over with a suplex, then rolls through with the move and lifts ELM up again, this time crotching him on the turnbuckles over in the CLC’s corner. Cortez motions for KOJI to enter the ring, and together they climb the ropes, preparing for a double suplex and remaining oblivious to what’s going on on the other side of the ring.

 

“King, look!”

 

”Haha, they’re pummeling him!”

 

Maddix and Johnson, frustrated with the ability of the opposition to work them over, keep TORU down at ringside and beat him down, kicking and punching, scratching and clawing, all while referee Kivell has his eyes on the legal men! Together, Maddix and Johnson then roll into the ring, and just as KOJI and Cortez are about to rock the World Heavyweight Champion with a double suplex, they run up under their foes and grab them by the waist, Powerbombing them off the top turnbuckles as they superplex Magnifico at the same time!

 

“TOWER OF DOOOOOOOOM! Johnson and Maddix have just splattered the opposition, AND their partner on the…HOLY MOLY~!”

 

In mid-call, TORU slide into the ring, angry and wild-eyed, and BLASTED Maddix and Johnson with a stiff double lariat that turned Maddix inside out! The angry Asian then picks Johnson up and drills him with a knee to the side of the head, then takes him by the head and hurls him through the ropes and out to the floor!

 

”I was about to say that Kivell needs to clear this ring out, but it looks like this guy read my mind!”

Kivell would actually like TORU to get out of the ring as well, but after disposing of Johnson, he moves for Maddix. Kivell tries to restore some order and tells him to step back out onto the apron, pointing in case the language barrier happens to be a problem. TORU walks away, and everyone begins to scatter, selling the effects of the Tower Of Doom. Cortez and Magnifico remain, and seeing that they’re the two left in the ring, ELM quickly yanks down on Todd’s head and rolls him up into a small package out of nowhere!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

KICKOUT!

 

”Close call, but he caught Cortez off guard, and that’s what you need to do, you catch him when he’s not looking!”

 

Magnifico pulls Todd up, and staggers him with forearms to keep him off his game, then sends him flying into the corner, crashing into the turnbuckles. Cortez hits hard and stumbles forward, falling perfectly into Magnifico’s setup. He bounces off the ropes and comes up behind Cortez, taking him down with a bull-NO! Cortez slips his head out at the last second and pushes Magnifico forward, towards the ropes, then springs off the side ropes and connects with ELM in mid-ring, exploding into him with the Hollow Point~!

 

“We’ve seen it used earlier in the contest, but that particular Hollow Point could spell victory for the CLC!”

 

Cortez covers!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

NO! Maddix pulls Cortez off of his partner and makes the save!

 

“Heeeeeeeeere we go!”

 

The ring fills up again, as TORU and KOJI both enter and chase after Maddix, who circles around the ring for a moment before ducking out to ringside. TORU steps through the ropes and out to the floor like a man on a mission, minus the gawdy purple outfits and rap songs. Maddix begs off, rolling back into the ring…where KOJI stands! He spins Maddix around and delivers the double-bird, which both angers and frightens Maddix! There’s nothing he can do about it however, as he’s quickly doubled over by a kick to the stomach, clubbed over the back with two hard forearm shots, and finally sent crashing to the canvas courtesy of KOJI’s patented WHIRLWIND DRIVER~!

 

“I don’t think Mr. Maddix will be breaking up anymore pinfalls here tonight!”

 

KOJI gets up and taunts his foe, as the crowd starts coming more alive. However, as KOJI backs away from Maddix, he finds his arms hooked and pulled back, as Magnifico has gotten up and taked hold of him before jogging up the ropes and floating backwards, smashing KOJI headfirst into the ring with the Baja California Crusher~!

 

”He hit him so hard it deported him back to Japan!”

 

Magnifico kicks at the body of KOJI and pushes it out of the ring. Kivell comes over and warns Magnifico not to bother with him and focus on the legal man, Cortez, but Magnifico uses this as an opportunity to keep the referee busy, as Johnson rolls back into the ring and pulls Cortez up onto his shoulders, then snaps him down to the canvas with the CN PLUNGE~!

 

“My God I saw the ring shake on that one!”

 

Johnson leans over and spits on Cortez, extremely proud of laying the Urban Legend out. However, with the referee still distracted, TORU enters the ring and spins JJ around, then brings a knee into his gut before putting him in a standing headscissors…and SPIKING him with a leaping piledriver! JJ’s whole body bounces off the canvas as soon as his head makes impact, and once he’s laid out TORU disposes of him, then goes and spins Magnifico around, delivering chops to the chest and kicks to his thighs. He goes to send him into the ropes, but Magnifico turns it around on TORU and comes at him, ramming an elbow into the side of his face. He brings TORU down into a front facelock, but before he can execute whatever he has planned, TORU shoves him backwards…AND INTO THE WAITING ARMS OF CORTEZ, WHO APPLIES A DRAGON SLEEPER AND FALLS TO THE CANVAS!

 

“STREET DREAMS~! Todd Cortez has the World Champion trapped in his trademark submission!”

 

Magnifico squirms like a fish out of water, desperately trying to free himself from the clutches of the famed former Hardcore Champion. It’s to no avail, however, as the two men are down in the middle of the ring, with the ropes not even close to where ELM is caught.

 

”He won’t tap out, he’s the World Champion, and World Champions don’’ tap out!”

 

Cortez pulls back on Magnifico’s head, and keeps the left arm hooked, pulling back on that as well. Magnifico kicks his legs, trying to spin their bodies towards the ropes so that he can break, but Cortez manages to keep himself anchored, and doesn’t move as much as Magnifico needs. Everyone else has been disposed of, and there’s no one left to save Magnifico from his fate tonight.

 

MAGNIFICO IS TAPPING OUT!

 

“You were saying?” chuckles LDP.

 

”I, I…ah whatever!”

 

The crowd roars as the bell is rung, and the groggy Japanese stars come and stand alongside their Hispanic partner and have their arms raised in triumph.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winners, The CITY LEGENDARY CONFIGURATION~!”

 

Cortez’s theme is the one cued up, as he’s the one who got the victory for his team. The proud Urban Legend, having just forced the World Champion into submission, climbs up on the ropes and salutes the fans, while TORU and KOJI pace the ring. All three are satisfied with their efforts tonight, and then a fourth man enters the ring…

 

”What the…KIVELL! GET HIM OUT OF THERE!

 

SPIKE JENKINS is in the ring, laying waste to the fallen World Champion by clobbering away at him. Spike is letting all his recent frustrations out on the weary Luchardore, and when referee Kivell tries to break it up, he’s shoved away for his efforts!

 

“Spike Jenkins has attacked his rival, the World Champion, in the middle of the ring here tonight!”

 

”Nothing like striking while the iron’s hot! He wasted NO time in getting down here!”

 

As Spike batters Magnifico, everyone exits the ring and keeps watch, as Jenkins hammers away. Out on the floor, a mouthy Landon Maddix issues threats towards KOJI and TORU, and it winds up in a melee on the floor, as the Japanese contingent rushes Maddix and Johnson, engaging in fisticuffs! Before things get too out of hand, Landon hops over the railing, pulling Johnson with him…but in the confusion he notices he dropped his World Tag Team Title belt on the floor. Landon reaches over the railing to get it…

 

…AND IT’S PULLED AWAY BY KOJI!

 

”HEY! That’s grand theft championship!” remarks King, who is about to have an anyuerism with everything that’s gone down tonight.

KOJI backs away with the belt held high, and it brings up a roar from the crowd, as they’d rather see the gold around the waists of TORU and KOJI than Maddix and his cohorts. Back in the ring, SWF security forces have finally arrived to help drag Spike Jenkins away from El Luchadore Magnifico, but as Spike is being pulled away the shaky champion dusts himself off and storms over, delivering a cheap shot while Spike is being held back!

 

“Ooooooooooh!”

 

Jenkins furiously shakes himself free, breaking away from security and tackling ELM to the cavnas! They roll around and continue brawling, as security does their best to end the fracas once again.

 

“What a night this has been! An amazing main event, capped off with Todd Cortez forcing the World Champion, the man you see rolling around your screen right now, into submission. Not to mention that the tag champions are missing one of their belts, thanks to the bad luck of co-champion Landon Maddix!”

 

”Can’t you ever sign off without rubbing it in?” wonders King.

 

“Fine, we’ll have it your way. Folks, thank you for tuning into the SWF. Good night!”

Edited by chirs3

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In the Bismarck Civic Center Parking Lot

 

Todd Cortez finishes loading his bag into the trunk of his hire car and sighs, then winces as the pier six brawl that finished off the show catches up with him. The Urban Legend reaches up to close the trunk lid, then turns around to find himself confronted by the Masked Man!

 

Well, a Masked Man anyway.

 

“Todd.”

 

“King?” Cortez says in puzzlement. “Why are you still in costume?”

 

“Were you ever told what happened to your father?”

 

"Yeah. He was an alcoholic and left my family when I was two. Then my brother Josh pretty much acted as my father, but he was killed by a drug dealer. That's why I'm straight edge and everything."

 

“NO! I am your father!”

 

*CRACK!*

 

Suicide King slumps to the ground with his Darth Vader helmet cracked open from the Todd Cortez roundhouse kick. The Urban Legend sighs and gets into the car.

 

“I hate it when people do that…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© Smartmarks Wrestling Federation, 2005

Riot Act Promotions

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