SWF Storm (May. 31/2002)

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“Light’s out!  Guerilla Radio!”

 

“Turn that shit up!”

 

“Light’s out!  Guerilla Radio!”

 

“Turn that shit up!”

 

(Curry) – And it looks like we’re gonna start things off tonight with a visit from our commissioner, Stubby McWeed!!

 

(NTD) – Oh joyous day!

 

“Guerilla Radio” by Rage Against the Machine invades the ear lobes of the thousands of fans at the Tulsa Convention Center, while several inches away, their mouths let forth an ovation of boos that would set the world afire.

 

(Curry) – Are you sucking up again, or just being sarcastic?

 

(NTD) – I’m serious man.  It’s always a joyous day when we get a word from our beloved commissioner…and he’s coming out first…wow!  That leaves the possibility of seeing him twice.

 

(Funyon) – Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the commissioner of the Smarks Wrestling Federation…STUBBY “POTS” MCWEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDD!!

 

Stubby steps through the curtain on the stage to a roar of boos, but Stubby pays the thousands of hate-spewing fans no mind as he holds his hands in the air and spins in a circle.

 

(Curry) – I don’t know if I’d call him ‘beloved’, but then again, you couldn’t tell him that.  Look at him up there, acting as if he’s cock of the walk…king of the freaking world.  UGH!

 

After taking in all the crowd has to offer, Stubby begins to head down the ramp towards the ring.  The fans attempt to break through the increased security and the barricade for a shot at Stubby, but the commissioner only chuckles at their meaningless threats and keeps his course.

 

(NTD) – He IS king of the world…this world at least.  He’s the boss, remember that.

 

Stubby reaches the ring, climbs the steps, and enters the squared circle through the middle and top ropes.  Some fans actually throw things towards the ring (all of which fall short, but it’s the thought that counts) as Stubby stands in the center of the ring, smiling from ear to ear.  As an “asshole” chant starts to fill the arena, Stubby looks as if every boo and curse just makes his day even better.

 

(Curry) – What could be possibly be so happy about?!?  This is a terrible day for the SWF, and on top of that, his worst enemy is now the world champion.  How can he be happy?

 

(NTD) – Terrible day, why is that?

 

(Curry) – Did you watch Crossfire??  Were you there??  Did you see what happened?

 

(NTD) – Yeah, so…

 

(Curry) – SO!

 

At this point, Stubby requests a microphone from ringside, which he is readily given, but as soon as he attempts to speak one word, the audience breaks into song again, this time chanting “H-V-T”.  Stubby puts the mic by his side, and waits for the noise to subside, which seems to take longer than it should.

 

(NTD) – Whatever man…I don’t know what your talking about.  I thought the show went really well, and you should be happy…Edwin is champ.  Isn’t that what you wanted?

 

(Curry) – Yes that’s what I wanted, but not the way it happened…not at the expense of another person’s career.

 

The noise slows to an annoying chatter as Stubby starts up again…

 

(Stubby) – Well, well, well…here we are in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  Five days removed from Crossfire…and boy…I feel good!

 

Boos rain down from the crowd as Stubby continues…

 

(Stubby) – Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know that goofball of a carnie, Edwin MacPhisto, is champion…{huge pop}…but that’s not going to ruin my day…oh no!  You wanna know why?

 

(NTD) – Yeah, yeah…we wanna know Stubby!

 

(Curry) – Stop sounding so enthusiastic.

 

(Stubby) – I SAID…do you wanna know why?

 

The fans start to boo again, which happens to be their way of saying yes.

 

(Stubby) – I’ll tell you why because most of you rednecks here in Oklahoma are do fucking stupid to figure it out.  This day is so glorious because…it happens to be the very first show without that bigheaded, fat, black bastard, The Hville Thugg!

 

Boos rain out for Stubby’s insult of the newly face Thugg, and as the fans drown out Stubby, Curry and NTD have a chance to add their own brand of defiant commentary.

 

(Curry) – Oh…the nerve of that guy!  I can’t believe him…

 

(NTD) – Well, it’s true.  Can’t be made because the man speaks the truth.

 

(Stubby) – For once since my appointment as commissioner, it’s so nice to see a plan worked to perfection.  It’s nice to watch a plan unfold just the way you scripted it, and not have any stupid ass, incapable of holding a thought wrestlers fuck it up.  The only glitch is Edwin as champ, but that I can live with because he wasn’t part of the plan.  Besides, I’ve got the Carnie Killer himself on my payroll…you guys know who I’m talking about, right?

 

The chorus of boos start up once more, causing Stubby to smirk and chuckle to himself.

 

(Curry) – Alright Stubby!  If you came out here to gloat, congratulations…your point has been made.

 

(NTD) – Hey, he’s the commissioner.  He can gloat all his wants.  Besides, you don’t know what it’s like to watch so many plans fall apart because of incompetent help.  So, you don’t appreciate the feeling you have from watching a wonderfully crafted plan carried out to perfection.

 

(Stubby) – Your deputy commissioner, Suicide King, will most certainly take care of that piece of trash…or maybe it’ll be our other favorite Carnie killer, the returning Chris Wilson!

 

More boos fill the arena, but a few cheer sprinkle in from those who remember Chris Wilson’s golden summer.

 

(Stubby) – It was just so nice to go home on Sunday night, watch the tape, and smile at what we…at what I had accomplished.  {boo}  What?  You guys don’t remember?  Too much whiskey and rye killed too many brain cells and warped your short-term memory??  Well, here…let me show you.

 

The SmarkTron sparks to life, taking everyone in the arena, and those at home too, to the latter stages of Crossfire, after Edwin had already defeated the Hville Thugg for the world title…

 

-----------------------------------

 

“What a match!  It took everything MacPhisto had, including a top-rope Walk-Off, to bring the Thugg down, and—OH NO!  NO!  DON’T RUIN HIS CELEBRATION LIKE THIS!”  The crowd’s ovation turns to jeers immediately, and a teary-eyed Edwin looks up to see Jay Dawg and Sacred, Da Pound, charging down the ramp and diving into the ring!  “Battleflag” cuts out as he leaps off the turnbuckle as JD dives in…beltshot for JD, and the crowd erupts!  Sacred ducks Edwin’s next belt shot and gets ready to come back with a clothesline, but the crowd roars again as suddenly Perfect Bo comes charging down the ramp, steel chair in hand!  “BO’S BACK!  BO’S BACK AGAIN!  He got away from security, and he’s come to stop Da Pound!  If he can’t get his revenge on Thugg, he’ll at least get it on his buddies!”  The hardcore god dives into the ring and JD and Sacred back away, facing off with the newly crowned world champion and his chair-wielding ally…

 

“ALL ABOOOOOOOOOOARD!”

 

“WHAT?  Haven’t ENOUGH people tried to ruin Edwin’s party already?”

 

The crowd’s boos are phenomenally loud, and the drown out “Crazy Train” as the deputy commissioner himself steps out onto the ramping, snarling at the confetti as the last of it falls down and gets caught in his hair.  “Cut my music!” he sneers, spitting confetti aside.  “Well, well, Edwin,” scoffs King, as “Crazy Train” fades out, “it looks like you finally did it.  No thanks to that big dumb bitch standing next to you.  Bo, Bo, Bo…why couldn’t you get the job done?  I didn’t ask for anything fancy—just a simple crippling!  I thought you of all people could have pulled it off, not this little fey pretender to my throne standing next to you!”

 

“What?” says Curry, dumbfounded as everyone else.  “I don’t get it…”

 

“I guess,” continues King, sighing, “I’ll just have to come do it myself.  But in the meanwhile, Bo, why don’t you take care of our other problem?”  King grins, and Edwin turns towards Bo, a confused look on his face.  Bo grins…AND LEVELS THE NEW WORLD CHAMPION WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!  THE TITLE BELT GOES FLYING AWAY AND EDWIN DROPS LIKE A DEAD MAN AS THE ARENA BURSTS INTO RIOT!  The Suicide King comes bolting down the ramp, and Bo raises his arms high into the air, roaring as he steps forward and bumps chests with Sacred and Jay Dawg!

 

“BO JUST TOOK OUT THE WORLD CHAMP—AND…no, no, I get it!  I can’t believe we missed it!”  In the corner, HVT has finally risen up from the Walk-Off, and as he sees Bo floor Edwin with the chair, he realizes the nature of the deception!  With a bold shout, the battered Thugg lunges forward, and Bo swings his chair, but Thugg ducks!  The Savvis Center explodes with cheers, and Thugg lunges forward…but Sacred and JD each grab and arm of his!  He looks back to them dumbfounded, and—

 

CRAAAACK!  Bo brings the chair down hard over Thugg’s head!  He slumps –

 

CRAAAACK!  Bo levels him with another chairshot!  He passes the chair off to King and he –

 

CRAAAACK!  King takes a swing of his own, and blood starts to pour out of HVT’s forehead as he collapses to the mat!  The crowd is in a fury!  “It was Bo!  It was King!  It was them all along!  Bo’s got his revenge all right—but this was a setup?  I can’t believe it!”

 

“I suddenly like Bo a lot whole more!” snickers NTD.

 

Sacred, JD, Bo, and King stomp away at Thugg, trading the chair off and leveling his head with shot after shot, when suddenly Sacred gets yanked out of the picture!  A bloody-faced Edwin MacPhisto tears him away and swings a fist, but the Suicide King dashes towards him and wraps him up in a half-nelson before he can do anything!  He floors Edwin with the Joker’s Wild, and as the bloody world champ hits the mat, King dumps him out of the ring and goes back to Thugg!  “They’re tearing Thugg apart!  He’s not going to survive if they keep this up!  Listen to that crowd, NTD—I can’t believe, but these people are getting behind the Hville Thugg!”  Through all the chairshots, Thugg is fighting through, sitting up, throwing punches, but he keeps getting put down!  “He can’t last much longer, and Edwin’s taken out!  Where’s the Carnival?”  The Smarktron suddenly lights up on the Carnival locker room, thuds coming from inside, the door barred from the outside!   “They’re walled in!  There’s no one left!  Someone has to do something--”

 

“LIGHTS OUT!  GUERRILLA RADIO—TURN THAT SHIT UP!”

 

The crowd pops one more time—and the music cuts out immediately as Commissioner McWeed comes charging out the back!  “KING!  BO!  You jackoffs!  What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  Another huge pop!

 

“The commish is finally coming around!” cries Curry!

 

“Who gave you the bright idea to beat Thugg down like that?  Huh?  Was it me?  Was it King?  You guys are in big trouble…”  The crowd is behind the commish now, chanting “STUB-BY, STUB-BY” at the top of their lungs for the first time in ages.  “You’re in big trouble, and you know why?  I said I wanted Thugg taken care of!  I said I wanted him out of my way.  But I didn’t say I wanted Thugg beaten down—I wanted him CRIPPLED!”

 

“WHAT?”  The shocks keep coming, and Stubby P. McWeed throws the microphone down as his chant suddenly dissolves!  “The commissioner—the Pound—Bo—they were all in on this!  I can’t—I can’t believe it!”

 

“You better, Curry, cause Thugg’s a dead man tonight!”  Stubby dives into the ring and starts to stomp away, and Bo raises the chair high…and jams the edge down into the back of Thugg’s neck!  Thugg convulses and stops fighting back, and Bo does it again!  Suddenly, a bloody whirl of color comes leaping into the ring, and the crowd goes nuts for one last hope as Edwin charges in!  He clubs Bo in the back of the head and knocks him away from Thugg, screaming and shouting all the while!  Sacred and JD go for Edwin, but he leaps forward and then falls back, catching them with a double DDT!

 

“Edwin MacPhisto’s cleaning house on behalf of the man who, just minutes ago, was trying to destroy him!”

 

“What an idiot!”

 

“Shut up, NTD!  Edwin’s figured something out, and that’s that there’s a difference between men like Thugg, and men like Bo, King, and Stubby!  Thugg’s a fighter—a warrior!  Not a manipulator!  Not anymore!  He’s being torn apart—I don’t think he’s moving anymore!  This is serious!”  The crowd rallies behind Edwin, but Stubby leaps into the fray, stopping the action and dropping Edwin with a brain-scrambling Paranoid Freak-Out!  Bo gets back up as the crowd boos, and continues to lay in with the chairshots!  

 

“Folks,” gasps Curry, nearly wretching as blood and sweat pours onto the mat, “this is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before….the Hville Thugg, quite possibly the greatest world champion, being destroyed by men who’ve had enough of him in charge!  These egomaniacs, leaving the world champion laying, the Thugg’s health in question…”

 

-----------------------------------

 

The feed cuts back to Stubby standing in the ring, a smile across his face and a swagger in his step.  The chants of “MAC-PHIS-TO” soon turn to chants that we never thought we’d hear again, “X-STA-SY!”

 

(Curry) – I’m sorry, but what those 5 men did to the Hville Thugg on Sunday was nothing short of despicable….heinous.  I mean, these men…well except King and Bo…called Thugg friend.  They looked up to him, followed him wherever he took them.  They took one of the greatest world champions this business has ever seen, and reduced him to nothing…nothing!

 

(NTD) – Yeah, I know…it was great!

 

(Curry) – Shut up!

 

(Stubby) – Yeah, yeah…you can chant his name if you like.  The fact of the matter is that Xstasy quit 2 months ago because he couldn’t take the pressure…because he couldn’t stand the fact that he just wasn’t good enough to be the world champion.  Your cheering for him is completely useless because Xstasy doesn’t have a contract with the SWF, and in fact, my lawyers state that since he was in breech of contract in quitting, the SWF can take legal action against him.  But you all know that ain’t my style, but still…don’t expect a repeat of his little appearance last Sunday night!

 

(Curry) – Yeah!  What a great scene it was when Xstasy came down to the aid of his former best friend.  I mean, I never thought I’d see the day when Xstasy and the Hville Thugg would ever be friends again, but Xstasy, being the great man that he is, came to the aid of his friend, and that’s commendable.

 

(NTD) – A little late, don’t you think?

 

(Stubby) – Beside, he wasn’t in time to stop the most well crafted plan I’ve ever devised.  You see, I just got sick and tired of Thugg…doing whatever he wanted…telling me how to run my show…MY SHOW!

 

(NTD) – That’s right…this is HIS show!

 

(Stubby) – That fat fuck was walking around here like he was big shit…like he was running the show.  He thought that because he won a few matches and was champion for longer than anyone…ever…that he could tell me what to fucking do?  I FUCKING MADE HIM!  

 

(Curry) – He’s starting to sound like the Suicide King now!

 

(Stubby) – Without me, the Hville Thugg ain’t shit!  He’s just some fat ass black guy with an attitude problem!  It was I who gave him his first shot against El Luchadore Magnifico…and I did it despite my intense hatred him and the IGNWO!

 

(Curry) – Bullshit!  You weren’t doing him any favors.  You were just trying to tear the IGNWO apart from within…UGH…I hate it when people twist stories.

 

(NTD) – Shut up and let the man talk!

 

(Stubby) – I’m the one who kept him as champion!  I’m the one who gave him a shot at Stevens only 5 days after he beat Suicide King.  I mean, come on…how could I have made it any easier on him?  I made that motherfucker, and you wanna know how he repays me?  He complains about me hiring some help in the commissioner’s office.   He ruins my main events with his constant interference!  He even forced King, a rookie to the booking game, to change a match on the spot!  And he threatens me?  ME!  The greatest wrestler to ever grace the game…he threatens me??  Who the…ok…ok…sorry, I’m getting a little carried away with myself here.  Let me get to the point…

 

(Curry) – About damn time!

 

(Stubby) – The point is…The Hville Thugg got too big for his britches, so we had to bring him back down to earth.  Let this be a message to all of you in the back, all of you jackoffs in the stands, and all of you geeks watching at home…THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK WITH STUBBY “POTS” MCWEED!!  I want you all to remember this…don’t think for one second that you can get over on me!  When you fuck with the commissioner, this is what happens!  When you…

 

 

“Come with me”

 

(Curry) – YES!!

 

(NTD) – Oh dear.

 

Stubby stops his rant and wheels around to see Xstasy standing on the ramp, his arms outstretched as the crowd cheers their heads off for the returning upstart and “Come With Me” by Puff Daddy and Jimmy Page blasts through the speakers.

 

(Curry) – Yes!  Here comes Xstasy!  The kid…the upstart…the phoenix!  He’ll shut Stubby up!

 

(NTD) – If he weren’t so devilishly handsome, I’d be annoyed.

 

(Stubby) – STOP RIGHT THERE!  YOU CAN’T…

 

(Xstasy) – Ah ah ah ah…whoa.  Slow down Stubbs..just slow down…let these people finish feeling all the joy of X!

 

Oh, the crowd goes ape shit, and a chant of “X-sta-sy” starts up as the Perfect Drug heads down towards the ring.  He slides in, stares at Stubby, and then climbs the turnbuckle on the far left side to perform his classic “X” symbol.

 

(Curry) – Just listen to the ovation for Xstasy!!  These fans love the Perfect Drug…they just love him!

 

Xstasy jumps down from the turnbuckle, and turns to Stubby before pulling the microphone back out from his inside his wetsuit.  Stubby stares at Xstasy, and with out the use of the mic, shows his verbal outrage for the Perfect Drug’s presence.

 

(Xstasy) – What?  You didn’t think we’d come back for your punk ass?  After what you did…cheating me out of the World Title, you didn’t think we’d come back, huh?  You thought we’d just crawl in a hole, never to be seen again?

 

(Stubby) – Wishful thinking on my part I suppose.

 

(Xstasy) – Well, here we are…and WE’RE BACK YOU PINK PAISLEY BEEATCH!

 

The crowd pops like crazy for Xstasy, who continues…

 

(Xstasy) – You know, we went to Broadway, and that was all well and good…Oh, we’d like to thank all the fans who came out and saw the play…

 

(Curry) – Did you see the play??

 

(NTD) – Of course…I saw it the first day.

 

(Xstasy) – But you know…Broadway was good to us…very good.  But after two months on the big stage, we realized where we belonged…right here in front of the X-STATIC SWF FANS!!  

 

More pops from the fans, but Stubby brings those to a halt when he cuts in…

 

(Stubby) – What the hell are you doing here?!?  You don’t work here, and you need to get the hell outta my ring.  You came back last Sunday to ruin my celebration…a celebration that was rightly deserved considering the hard work I put into making sure the show went without a hitch.  You will not ruin this for me tonight!  You’re lucky I even gave you a match tonight because I shouldn’t have even have done that.  But I was in a generous mood after Sunday, and I thought it’d be nice to see you get your ass kicked by a newbie.  But right now, you need to get the fuck outta my ring until your match, and then maybe…maybe…maybe I’ll think of offering you a contract.  

 

(Xstasy) – Oh…yeah…Stubby…we almost forgot you were here.  Well, don’t worry…I won’t take much of your precious time oh great Stubby Mc-suck-my-left-toe.  Because honestly, after what you did last Sunday night…I really don’t want to talk to you.  But I know someone who does, and he’d like to deliver a message…Sam…roll it.

 

(NTD) – Oooo!  A message…from who?  Is it Santa Claus?

 

(Curry) – Maybe it’s the pants fairy!

 

The SmarkTron fires up once more, and everyone in the entire arena focuses their attention as the black fades up to a face…an angry face…an angry black face!  At first, the face simply stares furiously into the camera as the fans untraditionally erupt into cheers.

 

(Curry) – It’s Thugg!  He’s awake!  I didn’t know he’d become conscious!  Hell yeah…I can’t wait to hear what he’s gotta say to that son of a bitch Stubby!

 

(NTD) – If you shut up, maybe we’d hear him.

 

The camera is very close in on HVT’s face, which is all you can see at this point, and when Thugg speaks, he starts in a very low, monotone voice.

 

(HVT) – Stubby.  Stubby P. McWeed.  Stubby…Stubby…Stubby…

 

(Curry) – Whoa…he looks pissed…dear god.

 

HVT licks his lips as he pauses, the veins in his head nearly breaking through the stitched used to close the wound on his forehead.

 

(HVT) – Stubby “Pots” McWeed… you stupid son of a bitch.  You shouldn’t have killed me cuz…you should have killed me.  If you’re seeing this, then that means that I didn’t get out of the hospital, and I’m not there to wreck yo shit myself.  Yo man…you done fucked wit the wrong nigga…the WRONG NIGGA!

 

HVT’s face starts to shake with rage as his voice rages…

 

(HVT) – YOU STUPID MUTHA FUCKA!!!  DON’T YOU KNOW?!?  DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ UNDERSTAND?!?  YOU SHOULD’VE FUCKIN’ KILLED ME!  YOU HEAR THAT?  KILLED ME!  Why didn’t you Stubby…why?  Why not just finish the job, huh?  

 

HVT takes a deep breath and sighs, showing that he’s obviously hurting.

 

(HVT) – Yo, peep this Stubby.  As I lie up in this hospital bed, all I can think about is you…YOU!  ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IT WHAT YOU DID TO ME!  HOW YOU TURNED YO FUCKIN’ BACK ON ME!!  HOW YOU MADE IT YOUR PLACE TO TAKE ME DOWN!  HOW YOU USED 4 MUTHA FUCKAS TO TAKE ME OUT!  HOW YOU…well, congratulations Stubby.  Congratulations.

 

The camera zooms out, showing Thugg in full, lying on a propped up hospital bed with a very intricate neck brace around his neck.  For the first time in his career, the Hville Thugg looks totally helpless and vulnerable.  But you couldn’t tell him that…

 

(HVT) – CONGRATULATIONS!!  LOOK AT ME!!  LOOK AT ME STUBBY!!  I’M LAYING UP IN A MUTHA FUCKIN’ HOSPITAL BED!!  I CAN’T FEEL MY FUCKIN’ LEGS!!  LOOK AT THESE STITCHES IN MY HEAD!  LOOK AT THIS FUCKIN’ BRACE AROUND MY NECK!  I CAN’T FUCKIN’ WALK!!  DO YOU HEAR ME STUBBY…I CAN’T FUCKIN’ WALK!  DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I DIDN’T REGAIN CONSCIOUSNESS UNTIL 5 HOURS AGO?!?  DO YOU?  YOU FUCK!  I FUCKIN’ SWEAR TO…

 

HVT takes another breath to calm himself…

 

(HVT) – The doctor says that I have to remain calm as not to disrupt anything.  You see Stubby, you should be proud of yourself…you really should.

 

(Curry) – Oh, don’t worry Thugg…he is.

 

(HVT) – But you should also be scared…very scared!  And I know that you’re standin’ in the ring right now, shakin’ in yo boots.  You probably lookin’ at my nigga X right now, thinkin’ he’s gonna jump you from behind or something.

 

Sure enough, Stubby was looking directly at X at the time, but as soon as he hears those words from HVT, he shoots his eyes back to the SmarkTron.

 

(HVT) – It’s all good Stubby.  Breath easy…X ain’t gonna be fightin’ my battles for me.  Nah cuz…I fights my own battles.  So you can relax and breath easy…as long as I can’t fuckin’ walk.  But know this Stubby, when I can walk again…I’m coming for you.  I’m coming for you…I’m coming for Bo…I’m coming for King…Jay Dawg…Sacred…all of you!  Know in the back of your mind, that I could show up!  And one day…I will!

 

(Curry) – Wait a second.  Is Thugg saying what I think he’s saying?

 

(HVT) – I FUCKIN’ WILL!  YOU HEAR THAT SHIT CUZ?  I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE ON ALL OF YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME!  LOOK AT THIS SHIT!!  LOOK AT ME!!

 

HVT starts to rip wires and suck off his chest in anger, and a quick pan around the room shows doctors and nurses all jumping to run to HVT…

 

(HVT) – YO!  ANYONE OF YALL BITCHES TOUCH ME, I’M A FUCKIN’ KILL YOU RIGHT HERE!  DON’T FUCKIN’ TOUCH ME!

 

The nurses and such halt in their tracks, not wanting to see Thugg’s wrath, even without the use of his legs.

 

(HVT) – But for the time being Stubby, relax and breath easy.  I’m not coming tonight…or even tomorrow…or the next day.  In fact, it seems that I will never set foot in a ring again in my life.

 

Oh boy, the boos are deafening in the arena at the idea that Thugg will never wrestle again, and somehow, HVT anticipated this and takes a pause for the cause.

 

(HVT) – That’s right Stubby…the doctors tell me that I got a broken neck.  Ha ha ha ha ha ha…I gots a broken neck.  YOU HEAR THAT!!  A BROKEN FUCKIN’ NECK THANKS TO YOU!!  I MAY NEVER FUCKIN’ WALK AGAIN!!

 

(Curry) – I think Thugg’s lost it.  I think he’s delirious!  One minute he’s laughing, the next he’s screaming.

 

(HVT) – {after taking a breath to calm} And I know for sure, I’ll never wrestle again.  Now Stubby, this’ll make you happy…this is exactly what you wanted.  So here it goes…

 

(Curry) – No!  No!  NOOOOOOO!!!

 

(NTD) – Oh this is a sad day…

 

(HVT) – Stubby McWeed, as of this moment, I, Damien McKinney, otherwise known as The Hville Thugg, hereby announce that I am retired from the Smarks Wrestling Federation!

 

Another pause allows the fans to gasp in shock, and then boo for their disapproval.

 

(Curry) – No…{sob}…say it isn’t so.

 

(NTD) – I wish I could Curry…I wish I could.

 

(Curry) – Just when I was starting to like the big lug…DAMN YOU STUBBY!!  DAMN YOU TO HELL!!

 

(HVT) – Did you like that Stubby??  Did that feel good??  DID IT?!?  DO YOU FEEL A SENSE OF ACCOMPLISHMENT NOW??  DOES IT FEEL GOOD KNOWING THAT YOU NEEDED 5 MUTHA FUCKAS…5…TO TAKE ME OUT?!?  {sigh}…Well, fuck you very much Stubby…you succeeded.  You will never see the Hville Thugg in the ring again.  BUT!!

 

HVT waves his hands at the camera, motioning it closer…

 

(HVT) – Get in here Phoenix…

 

The camera gets back up in Thugg’s face, just as the segment started.

 

(HVT) – But…but Stubby…but…I will have my revenge.  Each one of you will feel pain…you will feel my wrath…you will feel the rage of the angry black man.  It won’t be today…it won’t be tomorrow…but when it’s time, you will all perish.  King…Bo…Jay Dawg…Sacred…and you Stubby…you will all feel the pain.  You will all feel my wrath!

 

HVT sighs yet again…

 

(HVT) -  But for now…rest easy Stubby.  Rest…breathe…feel safe.  But always remember though, I will come someday, to seek my revenge.  I’ll be watching, and waiting…waiting until I can kill each and every one of yall bitch ass niggas.  It won’t be in the ring…hell, it may not even be at an SWF show.  I might come to yo house, fuck yo girl, and then kill you.  But you will feel it…remember that shit you fuck!  I may be retired, but you will feel the wrath of the angry black man…cuz for real son…I’M GONNA WRECK…YO…SHIT!

 

The camera focuses on HVT’s angry face, and then cuts to black, leaving an entire arena in shock.

 

(Curry) – I just…I just can’t believe it.  I can’t believe that he’s gone.  I can’t believe the Hville Thugg is retired.

 

(NTD) – Me neither…I can’t imagine this fed without him.

 

There’s an eerie silence that falls over the announce table as Xstasy turns back to Stubby, continuing where he left off.

 

(Xstasy) – Now…let me update everyone on Thugg’s condition, since that was recorded 3 days after the PPV.  I was just at the hospital last night, and the doctors told me that his condition is stable, but he still can’t use his legs.  The doctor also assured me that he will never wrestle again…ever.

 

(Stubby) – Oh…that’s so sad…watch me care.

 

(Xstasy) – That’s ok Stubbs…that’s fine.  But I promise you, he’ll have his revenge.  As will I…and then you will know…no!  Scratch that, you will never know!  But all the men and women…AND ESPECIALLY THE WOMEN…will know ALLLLLLLL THE JOY…OF X!

 

“Come With Me” hits the speakers as the fans erupt from their shocked trance.  Xstasy exits the ring on the ramp-side, and Stubby watches him all the way up the ramp.

 

(Curry) – What a terrible start to Storm!

 

(NTD) – WHAT?

 

(Curry) – What we all feared just became official…the Hville Thugg has been forced to retire from the SWF.  He joins the ranks of Rane, Divefire, Cyclone Comet, Mark Stevens, and many others in the SWF retirement home by the hands of Stubby McWeed and his constituents.  This is a sad, sad day in the SWF, but the show must go on.  We will get to check out Xstasy in action later on when he takes on the newly bumped Ash Ketchum, but it looks like he’s got a bit of a bone to pick with Stubby.  We’ll have to just wait and see…

 

(NTD) – Indeed.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Annie Eclectic vs. Xero

- Annie returned on Crossfire, and revealed that Lady Red was in fact her sister all along!  Eclectic will face fellow rookie Xero in her first WF match.

 

TAG TEAM MATCH

El Luchadore Magnifico & Johnny Rotten vs. Chris Wilson & Stryke

- Chris Wilson returned on Sunday and quickly set about pissing just about everyone off…including Magnifico by claiming he was responsible for the Luchadore’s success. Rotten and Stryke have battled over the hardcore title.  Tag team fun on Storm!

 

SINGLES MATCH

Munich vs. Durandal

- The villainous Durandal makes his singles debut against Munich.  Will Durandal be able to beat the veteran?

 

US TITLE MATCH

Jay Dawg © vs. Chris Raynor

- Jay Dawg managed to convince Stubby to postpone this match, giving him more time to prepare.  Dawg won’t be able to avoid Raynor this Friday though…

 

NON-TITLE MATCH

Ash Ketchum vs. Xstasy

- Xstasy returned in grand fashion on Sunday, and will take on the newly crowned hardcore champion in his first match back with the company.

 

3/5 FALLS MATCH FOR THE ICTV TITLE

Fallout © vs. Sacred

- These two have fought several times in the past.  On the PPV Fallout managed to beat Sacred, making his record against the Australian 5 to 0 in singles matches.  Sacred wasn’t happy about this and challenged Fallout to gruelling 3/5 falls match for Storm!  Whether Fallout accepts or not, Stubby will force him to take part in the match, so the question becomes…will Fallout escape with his title this Friday?

Match Description – DQ and count-out rules are in effect.  Submissions, pinfalls, disqualifications, count-outs and knockouts all count as “falls”.  The first wrestler to score 3 falls is the winner.

 

SWF HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE MATCH

Edwin MacPhisto © vs. Perfect Bo

- Going into the Crossfire main event, Bo seemed to be allied with Edwin against the Hville Thugg.  As the match dragged on though, Bo began attacking Edwin.  Finally with Edwin the new champ Bo, da Pound and the Suicide King ran down and attacked the already beaten former champ, revealing that they had been in league against Thugg all along.  Edwin tried to help, but couldn’t save Thugg before he received a vicious beating.  On Storm the traitorous Bo will take on Edwin for the richest prize in the SWF today!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

(The Tulsa Convention Center goes nuts as the opening for SWF Storm appears on screen. The camera pans over the crowd, holding signs such as "Why didn't you TELL me she had a sister?!?!?" and "Bo, no, show, Go MacPhisto!" We now see the announcers at their respective table, Curry and NTD...)

 

Curry: Welcome to SWF STORM! I'm Curry Man, and with me as usual is my lackapantsical closet-living partner himself: NTD!

 

NTD: I would retort to that comment with my sabre-like reparte and rapier wit, but I'm just too excited about this card!

 

Curry: NTD: Unless you start wearing pants, please do not put any type of sword and the word 'excited' together in a sentence, thank you.

 

NTD: Whatever works for you, I'm not giving in to your sick fantasies. But anyway, tonight, we have Perfect Bo, all set to pry away the World Championship from that desgrace to the belt, Edwin MacPhisto!

 

Curry: We also have the postponed match from Crossfire, the match you *didn't* get to see: Jay Dawg defending his United States crown versus newly returned Chris Raynor. A rare three out of five falls match for the ICTV title with Fallout defending against Da Pound's own Sacred, the new Hardcore champ has a non-title match versus the returned Xstacy, and of course, our first match tonight, the returning...

 

NTD: Natch.

 

Curry: ...NTD, read this.

 

(Curry passes NTD a card with a reubus drawn on it.)

 

NTD: S... plus... Jabba? Y and Paddle.... a Pie.... and a ditch?

 

Curry: Never mind.... as I was saying, the returning Annie Eclectic, a woman who was held by the Clan while the rest of the world, us and the fans included, blissfully believed that she was Lady Red when it was her twin sister...

 

(Film footage of Crossfire, the end of Lady Red - Durandal v. Johnny Rotten... Annie Eclectic carrying her unconcious sister up the entrance ramp....)

 

Curry:  ...takes on another newcomer to the Smarks Wrestling Federation: Xero!

 

NTD: An impressive youngster this is. He's had success in not only wrestling, but Formula One racing, and has a delicous mean streak to boot. Angering this one is not smart, as you can ask quite a few Junior Leagers, or even SWF superstar Munich!

 

Curry: That is true, and is it possibly a harbinger of what is to come? Funyon's on his feet for the first time tonight, let's go to the ring!

 

(The camera switches to a front on shot of the ring, where an immaculately tuxedoed man stands with microphone in hand...)

 

Funyon: Ladies and Gentlemen, our first match tonight is set for one fall....

 

(A loud synthesized blast of trumpet fanfare echoes throughout the Convention Center the fans looking up in surprise at this odd musical introduction. the SmarkTron shows intertwined translucent profiles of a striking Asian beauty.... when simultaneously the Tron shows the words 'Annie Eclectic' on screen, hard thrashing guitar riffs of Andrew W.K.'s "I Get Wet" fill the arena, high blasting white pyrotechnics go off, and a figure streaks down the entrance ramp full speed, sliding underneath the bottom rope into the ring and standing up before the pyro blast has enough time to cool down and smoke. The figure immediately stares at Funyon for a split second with a manic smile and proceeds to face the opposite side of the ring, looking at the fans.)

 

Funyon: From Chicago, Illinois... weighing in at one hundred fifty five pounds... *visibly winces at the next words on the introduction card* she is the Delectable....

 

(The woman points her right index finger straight out to her right, at the audience...)

 

Funyon: *rolls eyes* Collectable....

 

(She sweeps her arm in an arc, her arm and eyes moving as one until they point to her left....)

 

Funyon: *winces again* Eclectic....

 

(She now quickly straightens her arm ahead of herself and makes a thumbs-up motion with her hand....)

 

Funyon: ANNIE.... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! (....and points it sharply to herself, a humourous pop being elicited from the crowd.)

 

NTD: You know.... I'm going out on a limb for this one... but I'm guessing she wrote her own introduction for that...

 

Curry: Really? I'm surprised a brain like yours was able to handle such high logic!

 

NTD: Really... it was nothing.

 

(Annie Eclectic moves back to her corner, taking off her green with blue pinstripe jacket and showing off her matching slacks and pink Angelic top. "I Get Wet" slowly fades out as the arena instantly goes pitch black. The leadin riffs from "Master of Puppets" by Metallica play for a few seconds before fading.... until the chourus suddenly blares to life inside the Convention Center as a spotlight shines on a bald man with a blonde goatee, sporting purple trunks with black stars on the knees....)

 

Funyon: And his opponent, from Port Colbourne, Ontario, Canada... weighing in at one hundred ninety nine pounds.... he is... Xeeeeroooooo!

 

(Xero walks towards the ring, red pyrotehnic blasts accompaning his steps as the crowd jeers at him. He takes the first step up the steel ring steps before turning to face the crowd and spitting back snide comments of his own towards the fans.)

 

Curry: The crowd is apparently still angry over what Xero pulled in his loss to Munich at Crossfire. A vicious attack with no rhyme or reason...

 

(Xero reaches the ring apron, his back towards the ring as he yells to the fans. Turning to enter the ring, Xero gets caught full on by a high Dropkiss from the Angel, sending the bald man flying outside and landing against the fan barrier.)

 

DING DING DING

 

NTD: Which is followed by this ... *woman* attacking Xero with his back turned!

 

Curry: NTD, that's hardly a series of chairshots meant to cripple him!

 

NTD: Yeah, but it could disfigure his pretty face, and he might lose all that endorsement money and all the cute groupies that go along with it?

 

Curry: Endorsement groupies?

 

NTD: *sigh* I remember when I had endorsement groupies.... tight jean shorts..... baby blue eyes..... where are you Brandon?

 

Curry: *boggles*

 

(Annie E steps through the ropes onto the ring apron, as the referee begins to count. With a leap and a gasp from the audience, Annie E aims a flying elbow at Xero.... but misses as her elbow gets jammed into the steel barrier!

 

ONE

 

(Xero takes the opportunity to land a couple swift jabs at Annie E, but gets his third strike blocked. The Angel reaches back with her left fist and drives it into Xero's forehead staggering the larger fighter back...)

 

TWO

 

(With a quick rush, Annie E follows the hard punch in with a hard lariat, dropping the goateed man to the floor. As Xero turns to get to his feet, the Smooth One slides back underneath the ropes, and waits for her opponent to return...)

 

THREE

 

Curry: Annie is showing a bit more strength in her attacks, that punch caught Xero by surprise.

 

NTD: Bah, that was merely Xero trying to figure out why Annie was hitting on him if she's a lesbian! *snickers*

 

Curry: That was easily the dumbest thing you've said tonight. But don't worry folks, the night is still young!

 

FOUR

 

(Xero gets to his feet, and stares at his opponent. Annie stares back, simply smiling, giving Xero a wink....)

 

FIVE

 

(Xero scowls and slides into the ring, breaking the count. Xero stands still in the center of the ring, motioning for Annie to bring whatever she has at him. With a laugh, Annie nods her head, then rushes at Xero, the two locking up in a collar-elbow tie up. The two struggle for a superior hold until Xero prevails, locking in a headlock on the Angel. Annie struggles to find an escape until she shoves Xero off towards the ropes while dropping immediately to the mat. Xero returns from the ropes forced to leap over the rolling Annie E, while Annie gets up after Xero's hop. Rushing after Xero, the two meet at the ropes where Annie E clotheslines Xero again, sending him tumbling to the outside much to the joy of the crowd. Xero gets up to his feet quickly, lookgin straight into the ring where Annie is simply standing, waiting for his return. Annie winks again at the bald man, this time adding a kissy-face. Xero raises and eyebrow, but shrugs whatever thought he has and grumbles, sliding back into the ring.)

 

Curry: Annie is putting a bit of trash talk into this match... I'm not sure if it's wise to give Xero so much slack in a match...

 

NTD: Bah, she just wants to keep his face pretty, can't you see how she adores him?

 

Curry: I think you're putting other people in your place again.

 

NTD: I don't adore Xero! Bah, I've got bigger fish to fry... *takes out his wallet and opens it* (whispers) you can put me on a leash Jamie... I'll be your dog any day....

 

Curry: I can't hear NTD right now. My mind would commit suicide rather than process what is being said. Oh look, a garden gnome....

 

(Xero and Annie again tie up, each vying for superiority over the other. This time, Annie E gets the headlock on Xero, but Xero is able to push off in time, before Annie has time to bounce off the ropes, Xero hop steps sideways, and on her return, lands a vicious Superkick to the jaw of Annie E, sending her straight down to the mat. Xero immediately falls on the Angel for the cover...)

 

ONE....

 

TWO....

 

THR....KICKOUT!

 

Curry: Close pinfall, and Xero caught everyone by surprise with a hard savote kick to the Angel, and he has taken control of the match.

 

(Lifting the Smooth One back to her feet, Xero whips her to the ropes, kicking his leg high before the return and clotheslining the Angle with his leg. Dropping to his knees, Xero immediately puts his left hand across Annie E's throat, squeezing her neck and stopping any air from entering.)

 

Curry: Blantant chokehold from Xero and the referee is begining to count for a DQ...

 

NTD: What? That looks like a perfectly legal hold to me...

 

Curry: (glancing at NTD) Are you blin... OH GOD! (turns away) Why do you have a picture of yourself... doing.... (vomits)

 

NTD: I am such a hot piece of ass, I am. How can I not get the Cock....?

 

ONE

 

(Xero keeps the hold on, trying to squeeze the life out of his opponent...)

 

TWO

 

(Xero keeps the hold, seething at the booing audience...)

 

THREE

 

(Xero releases the choke, only to grab onto the short raven hair of Annie E and lift her head off the mat, only to bash it against the mat. Xero repeats the attack, the crowd jeering him mercilessly.)

 

Curry: (sitting straight) Ugh... surrounded by despicable pictures and a dispicable fighters, Xero using less than honorable attacks to wear down his opponent.

 

NTD: There's nothing dispicable about anything here, except maybe the jezebel in the ring, ruining her sister's career and hogging the spotlight for herself

 

Curry: Are you crazy? She was kidnapped and held against her will so her twin could steal her identity!

 

NTD: Spin it how you will, I know the truth... hey Curry, check this out...

 

(Curry glances over at the smiling NTD holding up the rude self-portrait again. Curry ducks back under the table and bile-inducing sounds are heard)

 

NTD: Some people have no taste....

 

(Rising to his feet, Xero backs up to rebound off the ropes, dropping a leg onto the throat of Annie E. Xero rises and again goes to the ropes, returning with a high leg drop across Annie's throat. Looking at the audience, Xero makes a throat slitting motion with his thumb. Xero gets up and goes to the near corner, climbing to the top rope. Standing to his full height, Xero raises a bent arm and pats the elbow, pointing down to  his fallen foe...)

 

Curry: OH no, this could be serious! Xero has already done quite a bit of damage to the larynx of the Angel tonight, and it appears as if he's about to drop an elbow right on her throat, that could possibly end her career if not worse!

 

NTD: GOOD! Let it happen, the jealous bitch deserves it for how she treated her family....

 

(Xero points toward the downed Annie, and leaps high into the air, positioning his body so that the point of his elbow is the first part to land right on the throat of the Angel.... who isn't there when he lands! The pop from the crowd is huge as Annie E rolls out of the way in time as Xero rolls back holding his elbow in obvious pain.)

 

Curry: There's a reason they're called high risk maneuvers folks, you just saw why, as Xero drives his elbow into unforgiving canvas and Annie E has a second chance in this match!

 

NTD: Yay. Woo. Who cares, I should just tap Xero giving him a DQ win then we can both beat her down and laugh at the gentlemen's club after. Possibly with brandy and cigars.

 

Curry: Really? As I was thinking that you would beat her down, then give Xero the valentine's day card you've waited six months to give, even though you're three months too late, then hope that he'd invite you to his birthday party where you'll be bestest pals forever, wrestling in the dirt and playing with his dog Foo Foo Fuzzybear.

 

NTD: YOU'VE BEEN READING MY DIARY HAVEN'T YOU? HOW COULD YOU?!?!?!?

 

Curry: *boggles* I gotta stop guessing with you, I'm right way too often.

 

NTD: Guess? Ha ... ha ha.... you fell for my trick just like I knew... you would... ha.

 

Curry: O...kay...

 

(Annie rises to her feet as the crowd begins to chant "An-nie E! An-nie E!". Standing up, the Angle rushes towards the seated Xero, and plants a hard dropkick to the hurt elbow of Xero, pinning the joint against his ribs and knocking him to his side. Xero rolls with the hit, sliding to the outside and holding his arm. Wincing in visible pain, Xero begins to yell at the referee as Annie beckons him to return to the ring. The crowd jeers at Xero who walks around the ring, milking the count to rest his arm. Xero turns to yell back at the audience while the referee counts 'FIVE', blissfully unaware of Annie E's running start. Jumping high and turning her body horizontal, Annie flies over the top rope, splashing the back of Xero, forcing him to fall face first with the added weight of Annie on top of him. The crowd cheers loudly for the high risk attack.)

 

Curry: Xero really has to learn not to turn his back to the Angel, she isn't afraid to make a high risk attack.

 

(Getting back to her feet, Annie E lifts Xero to his and rolls him back into the ring. Xero rolls up to his knees and starts to rise as Annie follows him into the ring. Before she can get to her knees, Xero rushes over and stomps her back to the ground. The Angel tries to get back up but another stomp comes her way from Xero, who is still visibly favoring his elbow. More stomps follow and more jeers erupt from the crowd, angry at Xero. Pulling Annie E up to her feet by her hair, and getting a warning from the referee in the process, Xero hits Annie at the chest with a hard chop. Another chop send s the Angel reeling back wards and a third slumps her against the corner. Grabbing Annie's hand with his good arm, Xero whips Annie towards the opposite corner but then jerks back the opposite way, sending the Angel face first into the corner. The blow from the turnbuckles staggers Annie E backwards, right into the waiting arms of Xero, who worms one arm behind Annie's arm, and the other across her throat...)

 

Curry: Crossface Chickenwing! Xero slaps on the crossface on Annie, but she is struggling against it...

 

(Annie tries to wedge her hand in between Xero's arm and her throat... she gains the tiniest bit of space, allowing air to again enter her lungs, but Xero doesn't give up with the vicious submission hold. Lifting Annie slightly off the ground and shaking her mercilessly. Xero puts Annie on her feet and attempts to cinch the hold in harder, but a twinge suddenly stops his arm from contracting, and it falls away just long enough for Annie to duck and step back, dragging the weakened arm with her. Snapping her other arm around Xero's throat, Annie locks in wrist to hand, cinching in her own Crossface Chickenwing. The stunned Xero brings his hand up, hoping to cause a break in the hold, but Annie E twistsher leg around on of Xero's, the lifts enough to easilty trip her opponent forward, falling with him...)

 

Curry: We haven't seen this in a long time, but Annie drops Xero in a Crossface... it may be time for the Triple C!

 

NTD: No! This Lady Red wannabe could never pull a match out!

 

Curry: Xero's arm is hurting, and that arm is the one cinched up, if Annie E can set up the clutch this could be all over!

 

NTD: But Xero is close to the ropes, he could break it! C'mon Xero, dont let a woman beat you!

 

(Xero struggles against the hold, but his free arm can't lift both bodies enough to try to break the hold. Annie E rolls back from her knees to her feet, dragging Xero's torso and head with her. Xero twists and turns as much as he can, but it isn't enough to stop Annie from firnly placing her elbows on top of her knees, locking in the Triple C.)

 

Curry: She has it, and the crowd goes nuts! This could be a rude awakening for Xero, and Annie E's first official win in the SWF!

 

NTD: Never! He's near the ropes, Xero has enough strength and guts to make it through this!

 

(Xero reaches out with his free hand, trying to grab onto the near rope, hoping to break free from the painful hold pulling his shoulder away from the socket and slowly chocking the life out of him. Through blurred eyes he can see the referee ask for a submission, but Xero shakes his head and reaches out.... the rope seems a mere inch away as Xero begins to try to push himself forward with his feet and free arm. Annie E shakes her head and pulls back harder, hoping to make her opponent give up. Her face, a mask of frustration and exertion, scream out as her strength begins to ebb and Xero is allowed a bit of release forward.... giving him just enough reach to grab onto the rope! The referee pulls against the Angel, and Annie E is forced to let go.)

 

NTD: YAY!

 

Curry: Close call for Xero, but he got just enough slack from the Smooth one to allow him to get a rope break.

 

(Annie E rolls off her opponent and Xero too strugles to clear the cloudiness from his mind. Xero feels himself being dragged to his feet and whipped towards the ropes. In desperation for time, Xero forces his body to stop, and whips Annie to the ropes. Xero bends down for a backdrop, but Annie E stops herself in mid stride and kicks Xero in the face, whipping his body to a standing position. Taking advantage of her stunned opponent, Annie kicks Xero hard in the stomach doubling him back over. Annie wraps her arm around Xero's head and looks towards the audience, a manic grin appearing on her face. Grabbing Xero by the top of his trunks, Annie lifts Xero high into the air, his body slanting up with his head low towards the mat, and then falls back, driving Xero down onto his head with the weight of his own body added to the blow.)

 

Curry: WHOA! We saw Annie E attack Durandal with that same move! Annie just drove Xero's head through the mat... and the cover!

 

(The referee slides in to count...)

 

ONE....

 

NTD: No! Illegal use of the tights!!!

 

TWO....

 

NTD: Not this way!

 

THREE!!!!!!!

 

 

DING DING DING

 

 

("I Get Wet" by Andrew W.K. blares inside the Convention Center for a second time as the referee raises Annie Eclectic's hand in victory. Annie slides out of the ring and begins dancing a weird fast kooky dance to the crowd, who begins chanting her name to the music.)

 

Funyon: Your winner, by way of pinfall: The REAL... Annie.... EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

 

Curry: Annie E gains her first victory in the SWF over Xero, and the crowd is loving it!

 

NTD: What a travesty of justice, I hope this isn't a harbinger of things to come tonight...

 

Curry: Speaking of tonight, we have much, much, MUCH more coming at you, so stay tuned on SWF STORM!

 

(Fade out as Annie E begins to walk up the entrance ramp, arms held high and smiling...)

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SWF Storm returns to a loud and happening Tulsa Convention Center as the camera pans maniacally around, flashing past the differently colored signs before settling down on Curry and NTD, who is working furiously at a Rubik’s cube.

 

“Curry, these things are really hard-“

 

“Welcome back to SWF Storm!” booms Curry, interrupting a confused NTD who quickly shoves the cube back under the table and forces a smile at the camera.  “What a Storm we have for you tonight.  We already saw Annie Eclectic take on Xero, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg that would make the Titanic cringe.  We’ve got our top three single titles being defended, along with the returns of Xstasy and Chris Wilson to SWF programming.  We’re going to see one of those men right now.”

 

“This is going to be an interesting match-up”, notes NTD.  “Mag and Wilson probably have no love lost between them, but three of these men are coming off brutal match-ups at the pay-per-view.  Rotten took a handicap beating from some of the young’ns of the Clan, Stryke lost his Hardcore title in a rough contest and that silly Mexican wowed us again, and probably his doctor, as he won a high-flying, bone-breaking ladder match for the Light-heavyweight title.  Wilson just talked, but he’s been gone long enough that ring rust is probably going to show.  Lets see how these factors add up tonight.”

 

The arena plunges into darkness as a female voice whispers “Midnight Carnival.”  The SWFTron flashes blazing white as the opening beats of “Love Rollercoaster” pumps through the arena, with each flash another letter of “Step Right Up” being etched on the Tron.  Laser lights trace the arena before flaring out in a blue haze as El Luchadore Magnifico, sporting his shiny new title belt, and Johnny Rotten, just as purple strobe lights begins to tear through the convention center.  The crowd reaches its feet in a rousing ovation as the two men begin to walk down the ramp, Mag waving his flag as Rotten stares straight ahead.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag contest is scheduled for one fall!  First, making their way to the ring at a combined weight of 450 pounds, representing the Midnight Carnival, Johnny Rotten and your new S-W-F Light-heavyweight champion, El Luchadore Mag-NIIIIIIIIIIIIIF-ico.”

 

Both men enter the ring and ELM drops his flag before hopping up on the second rope and pumping his fists towards the fan, who give him a usual Carnie ovation, even after the dusty way he won the ladder match against Taylor on Sunday.  He unstraps his title belt and hands it to the referee as he hops off of the rope, spinning in the air and landing just as “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit kicks up.  Four blue fireworks blasting up from the stage, before four silver fireworks blast up from the same spots a second later. Finally, a huge blue flame of pyro blasts up from the middle of the entranceway, and when the sparks and smoke clears, Stryke is standing on top of the entranceway, his arms out in a crucifix position.

 

”And their opponents..first, hailing from Sydney, Australia, and weighing in at 219 pounds….Steeeee-RRRRYKE!”

 

After standing there a moment to absorb the thunderous boos of the crowd, Stryke heads down the ramp and stops at the base of it, staring up at the Carnies with his head cocked to the side, a nasty little smirk on his face.  The crowd doesn’t slow down the booing as the lights drop out in the arena and a soft female voice begins to coo…

 

“Ah….ah…ah……..ah………ah…ah……..ah…….”

 

“I am the king of this city, top down, windows up, puffing like diddy…”

 

The crowd crescendos as Chris Wilson steps out from behind the curtain, making his in-ring return to Storm.  He pauses there for a moment, before walking slowly down the ring, locked in a stare down with the Carnies through fiery lenses.

 

“And finally, hailing from Miami, Florida, and weighing in at 273 pounds….Chris Wil-SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”

 

He soaks up the raw emotion of the crowd as he stops beside Stryke, nods at the young superstar and begins to disrobe, shoving gloves and sunglasses into his pockets before chucking the coat to the side and charging into the ring, followed by Stryke, as the four men begin to brawl.  Stryke and ELM pair off trading blows furiously on one side of the ring as Rotten pounds on Wilson before forcing him into a corner, the referee trying to get some level of control all the while.  Rotten drops a hard elbow into Wilson’s face just as Stryke ducks an ELM clothesline and takes down the new champion with a dropkick to the knee.  He makes the save for Wilson, hitting Rotten from behind and tossing him aside.  Wilson steps out of the ring as Magnifico does the same as he reaches his feet, beginning the match with Rotten and Stryke in the ring.

 

DING DING DING!

 

“You already saw the fire between these four men,” points out Curry, “and this is only going to get nastier.  Stryke and Rotten, who went at it a few weeks ago in a Hardcore championship contest, are beginning to circle each other, each trying to pick out a weakness.  They charge at each other, locking up and giving the stronger Rotten the advantage as he forces Stryke to his knees before locking him in a side-headlock.  Stryke pushes Rotten away and catches him in the back of the knee with a chop block that sends the Carnie stumbling towards the neutral corner.

 

“Stryke trying to take control early,” states NTD.  “He comes up behind Rotten and attempts a bulldog, but Johnny senses it coming and ducks before shoving his opponent sternum-first into the turnbuckle.  As Stryke bounces back, Rotten picks him up and drops him hard to the mat with a belly-to-back suplex.  Stryke rolls back up to his feet, cringing in pain, as Rotten nearly decapitates him with a big-time clothesline.  The crowd hasn’t quieted any as Rotten takes it to a man just as hardcore as himself.”

 

Rotten pulls Stryke up to his feet and continues the motion with an Irish whip into the ropes.  Stryke rebounds right into his clutches of opponent and is taken over with a huge hip toss with enough inertia to send Rotten down with him.  Rotten bounces up to his feet as the crowd gives him a nice ovation for his work, and he walks over to the corner and tags in a waiting Magnifico, who pulls himself up over the tope and charges at Stryke, who is at one knee.  ELM catches him with a knee to the face, followed by a punishing snap suplex that gives Stryke no time to recover.  

 

“This match has been all Carnival so far,” analyzes Curry.  “Stryke has been a whipping boy for the variety of offenses of these two Carnies.  Magnifico now charges at the ropes near Stryke, leaps to the second rope in preparation of an asai moonsault, but Wilson anticipates it and is right there to catch the Luchadore in the face with a right hand, dropping him to the mat.  Stryke uses the advantage to get to his feet and come over to his corner, tagging in his partner.  Wilson eyes him warily a moment, a little reluctant to get into the ring.  I think Wilson is scared of Magnifico!”

 

“That’s crazy!” argues NTD.  “Wilson is..just..umm..nervous to be back in the ring!  He’s been away for a while now and its hard to get back into it.  He’s not scared of that punk.”

 

Wilson steps into the ring just as Magnifico reaches his feet and the two men exchange glares, neither flinching as the crowd buzzes with anticipation.  They begin to circle each other, probing for an advantage.  Magnifico grabs for Wilson’s arm, but is knocked away and grabbed by his own arm and whipped into the ropes.  Wilson charges with a clothesline, but Magnifico easily ducks it and comes off the other rope, catching Wilson with a cross body, but the returning wrestler shows he hasn’t lost too much of a step by rolling through and back up to his feet.  He drops a double-axe handle across ELM’s back, but that doesn’t slow down the Mexican who grabs Wilson’s ankles and sends his rival to the mat with a double leg takedown.  Wilson rolls back up to his feet just as ELM catches him in the chin with a dropkick.  Wilson tumbles to the ground, but only momentarily as ELM jerks him up to his feet and right into an Irish whip.  ELM leapfrogs Wilson the first time and the evil genius goes bouncing off the opposite ropes, right into a high-leg clothesline!  ELM drops down and makes the cover..

 

ONE..

 

 

TWO and barely that as Wilson easily kicks out and gets back to his feet, retreating away from Magnifico and to his corner.  He slaps a confused Stryke on the shoulder and points at Magnifico, who is still on one knee after his offensive barrage on Wilson.  Stryke shrugs his shoulders and steps into the ring, easily up to the challenge.  He charges at ELM, catching him with a shoulder block before he can get his balance.  ELM hits the mat hard, but is right back up to his feet as Stryke grabs him and cinches him up, spinning away from the ropes as he lifts his opponent high into the air and sends him crashing into the mat with a hiiiigh vertical suplex.

 

“Oh, Wilson isn’t scared of Magnifico,” snips Curry.  “He just chickened out after one entanglement with him, which he lost by the way.  I’d say you’re right, NTD.  He’s just nervous.”

 

“Finally, you’re seeing things my way.  Wilson gave the fans a show and now he’s letting Stryke gain some valuable experience against a solid opponent.  And look at Stryke go!  He’s stomping away at Magnifico, jamming him into the corner as the crowd has been quieted here in Oklahoma.  Stryke reaches down and pulls a bewildered Mexican up with him, preparing to lift him up for another suplex.  He lifts him high into the air again…. but Magnifico wriggles free and drops back to back with Stryke.  He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches up, grabs Stryke around the neck and drops down to the mat quickly, snapping the Sydney native down with him in a reverse neck breaker which gets the crowd going again.”

 

Magnifico rolls over onto his stomach and then up to his feet, heads over to the corner and tags in Rotten, who happily climbs back into the ring and grabs Stryke around the neck and stands him up.  He jabs some right hands into Stryke’s face before whipping him into the ropes.  He makes the mistake of telegraphing a back body drop and Stryke hops and twists, sliding back to back with Rotten before he can react.  Rotten is taken by surprise as Stryke reaches down and grabs one of his legs, pulling up and sitting back, locking Rotten in a Boston half crab!

 

Rotten is still wondering how he got in the predicament he’s in at the moment as Stryke latches on, wrenching on Rotten’s leg.  Rotten, facing the wrong direction as there is a rope right in front of Stryke, attempts to work his way across the ring.  He digs his arm into the mat, forces himself military-crawl style towards the other side of the ring.  Stryke throws his head back and lets out a battle cry as he tries to keep Rotten on this side of the ring, but Rotten will not begin to back down, and as he is urged by the crowd, Rotten gets within inches of the bottom rope, reaching out and yearning for the salvation as the hold really starts to tear apart at Rotten’s knee.  It takes a few moments of strenuous pulling Stryke and pushing himself, but Rotten leans forward and drops his arm across the bottom rope!

 

The crowd explodes as Curry makes an observation.  “Rotten got out of the hold fairly easily this early in the match, but the problem is going to be how much damage did Stryke do with that hold before Rotten managed to escape?  Hopefully not enough to factor in later, but the way Rotten is standing gingerly, I’m doubting it.”

 

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” reassures a not-caring NTD.  “Stryke comes at Rotten again, keeping the pressure on and pounding on the Carnie with some right hands.  He whips him into the ropes and as Rotten bounces back, Stryke catches him with a kick to the gut that doubles him over.  He takes a few steps back, leaps in the air and tries for the Recoil across a stunned Rotten…but Johnny steps out of the way and Stryke only manages to hurt his tailbone as Rotten had that finisher well-scouted.”

 

“A little early in the match for your finisher,” advises Curry, “and now Rotten has an opening.  He quickly jams Stryke into a standing headscissors and wraps his arms underneath him.  The crowd pops loudly as Rotten lifts Stryke into the air and slams him hard to the mat with a Pyramid Driver!  Rotten drops down with a lateral press as the referee counts the fall.

 

ONE…

 

 

TWO…

 

 

And Stryke kicks out, but he’s hurting.  Rotten drags him up to his feet and points to the corner, and gets a loud roar of approval from the crowd.  He places one of Stryke’s spread legs on either side of the ringpost, and he’s setting up for the Shattered Dreams!  This will get him disqualified, but Rotten’s never cared before.”

 

The crowd reaches its feet in preparation for the end of Stryke’s dating career, but Wilson barges into the ring and knocks Rotten off of his feet with a hard elbow from behind.  Stryke takes the opening to escape, rolling to the outside and taking a breather as Wilson begins to work over Rotten’s knee, slamming it into the ground and then grinding it while Rotten struggles to escape the assault.  He manages to by driving forward, turning and driving an elbow into Wilson’s head, sending him stumbling back.  Rotten pushes himself up from the ground, favouring one very creaky knee after the half crab and Wilson’s assault.  

 

Wilson keeps the pressure on, coming at Rotten and trying to hook him up with a Russian leg sweep.  Rotten will have none of that and elbows himself out of it.  He grabs Wilson and delivers a brutal head BUTT that rattles the brains of both men.  Wilson is still dazed as his competitor drives a thumb into his throat with the Rotten Spike that sends Wilson staggering like a drunk trying to catch his breath.  He spins around right into Rotten and a heart punch, which simply floors Wilson like he hit a brick wall.  Rotten, heavily winded and needing to tag Magnifico in, decides to go for the win instead and drops down to cover.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

And Wilson gets a shoulder up.  Rotten stands up and turns to head to the corner, but Wilson, still on his back, kicks Rotten’s feet out from underneath him with a sweep to the ankles.  Wilson kip ups quickly to his feet and stands Rotten up in the middle of the ring and delivers a viscous chop across his chest, enticing a “WOOOO” from the crowd before he whips him hard into the ropes.  As Rotten bounces back, Wilson picks him up and spikes him back down hard to the mat with a spinebuster, rattling the entire ring as the crowd drops to a deadly quiet.  Wilson grabs Rotten’s leg and steps around, before picking up the other and dropping back into a figure-four!  The crowd rises to its feet as Rotten writhes in agony, straining for the ropes which seem oh-so-far away at the moment.  Wilson’s face contorts as he tries to put more and more pressure on the already tender leg of Rotten, but the former deputy commissioner doesn’t even think of tapping out as he pushes himself closer and closer to the ropes.

 

“This is going to be close,” predicts Curry.  “Rotten’s leg has been worked over the entire match, and now, if the Carnies want a shot at winning this thing, he’s going to have to get out of one of the most decorated holds ever AND make it to his corner. Not good.”

 

Rotten edges closer and closer to the ropes, fingers twitching in agony as he stretches them to their fullest extent towards the ropes.  The referee asks him if he wants to tap, but he shakes his head furiously and lunges at the ropes again, not reaching them. Rotten grunts loudly as he reaches down deep, stretches out, the crowd beckoning him on…and grabs the rope!  The entire arena explodes as the referee forces a disheartened Wilson to break the hold.  He wastes no time, yanking Rotten up to his feet and whipping him towards the rope, but Rotten shifts his weight and momentum and reverses it, sending Wilson hurtling towards the ropes.  As the crowd continues to cheer, Wilson bounces right back and tries to reverse with a clothesline, but Rotten slips under, crosses his arm under Wilson’s, lifts the Miami native into the air…. AND DRIVE HIM TO THE MAT WITH A ROTTEN URANAGE!

 

“Rotten Uranage!” cries NTD. “Noooooo!  Wilson had this thing wrapped up.  Now both tag team partners are straining from the corners, trying to get their teammates the hell out of their.  Both look like they need that luxury, and both men begin to slide toward the corner, winded and hurt.  Mag is nearly falling over as he leans over the top rope, hand extended, and Rotten slaps it, tagging in the former World champion as the crowd erupts.  Wilson pushes off and slaps Stryke’s outstretched hand a moment later and two fresh men charge into the ring.”

 

“I bet that’s just your dream.”

 

”What’s that?”

 

”Two fresh men-“

 

“Shut up!”

 

Stryke and Magnifico charge at each other, crashing together in the center of the ring with a flurry of blows.  Stryke takes the advantage, kneeing ELM in the gut and wrapping his arms around him.  After a short pause, Stryke snaps back and sends the Mexican hurtling across the ring with a belly-to-belly overhead suplex.  The crowd quiets again as Stryke begins to slowly stand ELM up and tries to slip him on his shoulders for a fireman’s carry, but can’t quite get him up there as ELM wriggles his way out of it and gets directly behind Stryke.  Before the rookie can react, the wily veteran wraps his arms around Stryke’s stomach and lurches back, bouncing the Australian’s head into the mat with a German suplex, bridging over it as the referee drops to count.

 

ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

TH..but Stryke twists a shoulder off of the ground and breaks the count and the bridge.  “Hold on a second,” warns Curry.  “Chris Wilson is down here grabbing a chair from the timekeeper’s table, shoving Funyon out of the way and taking his seat.  He turns to head back toward the ring and assist his partner, but herrrrrre’s Johnny!  Rotten comes charging from the other side of the ring right at Wilson, who has no idea he’s coming.  Wilson takes a step toward the ring and is plowed over by Rotten, who pins him to the ground and begins to pound on him with right hands.”

 

“That’s not fair!” whines NTD.  “Wilson was just getting a seat to watch the conclusion of this exciting match-up.  Rotten has to go and get violent…and now he’s tearing our table apart, to cap it off.  Johnny buddy, calm down.  This won’t get you anywhere in life.  Rotten turns his back on Wilson to continue dismantling our table, but Wilson dives forward and jams a forearm into Naptownian’s crotch, low-blowing him from behind.  Thank the maker we had a tragedy averted.”

 

“And now we’re going to get another one,” senses Curry.  “Wilson grabs a doubled-over Rotten and shoves him into a standing headscissors.  The crowd boos loudly as Wilson lifts him up, wraps his arms around Rotten’s inverted torso and leaps into the air, jamming Rotten into the steel chair with a jumping piledriver!  That was sick!”

 

Rotten doesn’t move at all on the outside as a combination of moves in the ring has the crowd forgetting about the fallen wrestler for a moment. ELM tries for Montezuma’s Revenge, wrapping around Stryke and attempting a jawbreaker, but Stryke unlatches his arms from ELM and knees him hard in the gut before shoving him away.  Stryke drops down into a crouch, poising before exploding with the Heatseeker, his superkick, but Magnifico ducks, it wraps his arm around Stryke’s extended leg and kicks out his base, sending him crashing to the mat and into a pile with a modified front Russian leg sweep.  The crowd cheers tentatively, noticing Rotten still hasn’t stirred and Wilson is now outside the ring with steel chair in hand, but happy the fact that Stryke is now laid out on the mat.

 

ELM stomps on Stryke a few times before hopping up onto the top rope, spinning around to face his adversary before exploding into the air and spinning into a Shooting Star Press.  He comes crashing down on Stryke with the Mexican Pride Press, the crowd exploding as they expect that to be enough to win the match.  ELM drops down and covers, hooking the leg, as the referee drops down to make the cover.  

 

“This is it!” screams Curry.  “ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

 

THRE…AND WILSON PULLS THE REFEREE OUT OF THE RING!  Magnifico looks over to see the smiling face of his former ally, looking up at him as our official lies in a heap on the cement.  Rotten still isn’t stirring over here, and it looks like Mag is on his own here.  Wilson slides into the ring, chair in hand, but Magnifico stomps on him before he can even get to his feet as this sold-out arena explodes as the two men they’ve wanted to see go at it the entire time begin to, Wilson getting up to his feet and dropping his chair while absorbing some hard forearm shots from Mag.”

 

“These two men aren’t exactly the closest of friends anymore,” declares NTD, “and you can obviously tell as Magnifico throws Wilson in the corner and begins to lace knife-edged chops across his chest, the crowd roaring even louder as he hops over the top rope, grabs Wilson around the neck and leaps into the air.  He springs off the top rope, flips over and comes crashing down with a diamond dust on Wilson!  Magnifico pounces back to his feet, pumping his fist in the air as the crowd roars in approval.  Why can’t we ever get an impartial gathering at these things?”

 

“I’m not sure, NTD, but Magnifico is getting very partial to Wilson as he lifts him up onto the top turnbuckle, feeding off the energy of the rabid fans as he climbs up to the top, preparing for the Fall of the Aztecs.  Mag steadies himself, preparing to take down his foe with a super hurricanrana-

 

CRACK!

 

…but Stryke bashes him from behind with the chair that Wilson brought into the ring!  Mag cringes on the top as pain shoots through his back.  He releases Wilson as Stryke grabs him from the top, begins to toss him off with a fireman’s carry but instead twists that into a Diamond Cutter…OVERDRIVE!  OVERDRIVE ON MAGNIFICO!”

 

“Awww…poor wittle wuchadore,” mocks NTD.  “Wilson shakes the last of the cobwebs out up top before pulling himself up to the top turnbuckle and leaping off, spinning in the air and coming down hard on Magnifico with the “Earth to McFly” 450 Splash.  Yes!  Wilson rolls out of the ring and stirs the referee-“

 

“-which he pulled out in the first place-“

 

“-and shoves him into the ring as Stryke drops down and covers Magnifico.  Groggily, the official begins to count as the crowd boos loudly.

 

 

ONE….

 

 

 

 

 

TWO….

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEE!  And Wilson and Stryke do it!  Woo hoo!”

 

The crowd roars in disapproval as Wilson slides into the ring and raises Stryke’s hand in victory as the bell rings and Funyon grabs the mike.

 

“Your winners of this match via pinfall, CHRIS WILSON AND STRYYYYYKE!”

 

Wilson kicks at Magnifico, smiling down as his former friend rolls slowly in a great deal of pain.  “Break Stuff” kicks up through the arena as both men continue to hover over the light-heavyweight champion, preparing to do him more harm.  Wilson grabs the chair as he motions for Stryke to stand ELM up, preparing to blast the half-conscious man with another shot…

 

…but the crowd explodes loudly as Rotten slides into the ring and clotheslines Wilson from behind, sending the former world champion tumbling to the mat!  He grabs the chair and turns towards Stryke, who makes the correct move by dropping ELM and rolling out of the way as Rotten swings at the Showstopper with the chair. Stryke makes a hasty exit, Wilson following, backing quickly up the ramp.  “Love Rollercoaster” kicks up again as Wilson and Stryke throw taunts back at the ring as they disappear back behind the curtain.

 

“Thank God for Rotten,” praises Curry as Johnny rubs his neck and tries to help up his partner, who is also out of it, “or Magnifico would have been in a bad way.  I only can hope that Rotten didn’t sustain any permanent damage from that wicked piledriver on the chair and cement.”

 

“Oh, cry about it,” snaps NTD.  “I wanted to see Wilson and Stryke finish off that stupid Mexican Carnie for good.”

 

“Well, it took Wilson and Stryke in basically a handicap match, along with the use of a chair to take down Magnifico,” reminds Curry.  “I don’t think they would have had a chance in the match if Wilson wouldn’t of knocked out Rotten for the end of the contest with that jumping piledriver on the outside.  Magnifico then proceeded to take down Stryke, beating him if not for Wilson, then took out Wilson, pretty much beating him if not for Stryke.  You can tell that the bad blood between Wilson and the Carnies, specifically Magnifico, hasn’t receded at all and now Stryke has joined in.  We’re going to pay attention to how this turns out.”

 

“You’re full of it,” retorts NTD.  “But stay tuned folks.  Storm is chockfull of great matches tonight, including Edwin MacPhisto making his first title defence against Perfect Bo in the main event, but next is Munich against the Clannie monster Durandal.  Don’t miss it!”

 

Storm fades to commercial with a shot of Magnifico and Rotten making their way slowly up the ramp, the crowd cheering on the two men as everything fades away…

[Guest BA_Baracus]

[Jay Dawg walks into Stubby’s office.  Stubby’s chair is turned away from the camera at an angle so the man sitting in it cannot be seen.]

 

Dawg – About my match tonight…

 

[stubby’s chair turns around, revealing the Suicide King.]

 

King – What about it?

 

Dawg – Hey, you uh…you’re not supposed to be—

 

King – Stubby's busy.  He was pretty pumped up following the whole Thugg retirement.

 

Dawg – Well, I think I may need another week to rehab my foot before I have this match.

 

King – Bullshit…you fight tonight.

 

Dawg – B-but, I don’t have my gear with me, I’m not prepared!

 

King – Well then, I guess I’ll just have to strip you of the title then.

 

Dawg – What?!  You can’t do that!

 

[King leans back in Stubby’s chair.]

 

King – Heh…I just did, now get out of my office!

 

[Dawg tosses his title down on the desk.]

 

Dawg – You’re not gonna’ get away with this…

[Guest BA_Baracus]

We return from commercial break to a…uh…very, very fuzzy close-up.

 

“Gus.  Gus!”  The voice of Ben Hardy echoes somewhere off-camera.  “Gus, what are you doing?”

 

“Uh, well, he said he wanted it to be dramatic!  A big zoom!”

 

“Are you zooming, Gus?  I don’t see any zooming.  Where’s your zoom, Gus?”

 

“Oh, come on Ben,” comes a third voice, a very familiar British voice.  “Leave the poor sod alone.  Now Gus—zooooooooooooooooooooooooom!”

 

The camera zooms out, and the crowd pops huge as the grinning visage of Edwin MacPhisto appears on-screen.  “Keep zoooooooooooooooming!   There’s plenty of zooooooooooooooooooooooom left!”  Gus keeps on zooming, out, out, out—and stops right as Edwin’s World Heavyweight Championship comes into frame!  “Perfect!  Perfect!”

 

“Edwin,” says Ben, holding the microphone, “how did you know when?”

 

“I know these things, Ben.  I just know.”  Edwin makes a ridiculous little flourish with his hands.  “Now, Ben, Gus, let’s go over here, to the comfy chairs!”  The camera pans left, and there sit two old, beat-up maroon leather recliners.  

 

“I thought I was conducting this interview,” says Hardy, shaking his head as he follows after MacPhisto.  Edwin plops in the left chair, Ben in the right, and then Ben speaks to the camera.

 

“Well, if you hadn’t figured it out by now, I’m backstage here with an interview with our brand-new SWF World Heavyweight Champion, Edwin MacPhisto!  Edwin, you’ve just been through hell at Crossfire, competing against both the Hville Thugg and Perfect Bo to grab your first ever World Championship title?  What are you going to do now?”

 

“Well, Ben,” says Edwin, leaning forward, “I think I might just well go to Disney World.  Or Euro-Disney, because it’s really cheap, and I might be able to visit Ibiza while I’m there.  But that’s not what you really want to know—you mean the immediate future, mademoiselle?”

 

“Mademoiselle?”  Ben sighs.  “Look, Edwin, we only have a few minutes—I’m not going to ask you how it feels to be the champion, because you’ve been grinning like an idiot all week long, so I think we well know how you feel.”

 

“Duly noted.”

 

“My first question—how do you feel about having to defend your belt tonight so soon after your brutal Last Man Standing match at Crossfire?”

 

“Ben, it’s ridiculous!  Ridiculous with a double-twist!  I put my body on the line for 40 minutes, barely pull out a win over the Hville Thugg, and yet I’ve got to wrestle again ASAP?  Now, I’m not too happy with it, but you know me, Ben—I’ll embrace the challenge like it was a de-quilled porcupine in search of penance.  I knew Stubby and King would be suitably pissed after what happened on their precious little pay-per-view, and so I just have to sally forth like Long Tall Sally, and show Bo exactly why he was the first man eliminated at Crossfire, and why I’m the man holding the belt.  How’s that for copy?”

 

“That’s pretty good.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Modest.”

 

“Thankee.  NEXT!”

 

“Okay, okay.  My next question: the state of the Carnival.  Where do you think you and your boys are poised to head next?”

 

“Where we always head, Ben!” responds Edwin, pointing to the ceiling.  “The top!  Last summer, the summer of Love and Pandas, as I like to call it, is nothing like what’s going to happen this season!  Titles all around, triumph all around, and more parties than you can possibly imagine!”

 

“I can imagine a lot of parties…”

 

“Can you imagine 20?”

 

“Well…uh…yeah.”

 

“20 really biiiiiiig parties?”

 

“Er…yeah.”

 

“20 really biiiiiiig parties…in OUTER SPACE?”

 

“No, I can’t see you pulling that off.”

 

Edwin shrugs.  “Oh, righty then, you got me there, Ben.  NEEEXT!”

 

Hardy twitches.  “Do you have to shout when you say that?”

 

“YES!”  Edwin beams and looks at the camera.  “Kids, this is how you toy with your inferiors!”

 

“I’m not your—ah, I’m not even going to try.  Anyway, last question before I let you go get set for your match against Bo: the Hville Thugg.”

 

“…that’s not a question, Ben.  At best, it’s a declarative statement, at worst, a mere sentence fragment, utterly without predicate--”

 

“You know what I mean!   Thugg!  What are your thoughts on his situation?”

 

“Okay, okay.  I’ll bite.  Thugg did it—he retired.  In my eyes, he didn’t have a choice.  After what Stubby, Bo, King, and Da Pound did to him…it chills me to remember that I was there, that I saw it with my own eyes.  But he did what was right, and even though we had our differences and our wars, he gave this belt--” Edwin points to the title around his waist –“he gave this belt some of the best months of its life, some of the most impressive reigns I’ve ever seen in any federation.  I just wish he didn’t have to go out like he did.  I wish him only the best, and I hope he gets better…I’m sending him a bottle of margarita mix, but somehow I think he’ll prefer the case of Corona that Raynor shipped over to the hospital yesterday.  Still, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

 

“Uh…I guess you could say that.”  The camera pans back to Ben Hardy, and he fills the frame.  “That’s all for now, ladies and gentlemen.  Edwin, thanks for—Edwin?  Gus, where the hell did he go?”  Gus pans back…and Edwin’s seat is empty.  

 

“He’s so strange sometimes…”

 

“Sometimes, Ben?”

 

“Gus, did I ASK for your opinion?  And call me Mr. Hardy!”

 

“Uh, Ben, I think even I get paid more than you.  Does anyone call you Mr.--”

 

“Gus, this interview is over.  Cut to commercial!”

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SWF Storm returns from a commercial for Trojan-brand condoms featuring HVille Thugg ("Yo, fucka, you tryin to mess wit my shit? Get yo ass away from my dick!") and pans the arena. Fans are seen holding up signs like "Rotten Fears Vicious," "Hallelujah To The 16 Loyal Fans" and the ever popular "This Is Workrate." The fans cheer as photos of Durandal and Munich appear on the screen and then shatter, revealing the Storm logo. Finally, the camera swings over to the announce table, where Curry Man and NTD sit.

 

NTD: *singing* Knock it back, I'll have another one... drinking and driving is so much fun...

 

Curry: What the hell are you doing?

 

NTD: Well, I just found my old Pietasters live album, and...

 

Curry: Don't you know any better? Kids watch this show!

 

NTD: Sorry, kids... if you're going to drink, please don't drive unless you ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO, or if you feel like the alcohol hasn't impaired your ability to drive at all. Remember... if it feels okay, it probably is.

 

Curry: *sigh* We were supposed to have a big match coming up, but Munich's leg was shattered on Sunday after he pinned Xero. Somehow I doubt he'll be competing tonight.

 

NTD: Oh, come on. I broke my leg this morning, and here I am!

 

Curry: Let's go to the ring.

 

The lights go dark. The eerie intro to Stabbing Westward's "Darkest Days" begins to play over the loudspeaker and the crowd bursts into a chorus of boos. The words "SO SAYS THE CLAN" appear in a black Gothic font on the all-white SmarkTron. The words pulsate as Durandal walks through the curtain wearing his black Clan robe. He pauses and folds his arms across his chest in a pose of defiance.

 

Funyon: Making his way to the ring, weighing in tonight at 213 pounds, from Buffalo, New York... He's artificially intelligent... DURANDAL!

 

The fans boo loudly as Durandal comes out of his pose and begins to stride to the ring. When he reaches the ring, he keeps his robe on and motions for the microphone.

 

Durandal: I can't believe this shit. I mean... who booked this match? Munich broke his leg at Crossfire, and HE'S my opponent? Christ. Well, I know he's not going to be here tonight, so I might as well just....

 

Suddenly, the lights go out, and the first few riffs of "Power Struggle" by Sunna bring the crowd to their feet. Blinding white fireworks go off on the sides of the stage, and as the lights come on, behind the curtain, we see... nothing. A few moments later... still nothing. Finally, we see Munich hobbling through the curtain on crutches! The crowd pops like a cherry on prom night as Munich moves toward the ring as quickly as he can... understandably not very quickly.

 

Funyon: And his opponent.... from Chicago, Illinois, and weighing in at 261 pounds... MUUUUUUUUNICH!

 

The fans continue cheering as Munich gets to the ring and, dropping his crutches, rolls into the ring. With his left foot wrapped tightly in a padded boot, he pulls himself to his feet and winces. Referee Sexton Hardcastle looks questioningly at Munich, who yells, "RING THE DAMN BELL!" Hardcastle does so and immediately gets out of the way.

 

Curry: Look at Munich! He just doesn't give up!

 

NTD: I know. He was trying and trying and trying last night, but he just couldn't.... and finally it all paid off.

 

Curry: Do I even want to know?

 

NTD: He was at the slots.

 

Durandal quickly shakes off his Clan robe and, looking at Hardcastle, takes a moment to register that the match is actually underway, then charges at Munich with a dropkick to the knee. Munich, unable to move out of the way, collapses to the mat and scream out loud as Durandal grabs him by his broken left leg and drags him to center ring.

 

Curry: It looks like this one will be short and sweet.

 

NTD: Yours always is.

 

Durandal lifts the leg up and signals for a figure-four leglock. He locks on the spinning toehold, but as he spins around, Munich reaches up and pulls him over in a small package! Hardcastle counts

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

KICKOUT by Durandal, and he's mad as hell! Munich tries to get back to his feet, but Durandal kicks his tender left leg out from under him and Munich goes crashing back to the mat. Durandal gets to his feet and pulls Munich's leg out, then drops an elbow into his knee and wrenches it to the side. Munich screams out as Durandal gets back to his feet and does the same thing again. However, as Durandal tries to get back to his feet, Munich grabs him by the hair and pulls him up his body. Munich slugs Durandal hard in the jaw and tosses him onto the canvas, then mounts him and starts punching him over and over again!

 

Curry: Well, Munich's certainly going to put up a fight here!

 

NTD: Well sure. Would you want Durandal on top of you?

 

Curry: I wouldn't, but...

 

Munich punches Durandal over and over, then winds up and nails Durandal with one final haymaker before he covers him. A shocked Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

KICKOUT! Durandal rolls to his stomach. Munich follows over and rides him like an amateur, trying to keep his hips close to Durandal's to minimize the chance of getting caught in a big move.

 

Curry: What heart!

 

NTD: What heart?

 

Curry: Munich's!

 

NTD: What about it?

 

Curry: He's showing a lot of intestinal fortitude here.

 

NTD: I thought you were talking about his heart, not his ass.

 

Curry: Says the kettle to the pot.

 

Durandal falls into Greco-Roman mode and hugs the mat, refusing to give up anything to Munich. Not a classical mat wrestler, Munich has trouble figuring out what to do and locks on an armbar while he tries to form a gameplan. Durandal spins out to the side to release the pressure, only to have Munich react by instinct and wrap Durandal's arm around his ankle to go for La Majistral! He rolls through, but before he can lock up the cradle, Durandal wrenches the leg and Munich goes completely limp from the pain. He screams out loud and writhes as Durandal stands up and locks on an ankle lock!

 

Curry: And I'll say, "OUCH!" for Munich!

 

NTD: Why?

 

Curry: Well, he's got an ankle lock on him right now.

 

NTD: Why doesn't he just kick Durandal in the head?

 

Curry: The world may never know.

 

NTD: Well, clearly, it's because he's in too much pain to think. God, do some research, would ya?

 

Curry looks offhandedly at NTD, shocked that he'd say something so on-topic and competent.

 

NTD: I felt that way once when I put on a pair of pants. It was just so disorienting, especially when I caught myself in the zipper.

 

Curry sighs contentedly, happy that his commentator is once again vapid and pantsless. Munich, meanwhile, comes to his senses and lunges for the edge of the ring. He grabs the bottom rope and holds on for dear life. Sexton Hardcastle counts "ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!" and then shoves Durandal away, forcing him to break the hold. Mnich winces and tries to pull himself back up to his feet using the ropes, but falls back to the mat as Durandal shakes the ropes from the other side. Munich starts to try again but gets cut off when Durandal slides in and dropkicks his leg. Munich once again screams out in pain as Durandal kicks his sore, fractured leg. He starts to roll out of the ring but reconsiders, remembering that he'll have to get back in somehow. Instead, Munich kicks wildly wth his uninjured right leg, aiming for Durandal's head. Durandal moves away, though, and then hits Munich with a baseball slide dropkick to the head.

 

NTD: Well that's one way to keep a guy from hitting you.

 

Curry: Er, yes. Yes, it is.

 

Durandal grabs Munich by the hair and drags him to the center of the ring. He drops to his knees next to Munich's head and then hits him with a stiff right-handed palm strike to the side of the head, making sure he stays down. Durandal then gets up and walks to the nearest corner.

 

Curry: What do you think he's going for?

 

NTD: Duh, gee, George, I don't know.

 

Curry: Well there's no need to be patronizing.

 

NTD: Can I feed duh rabbits, George?

 

Curry: Now, really, I bet that reference went RIGHT over half the crowd's heads.

 

NTD: You're just saying that because you're hung like a dead mouse.

 

Durandal climbs the cornerpost and mounts the top turnbuckle, facing the center of the ring. He raises his arms high into the air, and the crowd bursts into a chorus of boos. He holds his pose on the top turnbuckle for a few more seconds to soak in the crowd's reaction, then dives off the top rope with a flying headbutt. He floats through the air, then crashes to the mat, driving his head into Munich's sternum. After taking a moment to recover, Durandal rolls on top of Munich, and Sexton Hardcastle counts

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

TH- KICKOUT!

 

Curry: How is Munich doing it?

 

NTD: Obviously, he's not. He's in the ring, and there's NO way they'd allow that.

 

Curry: Do you ever think about anything else?

 

NTD: Yes. I spend my weekends n a mountaintop, contemplating pants. Then, on Monday morning, I always come to the realization that I'm right and you're all wrong.

 

Durandal gets to his feet and yanks Munich up to a standing position, then brutally kicks his left leg out from under him. Munich crashes to the mat, and Durandal falls on top of him with a vicious diving headbutt. Durandal gets back up to his feet and then stomps one foot down on Munich's chest, demanding that Hardcastle count the pin.

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

SHOULDER UP!!!!!!

 

Curry: My god, how much more can Munich TAKE?!

 

NTD: Eight and a half inches, extra thick.

 

Curry: WHAT on EARTH is wrong with you?

 

NTD: My mind is just too boundless for you and your mind, constricted by pants.

 

Durandal looks stunned, shocked that Munich is putting up this much of a fight in his injured condition. Angry, he reaches down and grabs Munich's legs, then crosses them and begins to apply pressure. Munich cries out, and as Durandal continues to pressure the legs, he turns around and rolls Munich to his stomach, locking up the Superior Stretch. As soon as Durandal sits back to lock up the Texas cloverleaf, Munich begins tapping frantically, his never-say-die attitude melting away as Durandal tries his best to break both legs.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!

 

 

Funyon: The winner of this match, by submission, DURANDAL!

 

Durandal stays seated on Munich's back, the Superior Stretch still locked on, as Munich continues tapping to try to get him to release the hold. Sexton Hardcastle jumps onto Durandal. The Clan member releases the hold, only to stiff Hardcastle with a right-handed palm to the jaw. He spins the referee around and, in one fluid motion, locks his hands around Hardcastle's waist and drops him on his head with a vicious backdrop driver!

 

Curry: What a sadist!

 

NTD: I AM NOT!

 

Hardcastle lands on the back of his neck and then flips over, laying on his stomach and barely breathing. Durandal grabs Munich and yanks him back to his feet, then nails HIM with a backdrop driver! Munich lands hard and clutches his leg as Durandal plays to the crowd.

 

Curry: What a sickening display.... ugh.... let's go to commercial.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Aaaaaaaand we’re back inside the Tulsa Convention Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma! The crowd is abuzz for some reason, and they are all CHEERING LOUDLY, waving sings in an attempt to get then noticed on TV. Luckily, we don’t have a sign police here in the SWF, so that “Bo is an ASSHOLE!” sign the Carnie fan in section 208 is acceptable. But soon, we hear the voices of Curry Man and NTD, our JR and King. They seem to be in a heated debate. Let’s see what the fuss is about:

 

NTD: I told you... it’s bun, patty, lettuce, THEN tomatoes, pickles, secret sauce and bun!

 

Curry: Last time I ever take you to McDonalds, Mr. Always Try To Prove Me Wrong.

 

NTD: Thanks for the compliment. I enjoy being compared to GOD... I mean Chris Benoit.

 

Curry regains his composure as NTD smiles, then he turns to face the camera.

 

Curry: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to SWF Storm, live here in Tulsa, Oklahoma-

 

NTD: Of all places, oddly enough. There’s more storminess in this town than in Magnifico’s stomach after he eats three Burrito Supremes...

 

Curry: Thank you for that pleasant thought, Pantless Dork.

 

NTD: It’s nothing really. Would you like another?

 

Curry: God no... now, back to the task at hand. (Curry clears his throat.) At Crossfire, a number of former and new wrestlers showed up. Durandal, Xero, Annie Eclectic, Chris Wilson... and these two men. Xstasy made his presence felt in the main event, helping to protect the fallen Edwin MacPhisto and Hville Thugg from Da Pound and our commissionering team of Stubby P. McWeed and Deputy Commish the Suicide King.

 

NTD: PROTECT? More like attempted murder on Da Pound and Stubby!

 

Curry: However, his opponent tonight also made his presence felt at Crossfire, dethroning Stryke. Newly-crowned SWF Hardcore Champion Ash Ketchum may be a bit new to this fed, but he’s already proved he’s not to be taken as a joke!

 

NTD: Ooooh... Hardcore Champ... I hope he doesn’t hit me with a stuffed Pikachu!

 

Suddenly, Funyon raises the mic to his lips, quieting the crowd...

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen... the following contest is scheduled for ONE-FALL!

 

“… and I want you…”

 

…Suddenly, the arena lights fade to dark…

 

“… and I want you…”

 

… white light flashes from the entryway, crowd rising to their feet…

 

“…and I want you…”

 

… the light flashes faster now, and brighter, crowd getting outta control…

 

“… and I WANT YOU!!!”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!

 

“YOU ARE THE PERFECT DRUG, THE PERFECT DRUG, THE PERFECT DRUG!”

 

The people have already been cheering to the utmost, but once the chorus of NIN’s “The Perfect Drug” hits, they EXPLODE!  A waterfall of golden sparks comes down onto the top of the ramp as a BLINDING white light shoots from the entryway and the silhouette of The Perfect Drug, Xstasy, is projected through the sparks and out to the adoring fans.  He swaggers through the sparks, and down the ramp while the SmarkTron shows his sickest bumps, and he winks at the ladies to either side. Of course, they fall for it, sighing happily as Funyon raises the mic to his lips...

 

Funyon: Introducing first, from The NATION’S CAPITAL (A huge patriotic pop flares up here.), weighing in at 211 pounds, The PERFECT Drug... XXXXX-STA-SYYYYYYYY!!!

 

He leaps over the ropes, landing on his feet, and goes to the turnbuckle, crossing his arms in the sign of the X, much like DX did in the past. Then, X goes to the opposite side and does the same.  

 

Curry: Xstasy is back, and The Perfect Drug hasn’t looked better! He’s back in fighting form, and is going to pose a very tough threat for the Cerebral Prankster to deal with.

 

NTD: Where is the EVIL? There is not evil in this match! Only happiness! Blech!

 

Curry: NTD... what to do with you...

 

NTD: Just don’t hug me... ewww...

 

But suddenly, X turns around, the lights cut out, a kickin’ piano piece blastin’ over the speakers. The crowd begins to cheer a little, pyro similar to Christian’s entrance flowing from the top of the SmarkTron and spewing from vents in front of the entrance.

 

Curry: Wow... this looks like X’s entrance...

 

At the same time, a Poke Ball upon the SmarkTron. It begins to spin as the crowd pops, spinning faster and faster and faster until it stops, blocked out by a picture of a certain wrestler’s head, winking at everyone in the arena. A huge pyro blast kicks up from the front of the stage as  Billy Crawford’s “Pokemon Theme” blasts through the speakers. The fans know that Pokemania is shifting gears and GOING TURBO!!!! The pyro in front of the entrance then stops, and a spotlight shines down on Ash Ketchum and his sexy girlfriend Misty. Turning around from his Jericho-like pose, Misty on his right side, he spins, making eye contact with Xstasy as Misty points out Xstasy and says something to Ash. The light shines off the SWF Hardcore Title wrapped around his waist, gleaming like clean glass on a sunny day. Ketchum nods, then smiles and waves to Xstasy, who smiles, laughing it up in the ring. Ketchum and Misty make their way down to the ring, slapping hands with some of the newly-christened Poke Freaks in Tulsa, Funyon raising the mic to his lips, and in a booming voice...

 

Funyon: And from Pallet Town, being accompanied by Misty, weighing in at 258 pounds, the Poke Freak himself... THE SWF HARDDD-CORE CHAMPION... ASH KET-CHUMMMMMMMMM!!!

 

The Tulsa fans go nuts for Ash as he makes his way to the ring. He enters the ring through the ropes, opening them up to let Misty through, who is looking VERY fine in her cute little green two-piece swimsuit. By-passing the joyous Xstasy, Ketchum pulls his shirt off his body,  and climbing the nearest turnbuckle, lifts it above his head, twirling it a full two revolutions above his head before releasing it, whipping it five rows from ringside, quite a distance for Ash, as he normally only hits the second row. Fans scramble to get a piece of their new found idol’s memorabilia, and the chaos that ensues calls security over to pull the crowd apart.

 

Curry: Wow... this crowd looks hyper...

 

NTD: Damn... what’d they eat before this match? Sugar?

 

Ash removes his Hardcore Title belt, which is taken by the referee to ringside, and as Ash and X look at each other, both smile. They know they are out here to win, but hey, why not give the crowd a great ***** match while they’re at it?

 

Curry: Should be an exciting match between two guys who really can put on one hell of a show!

 

Slowly, the referee explains the rules to the two men, and as he finishes, he signals to the timekeepr. He pulls back the tiny hammer on the ring bell, and bringing it forward...  

 

DING DING DING!

 

NTD: And let this suckfest begin!

 

The crowd whips into a frenzy, both men remaining standing, face to face with each other. X looks up at the taller Ash, but that need not matter. Slowly, X draws his arm back, and bringing it up, slaps Ash underneath the chin with his palm! The weak little Upstart Slap isn’t as strong as it usally is, drawing an “OOOOH!” from the crowd and a hiss or two, but Ketchum’s head does whip back from the blow. X takes a step back as Ash draws his head down, and quickly, he swings his leg up and around, glancing a foot against the head of Ash with a roundhouse kick to the face. Ketchum staggers back a little, grabbing that side of his face as he does. X remains ready as Ash turns around, and as Ash steps back toward his foe, X leaps high into the air, whipping his feet around and planting them in the face of Ash as he flips into a beautiful Mavekick, errrr, dropkick.

 

NTD: Nice dropkick, jackass.

 

Curry: What’s with the language?

 

NTD: He went after Stubby. Tat’s baaaaaad.

 

X hits the mat chest first while Ash falls hard onto his back, but none the less, both men get back up for more. As they get up, though. X leaps into the air, landing on Ash’s shoulders, and quickly, he wraps his legs around Ash’s neck and whips himself forward into a hurracanrana! Ash is whipped around and slammed onto the mat as X releases his hold and quickly covers Ash for the first pinfall of the match:

 

One...

 

 

Tw-Ash brings his shoulder off the mat! Xis flung off Ash, but Ash quickly recovers. X remains down, though, and Ash gets up, X quickly spreads his legs open wider and clasps them around Ash’s ankles. Ketchum trips, falling forward and hitting the mat on his face as a result of the drop toe hold applied to him, but X releases Ash’s legs and both men get to their feet, though not facing each other.

 

NTD: And the jackass hits an AMAZING drop toe hold. Yay.

 

Curry: Oh, shut up. Some people actually want to sit through a match without your bitching.

 

NTD: Bitching, Spicy One? It’s called COMMENTATING.

 

As Ash gets to his feet, his back faces Xstasy. The Perfect Drug senses a chance here, and reaching up as he gets up, he digs his fingernails into Ash’s back and pulls down as if it were a chalkboard, raking Ash’s back! Ketchum screams as the crowd boos the heinous act, but as Ketchum staggers forward, grabbing his back, X grabs Ash around the waistand near the thigh, lifting Ash back and up as he attempts a backdrop, but quickly, Ash uses the lifitng momentum to flip himself over, landing on his feet. X stops in mid-suplex, remaining upright as Ash lands on his feet, but Ketchum quickly grasps Xstasy around the neck and throat, snapping backwards into a half nelson suplex that drives X onto his head! As Ash releases X, though, the lighter man rolls onto his feet while Ash climbs onto his. Quickly, though, Ash turns around as the two men rise up, spinnign and hooking his leg backwards into Xstasy’s face with a standing hook kick! The move doesn’t drop X, but stuns him as Ash spins back around. As that happens, Ash grabs hold of X’s head, placing his own chin underneath it and dropping onto his BUTT, impacting X’s chin upon his head with a sit-down jawbreaker! As Ash releases Xstasy, he bounces away, falling onto his back and grabbing his jaw in pain, but slowly, he gets up, bent over as Ash gets to his feet. Ketchum reacts, and applying a front facelock on The Perfect Drug, Ash falls back, dropping X back into a DDT that plants X’s head into the canvas!

 

Curry: DDT from Ash! A quick move that silences the crowd!

 

Xstasy bounces onto his back due to the resulting move’s feedback, and Ash quickly covers him for a pin...

 

One...

 

Two-X kicks out!

 

Curry: Crowd seems to be behind both men...

 

NTD: No, really?

 

As Ash pulls Xstasy to his feet, the crowd cheers for Ash. They want him to do something. And so, he draws his arm back and swings it forward, slamming Xstasy in the face with a hard right hook. X staggers back a step as Ash draws his arm back again, and with a quick swing, X staggers again back thanks to another right  hook.

 

Curry: Ketchum’s putting a beating into Xstasy!

 

X staggers back again, but this time, Ash grabs onto X’s arm, pulling him as he sets him up for a whip, but X counters as he is whipped and whips Ash to the ropes! Ketchum flies at the ropes and bunces off of them, shooting back at The Perfect Drug!

 

NTD: A few punches and you call that a beating? Come on!

 

Not a moment too soon, Ash leaps into the air, precisely as X is about to grab him, and thrusting his legs out, he drops X to the mat with a missile dropkick called the Rocket Launch! Quickly, though, both Ash and X get onto their feet, but Ash grabs X’s arm once more, and this time, he whips him to the ropes. X flies at the ropes, bouncing off them, and as he rebounds, Ash hooks his arm and flips over onto his chest, slamming Xstasy onto his back with a quick arm drag. The move fazes X little, and both men begin to get up at the same time. X, though quickly scrambles to get onto his feet, and at the same time, Ash runs back to the ropes, bouncing off them and shooting back at Xstasy. As X looks up at Ash, he extends his forearm out, and.... BAM! Xstasy receives a forearm smash across the forehead, flipping him around and dropping him to the mat! X lands hard on his chest, letting out a tiny cry of pain.

 

Curry: Ouch! Looks like it hurt Xstasy there with that forearm smash!

 

NTD: Sure thing, Michael Cole. You keep overreacting like that, and you’ll get fire- wait. Keep acting like that.

 

Curry: Ha ha. Funny.

 

X slowly tries to push himslef up onto his feet, pushing off his chest as if he were doing push-ups. Looking down, he sees Xstasy in his situation, and bending over, hooks Xstasy’s arms, lifting him up into the air, but Ash quickly drops to one knee, slamming Xstasy onto it. Ash releases Xstasy, who falls to the mat grabbing his back, victim of the double underhook backbreaker!

 

NTD: Blastoise Backcrakcer from Ash. Damn Pokemon... DIGIMON IS BETTER!

 

Curry: And how would you know? You can’t even wear pants.

 

NTD:  I hate pants, Curry...

 

As Xstasy gets up after the move, Ash knees Xstasy in the gut, forcing him to bend over. Stepping back, Ash takes a step forward, swinging his right leg up and down, then doing the same with his left. It is the left one that hits Xstasy in the back of the head and forces him down the the mat, victim of a savage scissors kick, the Air Ketchum Deux! Xstasy collapses to the mat, and Ash quickly flips him over with his foot, running to the nearest turnbuckle and LEAPING to the top rope.

 

Curry: We might see Ash go for the Snorlax Splash here! It’s an awesome move to see! But is this a little too early for it, isn’t it?

 

NTD: Meh... probably. Ash is a MORON.

 

Ash swings himself around, steadies himself, then leaps  off, contracting and extending his arms out as he flies through the air, hoping for the fore-mentioned five-star frog splash, but Xstasy rolls out of the way and Ash eats canvas, slamming hiard onto his chest and bouncing right back up, grabbing his chest in pain. X quickly gets to his feet, and as Ash looks up, X draws his right arm back, throwing it forward into a jab. Ash staggers back upon impact, and X does it again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again,  for a grand total of ten such blows! Each blow causes the crowd to cheer louder, and on the final one, X adds a bit of power, knocking Ash down! Ketchum hits the mat, grabbing his back and sitting up as X runs to the ropes and bounces off them. Shooting back at Ash, X quickly flips forward, throwing himself forward as he grabs Ash around the head. X hits the mat in a sit-out position, snapping Ash’s neck into a cartwheel diamond dust! Ketchum falls back landing on the mat as X gets up, running to the ropes parallel to Ash, and leaping onto the second, he leaps off, flipping back into a springboard moonsault that lands on top of Ash! X hooks Ash’s leg as he falls on top of him, quickly pinning him to the mat!

 

One...

 

 

Two-Ash kicks out! X quickly gets ot his feet, though, holding onto the leg as he wishbones Ash’s legs, and letting out a cry, he jumps into the air, dropping into a sitting position and landing in Ash’s groin with a painful wishbone splint! Ash grabs his groin and rolls in pain, X getting onto his feet quickly.

 

Curry: Xstasy is taking it to Ash Ketchum!

 

NTD: What a comeback for The Perfect Drug!

 

As X gets onto his feet, he bends over, crowd cheering as he pulls Ash Ketchum onto his feet. Xstasy quickly grabs Ash in a side headlock and takes off, only running a few feet before he leaps into the air and drives Ash’s head into the mat with a bulldog! The force of the blow causes Ash to flip over, and X covers him quickly!

 

One...

 

Two

 

Th-NO! Ash kicks out of the pin quickly, and X answers, getting up a bit slower, but bending over and grabbing Ash, pulling him onto his feet.

 

Curry: Ooooh! No dice for Xstasy!

 

NTD: And you expect him to win with that?

 

As X pulls Ash up, Ketchum kicks X in the groin, pulling boos from the crowd, and grabbing X around the head, Ash drops back, Inverted DDTing X into the mat! Both X and Ash go down, but Ash quickly covers X for the pinfall...

 

One...

 

 

Two-X kicks out, and as a result, both men quickly try to get onto their feet.

 

Curry: What a counter by Ash! Took the wind right out of Xstasy’s sails!

 

Quickly turning, they now face each other, but quickly, Ash bends down, waistlocking Xstasy and set for bending back, Ash is ready to lift him into a northern lights suplex! X, though, makes the final judgement on that, and driving a knee into Ash’s chest, he forces Ketchum to release the waistlock while applying a front lock. The crowd is on their feet, madly cheering in anticipation for a swinging sit-out neckbreaker called the Xception! X is not one to delay, and he swiftly swings Ash into that set-up position for the sit-out part, but quicly, Ketchum wiggles his head around and pops free, just as X drops to the mat in a sit-out position!  The crowd cheers (hey, these are two SUPER faces going at it...) as Ash straightens himself out.

 

Curry: How’d he get out of that?

 

NTD: Xstasy must have fucked up.

 

As Ash remains up, The Perfect Drug now begins to get up, grabbing his tailbone as he does.  The high-flyer is very fast and charismatic, but can easily be distracted and isn’t super tough like Thugg. But that doesn’t really matter as Ash and X both turn around to face each other. X quickly makes a move though, grabbing the back of Ash’s head and pulling it down as he drops to a single knee. The face of Ash Ketchum is driven hard into the knee of Xstasy, and he bounces away dramatically, landing on his back with a  “THUMP!”  as Xstasy rises off the knee, having dropped Ash to the mat with a chinbreaker!

 

Curry: What a move from Xstasy!

 

NTD: I think this means something big’s coming!

 

And so, rising to his feet, and cheers, as well as a few boos from the hardcore Ash fans, Xstasy senses something. Time for the trump card... the trick play... the final answer... the finisher to END all finishers! Xstasy quickly goes to the nearest turnbuckle, climbing, no, LEAPING onto the top rope. Reachign back, he removes the hairtie holding back his long braids, which fall downwards as he pulls it off and throws it into the crowd. A few lady fans scream and go after it, clawing much like the Ash fans did earlier for that shirt. Security comes in once more as X turns around, noticing that Ash, grabbing his jaw, is slowly, painfully slowly getting onto his feet. And so, as he scans the arena, his eyes catch focus on:

 

 

Ash’s girlfriend. Misty is at ringside, and she is looking at X, smiling. X loses himself in her beauty, and he hops from the turnbuckle, smiling as he looks at her. Meanwhile, though, Ash Ketchum is on the move, onto his feet, and he staggers forward into the turnbuckle, quickly climbing it as fast as his tired legs can and sits there. Misty blushes as X tells her he needs to go back to what he was doing. And so, he turns around to mount the turnbuckle and finish Ash off. Or so he thinks.

 

NTD: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?!?!

 

As Xstasy turns around and turns his head up and looks toward Ash, spotting him on the ropes, Ash leaps off, twisting into a Phoenix Splash. As he flips, he positions himself so his head faces Xstasy, then continues the flip, spinning majestically through the air. When he gets near to the veteran high flyer, he grabs him by the neck and flips himself onto his back, flipping the other SUPER face forward into an amazing spiked DDT!

 

Curry: POKE BALL, GO! Ash’s finisher makes it’s first SWF appearance!

 

NTD: So? Are we taking a picture of Ashie’s first use of that move to put in our scrapbooks?

 

WHAM! X’s head slams into the mat with a trememdous amount of force, possibly rendering him unconscious. As Ash releases Xstasy, he falls over onto his back. Exhausted and ready to end it, Ash drapes an arm over Xstasy as he covers him, the ref dropping to the mat to make the count…

 

One…

 

Two…

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!

 

DING DING DING!!!

 

Curry: MY GOD, HE’S DONE IT!

 

NTD: What a scam... this isn’t right! He cheated!

 

Funyon: Your winner... ASH KET-CHUMMMMMM!!!

 

As Ash is helped by the referee and handed his Hardcore Title, he looks down to see X trying to get up. X is trying to sit up, but The Perfect Drug is past exhaustion. His arm goes up in hope that someone, anyone will help him. At first, no response. But suddenly, a hand grasps the outstretched arm, and it pulls back, Xstasy pulled up onto his feet slowly. As he opens his eyes, he notices the Undercard King in front of him, hand clutching his. Ash is the one pulling his foe in this match onto his feet. X looks a bit confused at first, but soon, he realizes that his hand is moving, and looking down, the two men are shaking hands. Ketchum whips the title over his shoulder, the free hand patting Xstasy on the the shoulder as the crowd cheers wildly!

 

Curry: A show of sportsmanship from the Cerebral Prankster himself!

 

NTD: AAAACK! GET THIS MUSHY CRAP OFF MY TV!

 

Ash steps aside of Xstasty, and lifting his own arm up, he raises X’s arm into the air! Both The Perfect Drug and The Poke Freak get a huge ovation from the Tulsa crowd. The crowd seems to love the two SUPER FACES more and more each time they come out. As if they weren’t over already.

 

Curry: I think that Ash may be one of the few who ACTUALLY respects his elders, mainly because of the influences he received as a boy from his father’s co-workers in the AWA and WWF-

 

NTD: IT’S LIKE BILLY AND CHUCK! How disturbing!

 

Curry: NTD, you are OVERDRAMATIC.

 

As Ketchum glances around the arena, his eyes focus on a figure stepping over the railing, dressed in a dark, long, hooded black robe. The figure slowly makes his way toward the back down a rampside aisle slowly, like a funeral march.. His back faces Ketchum, but the mental picture may be too much. Ash’s heart beats faster, breathing increases, eyes widen, mouth opens as fear instills itself inside his very mind and soul. His head turned, eyes focused on that shadowy, unknown apparition. The figure haunts Ash as the screen fades to blackness into a commercial for live SWF shows in Baton Rouge and Memphis...

[Guest BA_Baracus]

As Storm returns from a commercial break, we are treated to a shot of the Tulsa convention centre, a beautiful sight against the backdrop of a starry night. The camera zooms in on the sign out front, which reads “SWF Storm – Sold Out.” As we go inside, we see all of the fans in attendance on their feet, cheering like lunatics as this grand stand edition of Storm rolls onward.

 

“Crossfire was a huge event…” Curry begins, trying to hear himself over the rabid fans in the background. “And Storm promises to be just as huge! And like Crossfire, we end this show with two title matches! Edwin MacPhisto, my hero, everyone’s hero! Finally won the World title last night, but he has to defend it against Perfect Bo in our Main Event this evening!”

 

“Oh don’t start shilling for MacPhisto!” NTD buts in, letting out an annoyed groan. “I’ve been hearing it all damn week! Let’s just get on with the match at hand! Sacred lost his ICTV title to Fallout last night, but with some divine intervention from Stubby, he was granted his rematch tonight on Storm, and not only that… but also in a three out of five falls match! All I can say is Curry Man, this is going to be FANTASTIC!”

 

“Without a shadow of a doubt NTD! No one expected a bombshell like that after Crossfire – Hold on NTD, what’s going on?” Curry man asks, as the camera suddenly goes off them and to another one backstage, poking around one of the long arena corridors. As the camera begins to focus, we see the Suicide King, leaning into a locker room, conversing with some unknown person.

 

“The Suicide King!” Curry man shouts. “The man that helped topple Thugg’s reign last night is here on Storm, and most likely up to no good…”

 

“He might just be wishing Sacred good luck! Those two seemed like allies last night as they took out the HVille Thugg, he’s probably just giving him a few tips!” NTD protests, defending King as best he can.

 

King nods and backs out of the door as the camera rushes forward, trying to catch who he was talking to, but the Suicide King growls are sends them packing. The crowd boos as King grins, no doubt having a plan in mind. The crowds boos intensify as the screen suddenly starts to flicker and go fuzzy and jittery. Sacred’s face flashes on the screen at random intervals, and before long, the glitch in the video breaks as we return to the arena, white lights pulsing through a darkened arena. “Seasons in the Abyss” by Slayer kicks up, and Sacred steps out from behind the curtain, still with one title in hand, his tag team championship. The fans roar as Sacred steps forward and raises both his arms, grinning confidently as he mentally prepares for his match up.

 

Funyon booms out to the audience in attendance, “The following match, is a SWF INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION TITLE MATCH! And it is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Adelaide Australia, standing six foot one and weighing two hundred and thirty one pounds… he is SAAAACCCRRRRREEEEEEDDD!”

 

The fans boos are tremendous as Sacred’s name is read out, but all that appears on the Aussie’s face is a sly grin…”I think Sacred feeds on the crowd’s jeers.” Curry observes. “Just knowing that hate him makes him want to prove his legend! Or lack thereof.”

 

“Don’t worry, soon Sacred will reach such legendary status that we enjoy! Well, me anyway.” NTD replies with a smirk, causing Curry Man to groan.

 

As Sacred hops around and shakes his hands, warming his body up, the lights suddenly go out. The fans know immediately who it is, and boo even before “Scum of the Earth” by Rob Zombie hits. As soon as the heavy guitar part kicks in, a MASSIVE explosion rocks the Tulsa Convention Centre, making Sacred stumble backward as he finally realises what he’s in for. Fallout wastes no time in coming out from behind the curtain, his eyes firmly locked on Sacred, who stands there wide eyed. Funyon yells into his Mic…

 

“And his opponent! From Phoenix Arizona, standing sex feet tall and weighing one hundred and eighty five pounds, his is the Smarks Wrestling Federation Intercontinental Television Champion… Please welcome to the ring… FAAAAALLLLOOOOUUUUTTTTT!”

 

As with Sacred, the fans boo the hell out of Fallout as his name is shouted to the masses in attendance. Fallout stops halfway down the ramp way and just stares at Sacred as the fans wonder what is going on… Sacred looks on with a grin, shouting to the fans that Fallout is too scared to step into the ring with the legend!

 

“Haha! Look at Fallout! He’s too afraid he’ll lose his title to Sacred!” NTD yells hysterically.

 

But far from it in fact, as Fallout charges down the ramp way and slides into the ring, dropping his title along the way! Funyon quickly scatters as the bell rings starting the match.

 

“Ding, ding, ding!”

 

“I don’t think so NTD! Fallout was just sizing Sacred up, he knows he’s beaten Sacred five times before, he just putting Sacred into a false sense of security!” Curry yells.

 

NTD replies, “When did you become such a bid Fallout mark, hmmmm?”

 

“Oh don’t get me wrong NTD, I hate both of the guys in the ring… I think they’re disgusting, foul mouthed, evil bastards… but that shouldn’t take away from what is set to be a classic match!”

 

Fallout leaps onto his feet and immediately goes after Sacred, hitting him with a sudden barrage of right hands, forcing the Aussie backward. Sacred is pummelled in the corner by some devastating rights, but he manages to clock a couple and then comes fighting back with some of his famous forearms! The crowd builds in intensity as Sacred and Fallout trade smashing blows, neither man coming out on top yet, until Sacred reaches up and rakes Fallout in the eyes.

 

“Sacred’s showing a little of his dirty trick arsenal already! The old eye gouge…” Curry comments.

 

Fallout stumbles backward, and Sacred strides forward, a cocky spring in his step, but Fallout catches him with a kick to the ribs! Sacred looks on stunned as Fallout grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring. The Australian bounces off the ropes and ducks an elementary clothesline from Fallout. Sacred comes back from the opposite ropes and ducks his head, but Fallout leapfrogs over the top of him. Sacred springs off the ropes once again, and this time, he manages to score with a flying forearm. Fallout hits the canvas, but whirls back onto his feet. Sacred lines Fallout up in his sights, and hops forward, attempting a standing side kick, but the Clansman ducks it. He grabs Sacred’s foot, steps over his leg and then scores with a spinning heel kick.

 

“Nice counter, and move.” Curry says. “These two know each other so well, and it will be interesting to see how it plays out in this match.”

 

Fallout quickly hooks Sacred by the leg and the referee slides over, making the count…

 

O – N – But not yet, as Sacred kicks out forcefully. The Aussie crawls away and then gets to his feet as Fallout walks over, sending a few sharp kicks to Sacred’s abdomen. Fallout lifts Sacred up and pushes him into the turnbuckles, and lifts him to the top, and then climbing up with him!

 

“Not wasting anytime here! That’s the way I like it!” NTD shouts. “Looking for a Hurricanrana and the match is only two minutes old!”

 

Fallout reaches the top, and then raises his arm before jumping up and hooking his legs around Sacred’s head, trying to flip him over… but Sacred stays firmly in place by holding onto the top rope! Fallout unceremoniously falls from the top rope and slams his face on the canvas, as Sacred climbs up to the top and leaps off quickly, hitting Fallout in the jaw with a missile Dropkick! Down Fallout goes, but Sacred picks him up onto his feet, whipping the Clansman into the ropes. Fallout springs off the ropes and comes darting back, unable to avoid a Harlem Side Kick from Sacred. The crowd roar as Fallout hits the mat and Sacred covers him, pushing his shoulders down.

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

T – W – O - But Fallout kicks out as well, too much energy left. Curry looks on with a furrowed brow, “The referee’s count was a lot faster that time…” Sacred shakes his head, wondering how he’s going to get three falls out of this match. He ponders as Fallout gets onto his feet, charging over and bringing his arm back, hitting the back of his hand onto Sacred’s chest, hitting a Knife Edge Chop. Sacred flays his arms and stumbles backward as Fallout hits another, and another, and another. The Aussie’s chest turns blood red as Fallout starts to his some left and rights knocking Sacred’s head back into the turnbuckle. Fallout hits away as Sacred goes lower and lower until he is sitting in the turnbuckle. Fallout saunters around the ring, lining himself up with Sacred s the crowd shows it’s not on his side, or Sacred’s for that matter. Fallout comes running across the ring and drives his knee into Sacred’s face, prompting a chorus of “Ooh’s!” and “Aah’s!” from the crowd.

 

“Driving his knee straight into Sacred’s face… If Sacred is looking to find a replacement for Anna, good luck to him, because that’s not going to help…” Curry says, cringing all the while.

 

Sacred falls headfirst and hits the mat, as Fallout smirks. He confidently lifts the Aussie up, but the old ANZAC spirit kicks in, as Sacred sends a flurry of jabs straight into Fallout ribs. The evil Clansman clutches at his ribs as Sacred gets back onto his feet and turns around, grabbing under Fallout’s arms and pulling him down to the mat with a backslide, but also puts his feet on the ropes! The referee remains blissfully unaware as he makes the cover, Sacred putting all his weight down on Fallout’s shoulders as the Clansman kicks his legs wildly, desperately trying to force his way out…

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – E – E!

 

“WHAT THE HELL!” Curry yells out at the top of his lungs. “Firstly, Sacred has his feet on the ropes, and secondly, the referee’s count was totally unfair!”

 

“Sacred had his feet on the ropes, and it’s all legal if the referee didn’t see it! That the Aussie way!” NTD yells in reply.

 

Funyon announces, “The winner of the first fall at five minutes and fifteen seconds… SACRED!”

 

The fans erupt, screaming, “ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!” To the ref, who gets onto his feet, only to be met by Fallout, who grabs the referee’s shirt collar and shouts at him “What the fuck are you doing!?” The referee pleads his innocence, but before Fallout can wallop the referee, Sacred grabs his shoulder and pulls him away, hitting him with a rush of forearms. The fans begin to die down a little as Sacred whips Fallout into the ropes. Sacred ducks his head, lifting Fallout over his head with a back body drop… but Fallout manages to land on his feet. Sacred is unaware of this, and points to himself, shouting “Legend!” The fans just break out with laughter as Fallout lifts Sacred up and them slams him down with a reverse suplex.

 

“Well…” Curry says, wiping sweat from his brow. “Whatever is up with the ref, the action in this match just won’t stop.”

 

“No fooling around Curry, three out of five falls, every move has to have brutal effect!” NTD chimes in.

 

Sacred yells out in pain and holds his back, quickly rolling away from Fallout as he sends his boot into the hurt area. Sacred falls outside with a thud, but gets back onto his feet. Fallout revels in this part of the match, and grins as he runs over to the ropes, jumping over the top rope and landing on the ring apron. He turns around, jumps up and springs off the second rope with a moonsault, landing right on top of Sacred. Both men hurt after the move as the fans nearby mark out like crazy for the high-flying move.

 

“Putting his body on the line just to hurt Sacred just a little more… Crazy I tell you, crazy.” Curry says.

 

NTD responds with, “Ah, but remember when we we’re like that Curry? Ah the memories…”

 

“Yeah, such fond memories… kicking your arse all over the country, that was the best.”

 

Fallout gets back onto his feet, his right knee a little sore after the spectacular move. Sacred crawls away, as usual, draping himself over the guardrail as fans spew insults at him, but he can barely hear them. Fallout walks over and grabs his head, throwing it against the guardrail, not once, not twice, but three times. Sacred just slumps to the floor, his nose starting to bleed a little, but Fallout is only excited by the blood, and has much worse things in mind for Sacred. He lifts the Aussie onto his feet and whipping him across the concrete floor, throwing him straight into the steel steps.

 

The steps are sent flying as Sacred just prays for a moment of rest, but Fallout isn’t too obliging, kicking Sacred’s head into the steel repeatedly. The referee nears his ten count, and Fallout groans as he reluctantly goes along with the referee. Sacred is rolled back into the ring, and Fallout climbs onto the ring apron. He could go for the pin right now, but instead opts to slingshot over the ropes and hit Sacred across the face with a leg drop! Fallout gives the referee a scornful gaze before hooking Sacred’s leg…

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

T – W – O – But Sacred shoots a shoulder up after a slow count from the ref. Fallout starts to get suspicious as he gets to his feet.

 

“A slow count from the referee…” Curry says. “Actually, I think I remember this referee from a little while ago…”

 

“I’m surprised Sacred has hung in there Fallout is beginning to show why he’s the most dangerous man in the SWF.”

 

Fallout circles Sacred as the Aussie climbs onto his feet, wiping the blood away from under his nose with his arm. He looks around for Fallout, but in his dazed state, has a bit of trouble. Fallout sneaks up behind Sacred and locks on a waist lock, lifting Sacred over his head and slamming him down on his neck and back! “German Suplex!” Both of the announcers yell. “ Sacred yelps in pain, holding his neck and cursing Fallout, who turns around and pins the Aussie’s shoulders to the mat…

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – But Sacred gets his shoulder up again, not as forceful this time. Fallout just grits his teeth and glances at the ref, who seems to be getting on with his job as normal. Sacred uses the ropes to get up, but Fallout quickly rushes over and drives a forearm into his back, choking him on the second rope. Fallout begins to choke Sacred, driving his boot into the back of his head. The referee counts, “One! Two! Three!” And instructs Fallout to get off. The Clansman does so, but then just does the same thing again! The referee counts “One! Two Three!” And this time has to physically pull Fallout off! The Clansman turns around and is just about ready to belt the ref, but knows he can’t…

 

“The ref is on thin ice here!” NTD shouts. “It’s never been my personal choice to get Fallout pissed!”

 

“I hope he has some sort of insurance, because Fallout is just about ready to snap!” Curry replies.

 

Fallout holds to fingers up to the ref, only one centimetre apart, showing how close he was to a belting. Fallout turns around and starts to lift Sacred up, but the Aussie quickly whirls around hooks his arm under Fallout pulling him to the mat with a schoolboy! Sacred stands up and grabs onto Fallout’s pants, holding him in place!

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – E – E!!!

 

The crowd is up and booing as Sacred grins, blood streaming from his nose now. The referee quickly backs away as Fallout gets up, he can’t believe Sacred is two falls up!

 

“Sacred’s got him again, and he had a handful of tights, or pants in this instance!” NTD hollers. “Only one fall to go before Sacred regains his belt!”

 

Funyon yells from ringside over the top of a chorus of boos, “The winner of the second fall at twelve minutes and thirty seven seconds… SACRED!”

 

Sacred whirls onto his feet and grins from ear to ear as Fallout just stares at him in disbelief, shaking his head. All his bent up rage makes his just explode, charging at Sacred and taking him down with a clothesline. Sacred gets back up but only to be knocked down by a swift Superkick to the jaw! Fallout mounts on top of the Australian and lifts his head up, driving his fist into Sacred’s skull as the referee begins to com around to Fallout’s cause. Fallout doesn’t stop until he opens up another wound on Sacred’s head, making it bleed. Fallout gets onto his feet and continues the onslaught with some stomps, hitting Sacred head, throwing it back violently, his rage powering him.

 

“I never thought I’d head even one fan cheering for Fallout… But there’s two!” NTD yells.

 

“No one likes a cheater, and Sacred, well he’s nearly the biggest one of all. What’s gotten over him, that’s no way to win a match!”

 

“Who cares? A win is a win, no matter how its won!” NTD says, providing his great wisdom to Curry.

 

Fallout lifts Sacred onto his feet and whips him into the turnbuckles. He charges at him and absolutely crunches Sacred with a devastating clothesline. Fallout lowers his head and rears back, ramming his shoulder right into Sacred’s ribs, driving the air out of him. The referee shifts uncomfortably as Fallout lifts his head and shakes his head at Sacred, saying something along the lines of, “Let me show you how it’s done mother fucker…”

 

Fallout propels a lifeless Sacred across the squared circle. Fallout charges at him once more, spearing him into the ribs! Sacred coughs a little, and spits out some blood. As happened before, this just strengthens Fallout’s will to cause pain to his Australian nemesis. The Clansman pulls Sacred out of the turnbuckle a little and crouches down… attempting a Superkick! But Sacred catches his foot and pivots Fallout around full one eighty degrees. Sacred lifts Fallout up by the thighs and throws him over his shoulder. Fallout shows his great agility and balance by landing on the top rope with both feet, as Sacred turns around, expecting to see quite a different scene! Fallout grabs him by the head, locking him in a headlock and then leaping off the ropes, spinning around in mid air and driving Sacred head to the mat!

 

“Fallout is absolutely dominating, he’s a man possessed!” Curry Man yells out.

 

“I always knew they did weird stuff in the Clan… possessed with the drunken and pissed soul of Mr Galatea!”

 

Fallout could go for the pin, but looks back up at the top rope and smirks. He leaps onto his feet and jumps up onto the top rope, turning around quickly and lining himself up with Sacred. He leaps off before Sacred can make any sudden moves… twisting four hundred and fifty degrees in the air…

 

And coming down on Sacred’s chest with a splash! The fans erupt in a mixture of cheers and jeers as Fallout covers Sacred!

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – E – E!!!!

 

“Finally, Fallout gets one back, and punishing Sacred at the same time!” Curry yells, as Funyon gets on the mic, “The winner of the third fall at 17 minutes and fifty six seconds… FALLOUT!”

 

“He dropped a nuke from the top rope and scored his first fall! Sacred’s dream of creating his legend is crumbling all around him…”

 

Fallout grins at the ref, who looks angry after Fallout got the pin. The Clansman looks down at Sacred, who is pretty much out of it, his eyes near glazed over after Fallout’s devastating finisher. Fallout realises he could almost seal the fourth fall with just one more nuke, just as America would have thought about Japan. Fallout gets to his feet and walks over to the turnbuckles, looking out at the crowd and nodding his head approvingly before going up to the top rope. He climbs up slowly but finally gets there, looking down on Sacred and grinning. Sacred begins to stir as Fallout leaps off, soaring through the air, like some sort of majestic bird, performing flips, coming down right for Sacred…

 

But instead, Sacred drives his knees into Fallout’s ribs! Fallout literally bounces off his knees and staggers around the ring clutching at his stomach and sides. Sacred manages to get onto his feet, catching Fallout as he stumbles around the ring, grabbing his arm and twirling it around his head, slamming him to the canvas with the Knifey Spoony neckbreaker! Sacred falls to the mat exhausted and only weakly applies a cover.

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – But Fallout kicks out, much to some of the fans pleasure, but displeasure for most.

 

“Fallout tried to seal the victory, but took to long to capitalise, and didn’t count on Sacred to fight back!” NTD yells.

 

“You’d think by Sacred’s sneaky ways he’s weak, but if needed he can really turn on!” Curry replies.

 

Sacred and Fallout climb onto their feet at the same time… Sacred tries to kick Fallout in the ribs, but Fallout catches his foot. Sacred flips himself backward, performing a spectacular leap and landing on his feet, but Fallout just runs forward and knocks him down with down a spinning heel kick. Sacred gets up only to get knocked down like a nice pin by a clothesline from Fallout. The Clansman mounts on top of Sacred once again and pours his anger into his punches, pummelling Sacred mercifully, but the Aussie manages to roll over on top of Fallout, and he begins to bash him with forearms!

 

“It’s really going to start heating up as we get near the end of the match!” Curry yells. “This won’t be pretty!”

 

Sacred shows his sadistic side as he brings his finger up to his lip and wipes away the blood, his face turning angrier. Sacred gets onto his feet and lifts Fallout up, hitting him with a few forearms before whipping him into the ropes. S Fallout returns, his slides in between Sacred legs and jumps to his feet. He turns around and locks on a reverse face lock, looking for a reverse DDT, but Sacred twists his body around and throws Fallout over his head, hitting a bridged Northern Lights Suplex…

 

“Nice set of reversals, that’s what I meant by both of these men knowing each other so well.” NTD comments.

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – But Fallout powers upward, managing to avoid being pinned to the mat. His upper body pushes upward, and then he stops there, Sacred and Fallout locked together with their faces staring at the roof. Fallout suddenly breaks the silence with a head shattering reverse neckbreaker. Fallout and Sacred lie heads next to each other, breathing heavily, trying to summon up some strength. Fallout starts work his way onto his feet, getting onto one knee, while Sacred just blinks a whole lot, trying to get his bearings.

 

“Both men are down after that brutal neckbreaker!”

 

“I sure hope Sacred wasn’t dropped on his head as a child, because he’s sure getting dropped on his head a lot as an adult.” NTD says with a grin.

 

“And you’re a moron my friend.” Curry retorts.

 

Fallout gets onto his feet, but stumbles a bit. He looks back down at Sacred and then quickly darts off to the ropes. He bounces off the cable and back towards Sacred, who suddenly springs to his feet and lifts Fallout up onto his shoulders. Fallout’s legs flay around in the air as Sacred pushes his arms Fallout’s dangling legs and whips him forward, slamming him down with a Spinebuster! Sacred falls to the mat in a heap, while Fallout holds his wounds. The referee looks down and institutes a count, while the fans chant along…

 

“One!”

 

“Two!” Fallout and Sacred are still on their backs, the fans chanting louder and louder with every count.

 

“Three!”

 

“Four!” Sacred rolls over onto his side, spitting out a bit more blood and wiping some from under his nose.

 

“Five!” Fallout tries to sit up, but had the wind knocked out of him and sits back down

“Six!”

 

“Seven!” Sacred manages to get onto one knee, looking over at Fallout and hoping and praying he stays down for the full ten.

 

“Eight!” But Fallout is able to sit up now, getting his breath back, and he rolls into a kneeling position.

 

"Who will get up first…” Curry says, eagerly watching the ring.

 

“Nine!” Sacred is back up now and runs off the ropes behind him, aiming directly for Fallout with his knee. The Clansman does some nice limbo work in getting under the blow, and Sacred turns around, disgruntled and with a head full of steam. Fallout kicks Sacred in the ribs and locks him in the position for a suplex, but Sacred reverses it in mid air, landing directly behind Fallout. The Clansman sees his opportunity with the ref right in front of him, and he grabs his shirt and throws his away, but not before delivering a hard mule kick to Sacred’s junk! Fallout turns around and grabs a hunched over Sacred, locking on a front face lock and then grabbing Sacred by his belt, lifting him into the air and falling backward, driving his head in to the canvas with the Meltdown! The crowd just goes insane as Fallout reaches over and hooks Sacred by the leg!

 

“CHEATER!” NTD screams. “Fallout cheating, blatant low blow!”

 

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – E – E!!!!!! Fallout pins Sacred for the second time in a row! The crowd goes nuts as Fallout grins, knowing he is in control right now, and nothing can stop him from keeping his title.

 

Funyon yells to the audience and the people at home, “The winner of the fourth fall at twenty four minutes and twenty seven seconds… FALLOUT!”

 

“TWO FALLS A PIECE!” Curry yells out. “One fall to go, and Fallout doesn’t seem like he could put a foot wrong from here…”

 

The Clan ‘s stand in leader climbs onto his feet, looking down on Sacred, just with an evil grin on his face. Sacred bleeds more profusely now, streaming from the cut on his forehead and from his nose. Fallout looks at the referee, who looks back with a blank look. The ref bends down and checks on the Aussie, but Fallout storms over and pushes him away, grabbing Sacred and lifting him onto his feet. Fallout throws some hard right hands at Sacred, and then picks him up and scoop slams him, almost showing his complete control over the Aussie.

 

“He’s just mocking Sacred!” NTD complains. “That’s not befitting of a true legend like Sacred!”

 

“But it’s just so funny!” Curry says, poking NTD in the ribs.

 

The ICTV champion runs across to Sacred and leaps into the air, falling down and driving his knee onto Sacred’s forehead. Sacred covers his face after the hit, pleading for mercy, but his appeal falls on deaf ears, as Fallout picks him up slowly. Fallout whips him across the ring and into the turnbuckles, but as Sacred hits them, he bounces back. Fallout charges, Sacred leaps into the air and leapfrogs over the top of him. Sacred taps his head indicating his intelligence, but he turns around and finds Fallout springing off the top rope with a moonsault! Fallout lands on Sacred’s shoulders with his arm and uses his momentum to hit a Diving Reverse DDT! The fans pop like crazy for the move, and Fallout attempts a cover…

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – E – NO! Sacred kicks out! The crowd is in shock, as is Fallout and NTD and Curry certainly are…

 

“Sacred has lost to Fallout too many times, he’s not going to give up at all!” NTD yells. “This one win means everything to him!”

 

Fallout just raises his hand to his throat and brings his across his neck, indicating it’s going to be the end for our Aussie friend. Sacred climbs onto his feet and valiantly fights back with some forearms, kicking Fallout in the stomach and hitting a desperate DDT! Sacred breathes a sigh of relief and catches his breath, but Fallout is on a warpath right now, and gets back onto his feet, his head only ringing a little. Sacred looks at him and shakes his head, nearly about to cry, but Fallout stops that with some right hand jabs some left hand jabs and a combination of kicks. Fallout whips Sacred across the ring again, but wait, it’s reversed, and Fallout is the one that hits the turnbuckles.

 

“Can the Aussie mount a fight back, or will Fallout’s dominance get the better of him!?” Curry asks.

 

Sacred waits for Fallout to bounce out from the turnbuckles and then runs head on at him, his head down, looking ready for the Kamikaze… but Fallout ducks to the side and drop toe holds Sacred into the second turnbuckle pad! Fallout senses his time and grabs Sacred, picking him up in a suplex and planting him onto the top rope. Fallout climbs up with Sacred, and locks on a front face lock, the fans just erupt in a sea of boos, jeers, cheers, but basically just marking out for the move he’s about to perform…

 

“I don’t like Sacred’s chances in this position…” Curry comments.

 

“He’s not going to do is he!?” NTD shouts.

 

Fallout stands up on the turnbuckle and falls back with Sacred, the two heading towards the canvas for what seems like an eternity, until finally Sacred hits with a THUD, his head drilling into the canvas, his neck taking the blunt of the blow. “SUPER MELTDOWN!” Curry shouts, after having not seen that move for an eternity.

 

Fallout just smirks as he crawls over and puts a hand on Sacred’s chest, the referee grunting as he slams his fist on the mat…

 

“No one could get up after that!” NTD yells.

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – E – EEEEEEEEEEEE… Noooooo! The referee’s hand stop before hitting the canvas. Fallout looks at the referee, the referee looks at Fallout, a huge sly smile forming on his face. Fallout shakes his head, his eyes growing wide as the referee laughs after costing the pinfall for Fallout. Everyone in the arena expected Fallout to win there, and are absolutely flabbergasted at the turn of events!

 

“THE REFEREE STOPPED THE COUNT!” Curry screams at the top of his lungs. “Fallout had this won, but the ref stopped the count!”

 

Fallout grabs the referee’s shirt and pushes him across the ring, slamming him into the turnbuckles and shaking him madly, shouting, “WHY! WHY’D YOU DO IT!” The referee fears for his safety but keeps his mouth shut. Fallout is ready to strike the ref, but then…

 

“All Aboard! Ahahahaahahah!”

 

“Crazy Train” by Ozzy Osbourne hits and the fans turns their heads to the entranceway, as does Fallout, who wonders what the hell is going on. Out comes the Suicide king, being bathed in the roars of the crowd. King pulls out a mic and grins, just listening to the crowd cry out like pathetic little children. King is finally able to speak…

 

“Fallout my boy… sorry for doing this, but you know, I just don’t like you. Which is why I payed my little referee friend here a visit.”

 

“It was King! That’s who King was talking to, the referee! That dirty scoundrel…” Curry gripes.

 

King stands there just basking in the hate from he crowd, and Fallout. “Sacred helped me out, taking care of Thugg,” King groans as the fans suddenly break out in cheers. “So I did the only nice thing and I thought I’d repay the favour…”

 

The Suicide King breaks out into laughter as Fallout lets go of the ref and growls, rushing over to the ropes and pointing at King, throwing scornful remarks his way. Behind the Clansman, Sacred starts to slowly get up, holding his neck in pain. He sees Fallout shouting at King, and knows the plan had gone into fruition. From the top of the stage, King starts pointing towards Fallout, and the evil one turns around, only to receive a kick to the stomach from Sacred. The Australian locks on a front face lock and lifts up Fallout’s arm and readies for the Cruel Fate! But Fallout charges forward, crunching Sacred into the turnbuckle.

 

“Cruel Fate attempt is countered! Both men are tired and weary, but will do absolutely anything to win that tile and beat the other!” NTD yells.

 

Fallout lifts Sacred to the top rope, and then climbing up with him. Fallout readies Sacred for a superplex of massive proportions, but Sacred counters, pushing Fallout off the top rope! Fallout hits the mat but manages to get up, as Sacred flies off the top with a flying cross body, hitting Fallout perfectly. Fallout continues to roll over as Sacred takes him to the canvas though, and the two men stand back up. Sacred tries for a kick to the gut, but Fallout catches his foot. Sacred swings his body around and hits an enziguri across the back of Fallout’s head, causing him to stumble backward. Fallout bounces off the ropes and Sacred gets up, this time nailing his kick. Sacred quickly locks on a front face lock and lifts Fallout arm up, leaping into the air and descending to the mat, falling forward, and hitting the CRUEL FATE!

 

“After all this, is Sacred going to win it!?” Curry asks in vain.

 

Sacred coughs and splutters out some more blood as he crawls over and drapes an arm across Fallout’s chest…

 

O – N – E

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – W – O

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I can’t believe it Curry!” NTD screams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T – H – R – E – EEEEEEEE!!!! YES! Sacred wins, and the crowd goes mad, roaring out their objections, but to no avail! They feel disheartened as Funyon yells out, “The winner of the fifth fall at thirty five minutes and thirty one seconds, and THE NEW! SMARKS WRESTLING FEDERATION INTERCONTINENTAL TELEVISION CHAMPION… SAAAAAACCCCRRREEEEEEEDDDD!”

 

“NO! FALLOUT HAD IT WON, HE HAD IT WON!” Curry screams, not able to control himself.

 

“Calm down man, it’s all good! Sacred’s wins, and we have a great new champion, a legend if you will!” NTD says proudly.

 

King has a rye smile on his face as the referee helps Sacred to his feet and hands him his newly won crown. Sacred look around, blood covering his face, but he raises his title high above his head, smiling and nodding…

 

“King and Sacred work together to jip Fallout, but rest assured, Fallout is not going to let this slide! But right now, a commercial break, and then Edwin and Perfect Bo for the world title in our main event! Do go away!” Curry says, as the closing shot shows Sacred look fondly on his title, dreaming of bigger things…

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“I keep it thoro, nigga!”

 

As we come back from commercial, the crowd boos wildly and “Keep It Thoro” by Prodigy hits, heralding the arrival of one angry man from the Bronx!  The SmarkTron lights up with the word “BO” and a series of brutal highlights from Bo’s career, and the voice of Curry Man rises up beneath the music!

 

“Welcome back to SWF Storm, and welcome back to our main event--”

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall,” booms Funyon, cutting Curry off, “and it is for the Smarks Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Title!”  Amidst the boos, the crowd pops huge for the announcement.

 

“You heard the man, NTD—it’s main event time, and it’s Edwin MacPhisto’s first defense of the title he won Sunday at SWF Crossfire, dethroning the Hville Thugg--”

 

“—and pissing off Perfect Bo in the process!” chirps the color man.

 

“You’re right about that, NTD!  At Crossfire—well, if you didn’t watch folks, you missed out!  Bo turning on Thugg, the return of Xstasy, and Edwin MacPhisto as the world champion!  But here comes the man who’s looking to change that tonight…”

 

Bo appears at the top of the entrance and starts to stalk down to the ring, eyes rolled back in his head, paying no heed to the crowd, fueled on by rage, desire, and the bumping beats of Prodigy…

 

“Entering first, hailing from the Bronx and weighing in at 285 pounds…he is the Hardcore God…Perrrrrrrrrrrfect BOOOOOOOOO!”  The boos are immense as Bo climbs into the ring and stretches his arms out, eagerly leaning on the ropes, chomping at the bit for a chance at crushing Edwin MacPhisto and winning the world title, all in one night.  As Bo flexes his arms and cracks his neck, the Tulsa Center house lights drop out, leaving the arena illuminated only by the SmarkTron’s glowing silhouettes as a hovering sound floats in, a familiar British voice drifting in behind it and drawing an ovation from the fans!

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, children, ninjas, pirates and robots of all ages, prepare to see—no, no, prepare to bear witness to the rise and fall of third reich—replacing the word “third” with “Perfect” and “reich” with “Bo,” of course!  Quite a feat Stubby chose for my first title defense tonight—the man who I already beat at Crossfire, the man who sunk so low as to nearly cripple the Hville Thugg, the man who I thought I could trust—yes, this is going to be a fun night tonight, folks!  Bo, step right up and get your ticket, because this World Champion of Flash and Panache is about to whoop your arse!”

 

As Edwin speaks, a pair of blue spotlights swinging back and forth over the entrance ramp, moving in time with the beat, and as the vocals of “Battleflag” drop in, they collide at the entrance ramp, bringing forth a wall of purple strobes, bright pyro, and whirling red-and-gold disco lights!  The crowd explodes as Edwin MacPhisto steps out onto the ramp, SWF World Title clasped firmly around his waist!  He poses for a moment, absorbing the cheers, and then begins to jog his way down the ramp, a huge grin across his face!

 

“And his opponent, from Amsterdam, England, weighing in at 239 pounds, the leader of the Midnight Carnival, and your S-W-F World Champion—Edwin MacPhistOOOOOOOO!”  Bo backs off to the center of the rings, staring flames at Edwin as he approaches. The crowd pops huge as Edwin dives into the ring, unhooking his title belt, giving it a little pat, and handing it off to the ref, along with the trademark trenchcoat and a pair of sunglasses, and as he passes them off, Perfect Bo charges at him from behind!  Edwin drops into a roll to dodge, the bell rings, and Edwin dodges again as Bo lunges forward one more time!  “Good god almighty, look at the rage in Bo’s eyes!” shouts Curry.  “Edwin and Xstasy put an end to his fun at Crossfire, and now he’s looking to take it all out on our poor champion!”

 

“Poor champion?” scoffs NTD, as Edwin warily backs into the corner, circling up with the predatory Bo.  “If he’s gonna be our champion, he’d better be able to hold his own in a stand-up fight!”

 

“But a fight with Bo is never a stand-up fight!  It’s an all-out, crazy hardcore brawl!”

 

“Like I said: a stand-up fight!”

 

As the commentators debate on the nature of Bo’s fighting ability, the Perfect One steamrolls towards Edwin one more time, but this time Edwin stands his ground, drops to the mat…and floors Bo with a drop toehold!  The crowd cheers as Bo thuds into the mat face first, but the Hardcore God is up an instant later and raring to go.  Edwin bounces on the balls of his feet, trying to gauge Bo’s next maneuver.  Bo comes charging forward, and Edwin ducks to the right…but Bo throws his left arm out for a clothesline at the last second!  Edwin kicks his legs out and drops to the mat as the crowd gasps, and Bo skids to a stop a foot away.  The Perfect One turns on his heel…and eats a rising shotei to the chin as the Mac Daddy leaps off the mat!  With Bo dazed, Edwin gets his balance, then snags Bo’s wrist and whips him across the ring.  “The champion’s taking control,” calls Curry, and as Bo bounces back, Edwin leaps and connects with a beautiful standing dropkick!  The Perfect One falls, and Edwin covers him for the first pinfall attempt of the night!  “Champ with the quick cover!”

 

ONE!—and Bo powers out explosively, sending Edwin flying!

 

“Guess you could call that a new variant on Air MacPhisto!” snickers NTD.  “God, I’m so funny sometimes.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

“I said ‘sometimes,’ not all the time.”

 

“And I said: you’re not.”

 

Edwin scrambles back to his feet as Bo sits up like a zombie, scowls, and stands to his full height.  The Mac Daddy darts towards Bo, trying to get behind him, but Bo turns with every MacPhisto movement, eying the Mac Daddy like a lion watching a prancing gazelle.  As Edwin presses on, Bo backs up until he’s against the ropes, thwarting Edwin’s approach for good.  “Bo might not be the smartest man in the fed, but he knows Edwin well—there’s no way MacPhisto’s going to be able to catch Bo with one of his trademark German suplexes if he can’t get behind him!”  Edwin gives up on the back attack and changes tempo, drawing a sizable crowd pop as he breaks into a run towards Bo, arm outstretched for a clothesline.  Edwin bolts to Bo, but before he can strike, Bo throws his hands up and catches Edwin’s arm, stopping the champ dead in his tracks!  The Mac Daddy’s face pales for a moment, and then Bo shoves forward violently, sending Edwin back on his rear a good six feet away!  With two lumbering steps, Bo is on him, pulling Edwin up by his mane of fiery red hair and pounding him with a closed fist to the gut!

 

Bo fires another fist, and with Edwin adequately dazed, steps forward to launch him with a whip.  The Mac Daddy groggily bounces back off the ropes, floating back into Bo’s arms as the Perfect One effortlessly takes him up over with a ring-rocking powerslam!  A normal man might go for the cover, but someone sick like Bo instead peels Edwin off the mat, whips him again, and this time meets the returning Mac Daddy with a kneelift to the gut.  Edwin doubles over, and Bo takes him into a standing headscissors, quickly reaching for the gutwrench…but Edwin pushes forward and shoves Bo away, saving himself from a rather big powerbomb problem.  “Edwin gets the escape—but Bo’s coming right back!” shouts Curry!  Bo barrels right back towards a rising Edwin, and just as Edwin’s recovered to his full height, Bo plows into him, cinches a two-handed choke around the throat, and keeps walking forward!  With immense strength, Bo rams Edwin into the ropes, and drops the choke, replacing that bit of brutality with the thick-legged intensity of a Bronx kneelift…then another kneelift…and then a third!

 

“Take my breath uhhhh-waaaaaaay--”

 

“Stop it!  You can’t sing!”

 

“You’re no fun!  I just want to be Kelly McGillis in Top Gun!  Is that so wrong?”

 

“Yes!  Yes it is!  Now shut up and watch the match!”

 

With a roar, Bo roughly scoops Edwin up for a front suplex, then drops him right over the ropes, then grabs him by the back of the neck and starts to drag his throat back and forth!  The crowd boos wildly and Edwin flails desperately, but Bo persists.  The ref gives Bo a count of 4, then begs him to stop, but Bo just barks at him and keeps at it!  Finally, after about 15 seconds of good ol’ fashioned throat abuse, Bo rips Edwin off his garroted position and, with a grunt, heaves him into the nearest corner!  Edwin hits the post hard, but the impact only gets harder as Bo charges and leaps forward, scoring a big flying clothesline into the corner and crushing Edwin between 285 pounds of big black man and one rather unfriendly steel post!  Edwin gasps for breath again, but Bo just keeps on coming, dropping his shoulder and driving block after block into the Mac Daddy’s ribs.  After four, Bo seems satisfied, locking Edwin into a front facelock and cinching him by the waist of his pants!  The Perfect One roars and the fans fire off another chorus of jeers, a “BO SUCKS” chant rising up as Bo takes Edwin up into a vertical suplex…and holds him at the top!  “Bo’s got the stalling suplex now, and our champion’s about to enter a world of hurt!”

 

“One!  Two!  Three--”

 

“Stop it, NTD!  You’re the only one counting!”

 

“Christ, Curry.  You just don’t want me to have any fun at all, do you?”

 

Bo holds Edwin for 5 seconds, turning…and about 10 seconds of elevation, Bo switches things up and falls forward!  

 

WHAM!  Edwin crashes into the mat chest first courtesy an inverted suplex, and Bo aggressively hooks the leg for a cover!  “Bo lands an inverted suplex on Edwin’s ribs, battered from that assault in the corner!  It’s gonna be tough to kick out—we could have new champion!”  The ref drops to the mat…

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

TH—and with a groan of pain, Edwin kicks out—but Bo grabs him by the forehead and slams the back of his head down into the mat once more time, then hooks the leg again!  “Woo-hoo!  That’s a way to keep ‘em down, Bo!” cries NTD.

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!—and Edwin gets his shoulder up, much to Bo’s frustration!  The Perfect One shouts a few profanities at the referee as he yanks Edwin up off the mat, twisting the Mac Daddy’s arm with an uncomfortable wrench!  Edwin tries to muster up some speed and break away, but Bo wraps the wrenched arm up into a half-nelson, and shortly thereafter the Hardcore God secures Edwin’s other arm!  “Bo’s got the full-nelson locked on!” calls Curry, and the Perfect One lifts Edwin up…and down, drilling his tailbone square into the mat with a full-nelson bomb!  Bo maintains one-half of the hold as he pulls Edwin up, rolling back out into an arm wrench with his right arm and charging forward with the left for a short-arm clothesline!  Bo charges in…and Edwin ducks the clothesline!  Bo’s arm shoots over Edwin’s head and the Perfect One comes to an abrupt stop, 240 pounds of Mac Daddy holding back his now twisted form!

 

“Bo’s all tangled up with nowhere to go—INVERTED FACELOCK!”  Curry cuts himself off as Edwin throws up his free right arm, wraps it around Bo’s neck, and leaps, spinning around his own axis to drill both himself and Bo into the mat with a swinging neckbreaker!  “The world champ just rolled Bo’s dice,” shouts Curry, “and listen to that crowd!”  The fans are on their feet for this apparent shift in momentum, cheering and waiting to see who gets up first…

 

…and it’s Edwin!  The crowd lets out a big pop as he rises and pumps his fist, then steps over Bo and starts to pull him up!  “Bo was dominating the match, but our clever champion snuck that neckbreaker in just in time to save his skin and turn this contest around!”  The Mac Daddy gets Bo to his feet and steps forward, whipping him to the ropes.  Edwin readies a clothesline for the rebound, but Bo ducks and carries through, bouncing off the opposite ropes…straight into a huge gamengiri!  Edwin sends the jumping roundhouse kick hard into Bo’s face, and the Mac Daddy’s Doc Martens leave their indelible mark on Bo’s chin as he falls fast!  Edwin rolls out to his feet and slides in to cover his opponent!  “Big gamengiri from MacPhisto takes Bo down—is it enough?”

 

The ref drops to count…

 

ONE!

 

TWO—and Bo kicks out comfortably!  “That big kick gave Bo a jolt, but wasn’t enough to take down one of the toughest men in this federation!”

 

“Edwin’s going to need a lot more if he plans to take out Bo of all people,” sneers NTD.

 

“Edwin already did that on Sunday at Crossfire, NTD!” shoots Curry.  “Or had you forgotten?”

 

“If I’m not mistaken, it was Thugg who eliminated Bo, my spicy friend!  Edwin MacPhisto has yet to prove that he can take down Perfect Bo!  They’ve battled to many a no-contest, but your ‘champion’ hasn’t even proven himself yet!”

 

In the ring, Edwin pulls Bo up to his feet and sends an elbow into the Perfect One’s temple, keeping him dazed and vulnerable.  The Mac Daddy reaches back for another inverted facelock, maybe looking to scramble Bo’s brains a second time, but Bo shoves him forward and away!  Edwin hits the brakes, but turns into a big right hook!  He staggers away, and Bo stalks after, catching Edwin with a right hand around the throat and hammering away with left hands into the champion’s face!  After five punches, Edwin goes slack, and Bo maintains the choke, lifting him towards the center of the ring, and down with a solid chokeslam!  The Mac Daddy lands and crumples, and Bo spits down on him with utter disrespect before dropping for the cover!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH—and Edwin kicks out to Bo’s dismay!  The Perfect One gets in the referee’s face and starts to shove him, holding up three fingers and proving that boys from the Bronx CAN count, contrary to popular belief.  The ref waves Bo off, but the Hardcore God just gives him a brutal shove, then goes back to Edwin.  “Perfect Bo is showing utter disrespect for everybody tonight—Edwin, the referee, and even the fans!  And to think, he had us all fooled for a whole damn month, thinking he was the noble guy going after the Hville Thugg when all he wanted to do was cripple the poor beast!”  Immune to Curry’s words of scorn, Bo pulls Edwin up off the mat only to knee him in the gut, doubling the Mac Daddy over.  Bo locks his hands in a thick fist, then brings it down hard on Edwin’s spine, dropping him to his knees!  The Hardcore God brings the fist up again, then brings it down one more time, flattening the Mac Daddy out!  Bo grabs Edwin by his wild red hair and yanks him up, drawing a cry from the champion.  The original gangster pulls Edwin straight into a standing headscissors, wasting no time as he cinches him around the waist and flips him up onto his shoulders!  The crowd gasps as Bo loosens his grip on Edwin, allowing the Mac Daddy to hang free, his head pointed straight out the ground as Bo preps a ganso bomb!  “Bo’s going for the fast finish here, about to give Edwin a taste of Ether!” calls Curry.  As Bo finishes locking Edwin’s arms around his legs, the Mac Daddy suddenly pulls his calves together and applies pressure to Bo’s throat!  The crowd roars as Edwin scores the desperation choke, and Bo immediately pulls his hands off Edwin and up to his throat, releasing in the process and allowing him to roll out of the fall and land harmlessly on his back!  Bo looks down as Edwin falls away, but as his eyes meet the canvas, Edwin is nowhere to be found!

 

CRACK!  And Bo’s left knee gives out as a sharp snap kick fires into it from behind!  “MacPhisto scooted through Bo’s legs, and now he’s breaking him down with those fast snap kicks!” comments Curry, and Edwin keeps the pressure up, firing another snap kick into Bo’s right leg, then another shot from the opposite direction, a stiff boot to the small of the back, and finally one more snap shot back at the right leg, causing it to give out!  Bo falls to his knees, and from behind, Edwin lines up the springing sidekick with his left leg, aimed straight for the back of Bo’s head…

 

…and misses!  Bo leans to the left and Edwin’s leg breezes over Bo’s right shoulder—and the Perfect One grabs it!  With a growl he leans forward, dragging the off-balance Edwin with him in an elevated dragon screw!  The champion flies over Bo’s shoulder and thuds into the mat, and as his head starts to clear, Edwin feels his left leg contort while a huge weight settles onto his back!  “Perfect Crank, Perfect Crank!” shouts Curry!  “At Crossfire, Edwin tapped out to the Perfect Crank mere seconds after Bo applied it!”

 

“So Bo should be the rightful champion!”

 

“No, no NTD—Crossfire was strictly a Last Man Standing affair, but if Bo can get Edwin to tap out tonight, we’re going to have a new champion already!”  Bo yanks the leg forward in a single crab and Edwin howls in pain, but Bo stifles his cry by reaching forward with his free right hand and cinching the STF around Edwin’s neck, executing the Perfect Crank in its full form!  Lines of pain and agony immediately wrinkle Edwin’s face, and the referee drops to the mat!  He asks Edwin if he wants to give up, but a muttered “Bloody hell no, get this mongoloid off of me!” is all that he gets out of the champ!  Bo rocks back and forth on Edwin’s back, putting massive strain all over the champ’s body.  “The Crank effects the legs, the back, and the neck all at once,” shouts Curry, “and Edwin MacPhisto is trapped inside it!”  Edwin claws at the mat as well as he can with the massive Bo torquing his entire form in unheard of ways, trying to pull himself towards the ropes, only a few feet away—but in the Perfect Crank, it may as well be a mile!  The Mac Daddy slowly makes progress, inching his way along the mat, agony and stress coursing through every muscle in his body as he slides on the mat below 285 pounds of big Bronx bulldog.  Bo sees Edwin getting closer and closer to the ropes, and he pumps the Crank harder in both directions, trying to force Edwin to submit before he can get there!  The crowd starts to clap, trying to rally their champion to make it through and successfully defend his title for the first time!

 

“MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!

 

MAC-PHIST-OOOOO!”

 

The chants are giving Edwin strength—or at least motivation—and he fights harder, trying to drag himself forward with his elbows.  Bo rises for a second to try to pull Edwin back to the center of the ring, but Edwin surges forward at that very moment, gaining a quick two feet on the ropes before sits back down violently, probably popping a vertebrae or dozen in the process!  “Edwin’s only a foot away from the ropes now—he’s almost there!  The crowd’s behind the Mac Daddy,” exclaims Curry.  “Can he do it?”

 

Edwin reaches forward, and suddenly Bo torques the STF extra-tight, sending a shock of pain through Edwin’s spine as the Bronx warrior aggravates Edwin’s long-standing weak neck!  Edwin cries out in pain and raises his hand, hesitating, the arm trembling tentatively…

 

“Edwin’s gonna tap!” squeals NTD!

 

Edwin brings his hand down…around the bottom rope!  With a stretch the Mac Daddy makes it, and the crowd pops as the ref hesitantly tells Bo to break the hold, not wanting to risk pushing Bo’s buttons any more than he must.  Edwin gets his second on the rope as Bo releases the STF, and the Perfect One gives the single crab one more disappointing crank before rising to his feet.  A relieved Edwin pulls himself up, staggering under the newfound sensation of movement as he grabs hold of the second rope…and gets torn off by Bo, who ends Edwin’s Pain-Free Parade with a brutal appearance of the I’m-Going-To-Choke-Your-Ass-Out Commemorative Float and locks a sick rear choke around Edwin’s throat, quickly transitioning to a kata-hajime!

 

“Wild Out!  Wild Out!” calls Curry, as the crowd elation at Edwin’s escape turns to shocked jeers.  “Edwin breaks one submission, and Bo throws him right back into the next!  I never thought of Bo as a submission wrestler,” says Curry, watching as Bo lifts Edwin off the ground and violently heaves him around the ring, “but I never of this sort of thing as a submission either!”  Bo drags Edwin across the ring and slams him into the ropes, keeping the Wild Out tazmission locked on at all times, choking the very life out of the champion!  The champion tries to fight back, but his feebly swinging arms knock against Bo’s sides ineffectively, and Perfect Bo keeps the pressure on!  The Perfect One tries to force Edwin forward face first, but Edwin plants his feet as best he can, stopping Bo’s forward momentum, only to have Bo stand back, squeeze the tazmission tighter, and vaults backwards with an incredible kata-hajime suplex!

 

“Good god!  How can Edwin breath?” wonders Curry, and Bo must be wondering the same thing!  He pulls Edwin up off the suplex, still maintaining the choke, but the Mac Daddy still has a little life in him, staggering around and flailing in Bo’s grasp.  Bo stumbles away from the center of the ring, shaking Edwin violently, and the ref follows, unable to communicate with Edwin and essentially just waiting to see if he passes out.  Bo keeps shaking, getting slightly frustrated at Edwin’s still flailing arms, and stumbles towards the near corner only to have Edwin surge back slightly and ring his back into the post with an avalanche…

 

…that doesn’t really do all that much.  Oops.

 

“Bo releases Edwin off that little avalanche, but I think the Hardcore God has got something worse planned!”  With Edwin drained from the Wild Out, Bo easily scoops him up and down again for a firm atomic drop.  The Mac Daddy is too tired to cry out, and Bo hooks under both of Edwin’s arms, dragging him back up again and flinging him into the ringpost chest first.  The crowd boos as the Perfect One lifts Edwin’s crumpled form up to the second rope, then the third, sitting him up top, facing out to the crowd.  Dizzy and dazed, Edwin offers a brief smile and wave to the fans, and then feels two firm hands clamp around his neck from behind!  “Neckbreaker off the top!  After the Wild Out, this might be enough to take out the champion!” moans Curry.  Bo starts to dash out of the corner and the entire Tulsa Center cringes with thoughts of the aftermath, but as Edwin’s legs pass over the top turnbuckle, the Mac Daddy kicks off and swings out!  Bo keeps dashing, but Edwin’s body goes horizontal and, in the air, he turns Bo’s facelock into a falling headlock!  The Mac Daddy pushes Bo’s neck forward as they fall, swings his legs around…and crushes Bo’s face with a spectacular, lightning-quick reversal into the Midnight Special!  “What a reversal!  Both men are down, and this match is blown wide open again!  These two are matching each other hit for hit, shock for shock!”  Both men are on their backs, downed from the big fall, and Edwin starts to roll over, a cheer rising the crowd as he manages to drape one arm across Bo’s heaving chest!  The ref dives to the mat and eagerly counts!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH—and Bo throws a shoulder up, Edwin’s arm limply sliding away in the meantime!  “Bo survives that reversal, but he’s looking a little groggy—then again, so is Edwin!” analyzes Curry.  “The Mac Daddy had to suffer the Perfect Crank and the Wild Out in immediate succession, and I don’t think his body is even close to being back to speed yet!”  Edwin tries to get up and confirms Curry’s suspicions, falling back to his knees when he tries to rise.  He moves more slowly the next time, going one knee at a time, while off to the side, Bo does the same.  “Both men are up, and here we go!” shouts Curry, as the champion and his challenger stagger towards each other.  Bo charges off the ropes and swings a right hook…and Edwin ducks!  The Mac Daddy cinches a waistlock from behind Bo, but a back elbow to the temple breaks him loose, and Bo throws his hands up to snag a shockingly fast ¾ facelock!  The crowd roars as Bo sets up Perfect Pain, but Edwin shoves forward and knocks Bo away before any damage is done!  Now it’s Edwin’s turn to charge, and he rockets towards Bo with a clothesline, but Bo ducks under!  Irony rears its ugly head as Bo now gets Edwin from behind with a rear waistlock, then vaults back much more successfully than the Mac Daddy, releasing Edwin at the top of the vault and sending him soaring into the ring ropes, which deaden forward progress and leave Edwin a lump on the mat!  “Release German suplex, wow!” calls Curry.  “Bo came dangerously close to sending Edwin over the top rope there, and that would have been an absolute mess!”

 

“Yeah!  They’re on the other side of the ring, so I couldn’t have seen it!”

 

Bo pulls the fallen Edwin up by the hair, knees him in the gut, and nabs a front facelock, but before he can fall back with the DDT, Edwin gets a well-placed toe kick into Bo’s right shin.  The Perfect One releases Edwin and clutches his shin, and Edwin sees the opportunity—he grabs an arm, steps forward, and whips Bo across the ring, charging after him!  The crowd breaks into a wild cheer as both men pick up steam, Bo bouncing off the ropes just moments before Edwin leaps with a huge charging crossbody…and gets caught!

 

“Woo-hoo!” cries NTD over the roaring boos.  “Elevator going DOWN!”

 

Bo roars and lifts the squirming Edwin, then drops to one knee and crushes the Mac Daddy with a rib breaker!  

 

“And now,” continues NTD, “elevator goooooooing up!”

 

Bo rises back to his full height, holding Edwin in a position ironically reminiscent of the Pieta for a brief moment before surging back and dumping Edwin over the top rope with a fallaway slam!  Edwin crashes into the thin mat on the outside and sprawls, shaking his head out as he tries to get back to his feet.  “And Edwin heads outside anyway,” says Curry, “and here comes Bo to finish the job!”  The fans in the front row are banging on the guardrail, shouting for Edwin to gets up, and as Bo climbs through the ropes and hops off the apron, he does, sliding under the ropes and back into the ring just as Bo grabs for him!

 

“What a pussy!  Pure pussy, right there!” squeals NTD.  “Bailing to the inside when all Bo wants is a fight on his own turf!”  The crowd’s cheers rise as Edwin gets to his feet in the ring, and he looks around at the raucous fans, then to Bo as the Perfect One sorts everything out.  With a brief sigh, Edwin makes a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say “ah, what the hell,” and suddenly bolts for the ropes!  Bo’s eyes go wide as Edwin leaps between the second and third ropes, crashing into him a moment later with a blazing tope suicida!  The crowd erupts as the two men go down, but the tope takes a lot out of Edwin, and he curls up next to Bo, slammed his fist against the thin mat as pain takes over.

 

“Edwin hits a brilliant tope suicida, but it looks like he forgot about all the punishment Bo took out of him earlier tonight—that stretched and strained body just took a big hit, and it looked great, but Bo’s getting up faster!”  Indeed, Perfect Bo is to one knee, and Edwin is merely clawing himself up onto the apron when the Perfect One grabs him from behind, slams his face into the apron once, and rolls him into the ring!  The Mac Daddy staggers to his feet as Bo climbs onto the apron, and Bo comes through with a big charge…that Edwin ducks!  The Mac Daddy runs out of room as Bo comes back with a big right hook, and he dodges back out through the ropes onto the apron!  Bo swings another huge punch, this time from the left, but before it can connect, Edwin locks his hands around Bo’s neck and sits out, snapping his neck off the top rope with a hangman!  The crowd roars as Bo falls back like a felled redwood, and Edwin pulls himself up, eagerly looking to the top turnbuckle and taking a step before he doubles over, clutching his ribs in pain!  

 

“Looks like the Mac Daddy’s having second thoughts about another big move!” laughs NTD.  “Puss-eeeee!”

 

“I can’t blame him, NTD!  He just took a helluva lot out—and here he c omes, back through the ropes!”  Edwin shakes off the pain and decides against the top rope, instead sliding through the ropes and diving towards Bo with a schoolboy!  The ref drops to count and Bo comes to life with a thrash!

 

ONE!

 

TWO—and Bo powers out, sending Edwin flying!  Edwin careens back to the mat in pain, and Bo drags himself up, closing the distance to the Crown Prince and pulling him up by his hair.  Bo wastes no time and grabs a front waistlock, but Edwin rocks forward with a headbutt, frees himself from the grasp, and rears back his right palm!  “Here it comes!” shouts Curry, and Edwin rockets forward, driving a monstrous palm strike into Bo’s chest, but not budging him an inch!  Edwin’s jaw drops, but he rears back for another, only to have Bo snags his arms and whip him—no, a resolute Edwin plants his feet and reverses the whip!  Bo rockets towards the ropes but picks up speed on the rebound, breaking into a charge and leaping with a clothesline takedown!  The fans gasp, but Bo throws his arm out a little early and Edwin sees it coming!  As Bo leaps, Edwin steps forward and catches him, using Bo’s own momentum to twist the big man around in front of him, get his arm across Bo’s chest, and sit-out with a fluid tilt-a-whirl uranage!

 

“My god, what a reversal into that sideslam uranage!  The crowd is loving it—and here’s the cover!  The champ retains!”  The fans count along!

 

“ONE!

 

TWOOO!

 

THROOOOOOOOOOOOH!”  Bo kicks out just before three, and the mood fades to black!  Edwin shakes his head and pulls Bo up, wanting to get out of this situation as quickly as he can.  Edwin tries to hook Bo’s arms for the Encore Cross, but thinks better of it as Bo fights out.  The Mac Daddy looks up…

 

…and he sees the corner.

 

Without regard for his own body, Edwin takes Bo into a facelock and charges the nearby corner, running up the ropes, drawing a huge cheer from the crowd!  “Spinal Tap!  One of Edwin’s strongest moves, it might be enough to take Bo—OHHHHHH!”  As Edwin reaches the top and starts to turn back towards the ring, Bo powers forward and shoves the champion off the top turnbuckle!  Flashbulbs pop as Edwin sails to the outside, falling slowly, slowly, until he crashes down chest first across the guardrail!  The Mac Daddy collapses in a heap, and the requisite “HOLY SHIT” chant starts up!  “Edwin takes a huge fall, and that’s got to have ruined his ribs!  This isn’t looking good for the champion!”

 

“But it’s looking great for Bo!” quips NTD.

 

The referee starts his ten-count, but Bo breaks it immediately, yearning to punish as he heads through the ropes and outside, where Edwin lays crumpled against the guardrail.  The fans rag at Bo, and he after calling a 12-year old girl a “wack-ass ho,” Bo promptly pulls Edwin up and drives a shoulder into Edwin’s limp chest!  

 

CLANG!  The Mac Daddy’s body rattles the guardrail!

 

CLANG!  Bo does it again, then grabs a ¾ facelock!  “Perfect Pain!”  But Edwin shoves away just as Bo’s about to leap to a big pop!  Edwin steadies himself on the guardrail, but a moment later an enraged Bo splashes him against it!  Edwin starts to fall, but before he can reach the ground, Bo gets him in the ¾ facelock, and this time Edwin is too weak to fight back!

 

WHAM!  Bo hits the Perfect Pain, and Edwin MacPhisto is laid out on the outside of the ring!  A thunderous wave of boos fills the Tulsa Center, and things look grim!  “Perfect Pain on the outside!  MacPhisto has got to be dead!”  The ref starts to count the men out as Bo lifts Edwin up, and sure enough, the Mac Daddy is barely moving.  Struggling with 240 pounds of absolute dead weight, Bo staggers towards the apron, bearing Edwin like a bride over the threshold, dropping him down, and rolling him into the ring as the referee counts seven.  The fans are in an uproar, but NTD is ecstatic as Bo crawls in and covers MacPhisto for perhaps the final time tonight!

 

“WOOO-HOOOO!”

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—NO, Edwin gets a shoulder up at the last possible second, and the arena explodes!

 

“BO SUCKS!  BO SUCKS!”

 

“CARN-I-VAL!  CARN-I-VAL!”

 

“Lies!  Lies, all!” screams NTD!

 

“Bo had to move Edwin inside the ring, and that made all the difference in the world!” shouts Curry over the din of the crowd.  “MacPhisto had just enough time to recover from the devastating Perfect Pain, but I can’t say that I like his chances right about now!”  Inside the ring, Bo is absolutely raging, pulling the referee up by his shirt and yelling about the three-count!  The Perfect One throws the referee aside and he crashes into the corner, barely holding himself up as Bo returns his attention to the downed MacPhisto.  Bo pulls Edwin up again and whips him to the corner, and the Mac Daddy takes the bump badly, crashing back first and crying out in pain.  Bo charges in from behind and drives a running knee into Edwin’s gut, knocking out whatever wind’s left in his sails after the brutal match-long assault on his ribs, chest, and breathing functions.  With a roar, Bo pulls Edwin up and sits him on the top rope, climbing up to the second as trepidation fills the arena, and then climbing to the third and final as the Tulsa Center breaks into a panic!

 

“You know what Bo does up there!” cackles NTD.  “The one, the only—the Perfect Death!”  Bo lands a front facelock and grabs Edwin by the waist, and Curry’s mouth is running a mile a minute as he tries to assess the situation.

 

“If Bo hits the top-rope brainbuster, Edwin’s gone!  Kaput!  Kablammo!  New champion!  Too many words, too little time!”  Curry runs out of steam and covers his eyes as Bo lifts…and goes nowhere!  Edwin plants his feet!  Bo lifts again…and still nothing!  “The Mac Daddy’s holding on!”  Bo looks down at Edwin and releases the waist, raising a big fist to finish him off, and Edwin, now freed up, suddenly SHOVES FORWARD and sends Bo soaring!  “COUNTER!  COUNTER!” shouts Curry, and the crowd is riotous!  Edwin staggers to his feet, almost toppling back out of the ring as he steadies himself, and as Bo rises to his feet, he leaps off the top rope with a huge missile dropkick!

 

WHAM!  The shot takes Bo right in the chest, and he topples over!  Edwin scrambles back to his feet and pulls Bo up, but Bo still has a lot of fight left in him, and he swings a big punch!  Edwin takes one in the jaw, then another from the opposite side, but as Bo swings back with one more fist, Edwin ducks!  “MacPhisto escapes, and the crowd is going into conniptions!” shouts Curry.  “This is too close!”  Edwin ducks Bo’s fist and gets behind him, and he gets one more rear waistlock—no, Bo elbows him in the head!  Edwin staggers, but before Bo can turn, he cleverly transitions up and cinches his right arm around Bo’s neck, pulling him back into a nasty dragon sleeper!  “Dragon sleeper—but there’s no way Edwin can lift Bo for his signature brainbuster!  He’s tried before and failed!”  The Mac Daddy holds Bo as he wriggles, then moves his right leg out, grapevining it with Bo’s left!  The Mac Daddy blows a kiss to the crowd with his left hand, and then falls backward, catching Bo in a modified Russian legsweep and drilling him into the mat with high-angle precision!  “Dragon sleeper Russian legsweep—what a move, what a modification!  And here’s the cover!  This is it!”  The cheers are bombastic as Edwin covers the downed Bo, and the referee drops in…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THRE—no, Bo KICKS OUT!  Edwin can’t believe it!  The fans can’t believe it!  Curry can’t believe it!

 

“I can’t believe it!”

 

Told ya.

 

Now on his last breaths, out of clever solutions, Edwin desperately pulls Bo back to his feet.  The Mac Daddy launches one more shotei into Bo’s chest, shooting him back towards the ropes and stunning him for a moment longer, and then gives him a shove on the shoulder!  Bo spins 180 degrees, and Edwin MacPhisto hooks his arms back-to-back!  “Encore Cross?” wonders Curry.  “Edwin’s debilitated!  He can’t lift 285 pounds of Bo!”  

 

Edwin powers forward, the crowd roaring…but he can’t lift him!  He tries again, and suddenly Bo’s hands shoot back and grab Edwin’s neck!  “PERFECT PAIN!  REVERSAL!  THIS IS OVER!”  But before Bo can hit his finisher again, Edwin shoots a kick back into Bo’s right leg and busts forward!  MacPhisto spins to face Bo, but just as he turns Bo fires off a huge right hook and spins Edwin right back into the ¾ facelock!  “Another lock—ahhhhhhh!”  Curry loses it as Bo takes a step forward, but Edwin shoots forward to—to no avail!  Bo maintains the facelock, and takes one more step…and Edwin dashes BACKWARDS!  Before Bo can react, he crashes into the ropes chest-first and bounces back, his arms breaking loose and falling RIGHT INTO EDWIN’S GRASP!  “ANOTHER REVERSAL!  EDWIN HAS THE ARMS LOCKED!”  Still springing with the ropes, Edwin dashes one step, leaps…

 

…AND HITS A DIVING ENCORE CROSS RIGHT INTO THE CENTER OF THE RING!  Bo’s head impacts the mat and he collapses as Edwin flips away, unable to maintain the backslide off the huge impact!  The Mac Daddy clambers back towards the center of the ring, sliding his body over Bo’s, and the crowd goes nuts as the ref drops!  “HE DID IT!  Edwin pulled off an Encore Cross--”

 

ONNNNE!

 

“—and can he hold onto his title with that move?”

 

TWOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

“Yes!  He did it!  Edwin MacPhisto gets the pin!”  The bell rings, and Edwin rolls off of Bo, clutching at his ribs as the referee helps him to his feet!

 

“Your winner, and STILL S-W-F WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION—Edwin MacPhistOOOOO!”  The timekeeper runs in with the belt, and, one hand in the referee’s hand, the other on his belt, Edwin stands triumphant in the center of the ring as “Battleflag” starts to bump!  The lights whirl wildly and the crowd cheers with gusto!

 

“Gahhh!  Bo was so close!  So close!   This isn’t the last time, Edwin—you got lucky!” rants NTD.

 

“It was a great match, and a great main event to end this week’s Storm!  The Mac Daddy makes his first successful title defense to top off a night of amazing action!”  The celebration continues as Edwin slides out of the ring, giving the belt a big kiss as he starts to backstrut up the ramp, slapping the hands of fans as he passes, beaming a huge grin!  In the ring, Bo starts to come to, and seeing how he’s been beaten, has a fit, slamming his fist into the mat before charging the ropes and jaw-jacking at the Mac Daddy!  “Bo can’t be happy, but he’s gonna have to live it—Edwin MacPhisto has proven tonight that he’s a capable champion, and that’s a fact Bo can’t deny!  We’re out of time tonight, but tune in on Monday for another night of SWF action!  For NTD, Ben Hardy, and the whole crew, this is Curry Man, signing off!”

 

“Battleflag” keeps blaring as Edwin gets to the top of the ramp, posing one more time, title belt outstretched, while in the ring, Perfect Bo stares daggers at him, at the belt, and at an even deeper lust for revenge…

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Annie Eclectic vs. Xero

- Annie finally wins!  Next thing you know people will be wearing gloves on their feet and hamburgers will eat people!

 

TAG TEAM MATCH

El Luchadore Magnifico & Johnny Rotten vs. Chris Wilson & Stryke

- Wilson smells!  But he won anyways...darn.

 

SINGLES MATCH

Munich vs. Durandal

- Evil wins out again.

 

US TITLE MATCH

Jay Dawg © vs. Chris Raynor

- Wow...not only is Dawg the biggest jobber in SWF history, but he's the first person ever to be stripped of the same title not once, but twice!  I guess what they say is true...Jay Dawg sucks.  

 

NON-TITLE MATCH

Ash Ketchum vs. Xstasy

- Ash beats up Xstasy but they kiss and make up after.  Awwwww...

 

3/5 FALLS MATCH FOR THE ICTV TITLE

Fallout © vs. Sacred

- Your winner 3 falls to 2...Sacred!

 

SWF HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE MATCH

Edwin MacPhisto © vs. Perfect Bo

- Read the match and find out...