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SWF Smarkdown 3-20-06

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Spike Jenkins opens his car door, stepping out of the late-model beast and into the darkened parking garage. Carrying his gym bag, he strides confidently toward the exit, ready to start preparing mentally for his bout against Ghost Machine. As he walks toward the door, however, he walks past a small alcove, darkened by the lack of natural light, but punctuated by plumes of thick cigar smoke.


"Jenkins..." comes the throaty, female voice, silhouetted by the shadows. "You know who I am."


"Uhh... not really," says Spike.


"They call me Deep Throat," she whispers, taking a long puff on the cigar.




"Belcourt is too protective," she says, "but I know you want to know."


"What do I want to know?"


Frustrated, the woman's voice raises to a screech.


"Ghost Machine's identity, you idiot!"


"Oh. Yeah, I suppose," says Spike.


"Come with me," she whispers, and leads him into the all-concealing shadows.

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The Smartmark's Wrestling Federation Presents...



(7:00pm PST, 10:00pm EST; check local listings)




Tonight, the SWF's Hell or High Water tour marches East, to the Astrodome!


The SWF is short one commentator! In an effort to find the perfect replacement for Longdogger Pete, the SWF will be having trial runs for a number of different potential candidates. Tonight, the Suicide King will be joined by none other than AXIS~!


(I'll be honest, guys - I'm pretty much asleep at the keyboard right now. First person to come up with a good description for Axis gets a cookie.)


Unfortunately, many of our champions are still recovering from injuries, which I'm sure is why they did not make any appearances on AftershoxxXxXxxxX. Hint hint.


In any event, certain title matches will have to be held off until Storm, at least - Spike vs. Akira and Jay Hawke vs. Wildchild, specifically. So what's a fed to do in the mean time?




And in order to accomodate tonight's House Rules match, the stadium will be set up as if this were a baseball game! The wrestling ring will be in the middle of the field, right over the pitchers mound! Wrestlers will enter from the dugouts! Entrance music will be hard to hear and very echo-y! Someone will play cheesy tunes on an organ!


Doodlee-doo dee-doo! CHARGE!




The Main Event

Wildchild © vs. Kevin Coyote (non-title)


---> Two men who scored high-profile wins at From the Fire battle it out in the Main Event! Kevin Coyote, having now rid the fed of Longdogger Pete, fixes his gaze upward. His crack at the International Champion isn't for the title this time, but if he managed to pull out the upset... well... we'll just have to see.


Rules: Standard singles match.




Ultraviolent Championship Match - House Rules

Scoreboard Scuffle

Bruce Blank © vs. Arch Griffon


---> The gauntlet has been thrown down. After Michael Cross was barred from competing on AftershoxXXXxXXxX, Bruce is just itching for a fight, and has welcomed all comers with a shot at his title. The first man to step up - Arch Griffon.


Tonight also marks the return of the House Rules match. Now when you think of the "house" in question, you probably think of baseball. But we couldn't exactly have Bruce and Arch play a game of baseball, now could we?


... actually, come to think of it...


No, we'll save that for later.


Instead, the SWF's overpaid and underworked House Rules committee, over the course of digging up Astrodome factoids, I came across two veeeery interesting ones...


1 - The stadium's first scoreboard was the world's largest. It was 474-feet long, weighed 300 tons and cost $2 million. It was dismantled in 1988 to make room for additional 10,000 seats.


2 - On April 28, 1965, Mets broadcaster Lindsey Nelson worked a game from a gondola suspended from the apex of the dome directly above second base.


A plus B equals...


Rules: The original Astrodome scoreboard, all 474 feet of it, has been pieced back together in its original, working form. For the purposes of this match, it will be suspended approximately 25 feet above the outfield, facing up. It will be running at the time of the match, with light displays, etcetera. The match will be fought under Scaffold Match rules - toss your opponent off to win.




Jimmy the Doom and Insane Luchadore vs. Sean Davis and JJ Johnson


---> Calvinball winners vs. Calvinball not-quite-winners. FIGHT!


Rules: Standard Tag Team Match




Cruiserweight Exhibition Match

Ghost Machine 2.0 vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins


---> With Akira Kaibatsu being groun-... uh... being injured at From the Fire... yeah, that's it... the Cruiserweight Championship Match between he and Spike will not happen on this show. Instead, Spike will face the man who gets a shot at the winner of that match, Ghost Machine 2.0!


Rules: Standard, with Cruiserweight addenda - outside count goes to 20, no tossing opponents over the top rope.




We're Very Sorry We Forgot To Book You At From The Fire Match

One-Weapon Rules

The Crimson Skull vs. David Cross


---> So, we made a bit of a snafu, and forgot to book Skull. We are shamed. To make up for it, the Crimson Skull will open this extra special show, and with an advantageous stipulation no less!


Rules: The Crimson Skull is allowed to bring one (1) weapon to the ring with him. It may be anything he chooses. For this match, that weapon is completely and totally legal. All other standard singles match rules apply.




Opening Promo: Wes mu'fuckin Davenport, mu'fuckas!

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Wes Davenport's mind blowingly brilliant opening promo was just too awesome to be aired. The SWF's video crew is working feverishly to edit down enough that we can watch it without our brains exploding.


It will be edited in soon.

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Cameras zoom across the Astrofield, lit up tonight not for a baseball game but instead for a night of action! (Zing~!) The SWF comes to town tonight and brings with it a new World Champion, a new International Champion, and a whole slew of other important people that are obviously not important enough, since they're not being mentioned here!


"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, David Cross makes his first advertised appearance in the SWF since his surprise return at From The Fire! His long awaited return last week.."


"… long awaited? Pffft…" King chimes in, mockingly.


"… sent shockwaves through the locker room." Axis trudges along, despite King's dismay. "Tonight, he meets the man elected to the welcoming committee, The Crimson Skull, in a rather unique match-up. There will be only one weapon that has been handpicked by the supervillain allowed into the ring, and it will be legal for the entirety of the match! We can only speculate as to what this weapon will be now that Heff traded away his most prized one to Bruce Blank a few weeks ago in exchange for a shot at the highly contested Ultraviolent Championship."


"Wow, you sure seem to know your stuff for someone who has been absent from the federation himself for years!" King seemingly gives his partner a compliment, "not much of a social life down there in Australia?"


"I just have pride in following the product that, I feel, I had at least a slight influence upon. Did you not watch the SWF when you were inactive?"




"Ugh…" Axis sighs. "Back to the topic at hand… this is a highly anticipated show! We've got a great card lined up tonight, despite many champions still being out after a hellacious From The Fire. If you missed From The Fire, then don't forget to catch it on the replay, only on pay-per-view!"


"It'll be your very last chance to see my now departed announcing partner Longdogger Pete! Don't let that discourage you from what was overall a very enjoyable program, even though it could've used more cowbell."


"I hope you wont be this discouraging towards me whenever I'm not here next show."


"Don't worry, Axis." King says, soothingly. "I don't get attached to my pets that fast."


"… moving along," Axis looks at his notes, "we have a Cruiserweight Exhibition match, a rather unique scaffold match, and plenty of Pepsi One™ goodness! All the taste but just one calorie!"


"… I'm dumbfounded by your shillfullness. You get a gold star for originality."


"Anyways, Funyon is in the ring, so lets go to him and get this match started!"


"Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall and will be contested under…" Funyon stops to think, "unique rules! Introducing first…"


The lights that have been illuminating the crowd start to strobe slightly leading to…


*DESTROY!* .. estroy… troy…


"S*kt It Up" by (hed) PE plays out over the public address system inside the stadium, echoing throughout the stands. The fans at ringside stand to their feet and cheer, welcoming the returning David Cross to the Astrodome! Cross emerges out of a dugout and raises his hand up in a fist to salute everyone that has come to adore him tonight. The former Fallen Angel swiftly makes his way to the ring, noticing the scoreboard that hangs precariously above it.


"This has to be a big night for Cross, win or lose, he's made it back to the largest stage there is for professional wrestling!"


"This aint no Oat Toast, that's for sure!" King says, spitting his early show snack out and back into the face of the page boy that has brought it to him.


"...he stands six foot five inches tall and weighs in at 269 pounds! Originally from Oil City, Pennsylvania, he now resides in Salem, Oregon! Please welcome back to the SWF a former tag team champion...DAAAAAAVID CROSS!"


He rolls underneath the bottom rope and into the ring, raising his arms into the air and soaking up a few more cheers. David begins his pre-match stretches as his music starts to die down.


"And his opponent…" Funyon says with anticipation.




Sparks erupt out of all four corners of the newly reassembled (with new pyrotechnic ability) scoreboard that has been suspended above the ring. The sky above the scoreboard remains lit as it begins to strobe, illuminating the Dance Squad™ that had been positioned, waiting for the correct time to dance!


"Everybody dance now!"


All six women begin to gyrate to the music as "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now!)" by C & C Music Factory plays out in the stadium. The fans give a rousing reception to the dancing girls… and then Heff and The Crimson Skull make their way out of the dugout… carrying…


"Now's the moment of truth…" Axis says, sitting on the edge of his seat.


Skull raises his arm and reveals… a baseball bat, wrapped in barbed wire! The crowd cheers for the most classic weapon in wrestling history, yet still widely feared throughout the federation. Skull takes a feigned swing for the stands as he steps over the homeplate, and then points towards Cross.


"… making his way to the ring, standing six feet four inches tall, weighing in at 285 pounds, from parts unknown! Accompanied by Heff… he is… THE CRIMSON SKULL!"


"Skull picked a barbed wire baseball bat!"


"Classic," King says approvingly. "Violent enough to hurt, but hopefully not violent enough to get us pulled off the air!"


"Indeed," agrees the mindless Axis.


Skull reaches the ring, and then climbs in between the middle two ropes as Heff flanks the ring. Skull locks eyes with his opponent, and walks directly at him, trying to intimidate the slightly smaller man. Cross has been through hell and high water (or, possibly fire and brimstone), to get to the SWF, and he's not going to back down from anyone. Referee Nick Sanchez rushes in to keep the two separated and explain the rules of this unique match.


"The rules are simple guys, it's a singles match with the exception of one weapon being allowed… is this your weapon?"


"Yes." Skull calmly replies, eyes still locked on Cross, before handing the bat over to Sanchez.


"Jesus, I don't want this thing…"


"Hold on to it for me. I've fought off colds stronger than this guy." Skull replies with a smirk.


*Ding ding ding!*


With that, Cross gladly extends his arms for a test of strength, which Skull accepts. The two grapple for a few seconds, but Skull has an obvious advantage. It doesn't matter, though, as Skull takes a cheap way out and sends a knee to Cross' stomach, bending him over in pain. Cross stands back up quickly, but then receives a clothesline that knocks him to the mat. David climbs quickly to his feet again, and as The Crimson Skull comes back in for a second clothesline, flips him over with a simple arm drag takedown. As Skull starts to climb back up, David sends an elbow to the back of his head to keep him under his power. Cross grabs Skull by his hand, and quickly pulls him into a short arm lariato, knocking Skull onto his back. While the two tussle, Referee Nick Sanchez slides to the corner of the ring and deposits the selected weapon against the ropes, leaning with the handle upright. Cross lays down next to Skull and tries to apply a crossface-like maneuver, but Skull leans back into him and locks on a simple chokehold, drawing the referee back into the action! Sanchez warns Skull to break the hold, and then begins to administer a five count! By the time he's reached four, Skull has broke the hold and is questioning the referee as to why he's being forced to break a hold in a hardcore match.


"I had no idea the rules were going to be administered so stiff in this match!"


"Apparently the referee was told to watch these two closely, as this is simply a themed singles match and not a true hardcore encounter!" Axis adds, "or so I've been told…"


As Cross starts to stand to his feet, Skull quickly rakes his hand across the eyes of his opponent, and then turns and sticks his tongue out defiantly at the referee. Skull locks his hands together and then spins, bringing them into contact with the side of Cross' face on the back end of the spin, knocking him off balance. David teeters around on his left foot, and then receives a stiff punch to his back around the kidney area! He arcs forward in pain, but it only gets worst from there! Skull kicks David in the back of his legs, causing him to collapse to his knees. He then proceeds to shove his knee into his back, and stretches out the Fallen Angel! Cross reaches out in pain, possibly aiming for the ropes, possibly trying to call a cab, who really knows? The point is, this hurts! Referee Sanchez comes in to check for a submission, but David waves him off, knowing this is way too early to give up!


"It looks like David is stuck between a rock and The Crimson Skull's knee…" King giggles to himself.


Cross edges his feet back to underneath himself, while Skull tries to bare down harder on his own hold. Around the arena, a simple chant goes up… but it speaks volumes to the man in the ring.








As if he's being charged by the energy of the fans, Cross begins to muscle his feet back to underneath him, and as the chant grows louder and faster he pushes himself back up to his feet! Cross quickly wraps his arms back and around the head of The Crimson Skull… then drops out for a jawbreaker across his shoulder!




The crowd erupts as it feels Cross come alive for the first time in this match! David is quickly back to his feet, and turns to face the staggering Skull, and then greets him with a forearm that sends him towards the corner of the ring. Cross follows him around the ring, and Skull turns around quickly to try and nail him with a right hand… Cross blocks it, though, and returns with a shot of his own that sends the wavering villain into the corner!


"Skull's lights are fading fast… almost as fast as Skull Radio!"


"What?" King says, darting his eyes from side to side.


David sends a foot into the gut of his opponent… followed by another and another! With the strength of thousands of fans behind him, The Fallen Angel grabs his opponent by the hand and quickly whips him into the corner towards the baseball bat! The ever-aware supervillain notices this though, and manages to somehow jump to the second turnbuckle and avoid the bat! He can't avoid Cross, though, as he follows Skull, and uses the force of gravity to pluck his opponent off the rope with an awkward looking belly-to-back suplex! The two hit the mat in what can't be Skull's only crash landing in his life. The duo sit on the mat for a few seconds trying to catch their breath, while Heff is standing at ringside expending all of his yelling for his boss to get up, before Cross manages to roll over and cover his opponent.








Cross is barely able to get a two count before Skull gets his shoulder up off the mat! David, with much effort, pushes himself up off the mat and goes in search of one missing baseball bat. He turns to look at the corner in which it was placed, and then begins to stumble towards it only to have Heff quickly pluck it out of the ring from under the bottom rope! David calls to the malevolent assistant, who obviously refuses to return the weapon.


"Now this is just uncalled for," Axis says drudgingly. "Heff has no place in this match!"


"He's just doing what he's paid to do."


"And what's that, King?"


"To serve and protect The Crimson Skull at all cost, of course."


With Heff not willing to return the weapon to the ring, it leaves Cross only one option… to go out and get it! David rolls under the rope close to where the evil assistant had been perched, but Heff takes off running as soon as he even motions that he might be thinking about leaving the ring. Cross takes off running after him and, even with a bad knee, he seems to be catching on the much smaller man. As Cross turns to make his way around to the third side of the ring, he's greeted with a less-than-pleasant clothesline that almost flips him over completely! Skull sends a boot to the back of his head while he's down, and then rolls Cross back into the ring. With a smile that almost says "do your worst", Heff gladly hands the bat over to the villainous wrestler. Skull slides under the bottom rope to rejoin the unfortunate David Cross.


"Maybe they should've just scheduled this as a handicap match…" sighs the Australian wrestler turned announcer, Axis.


"Now there's something we need more of… handicap matches! Nothing like a good beatdown to get a card started off right!"


Cross struggles to regain his bearings as he staggers back to his feet… completely unaware of the fact that his opponent is stalking him the entire time. With a sinister smile that lets his intentions leak out, Skull pulls the bat back, and with all his strength, plunges the barbed wire end into Cross' stomach! Cross squeals in pain, and coils back appropriately. Skull stalks around his opponent, and then sends a quick foot to the back of David's legs again, knocking him down to his knees. This time, though, Skull steps closer to his opponent, and then places the bat on David's forehead and begins slide the bat back and forth across the young man's cranium! The crowd at hand doesn't know to boo this disgusting act or not, but Axis says what's on everyone's mind…


"I think I'm going to be sick!"


Cross may seem stuck, but he turns an elbow into Skull's side… and again! The air knocked out of him, Skull removes the bat from his head, and a bloodied David Cross stands to his feet again! The Crimson Skull regains his breath quick and comes charging back in at his injured opponent much like a shark would… but this fish has fight left in him! Cross counter's Skull's advances with a spinebuster that almost shakes the ring! Knowing that this amount of blood loss can't be good for anyone, even a man of David's stature, he drops down on his knees and quickly drapes over his strewn opponent. Referee Nick Sanchez slides in for the count.










Kickout~! Skull still has a lot of fight left in him, and easily kicks out of a rather lose hold by his still heavily breathing opponent.


"He was just a second away from picking up the win!" Axis cheers.


"… and lines like that show why we don't win Peabody Awards."


Cross pulls Skull back up by the hand, only to German Suplex the big man up and over! But with this amazing display of power comes pain, as David clinches at his forehead after the rush of blood to the head he experienced along with the move. He staggers back to his feet and sends a half-hearted kick to the side of Skull's face. Cross once again pulls Skull to his feet, and this time goes for a belly to belly suplex, only to have it blocked! David sends a right hand into Skull's side, and then tries to suplex him again only to have it blocked again! Skull pulls back, and then sends his shoulder into the stomach of The Fallen Angel before lifting him up with a bear hug! Referee Nick Sanchez once again comes in to check for a submission.


"If Cross submits to a bear hug, then he should probably go right ahead and sign his own release papers." King says, mockingly.


He's right, though, and David isn't the only one that realizes this. Skull simply says "screw it" and tosses David back down to the mat in order to turn his attention to Heff instead.


With Cross down, Skull calls to Heff for… a lighter? Heff starts searching through his pockets, but for some reason the man has about ten pockets on his outfit! I mean, seriously… who carries that much stuff? It's just ridiculous. Heff finally finds a cigarette lighter in his back right pocket and tosses it over the ropes and to Skull! With bat in hand, the supervillain runs his finger over the sparking mechanism…








*…. Shink ….. *


Nothing. All this time, though, Cross has been climbing back to his feet… and as Skull turns, he's greeted with a low blow! The crowd pops, and the pure shock of the move (not to mention the excruciating pain) takes the big man down hard and causes him to relinquish his hold on his barbed wire bat as he falls. Referee Nick Sanchez cautions David Cross of the rules of the match and how those types of things will not be allowed, but he doesn't care now. Cross is in a lot of pain and bleeding out of his forehead from the bat being grated across his face earlier. He just wants to get out of the ring. Cross pulls the hurting Crimson Skull to his feet by his neck, and then manages to lift him up off the mat and slam him down with a chokeslam!


"This late in the match, that might be it for The Crimson Skull!" Axis cautions, "I wouldn't say this is absolutely over, though."


"You can't count a man this size out until you've pinned him for a three count. You should know that, Axis!"


Cross drops down to his knees, and then lazily covers The Crimson Skull. The referee slides in to make the count…











ThrNOOOO~! Skull picks his foot up, and drapes it limply across the bottom rope. Or in all actuality, Heff did. But don't tell Cross that! David shoots to his feet, almost positive he's won the match only to have the news broken to him that Skulls foot was on the rope. Frustrated, Cross forms a quick plan involving a certain bat and a lighter that he's just remembered. The crowd starts to bubble with anticipation as David scopes up the bat and lighter and…










The glow of the lit barbed wire bat illuminates the darkness that surrounds the ring. Flashbulbs go off in the stand… this is a hardcore lovers dream come true. Unfortunately, Heff proves to be their nightmare! The Crimson Skulls evil assistant jumps up onto the side of the ring insisting that Cross should've been thrown out of the match already, or at least should have the bat stripped from his hands! Unfortunately, the referee doesn't see eye to eye with him on this matter.


"That dirty Sanchez! Throw Cross out of the ring!" King petitions.


"If the shoe was on the other foot, you'd be praising Skulls ingenious defense!"


"What are you trying to say?" King replies with a smile.


Referee Nick Sanchez tries his best to get Heff off the side of the ring apron, but his words seem to have no effect on the flamboyant manager. Actions have always been stronger than words, though…






"Holy Shit!"


"Holy Shit!"


"Holy Shit!"


Heff drops limply to the apron, and then rolls off onto the floor of the make-shift arena, after being on the business end of a wicked swing from the former Florida State defensive end! He lays face down against the mat, but there's undoubtedly damage to the face of the man.


"Heff is a manager, not a wrestler!" King yells. "There was no need for that! Throw Cross out of this match!"


"Holy shit! Holy shit!" Axis echoes.


"… stop that!"


One distraction taken care of, Cross turns around with a smile on his face to








The Crimson Skull puts his full weight behind him and crashes into David with a spear that sends shockwaves through the ballpark! The bat flies away from the duo, landing somewhere on the other side of the ring and then rolling underneath the bottom rope and out of the ring! Skull pushes himself up off the mat, and then grabs Cross's legs and uses them to help him apply pressure down as he pins the former tag team champion.














*Ding Ding!*


Skull shoves Cross' legs away from him as he climbs off of the bloody and possibly broken man. The crowd, now over the shock, starts to boo as Skull raises his hands in a sign of victory, and then rolls out of the ring to beside Heff. As medical personnel start to swarm out of the back, Skull simply picks up his assistant and slings him over his shoulder. He carries him up the ramp as Axis and King are left to finally respond to what they've just witnessed.


"A hard fought match, but Skull still somehow manages to come away with the victory!"


"All I have to say is, welcome back to the SWF Mr. David Cross!" King applauds, "message delivered!"


"He fought with the heart of a champion though, King!"


The two continue to bicker as we quickly shift to commercial break.

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*Earlier today in front of the Smarkdown backdrop*


Cameraman: "Just take a few minutes and say whatever comes to mind."


Jay Hawke: "OK, but let's make this quick. I can't stand the smell of this state."


Cameraman: "OK then. In five, four, three..."


After a brief pause, Hawke looks up at the camera, and once he gets the signal that they're rolling, he begins to speak.


Hawke: "You know, there are some things in life that are certain. Death. Taxes. OJ did it. But there are just as many things that aren't certain. Which way the wind will blow. Who will win the Super Bowl. Whether OJ will admit he did it before he dies. And there are things that should be certainties but somehow aren't. Like how Wildchild certainly should not be holding my International Championship at the present. But indeed, he has my title. For now. But you see, you don't get to be called the "Dean of Professional Wrestling" without being one step ahead of the game. Wildchild assumed that once he beat me in the cage, he was finished with me. Well, he's only just begun with me.


"This Friday night on Storm, I am invoking my mandatory rematch clause. And rest assured that while I appreciate the fact that Wildchild has been shining my belt up real nice for me this past week, he's merely keeping it warm for me. He's simply borrowing my title. I'll be watching his match with Kevin Coyote tonight, and I'll be looking for that one weakness -- that one fatal flaw -- that will secure me my title and bring that shiny belt right back where it belongs: Around my waist, in my possession, and away from that glorified midcard joke.


"This Friday night, Wildchild, I will teach you a wresling lesson that you will never forget and get my title back. And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it!"


After a pause.


Cameraman: "And....we're clear. Thanks Jay, that was great."


Hawke: "Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know."


"Cocky as always, I see."


Hawke: "What did you say?"


Cameraman: "I didn't say anything."


"I did."


Hawke finally realizes there's a third party in the room and turns to his left. When he sees who he's facing, his jaw drops, but all the people at home see is the left arm of a black coat coming into camera range.


???: "Everytime you get a title for any length of time at all, you get cocky, and you lose the belt. Will you ever change?"


Hawke: "What the hell are you doing here?"


???: "I've been watching you for the past year. I'm always watching."


Hawke: "Well, thank you, Santa Claus."


???: "I saw you blow it at From the Fire and figured now was the time to check in and get your head back on track."


Hawke: "Wait a second. I haven't seen you in what, four, five years? And now you're just going to waltz right in here like you own the place. Forget it. I don't need you to get back on track."


???: "Who do you need then? Johnson? Maddix? Johnson can't figure out if he wants to wrestle or be caged like some damn animal. And Maddix? He's fighting a losing battle. I know you're smart enough to see that."


Hawke: "I've got to go."


Jay Hawke starts to turn away, but the mysterious cloaked arm reaches out, a hand grabbing Hawke by the arm and pulling him closer.


???: "Just take a little bit of free advice. Don't go into Friday's match too arrogant. It killed you at From the Fire, and it will kill you again if you're not careful."


The hand lets go off Hawke, and the arm slowly disappears off screen as Jay Hawke stares off in that general direction. Hawke sighs, then walks off in the opposite direction mumbling to himself, "The nerve of some people."

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Zyon, alone in his locker room. Yes, HIS locker room. The Unique Youth has come a long way since the beginning of his career where he was nothing more than a sideshow attraction. Since entering the SWF, Zyon has gained the fame and fortune many can only dream about. He’s held titles, met various celebrities, and has ventured out into territories that many leave uncharted. He should be happy.


Why is it though, that while wearing a Dillinger Escape Plan T-shirt and a pair of expensive jeans, that Zyon finds himself unsatisfied? Why is it though, while rocking back in a chair, resting his head against the wall, is the Unique Youth feeling a bit empty on the inside?




The reason is simple. At the youthful age of twenty one, Zyon is simply untouchable. Hiding under the law of with wisdom an individual can improve in any and all factors. Surrounded day by day by the pressures of greatness, the youth knew that losing wasn’t only part of the business, but it was a certainty. At such a tender age the only difference between winning and losing is the pending breakdown. In Zyon’s case, the breakdown’s existence is voided.




Gingerly, tilting on the chair, tempting fate, Zyon closes his eyes reaching into a past where everything was illusive. Averting the improbable disappointment, the youth reaches back into a timeline where a certain Straight Edger was fighting against the world…alone. Remembering the past just like it was yesterday, Zyon remembers the joyous times of the lone wolf Jenkins. A time where Spike had to be taught that there were people who’s agenda had nothing to do with the man from Hollywood. Hell a time where Spike had to realize that there were people out there willing to be his friend. Then it happened. Out of the smoke of the emotionally scarring battles against Toxxic, Tom Flesher, and even El Luchadore Magnifico, came the birth of team SpYon.




During a period when Spike was unacceptable to friendship, a moment when he was full of innocent paranoia, a distant memory when he was transforming into a good person. The heinous, despicable, Hollywood Superstar was gone. What Zyon got in return was something the world also wanted.


Or was it?


The annoying squeakiness of the chair echoes in the lonely room, as said chair rocks back and forth. Ignoring whatever occurrence may be going on outside his door, the former holder of the cruiserweight and hardcore titles, flashes back to the good times.


“Yeah the good times.”


Single handedly, Zyon a kid from Elkhart was able to change the Hollywood Superstar. Ruled under the wrath of the misguided Toxxic, Spike opened up to the youth quite nicely. Success against the menacing Tom Flesher sure did help though. A union formed under the pact of settling Spike’s agenda continued. Team SpYon was a rare event, but when the show came to pasture, so did success. It was never forced, nor was it a chore. Until this…


“Lethal Lottery.”


A brilliant idea composed by creative that would pit people against others in a tag team tournament of round robin proportions. Asian Underground and SpYon were the favorites because of their history as an actual team.




During the duty that is Lethal Lottery, Zyon reaches back into the recent months where his friend became just another individual. Try as he might, the youth couldn’t stop the battle of ego’s between the two stars. The Clusterfuck and the cruiserweight title added more dissention to their friendship, and in Zyon’s case, his well being. With the finals of the Lethal Lottery coming to a close, losing was no longer acceptable.


“Why couldn’t I have just…”


Questioning his fortitude, Zyon knew he held the match, the titles, and more importantly his friendship with Spike in his hands. And he dropped the ball. For the first time ever, Zyon lost more than a match.


Zyon lost…


Zyon lost…


Zak lost…




Slamming all four legs of the chair back down on the ground, Zyon rises to his feet. Deeply staring into a mirror, his reflection refuses to lie.


“It was his fault.”


Misunderstanding both the definition of a lie and an opinion, the Unique Youth drops the irritation, the pain, and the conscience that a “best friendship” gathers.


“All he had to do was grab the titles and everything would be fine…what a gaylord.”


The youth whispers before looking over at the distant calendar hanging on his wall. Grinning from ear to ear, the youth begins to cook up a plan.


“I can fix things. Soon everything will be back to how it was. No more arguing, bitching, or moaning. I’ll give Spike a title that means much more than a TLC victory. A title that means much more than a belt. And a title that means so much more than a pointless insult. This…This I will not lose at.”


Falling back into a chair, Zyon takes a deep breath, inhaling the positive energies that he created. Without a match, the youth can sit back and watch his friend topple the unorthodox Ghost Machine.


“Go Spike…”

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As SWF Smarkdown returns from commercial, the Astrodome is lit up with house lights, signs and cheering fans. Funyon is already in the ring.


"Ladies and gentlemen," he says as the camera pans onto him, "the following cruiserweight contest is scheduled for one fall, and it will be conducted under standard cruiserweight rules: the count on the outside is twenty, not ten, and throwing an opponent over the top rope is grounds for immediate disqualification. The first competitor…"






As some weird robot song starts to play over the Astrodome's public address system, Suicide King says, "Welcome back to Smarkdown. We've got an exciting one coming up, featuring the number-one contender to the Cruiserweight Championship of the World taking on the man who nonetheless gets the next shot at Akira Kaibatsu, Spike Jenkins! Why? No one's sure, but it probably has something to do with an inept administrator and a bad datebook."


"Regardless," says Axis, "this should be an interesting matchup, if only because of the styles of the competitors. Spike Jenkins, under the influence of a feud with Tom Flesher followed by an extended term under the wing of Toxxic, developed into a terrific strong-style competitor, a solid striker with the ability to make an opponent submit. Ghost Machine, meanwhile… well… let's just say he's strongly reminiscent of another great strong-stylist."


"Of course he is," says King. "He's programmed to integrate styles that he sees."


As Axis and King argue about the origins of Ghost Machine 2.0's style, Chris Belcourt begins his usual, length descent down the ramp. He pushes the hand truck to which the number-one contender is strapped, and Ghost Machine stares blankly out as he does.


"Making his way to the ring," Funyon says, "is the pride of BennerCorp. A reprogrammed and retrofitted version of BennerCorp's most famous hardware, Ghost Machine Version Two is an improvement in almost every way. Having been downsized to around 230 pounds, Ghost Machine's crankcase oil has been drained to bring him to a consistent weight of 229.9 pounds, and he has been streamlined down to 5'11" tall. With that in mind, please welcome the number-one contender to the Cruiserweight Championship of the World, GHOST MACHINE version TWO! POINT! OH!"


The crowd cheers as Chris Belcourt makes it to the ring, unstraps Ghost Machine, and then walks away heavily. Ghost Machine jerkily steps up the stairs and enters the ring, acknowledging Nick Soapdish with a beep and a "PLEASE LOGIN." Soapdish sighs and walks away as Ghost Machine walks to a corner. The weird robot song fades out, and the Astrodome goes quiet.


"AND his opponent…"


Every light in the arena goes to full power as the Smarktron whites out. For a moment the only sound is that of a needle scratching over vinyl...



And then *BAM*


The crashing guitars of Lamb of God's "Black Label" send a bolt through the crowd. The drumming sends a jolt throughout the arena, as the pace of the intro begins to pick up. Finally…




The high-pitched scream of Randy Blythe breaks through the speakers as the bright white lights begin flashing at the entranceway. As the scream hits the crowd, Spike walks out wearing a black hoodie on, the hood covering most of his face. Spike drops down to one knee, leaving one arm to hang to the ground, while the other is firmly placed on his knee. After a few moments, Spike raises both arms into an "X", symbolizing his Straight Edge life style. Spike rises to his feet and begins to make his way down the aisle towards the ring.


"Hailing from Hollywood, California, and weighing in at 220 pounds… this is HOLLYWOOD. SPIKE. JENKINS!!!!!"


Spike makes his way completely around the ring and rolls underneath the bottom rope. He continues rolling until he hits dead center in the middle of the ring. Spike rises to one knee and resumes the position he was in at the top of the entranceway. One arm hanging to the ground, the other placed on his knee. Finally, Spike rises to his feet. He quickly peels off the hood, releasing his blonde, dyed hair free. He puts his arms together, forming an "X" across his chest, again promoting his Straight Edge life style.


"Spike Jenkins has never looked better," says Axis. "He's put on a lot of muscle recently, and despite his loss in the TLC match at From the Fire, he looks to still be in excellent shape."


"Who are you, Bobby Riley?" quips King.


"No, I'm Axis," Axis answers, creating a moment of awkward silence.


"Black Label" fades out, and Spike Jenkins moves into the ring. He stands in the center, watching Ghost Machine and standing in a half amateur-style stance. Ghost Machine makes his way to the middle of the ring, adopting a full Greco-Roman style stance, and Nick Soapdish calls for the bell.






"This one is underway," says Axis, who watches the action closely as Ghost Machine and Jenkins circle around each other in the center of the ring. "These two definitely seem to share a familiarity with each other."


"Bull," says King. "I don't know if you've been following for the past few months, but Ghost Machine Version Two is a rookie, Axis."


Axis merely shrugs. As he does, the camera focuses in on the curtain by the wrestlers' entrance. "Who is that?" Axis asks, as the camera makes it clear: Sean Davis is watching from the back. "If I were Jenkins, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with that."


Ghost Machine lowers his stance, watching Jenkins. Jenkins senses an incoming attack and correspondingly lowers himself, dropping down a bit in order to counter any low leg attack that Ghost Machine might make. In response, the Machine stands back up, then hammers Jenkins on the back of the head with a forearm! As Jenkins reels from the clubbing, Ghost Machine grabs his neck and drags him into a front headlock! This prompts a groan from the crowd.


"The crowd doesn't seem too thrilled with this one," says the mammoth Australian.


"Oh, nice analysis," says King, rolling his eyes. "Listen, all I can tell you is that these hicks don't know what they're watching, and if they don't understand Ghost Machine's plan of attack, they should just give it up and head home."


As Ghost Machine leans on Spike's neck, though, the Long Island native reaches under his own neck and grabs him by the wrist. Quickly, he pivots out, dragging the android's arm past his chin and freeing his neck! He pulls away, then stands upright, free of any entanglement with his robotic foe. What he isn't expecting, though, is Ghost Machine's slamming of a shotei straight into his jaw! Spike reels backwards, but Ghost Machine grabs him by the wrist and whips him to the ropes. Before Jenkins can regain his senses, the Machine drops down to a crouch. As Spike rebounds off the ropes, Version Two springs forward, taking him to the mat with a blast double leg takedown! The crowd applauds as Ghost Machine makes the cover. Before Nick Soapdish can make the count, though, Spike kicks out and rolls to his stomach.


"Ghost Machine 2.0 hits that beautiful blast double," says King, "and Spike goes down to the mat. He kicks out, but it's hard to get over early dominance like this."


Ghost Machine grabs Jenkins by the wrist and pulls him to his feet. Jenkins, despite the shock of the takedown, doesn't appear stunned. The Machine, however, misses that, and attempts an Irish whip. Jenkins plays along, sprinting toward the ropes. As he bounces off, Ghost Machine charges at him and attempts a Yakuza kick! Before he can hit it, though, Jenkins drops to the mat and hits him with a quick and dirty soccer tackle that takes the robot off his feet and to the mat! The crowd applauds as Jenkins uses a move he learned from his former mentor, Toxxic, against the young Ghost Machine. Jenkins rolls through, getting to his feet a moment before Ghost Machine does. He backs up a few steps, and as the android gets up, Jenkins runs toward him. He leaps into the air, hooking the Machine by the head and taking him to the mat with a beautiful Phantom Neckbreaker! The crowd pops as Ghost Machine collapses to the mat, only to have Jenkins quickly roll onto him. Nick Soapdish sees the cover and counts












NO! Ghost Machine gets a shoulder up!


"Brilliant counter on Spike Jenkins' part," says Axis. "That soccer tackle was one of Toxxic's babies, and Spike has been showing so much development due to the time he spent under Toxxic's tutelage, especially against people who Toxxic has defeated in the past."


"I don't know WHAT you're talking about," King says.


Ghost Machine tries to roll out of the ring in order to take advantage of the prolonged count-out rules that come with a cruiserweight match. However, Spike Jenkins sees the escape attempt and grabs his opponent by the boot. He pulls him – all 229.9 pounds of him – back to the center of the ring and drops a knee into his back! Ghost Machine reels from the pain, but curiously, Jenkins opts not to go for the cover. Instead, he takes a step back, watching Ghost carefully.


"That's an odd thing to do," says Axis – always a straightforward athlete.


Ghost Machine slowly tries to push himself up to his feet. However, as soon as he gets to his knees, Jenkins pelts him in the chest with a kick! The Machine winces, but Jenkins follows it up, as always, with another kick to the sternum! Unable to do anything due to the stunning factor of being kicked twice in the power supply, Ghost Machine freezes up, only to have Jenkins take a step back and then practically kick a field goal with his monitor! The fans cheer as Jenkins topples Ghost Machine, sending him crumbling to the mat!


"There's that signature kick combo," says Axis, "and here comes the cover!"


Sure enough, Spike goes for a lateral press, and Nick Soapdish counts














NO!!!! Ghost Machine kicks out!


"Ghost Machine is as well-programmed as an iPod Nano," says Suicide King. "You can hit him as many times as you want, but he's just not going to skip."


Despite King's reassurances, however, Ghost Machine is easy prey for Spike to lift him to his feet. Jenkins grabs him by the wrist, and even though he tries to plant his feet, Ghost Machine quickly finds himself whipped to the ropes. Jenkins smirks as he sees him losing control on the rebound, then quickly pivots and turns his back to his opponent. He spins around, swinging his cocked forearm toward Ghost Machine and looking for the rolling elbow! Ghost Machine, however, sees it coming and hooks the top rope, stopping his sprint into the strike! As Jenkins staggers forward, his strike full of force with nowhere to go, the Machine runs at him and hammers him with a shotei, sending him to his back! The crowd boos, but Ghost Machine takes advantage of a few extra seconds to adjust his airflow controls to a more normal setting.


"Ghost Machine with a quick counter," says Axis, "and Spike may be in trouble."


"That's the understatement of the year," says King. "Geez, where did we get you from?"


"I was a commentator in the SJL for years," Axis says dryly.


"There's a reason we fired you," King sighs.


Ghost Machine sees an opportunity to slow the pace of the match and takes it. Very deliberately, he grabs the stunned Jenkins in a front facelock and lifts him to his feet, then arches through for a vertical suplex. He rolls over onto Jenkins, and Soapdish counts





but no more, as Jenkins quickly kicks out. Ghost Machine holds on to his head, though, and lifts him back to his feet. He lifts Spike into the air, stalling for just a moment before dropping him stomach-first across the top rope! He leaves Jenkins hanging over the top rope for a moment as he plays to the crowd, dancing a few steps of his trademark robot dance!


"Look at this nonsense," says Axis. "I can't believe they buy into this crap."


Regardless of the fact that the crowd isn't actually cheering for him, Ghost Machine seems re-energized as he steps back toward Spike and throws a knee into his face. He then suplexes Jenkins in, rolling over once again for the cover.





TW- Kickout! "Jenkins rolls a shoulder up after Ghost Machine can't even get a two-count," says Axis, "and it's not looking good for BennerCorp."


Nonetheless, the upgraded bending robot keeps his grip on Jenkins' head and rolls to his knees, pulling Spike onto his stomach. He throws a stiff knee strike at Jenkins' head, and the Long Island native convulses with pain! He throws another knee strike, getting the same reaction, and then stands up, pulling Jenkins to his feet as well. With a quick pop of the hips, and before Spike even knows what hit him, the pride of BennerCorp executes a cement mixer and floats over for the cover!











NO! Jenkins kicks out, but doesn't look good. Ghost Machine releases his grip and steps back.


"Beautiful cement mixer by Ghost Machine," says Suicide King. "It's amazing how quickly he's picked up these maneuvers."


As Jenkins starts to get to his feet, Ghost Machine steps in and grabs him around the chest. Spike tries to fight him off, but the droid is simply too strong and quickly locks his hands behind his back. Ghost Machine starts to lift him up for a standing railgun suplex, but the Straightedger quickly hooks a leg around his opponents' thighs, stopping the throw!


"Jenkins with the block!" calls Axis.


Ghost Machine, seeing that his railgun suplex is going nowhere, tries to shake Jenkins loose. Spike feels that coming, and as soon as Version Two unlocks his hands, Jenkins steps back. He immediately kicks a leg behind his opponent and looks for another STO! Ghost Machine, though, is prepared for Jenkins' go-to counter and circles his leg around, executing a picture-perfect judo counter to the maneuver! With Jenkins off balance as he tries to plant the leg used to execute the takedown, Ghost Machine shuffles backwards and drops down to shoot a textbook low single leg takedown that pulls Spike's plant leg out from under him! Jenkins hits his rear end on the mat as Ghost Machine stands up, trying to pull the leg up into a half Boston crab. Jenkins, however, immediately starts scooting toward the side, and before Ghost can flip him into a pretzel hold, he grabs the bottom strand! Soapdish counts










Finally, Ghost Machine releases the hold, allowing Jenkins to roll out onto the apron to collect himself.


"Smart move by Jenkins," Axis says, "taking a moment to breathe and collect his thoughts."


Ghost Machine stays near the ropes, watching Jenkins and trying to cut off any possible element of surprise he might have. As Jenkins tries to step back into the ring, the android grabs his wrist and starts to whip him to the ropes. Spike counters by holding on to the middle rope and quickly hitting a shotei to the jaw. Reeling, Ghost Machine steps back, but Jenkins grabs him around the hips and hoists him into the air. After holding him for a moment, Jenkins drops to his knees, sending Ghost Machine neck-first over the top rope with a Hot Shot! The crowd cheers as Ghost Machine bounces off the cable, then falls backwards onto the mat!


"Jenkins shows true ring awareness," Axis says, "and catches Ghost Machine off-guard."


"Sure," says Suicide King, "but is he going to be able to capitalize?"


Sure enough, Spike drops down onto the robot and makes the cover. Nick Soapdish counts













THR- NO! Ghost Machine kicks out, and despite a halfhearted attempt by Jenkins to keep him on his back, he powerfully rolls to his stomach. With a smirk, Jenkins thrusts his head under Ghost Machine's left arm, prompting a cheer from the crowd!


"SPIKE JENKINS FAKED GHOST MACHINE OUT!" bellows Axis. "He let him roll through, and now he's going to pull him into the Strong Island Stretch!"


Sure enough, Jenkins immediately snakes an arm under Ghost Machine's head. However, the Machine quickly rocks onto one hip and sits out, at the same time clamping down with his left arm and tying Jenkins up into a makeshift side headlock! Before Spike knows what's happening, the robot tightens the headlock and pulls him over, with the man from Hollywood finding himself on his back! Soapdish counts














NO! Jenkins rolls through onto his side, then quickly kicks a leg up. Deftly, he pulls Ghost Machine down with a tight headscissors, freeing himself from the headlock and trying to take control of the match. Unfortunately for Jenkins, Ghost Machine is strong enough to break the scissors and spin out to the front. As he stands up, Jenkins realizes he doesn't want to get caught on his knees and scoots back a few feet. As he stands, Ghost Machine grabs at his head and tries to pull him into a front headlock. However, he finds himself overextended, and Jenkins is able to pull back. As Ghost Machine compensates, Jenkins lies in wait for him and attempts to pull him to the mat with an STO!


"Not the brightest thing in the world for Spike to do," chuckles King, as Ghost Machine merely repeats his counter from earlier in the match, circling his leg out of the way. Jenkins, though, smirks and quickly drops to his knees, pulling Ghost Machine down with him and sending his shoulder up into the android's jaw! Ghost Machine pops up, then collapses to the mat, convulsing with pain!


"Minor Threat!" shouts Axis, allowing himself to become uncharacteristically excited by the counter. "Spike Jenkins baited Ghost Machine straight into the Minor Threat, and now we're going to see if he can capitalize!


Spike goes for the cover, and Soapdish counts

















NO! Ghost Machine rolls a shoulder up, though he's very clearly stunned. He rolls to his stomach, and Spike, very aware of what's going on in the match, takes a few steps back. As Ghost Machine gets to one knee, Jenkins sprints at him and springs off his cocked thigh, hammering him in the back of the head with the Dangerous Wizard! The crowd is on its feet!


"This could be it!" says Axis, as Spike Jenkins walks toward the ringpost. With a determined air about him, Jenkins gets to the top rope and throws his arms into the air, glowering at Ghost Machine!


"I KNOW!" he bellows, bringing a cheer from the crowd! "COME ON, GET UP SO I CAN FINISH YOU OFF!"


Ghost Machine starts to slowly stand up, but finds it more difficult than he expected and flops back down onto the mat. However, with the help of the ropes, he's able to pull himself to his feet just in time for Jenkins to launch himself off the top rope, knee cocked for the Super Ego Trip! Out of the corner of his monitor, Ghost Machine sees him jump and quickly falls to the mat, avoiding the diving knee strike and sending Jenkins to the canvas on his cocked knee! The crowd groans with disappointment as Ghost Machine pulls himself back to his feet and Jenkins stays on the mat, in obvious pain!


"What a tough break for Jenkins," says King sarcastically. "Too bad the kid couldn't QUITE hit his move."


Ghost Machine stands off to the side. Because Jenkins is slow to get up, Ghost Machine takes every second he possibly can to recuperate from the attacks he's taken all match.


"All it takes is one mistake," says the Suicide King, "and Spike made one. A logical attacker like Ghost Machine isn't going to let that go."


In the back, Sean Davis looks on, his steely gaze unmoved by Jenkins' failure to hit the Super Ego Trip. However, as the Hollywood transplant starts to get up, Ghost Machine charges at him. He springs off Jenkins' bent good knee and hammers him with a Yakuza kick, sending him to the mat! He makes the cover, hooking the bad knee as Nick Soapdish makes the count.












THR- NO! "Somehow," says Axis, "Spike Jenkins found the strength to kick out, even with that bad leg. Though he took a serious fall on it, perhaps it isn't as badly injured as it first appeared. After all, Spike HAS been playing opossum all night and luring Ghost Machine into traps."


The pain on Jenkins' face is clear, though. Even as the android backs away, Spike is slow to get up. He once again tries to push his way to his feet, but can't quite make it. He pauses on one knee, only to have Ghost Machine kick his supporting leg out from under him! The fans boo as Spike collapses back to the mat, clearly hurting from the attack. Nonetheless, Ghost Machine doesn't get too close. He knows that he's let himself get caught twice tonight already, and that what Suicide King said is true: it only takes one mistake to end the match. He's living on borrowed time.


Once again, Spike starts to his feet, this time using the middle rope to help him gain his balance back. Ghost Machine hammers him with a stiff kick to the bad knee, and then, with a deep intake of clean air through his filter, he grabs Spike's leg. He dives forward, pulling the leg with him and snapping the hamstring! As he releases it, Spike convulses, in obvious pain! Confident that he can end the match, Ghost Machine rolls to his feet and again grabs Jenkins' ankle.


"Here we go," beams King. "It looks like we're going to see a figure-four leglock! I'd like to see Jenkins withstand THAT one."


Ghost Machine applies the spinning toehold, but before he can bar the left leg, Jenkins grabs his mask and pulls him to the mat, tying him up in a small package! The fans burst into cheers as Nick Soapdish makes the count!


















NO! Soapdish waves off the fall, pointing to Ghost Machine's arm grasping the bottom cable! The crowd groans with disappointment at seeing Jenkins robbed of a win.


"Jenkins has been incredibly aware throughout this match," says Axis, "but as the pain overtakes him, he's paying less and less attention to the things he needs to watch. There, he may well have cost himself the match, and at the very least he neutralized a mistake by Ghost Machine with one of his own."


Ghost Machine stands up, trying to control the adrenaline rush that comes with a near-fall. He sees, however, that the dejected Jenkins can barely get to his knees, much less his feet. Cunningly – or, at least, as cunningly as a robot can – he steps around Jenkins. As Spike looks over, Ghost Machine throws a spot-on dropkick that nails him flush in the face, sending him back to the mat in a haze.


"Odd," shrugs Suicide King. "Usually, his dropkicks are pretty sloppy."


Looking almost self-satisfied, Ghost Machine then reaches down, crossing Jenkins' legs. With the legs tied up, the droid takes several steps back, pausing in the center of the ring to make sure that nothing can go wrong.


"He's got Jenkins' legs crossed," says the Suicide King, "so he can't get caught in that small package again, and he's in the center, so there's nowhere to go. God, I love this robot."


Without another thought, Ghost Machine steps over Jenkins' hips, forcing him to his stomach, and then sitting back into the classic Texas cloverleaf! "And there's the cloverleaf," says Axis, "better known here as the Superior Stretch."


"Damn right it is," says King, "and this android has certainly assimilated it!"


Spike looks around, grimacing in pain for a few seconds. He starts to try to free himself, but sighs deeply. As Nick Soapdish drops to one knee, Spike quickly, anticlimactically taps the mat.




Soapdish calls for the bell.






As Jenkins finishes tapping out, his face sour with disgust, Ghost Machine stands up and throws his arms into the air, releasing Jenkins from the hold. Nick Soapdish grabs a wrist and raises the arm, signaling to Funyon to make an announcement. Meanwhile, on the outside, Sean Davis nods and ducks back behind the velvet curtain.


"Your winner," says Funyon, "the number-one contender to the Cruiserweight Championship… GHOST MACHINE VERSION TWO POINT OH!!!!!"


"Spike Jenkins taps out to the Superior Stretch," says Axis, "but it's hard to fault his motives. He's going to be taking on Akira Kaibatsu, the Cruiserweight Champion, as soon as Kaibatsu comes off an injury. Jenkins can't afford to level the playing field that way. He tapped out to fight another day."


Frustrated nonetheless, Jenkins rolls out of the ring as Ghost Machine begins his standard round of the robot, celebrating another win.


"At least he can still walk," says Axis.


"Say what you will," says the Suicide King. "Spike Jenkins may be trying to protect himself this time around, but all this shows me is that Ghost Machine Version Two is going to have the advantage coming in when he gets the winner of Kaibatsu-Jenkins, whoever the chump may be."


"I believe you mean champ," says Axis dryly.


"You heard me."


The camera focuses on Ghost Machine's mad leet dancing skillz as the picture fades to commercial.

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“Welcome back to Smarkdown,” Axis roars, “I’m Axis!”


“And I have a distinct personality,” King cuts in.


“We’re back live in the Astrodome in Houston, Texas,” the Australian play-by-play man continues, “and coming up next we have-”


Well, we’ll never find out what Axis thought was coming up next, because he gets cut off by the crashing opening of ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ by the Ramones, and Amy Stephens makes her way out onto the soundstage!


“Oh great,” King mutters, “she doesn’t even have a match and she still comes out here to murder the English language!”


Amy makes her way down the ramp, her can of Stella Artois in her hand, then slides under the bottom rope and makes her way over to Funyon. The veteran ring announcer relinquishes his microphone and Amy takes a swig of her lager while she waits for the music to die down.




“INNIT!” the crowd shout, startling Amy slightly as they complete the sentence for her. The Punk-Rock Princess shrugs and continues after second, taking another swig of lager beforehand.


“What it is, right, is I was in a match to get a shot at the Cruiserweight Title on From The Fire, and I lost. Thing is I ain’t stoppin’ there, ya get me? I thought I was gonna go and have a shot at the Tag Titles, but then Bruce went and booked himself in matches all the way from here to Battleground, so not only are we not gonna be able to get a title shot before then, we ain’t even gonna be able to qualify for a title shot at Battleground! So you know what, right? Fuck him!”


“Oh God, I hope not,” King interjects.


“I thought we had something pretty good goin’ as Drunk & Disorderly,” Amy continues, “but he’s gone and shot that dahn, so far as I’m concerned he’s fair game, right? So what I’m saying is, right, is that I wanna crack at Bruce and his bloody Ultraviolent Title as soon as fuckin’ possible…”


Amy pauses for a second to take a breath, and in that moment the crowd realises what’s about to come next and sings along with her…




“I don’t believe it,” King mutters, putting his head in his hands, “they’ve been corrupted. This girl has Americans speaking Nottinghamese! On the upside,” he brightens, raising his head, “at least she doesn’t go on like her brother.” The Gambling Man turns and looks at his announce partner. “You’ve been very quiet.”


“Yes, I have. I’ve been away a long time. I have no idea who anyone is.”


“Right. Let’s go to commercials then before Amy decides to speak again.”






Edited by chirs3

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The capacity crowd in the Astrodome roars as the Smarkdown theme blasts through the speakers. Axis and Suicide King sit at the announce table, ready to take over as the theme dies down.


“Welcome back to SWF Smarkdown! I’m Axis, and sitting beside me is the Suicide King, who is in dire need of a PepsiMAX! PepsiMAX, the one-size-fits-all cola!”


King groans, “As few and far between as they are, this is one of those times I hate Joseph Peters!”


“Up next, a twisted rematch from SWF Frost, Insane Luchador and Jimmy the Doom team up against Sean ‘The Perfect Storm’ Davis and JJ Johnson.”


“Sean Davis and JJ Johnson are both former acolytes of Revolution Zero, under Toxxic,” comments King. “Though they never worked together due to Sean’s ankle injury, I’m sure they’ll have perfect harmony in the ring.”


The cameras focus on the stage, where the Smarktron movie changes, playing clips of Insane Luchador as “Man in the Box” by Alice in Chains kicks up over the speakers. The crowd erupts into cheers as a burst of pyro lights the stage and the psychotic wrestler steps out from behind the curtain. He pauses at the top of the ramp, soaking in the cheers before sprinting down the ramp, sticking his arm out to slap fans’ hands along the way.


“Ladies and gentlemen! The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall! Entering first, from Easton, Pennsylvania, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-one pounds.. INSAAAAAAAAAANE LUCHADOOOOOOOR!!!”


As IL enters the ring, the music changes from “Man in the Box” to “Yakety Sax” and six druids rush to line the ramp, quickly chanting.




Jimmy and Lois step out to a mixed reaction from the crowd. Jimmy heads to the ring, shaking his head at the lazy druids, while Lois lands a slap on each one of their cheeks.


Idiot! Idiot!


Jimmy enters the ring and Lois takes her place at ringside.


“And his partner, from Doomtopia, accompanied by LOIS! THE! UNETHICAL!.. JIMMY! THE! DOOOOOMM!!”


The speakers are quiet for a second and the lights dim. A storm siren sounds and the crowd begins to boo loudly as a streak of pyro flashes toward the stage, erupting into a burst of red and gold sparkles. “Battle Ready” by Otep overtakes the speakers and Sean Davis steps out, heading toward the stage.


“Their opponents, first, from Jacksonville, Florida, weighing in at two hundred and eighty-five pounds.. SEEEEAN ‘THE PERFECT STORM’ DAAAAAAAAAVIS!!”




Sean’s anthem fades from the speakers as he slowly enters the ring. “Blood and Thunder” by Mastodon overcomes the speakers, accompanied by smoke billowing from the stage. JJ Johnson enters from behind the curtains and is immediately hit with a wave of jeers from the Houston crowd.


“His partner, from Windsor, Ontario, Canada.. augh!” Funyon is cut off as Sean bursts past him, dropping Jimmy with a clothesline and turning on IL with a quick series of right hands!


King squeals, “Sean’s jumped the gun on this match!”


The ref quickly signals for the bell as JJ sprints toward the ring, sliding in and dropkicking Jimmy as he stands!


“Busaiku Knee Kick from JJ Johnson,” says Axis.


*** DING *** DING *** DING ***


Sean has IL pinned against the ropes, just hammering away at the luchador. The Perfect Storm leans back and clotheslines IL over the top rope, sending him tumbling to the floor! Davis turns to JJ and Jimmy, and as Jimmy begins to fight back, Sean roars up from behind, landing a hard forearm across the Doom’s back. Jimmy drops to a knee, and Sean helps him up and motions JJ back.. then whips Jimmy toward Johnson, who hauls off and knocks Jimmy senseless with a Yakuza kick!


“JJ Johnson and Sean Davis working as a team, just as I suspected!” exclaims King!


The referee finally gains some semblance of control in the ring, and ushers JJ to his corner. Davis and Jimmy are left in the ring, Jimmy reeling from the double team attack. Sean grabs Jimmy by the hair and lifts him to his feet, landing a series of hard rights and driving him into the ropes. Sean whips Jimmy across the ring and awaits his return, but is denied as Jimmy hangs onto the top rope. Sean zeroes in on his opponent, but a beaten Jimmy dances around the Perfect Storm and quickly tags in his partner!


“Insane Luchador makes his first legal appearance of the night.. and walks into a thunderous right hand from Sean Davis,” comments Axis.


IL picks himself up from the mat and meets another right hand. Sean grabs up IL in a Fireman’s carry and before he can wiggle free, Sean drops IL back-first over his knee!




The crowd reacts, feeling IL’s pain as he arches his back. Sean is quick to take advantage, stomping at IL’s back. The ref moves in and attempts to regain control, but only gives Rickmen the opportunity to stand. Davis quickly reaches in and grabs Rickmen by the throat, hefting him off the mat. IL squirms to escape Sean’s grasp, but alas, cannot.




The massive Davis’ chokeslam is indeed a powerful one, and the Insane Luchador can only cringe and grab at his back as his body whiplashes off of the center of the ring. Davis is quite happy to see that his move has proven effective in doing more damage to an already plenty damaged body part. With his opponent sufficiently taken care of, Davis turns his attention to his partner, striding across the ring to make the tag… as IL kips up, grabbing at his back but grinning and bearing it because by Gumby, he’s a tough dude! Before the Perfect Storm can make it to his corner, IL sprints to the opposite corner, ducking under an arm before leaping to the top rope, turning and grabbing Davis’ head as he swings around to kick Johnson in the face before driving the mammoth Floridian into the mat with a DDT!






Unfortunately for the Insane One, Johnson has far quicker reflexes than those of his partner, and sees IL’s attack coming far before Davis does, ducking under the attempt to knock him off the apron; following that, in the mere instants before the Perfect Storm receives a bally good pulverizing via tornado DDT, Johnson shoots his arm out and makes himself the legal man.


“And Johnson makes the tag anyway,” gloats King, “because he’s faster and smarter than some silly dropkick.”


“I wouldn’t call the dropkick silly; it was definitely a good attempt to keep a very dangerous man out of the match,” notes Axis as King starts to nod off at the mere sound of the boring Aussie’s voice.


IL is on the move again, though, springing up to his feet once more and charging the former cruiserweight champion, looking for a clothesline.. but Johnson has other plans, ducking the clothesline before spinning in his crouched position and driving a rolling elbow into the back of the man from Easton! The pain from the chokeslam comes rushing back to join this new pain, and the blow is enough to stop Rickmen in his tracks, providing enough time for Johnson to sneak a head under the arm of the Insane One and lift him up..


“Dangerous backdroooop..” says King pre-emptively..


..but it is not to be, IL falling back off of Johnson and landing in a tripod stance before diving forward, driving his shoulder into the back of the Canadian’s knee with a patella-punishing chop block! Johnson’s eyes bulge in mild agony (which is much like jumbo shrimp or Blackhawks game), and his attention is sufficiently diverted to the point that the Insane Luchador can roll to his feet, wince and grab at his back, and then dive towards his corner, reaching out..





..and blessing his partner’s 6’5” frame as his hand and that of Jimmy’s connect to make the tag! The man from Doomtopia immediately rushes in and delivers a brutal Hand of Doom..




..straight to the throat of the Canadian, who reacts in an unkindly manner as the Straight-Bread Sensation reaches out and clasps on a Head Vice, Johnson’s skull making a brutal sound as Jimmy’s fingertips collide with his cranium!




Johnson.. doesn’t do anything really; the Head Vice doesn’t actually hurt. Instead, he takes it as time to rest.. before exploding upwards, turning his body so that he has Jimmy in prime saito suplex position as he bridges back and dumps the Doomtopian on his neck!




“Saito suplex,” drones Axis, “a very effective suplex indeed due to the position in which your opponent lands.”


“Yes, Axis, that’s the point,” sighs King.


And it’s even more effective when you bridge, which is exactly what Johnson does, holding Jimmy in place as the tall man folds rather comically upon impact.





TW-But Jimmy is tougher than that, his Rollie Fingers mustache quivering with rage as he thrusts out of the pin. Johnson is on his feet to meet him as Jimmy rises, and launches an elbow smash-




-that collides hard with Jimmy’s bald chin, staggering the straight-breader…but not enough to prevent him from taking a step back and launching a Yak Kick!




That sails right over Johnson’s head as the Canadian rolls under before bouncing to his feet and taking to the air, whipping his leg around for an enzuigiri!




That Jimmy ducks, dropping out of his crane stance and lowering his head before jogging to the ropes, rebounding as Johnson rises, and takes to the air with his flying front kick!




That once again misses as it is Johnson’s turn to duck, and also his turn to sprint to the ropes, the Canadian hitting the strands hard before SCREAMING back across the ring and launching himself into the air with a jaw-shattering Dynamic Kick!




That finds it’s mark, Jimmy crumpling under the blow as he throws his arms into the air..




..and, recognizing his partner is in trouble, IL swats one before hoisting himself over the ropes!




And gets demolished with an elbow that catches him right in the orbital bone and sends him tumbling through the ropes to the outside!


“JJ Johnson is just cleaning house here, ladies and gentlemen,” notes Axis. “Had he been this inspired earlier, the match might be over already.”


“I have to agree with you, Axis,” says King, “JJ has kicked it into high gear, although I don’t know why; perhaps because he and IL go way back, and he’s trying to finish the job.”


“One could say he’s finished the job already,” notes Axis, “considering Johnson was the last man IL faced before he died.”


“He did what?” asks King.


“Exactly,” says Axis.


“No, really. What?”


IL collects himself rather swiftly, and stumbles up to his feet, dusting himself off. Jimmy has joined him on the outside, flailing his arms about in a manner reminiscent of Matt Myers’ pimp walk as the Insane One stares on in crude fascination before looking back into the ring.. and seeing Sean Davis standing there, looking over them. Both men are confused, and look at each other simultaneously before turning back to the massive man.. and the Canadian that catapults himself over the Perfect Storm, spiraling through the air before coming down HARD with an elbow that absolutely demolishes the skull of the Insane Luchador, with Jimmy not ending up much better as he takes a brutal knee to the skull!


“That was quite impressive,” says Axis.


“QUITE IMPRESSIVE?!” says King, incredulous, “that was fucking incredible! Do you react to ANYTHING?!”


“I reacted to your mother,” responds the Aussie. Then, “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”


King groans as the ref slides over in order to escort Sean back to the apron as Johnson sits up, shaking his head and looking not as bad for wear as he would have had IL and Jimmy been cognizant enough of their situation to move. Jimmy and IL do not have the same benefit, obviously. IL drags himself up to a seated position first, attempting to shake a shitload of cobwebs out of his head, slapping at his skull. Jimmy sits up and makes a different attempt; this one, shadow puppets.


“Ha! A cat!” says King.


As Jimmy proudly shows off his handiwork to Lois, Johnson gets to his feet and, with a mighty yank, tugs IL to his feet before cracking him with yet another elbow and sliding him into the ring. IL pops up, turns for a clothesline.. and Johnson ducks under before bridging back..






..and folding him in half with a backdrop driver! Johnson bridges!












“Yay!” says King.


“I don’t have a personality,” frowns Axis.


*** DING *** DING *** DING ***


"You have PepsiMAX, Axis."


“JJ and Davis win, let’s get this show on the road,” says Funyon exasperatedly as “Blood and Thunder” hits, the crowd rather displeased and confused.





Edited by chirs3

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"Well, you sure told them," Landon Maddix says, stretching back in his deckchair. Why does he have a deckchair in his dressing room? It's anyone's guess. Maybe he's been carting it with him since he took the piss out of Wildchild in 2004.


"Damn right," Amy Stephens grunts, "I ain't bloody taking this shit anymore, ya get me?" The Punk-Rock Princess takes a swig from her can of lager and belches, although in deference to Landon's sensibilities she does it behind her hand. "That Ghost Machine won on a bloody fluke an' I still reckon I deserve a title shot, an' if Peters don't give me one, I'll go an' 'ave words. He ain't keeping me away from a bigger paycheck jus' cos I'm a girl."


Landon just looks at her for a second, marvelling partially how similar and yet how different she is to her brother. Toxxic was like a volcano, with his anger constantly bubbling under a stony surface; most of the time he presented a reasonably serene facade, but every now and then it would give way to an explosion that generally resulted in serious injury and a retirement or two. Amy, on the other hand, is much more like a forest fire; wild, unpredictable and difficult to control, but with no secrets about its nature. Whatever Amy's current mood was, you knew about it. So did everyone within a couple of blocks, for that matter.


"I don't suppose you've heard-"


"-from Mike?" Amy cuts him off, "Landon, I told you I dunno how many times, if he rings me, I'll tell yer. If he texts me, I'll tell yer. If he turns up naked on the bloody doorstep painted red with a ferret shoved up his arse, I'll-"


"Blame Janus?"


"...you what?" Amy asks, her train of thought momentarily derailed.


"Never mind," Landon mutters, not wanting to discuss the odd tastes of the SWF's monstrous new Head of Security (or think about him for that matter, in the aftermath of the Ced Ordonez incident). "But hey, at least Peters didn't put you in that stupid Calvinball match. I mean, that would have been an insult. I can't remember seeing Austin Sly again after the last one... although that might have been for different reasons," La Cucaracha admits.


"I'm tellin' you Landon, there's been some crazy shit going on here," Amy says with feeling, "I mean, didja see that tall girl in the weasel costume walkin' around San Quentin? She's got issues."


"Don't talk about Ebony," Landon grimaces, closing his eyes, "don't talk to me about her ever again."


"Right..." Amy says, casting a glance at her... well... "yeah actually Landon, what the fuck are you?"


"Excuse me?" Maddix says, opening his eyes and looking at her in confusion.


"I mean, are you like my 'boyfriend' or what?" the junior Stephens asks, "or are we just havin' a good time an' waitin' for my bruvver to show up?"


"Err..." the question has clearly caught Landon off-guard, but he rallies with "well... yeah. Yeah, I guess so. I mean," he laughs, "it's not like I'm seeing anyone else!"


"Nah, me neither," Amy says, taking a swig of beer before leaning over to plant a kiss on Landon's cheek, "well, that's that sorted then."


"So... what were you talking to Hojo about at From The Fire?"


Landon's delivery is casual, almost nonchalant. At least, it's meant to be. However this is Landon, and his grasp on the finer points of inter-person communication is about as secure as Bruce Blank's grip on the finer points of flower arranging. Amy just looks at him.


"An' whassat s'posed to mean?"


"Hey, just asking," Landon says, trying to back and fill, "you know, you were in a pretty deep conversation with him and everything... just wondered what you were talking about."


"We were just talkin'," Amy shrugs, still not entirely convinced of Landon's motives for asking. "He's quite a nice bloke really; talks like a ponce though, innit. He was sayin' that he's part of this big company or somefing, an' they might be able to help me find Mike, ya get me? Reminds me, I'd better give 'im that picture of Mike after he cut all his hair off, he said they'd need it..."


At this point a student of the federation's history might start to have misgivings. They might point out to Amy that in the SWF a Japanese man who claims to be part of a large 'company', especially when in the company of Janus, could have connections to the group known as The Clan. They might inform her that the attention of this mysterious, shadowy cult is not something most sensible people would wish to attract. They might even remark that the notion of altruism is not one normally associated with them, and that it might be wise to examine Hiroshi Hojo's offer for a deeper meaning or intention. Her brother Toxxic could have told her all this; after all, he was watching the fed on his old black-and-white TV in his bedroom in Nottingham years before he ended up facing down two of The Clan's most famous former members, and even if not privy to the internal details he picked up the same information as all other SWF fans did at the time.


However, Toxxic isn't here. That's sort of the point. The person that is here is Landon Maddix, and he knows dick about The Clan because The Clan have never had anything to do with Landon Maddix, and Amy never started watching the SWF until her brother was competing in it.


"You ain't gettin' jealous are yer, Landon?"


"What? No!" Landon denies vehemently. He holds up his hands placatingly. "Look, if you say you were just talking then you were just talking. That's fine."


"Here, you din't say nothing to him, right?" Amy asks, suddenly suspicious, "cos he weren't there when I came out me dressing room again."


"Well... we had a quick conversation," Landon says uneasily. And I pushed him over as well, but I don't think I'll tell you that. "He seemed in a hurry to get off. Probably had security-ish things to do."


"Yeah... prob'ly," Amy agrees, settling back and taking a final chug of lager before crumpling the can in one hand and throwing it over her shoulder. It goes in the trashcan, although probably more by luck than judgement.


"Now... you ain't finished explaining this basketball malarky to me. Why can't you 'ead the bloody thing?"

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After a rather boring and bland 3 minute block of commercials the viewers finally stop flipping the channels because SWF Smarkdown is back to give you a reason to put down the remote and enjoy some quality programming. The sight of a totally sold out and jam packed to the rafters Houston Astrodome is quite impressive. then again the huge 474 foot long scoreboard that’s been reassembled and raised 25 feet over the outfield by four sturdy metallic skeleton towers is also a very, very impressive sight – on that’s been hard to ignore through out the evening but now it’s time to focus on it.


“Welcome back to Smarkdown and you’re just in time to see someone go flying into the dirt” King says


“It’s a match that’ll hit you harder than the refreshing goodness of PepsiMax!” Axis says in that distinctive Australian accent of his.


“The following match is for the SWF Ultraviolent Title and it is contested under HOUSE RULES-ULES-ULES!” Funyon says as his voice comes out all scratchy and not it’s normal masculine self over the stadium speaker system.p




“They cheer for House Rules?” King asks “Man they must be desperate for entertainment in Texas”


“To win the Scoreboard Shuffle you must throw your opponent off the Scoreboard and all the way to the ground. Introducing first the challenger, the former SWF International champion… AAAAAAAAAAAAARCH GRIFFOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNN!!”


Unearth’s “Bloodlust of the Human Condition” begins to play over the PA system, or at least we think it is cause the echo and feedback from the speaker system makes it really hard to make out exactly what’s playing. Griffon doesn’t seem to care though as he just steps up from the home team dug out and heads straight for the giant erection with a “strictly business” expression on his face.


“Very rarely has Bruce faced someone who’s actually bigger and may even be more powerful than himself, Arch is one of the very select few who fit into that category” Axis says providing the razor sharp insight for the fans tonight.


The big man keeps his eyes fixed on the scoreboard as he heads towards it but he does allow himself to stop once and make a “belt” motion before climbing up one of the towers.


“Bruce’s title reign could very well come to an end tonight, a very steep 25 foot drop end at that” King says in a tone that doesn’t reveal if he’s rooting for or against that.


“AAAAAAAAAAND his opponent-ent-ant! The reigning SWF Ultraviolent champioooooooooon BRUUUUUUUUUUUUCEEEEE BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!-ANGK-ANGK!!” Funyon says and then leaves the ring.


The opening guitar segment of “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” begins to play but either the sound system is fucked or the echoing tones starts something but the music turns into a loud screeching sound instead of Green Day.


“Man Green Day have never sounded better” King quips.


Then the music is thankfully cut off and the fans can uncover their ears again. Bruce steps out from the visiting team dugout, Ultraviolent title strapped around his ample waist and with the Eliminator held high above his head.




If Bruce was pissed that his music was cut off he’s even more pissed when he hears the traditional ball park organ begin to play “Baby Elephant Walk” to accompany him on his way to the platform.


“Oh come on! He may be big but he’s no elephant” King complains


“Baby Elephant King, those wee nippers probably weigh about the same as Bruce or Arch” Axis replies.


Bruce stops at the bottom of one of the towers that keeps the scoreboard up and just stares up at the giant construction 25 feet up in the air. After taking a deep breath Bruce unsnaps the Ultraviolent title and hands it to the referee before he begins to climb up towards the scoreboard


“PLAY BALL!!” Axis yells out getting into the baseball setting.


“Oh brother”


Bruce slowly climbs up the steel construct, mainly slowed down because he’s trying to climb up while holding on to the Eliminator hoping to use it against Arch Griffon like he did against the Renegade.


“He’s no mountaineer is he now?” King says to fill the lull in the action as Bruce climbs up


“No he is not, but some could call him the Home Run King” Axis says




“Well look at him, he’s quite a slugger.” Axis adds revealing that he’s been studying the Idiot’s Guide to baseball.


Bruce finally reaches the top but Arch is blocking his path and preventing him from climbing up over the edge and onto the actual scoreboard itself. Every time Bruce tries to get up over the edge Arch kicks at him or tries to stomp on his hands to keep Bruce in a vulnerable position.


“Oh come on Arch at least let him up!” King moans as Griffon keeps kicking and stomping away at Bruce’s hands and arms.


“This is unbelievable ladies and gentlemen Griffon is trying to pitch a no-hitter here tonight and take the pennant without Bruce getting a chance to earn a run”


“Okay that’s REALLY annoying” King explodes


Bruce swings the Eliminator round to try and catch Griffon with the nine inch nails but 310 pound mountain of a man counters by kicking the 2 by 4 out of Bruce’s hand sending it to the ground some 25 feet below






King’s comment are more groans than words.


With his weapon kicked away Bruce is in serious trouble, Arch won’t let him up and if he loses his grip and falls his title reign will end without him getting a single shot in at his opponent. Since he needs a moment to regroup he climbs a few steps down to get out of Arch’s reach.


“I never liked Arch you know?” King says and then mumbles “Freaking nerd”


“This is indeed a clash of the titans! Bruce is undefeated when he’s taken the mound for an Ultraviolent battle, he’s had to go 10-12 innings at times but at the end he’s taken the “Dubaya” 12 times”


“What I wouldn’t give for a baseball bat right now!”


In desperation Bruce reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a green can of Skoal and quickly stuffs some of it in his mouth as he does his best to cling onto the tower. A few chews later and Bruce seems to be ready to climb up once more. Once he reaches the edge he flips Arch off and starts to climb up over the edge.


The moment Arch approaches to kick at Bruce he pulls himself forward as much as he can and spits the entire contents of his mouth into Arch’s eyes




“FOUL!! FOUL BALL!! He just spit that nasty brown stuff in Arch’s face” Axis says


“Looks like the farm boy from Iowa doesn’t appreciate a bit of chewin’ tabacci" King says as he laughs.


The mixture of saliva, tobacco juices and Skoal blinds Arch momentarily giving Bruce a chance to finally climb up onto the giant scoreboard. Bruce looks out at the crowd and for a moment staggers as if he didn’t realize how high up he was until that moment. Then he steadies himself and focuses on Arch who’s getting the last of the tobacco juice out of his eyes.


“They should outlaw chewing tobacco!” Axis says while sounding queasy


“Yeah try and tell a dome full of Texans to give up their chew, you’ll be lynched in 3 seconds flat” King replies.


Once he’s made sure he’s far enough away from the edge Bruce raises his hands in the air with a confident smirk. For a moment Arch just stands there with his hands on his hips and just looks at Bruce.


“Last time these two monsters met there wasn’t a clear cut winner in their test of strength, it seems that Bruce wants to settle it once and for all.” King surmises.


Arch finally just shrugs his shoulders and accepts the test of strength. Neither Bruce nor Arch takes their eyes off the other as they begin to lock fingers together to determine who’s the more powerful of the two. Once the fingers are locked both men begin to pour the power on, biceps bulging as they jockey for position.


“No one seems to have the advantage here!” King says.


“It’s still the first inning King, it’s early days mate”


With no clear winner of the initial lock up both wrestlers take a half step forward, going chest to chest as their arms shake under the pressure. Arch might be the heavier but Bruce has the leverage of being a bit taller and the end result is that neither really has the advantage in the early goings of the match.


“I can’t believe they’re THIS evenly matched” Axis says as the two titans struggle for supremacy.


“These guys live and die by their power and usually it’s not a problem when they run into weaker opponents – but tonight they’re on a level playing field.” King adds.


Bruce isn’t happy with the stale mate and tries to drive his knee into Arch’s mid section to gain the advantage. It may have worked in their tag-team encounter a few weeks ago but Arch is too clever to fall for it again and narrowly avoids it. With Bruce off balance Griffon quickly ups the pressure and gets Bruce’s hands forced backwards giving the challenger the advantage.




“He may look like a bit dumb brute but Arch is on the ball!”


“Don’t count him out just yet, it’s just a test of strength” King says dismissing the significance.


Bruce’s face tells a clear story of desperation as Arch gets the favorable position and begins to push Bruce’s hands down towards the scoreboard. Griffon allows himself a rare smile as he is about to force Bruce down onto his knees but the smile is quickly wiped off his face as Bruce throws his head forward




And strikes Arch on the bridge of his nose with a stiff headbutt. Griffon staggers backwards but doesn’t release his grip on Bruce’s hands, but due to the cheap ploy Bruce is able to gain the upper hand and is now twisting Arch’s hands backwards to get the big man under control. Not being one to take a cheap shot freely Arch quickly replies Bruce in kind before the champion can press his advantage.




Arch’s forehead strikes Bruce on the side of the nose, then he rears back once more and strikes Bruce a second time with a stiff headbutt




And a third one that causes Bruce’s nose to start bleeding profusely. After 3 headbutts Bruce is driven to his knees and Arch can push the Ultraviolent champion’s hands down onto the lights of the scoreboard.




“Man those lights have been on all night they must be extremely hot by now” Axis says as Bruce yells out in pain and surprise.


“Can you imagine Wildchild up there? Bare feet and all?” King says as he plays that mental image and kinda likes it.


The burns to Bruce’s hands are not as severe as they could have been since Bruce tapes his hands before every match but there was enough skin on lightbulb contact to make it painful for the Ultraviolent champion and that’s all the fans in the dome care about. With Bruce on his knees Arch is in a perfect position to let loose with a series of stiff forearm blows to the back of Bruce’s neck and shoulders as he drives his opponent down flat on the scoreboard




“Ah yes the traditional baseball chant” King says “I do believe they chanted that at Babe Ruth back in the day”


“. . . I dunno mate I’m mainly a cricket man myself” Axis finally admits.


“Cricket? Blech” King says as he makes gagging sounds.


Griffon quickly grabs Bruce by the arm and pulls him back to his feet, before Bruce has a chance to regain his bearing Griffon knocks Bruce down again with a short arm clothesline. The impact knocks Bruce down so hard that several of the lightbulbs in the scoreboard pop from the impact.


“It’s Griffon’s Grasp! If there is one thing you need to know about this guy it’s that you don’t want to end up in Griffon’s Grasp!” Axis says as the crowd cheers for the big man from Des Moines


Bruce is pulled back to his feet but once again it’s short lived as Arch totally flattens the Ultraviolent champion with yet another short arm clothesline. Griffon doesn’t release his grasp on Bruce’s wrist but pulls his 295 pound opponent back up again.




Spurred on by the mainly positive reaction he’s receiving in Houston Arch pulls Bruce forward once more, but this time he doesn’t land a short arm clothesline, instead he Irish Whips him towards the edge of the scoreboard and the 25 foot drop




The crowd is dejected as Bruce manages to stop his forward momentum a few feet short of the edge but their hopes are raised as Arch runs at the Ultraviolent champion from behind




Just as it looks like Arch is going to knock Bruce off the scoreboard the King of Pain sidesteps the attack and almost manages to push Arch forward enough to send the big man flying, almost but not quite. After Griffon punches Bruce in the face he grabs Blank by the hair and under the arm to try and hiptoss him up and over the side. Turns out it’s too early in the match and Bruce quickly blocks the hip toss and instead drops down driving Griffon’s bare skin into the scoreboard instead.




“Did you hear the lightbulbs pop?” King asks.


“I don’t even what to think about the damage that could do to bare skin.” Axis replies


Bruce grabs Arch by the leg and then begins to drag him AWAY from the edge.


“What the hell is this moron doing?” Axis asks as Bruce’s actions are totally counter-intuitive to the match stipulations.


“Hell if I know” King admits, he hardly ever knows what’s going on in Bruce’s mind – nor does he really want to know.


Every time Bruce drags Arch over another cluster of lightbulbs some of them shatter and dig into Arch’s back like tiny knives. After having drug Arch 20 or so feet across the HUGE scoreboard he finally stops, turns around and then gets ready for a pile driver


“He piledrove Skull on the concrete! he tombstoned Renegade on the Ice! Is he going for a trifecta with Griffon on the scoreboard?” King asks.


But try as he might he just can’t lift up the 310 pounder up for a pile driver. Bruce’s second attempt is blocked by Arch as the big man counters the piledriver with a back drop that sends Bruce Blank crashing into the scoreboard.




“His foot went through one of the speakers!” Axis points out


“That’s what happens when you fight on a scoreboard…. 25 feet in the air…. And it’s lit up” King says to really drive home how twisted the “House Rules” can be


Arch pulls Bruce’s leg out of the speaker and then drags Bruce back to his feet against his will. With Bruce still shaken from the backdrop Arch tries to use the opportunity to get a Full Nelson “Gridlock” on his opponent and thus secure the advantage.


“He’s got one arm behind Bruce’s neck! Just one more and Arch has Bruce at his mercy with the Gridlock”




Bruce quickly takes the wind out of Arch’s sails as he drives backwards with his free arm, striking him in the short ribs with a stiff elbow as he tries to escape the Full Nelson. With Arch winded from the knee to the gut Bruce tries to surprise him with a running clothesline but the man from Des Moins isn’t as staggered as Bruce thought and manages to grab the Ultraviolent champion mid attack, spin around and then slam him down onto the big screen TV under their feet with a huge power bomb.


*WHAM!!* *CRACK!!*


The impact cracks the big screen and the feed immediately goes fuzzy and out of focus.




“I didn’t expect that!” Axis says in surprise


“I thought it was only the Spanish Inquisition no one expected?” King quips.


With Bruce hurt from the power slam on the big screen TV Griffon knows he has to work fast to secure a victory. The big man quickly grabs Bruce by his dirty hair and pulls him up and into a power bomb position. With his might arms trembling Griffon manages to lift Bruce up and turn him over in the air before driving him down hard with a power bomb




“RIGHT THROUGH THE SCREEN!!” King yells out in surprise as Bruce’s body crashes through the TV screen sending shards of glass and smoke everywhere.




“Bruce could be electrocuted here! I mean there is a lot of power in one of those big screens and he went right into it!” Axis says


“He’s lucky he didn’t go all the way through it” King adds saying what everyone else in the dome thought.


Only Bruce’s legs stick out from the hole in the TV screen that’s now gone black. Even Arch is a little surprised by just how devastating that power bomb was and just stands there, staring down at Bruce for a moment, catching his breath and clearing his head. Then he reaches down inside the hole and grabs Bruce by the shirt and starts to pull him out.


“You know what the worst part is?” King asks.


“We’re out of Fosters?” Axis asks nervously.


“No! It’s that this isn’t the worst fall one of them will have to take before this is over” King explains.


When Arch pulls Bruce out from the hold in the big screen TV the viewers are treated to the horrific sight of Bruce’s back where his football jersey is cut to shreds from shoulder to ass and his back and shoulders have been cut in several places some even with glass shards still lodged in the skin. The power bomb has taken so much out of Bruce that he’s totally unresponsive when Griffon tries to pull him to his feet and just flops down against the scoreboard instead.


“Blank is OUT! I mean goodbye, hit the shower and leave before the traffic gets bad OUT!” Axis says to fulfill the traditional “state the obvious” requirement.


“If Bruce somehow manages to actually hang on to the title he’ll have to defend again on Storm, how the heck would he be able to do that?” King asks alluding to Bruce’s “Beat the Champ” challenge.


When Arch tries to drag Bruce across the scoreboard to throw him over the side he ends up with pieces of Bruce’s shredded jersey in his hands instead. When that fails Griffon places Bruce’s head between his knees, setting up for another power bomb but Bruce seems totally unresponsive and Arch is unable to dead lift Bruce up.


“Stick a fork in him, he’s done – that’s the ball game!”


“I think Arch could use a fork lift to get Bruce over the side” King says as Arch kicks at Bruce in frustration.


“That’s true, he can’t lift him up and he can’t drag Bruce by the shirt, it’s too torn and blood soaked so what’s a guy to do?” Axis replies.


Arch grabs Bruce by his leather belt and uses it to drag Bruce over towards the corner of the giant platform. Each step he takes he drags Bruce behind him leaving streaks of blood on the TV screen. When Arch reaches the edge Bruce finally stirs and tries to get Arch off his back to stay in the match.


“I think Bruce played a little possum King” Axis says suspecting that Bruce wasn’t totally out the entire time.


“Well it is the Alabama “state bird” so I wouldn’t be surprised” King replies.


Bruce tries to strike Arch with a back elbow but Griffon is able to move out of the way and instead kick Bruce in the back of the head knocking him half way over the side. The crowd screams in part horror and part excitement as Bruce teeters half way over the edge with his legs still inside. The teetering is quickly ended by Arch who takes a running start and then kicks Bruce’s legs




The kick flips Bruce’s entire body over the side and out of view of the camera that’s been following the match up on the actual scoreboard.




“Holy mother of mercy! Arch Griffon has ended Bruce’s title run at 199 days!” King laments almost in tears.


When Arch doesn’t see a hand holding on to the edge he raises his hands in the air to celebrate his apparently victory. But once the shot switches from the camera position on the scaffold to one of the ground cameras it’s revealed that Bruce is clinging on to the tower only 2 feet below the edge of the scoreboard.


“It’s not over! Yes!! IT’S NOT OVER YET!!” King yells out as they see Bruce’s bloodied body cling on to the steel as he tries to regain his breath.


“Arch doesn’t even know it! He thinks he’s won, he thinks it’s all over for Bruce” Axis points out.


After a moment or two Arch realizes that there was no bell, no announcement of him winning the title or anything of the like. Being suspicious he walks over to the corner where he threw Bruce over, gets down on his knees and peeks over the side.




“Bruce nailed Arch with his boot!” King yells out as Bruce swings his cowboy boot and nails the big man.


As he clung onto the supporting tower Bruce had apparently pulled his cowboy boot off and now holds it in his hand as a weapon. A weapon that knocked Arch back on his ass allowing Bruce to drag himself back over the edge. Bruce sits on his knees, resting there a moment to catch his breath no more than 2 feet from the edge after finally dragging himself up.


“Get away from the edge Bruce!!” King says hoping that Bruce would hear him.


“Man Arch took that hard heel right between the eyes yet he’s getting back up again” Axis points out as the mountain of a man gets back up.


Arch approaches Bruce but not too fast to ensure that his own momentum doesn’t pull him over the side when he attacks Bruce. Arch raises his arms to strike at Bruce




Bruce swings the boot to defend himself and ends up striking Arch with the metal tip of the boot in the midsection. Arch staggers backwards a couple of steps before attacking once more




With another desperation swing Bruce manages to strike Arch in the midsection once more before slumping forward onto his knees still trying his best to recover from the devastating power bomb earlier in the match. The second blow staggers Arch a bit more, making him pause a moment to catch his breath before attacking once again. This time he’s prepared for a swing at his midsection but since Bruce isn’t thinking just acting he instinctively swings the loose boot at the direction of the footsteps on the glass




When Bruce looks up from his slumped over position he sees Arch Griffon slowly sinking to his knees, holding his groin with pain etched across his face – it’s quite obvious that Bruce’s boot struck somewhere a bit more “delicate” than Arch’s mid-section.


“Holy shit that even brought a tear to MY eye” Axis says as he wipes away the aforementioned tear.


“This is your opening Bruce, this is your change to take control of the match! Seize the day!! Seize the Griffon!” King says encouragingly.


For the first time since he was power bombed on the big screen Bruce is back on his feet, he’s not steady and he’s not wearing one of his boots but he’s upright none the less and able to kick Arch square in the jaw knocking the big man backwards off his knees and onto the stats section of the scoreboard.


“Man that bare skin on those lightbulbs must be painful” King comments as they hear a couple of bulbs pop and others press their hot glass against Griffon’s skin.


“Let’s not forget that the-“




“-y’re electric” Axis says as sparks fly from where Griffon’s shoulder struck the scoreboard.


With Griffon on his back Bruce grabs the big man’s feet and hold them up in the air, slightly spread apart




“Oh no, no, no!!” Axis yells out as Bruce drops a knee to Arch’s “Little Archies”


Bruce gets back up, looks at the crowd who’s booing him louder now than they have been tonight and then holds up three fingers to signal for a 3rd “Nut cracker”




“He finally found a weakness in Griffon, he may be build like a tank but even HE is vulnerable in one place” King says giving Bruce’s tactics his official seal of approval.


Bruce drops his entire 295 pounds in an elbow drop to Arch’s “lower mid section” sending waves of pain through big man’s entire body. After three nut shots Bruce is finally satisfied that the momentum is firmly on his side and signals for his finisher by dragging his thumb across his throat.


“What’s he going to do? Not the Broken Dream? He can’t possibly get him up in the air for that.


“Since he’s got Arch in a front headlock I don’t think so” the Suicide King calmly says.


Bruce has one arm around Arch’s head as he grabs hold of his opponent’s tights and tries to lift all 310 pounds of him into the air. When Bruce attempts to pull Arch Griffon up for the Blank Bomb pain shoots up his back and arms from the punishment he’s taken so far in the match and the Blank Bomb attempt remains an attempt.


“His back is just too damaged to get Arch up, even if Bruce is in control Arch still has the advantage after driving Bruce into the big screen” King says.


“Advantage? After three nut shots?”


“Once they drop back down in their normal position he’ll be alright” King says dismissing Griffon’s plight.


Frustrated with his inability to lift Arch into the air Bruce pushes the big man off and walks away while shaking his head. With his back turned to the challenger Bruce isn’t aware of the fact that Arch Griffon remained standing after the push. Yes he’s bent over, yes he looks like he’s in pain but he’s up on his feet and Bruce has no clue


“BEHIND YOU CHAMP!!” King yells out, but sadly for him he’s too far away.


“Here comes the freight train” Axis says as Griffon summons every last shred of willpower in his body and then rushes at Bruce with his massive right arm poised to clothesline the Ultraviolent champion.




Bruce notices the attack at the last moment, ducks down and then in a feat of strength that probably even surprised himself manages to back drop Arch Griffon up and over his back.


Sending him crashing down on the exact spot where Bruce had been slammed twice before








The impact of backdropping 310 pounds of man onto the already broken big screen sends Arch Griffon THROUGH the back of the scoreboard as sparks and debris shoot out everywhere. Moments later Arch lands on the soft grass as the entire dome goes silent in horror.


The entire dome holds it’s breath as they watch Arch just lay there without moving, then he sifts his arm to signal that he’s not out cold and everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief.


“BRUCE WINS!! He sent Arch Griffon THROUGH THE SCOREBOARD!!” Axis screams as Bruce raises his hands in the air ignoring the boos and the jeers from the hostile crowd.


“He did it again! This wasn’t unlucky #13 for Bruce – he lives to defend the title another day” King says just before Smarkdown goes to another commercial break.

Edited by chirs3

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“King, last week at From the Fire, rookie Kevin Coyote really made a name for himself when he defeated his father, the legendary Longdogger Pete, in a career-versus-career match!” says Axis. “And now, he’s already setting his sights on a title opportunity, which he could earn tonight, if he can pull off a big upset against the new International Champion, the Wildchild!”


“Wildchild pulled off a pretty impressive upset of his own at From the Fire,” adds the Suicide King, “when he defeated Jay Hawke to become the International Champion. Personally, I’m rooting for Coyote in this match!”


“What a shock,” says Axis dryly. “The King of All Heels wanting the rulebreaker to win.”


“Are you questioning my integrity?” asks King. “Are you questioning my ability to call this match down the middle?”


“Well, I…”


“You know, one more wrong word from you, and you’ll be back in that old folk’s home where I found you this morning: doing play-by-play in front of the television for your imaginary friends!”


“Last week we learned that Kevin Coyote is willing to do whatever it takes in order to come away with a victory,” continues Axis, deliberately ignoring King. “We also learned the identity of his mysterious advisor!”


“That’s right,” adds King. “For weeks now, we’ve seen Coyote talking to some mystery person over the telephone, and she finally revealed herself at From the Fire, when she assisted Coyote in putting his father out of wrestling, once and for all!”


“It remains to be seen just to what extent this malicious young lady is able to influence young Kevin Coyote,” says Axis, “but she’s expected to accompany him to the ring here tonight!”


“Well, we know that she’s not above getting involved in the match, and if she does so here tonight, she could help her man find his way to victory yet again!”


“King, if she tries to interject herself in this match tonight, she could very well have a raven-haired spitfire on her hands, in the form of Melissa Fasaki!”


“Well, that wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen!” quips King. “I never saw a match that couldn’t be spiced up by a little catfight!”


“Will Wildchild be up to the challenge, after his grueling cage match last week, or will he merely be a stepping stone for a rising young star? Let’s find out!”






The toll of the bell silences the Astrodome, and calls everyone’s attention to the center of the ring, where Funyon raises the microphone to his lips:


“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “it is now time… for the MAIN EVENT!”






Suddenly, the stage and the top of the ramp are blanketed by a blinding white light, as “I’m Alive” by Disturbed begins to play. These lights begin to flash intermittently as Kevin Coyote and his mistress step out from behind the curtain.


“The following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall!” booms Funyon. “Making his way to the ring at this time, accompanied by Avery Duciel… from Brunswick, Georgia, and weighing two hundred twenty-five pounds… Kevin COOOOOYOTE!” Avery’s red and black business suit sharply contrasts the much more casual appearance of Coyote, who pauses occasionally to scare off a few fans bold enough to try to reach out to touch her.


“Kevin Coyote looks fairly confident, King,” notes Axis, as Kevin and Avery make their way into the ring. “He almost looks like he had a weight lifted off of his shoulders when he defeated Longdogger Pete at From the Fire!”


“I’m sure he does,” agrees King. “And, I might have been concerned with his ability to continue to motivate himself, now that he’s accomplished what he initially set out to do here in the SWF, but it looks as if Avery Duciel is going to keep him focused on the path to success here.”


“Indeed,” adds Axis, as Kevin removes his jacket and hands it to Avery. “And let’s not forget that Kevin Coyote was able to pull off an upset win against Wildchild in tag team competition only a few weeks ago!”


“That’s right!” chimes King. “He’s coming off the biggest win of his career, and he already holds a win over his opponent tonight… you know, confidence can go a long way in the ring; wrestling is ninety percent mental, anyway, so if you go into the match believing that you can beat your opponent, then you’re already ahead of the game!” Avery gives Kevin some last-minute consultation in the corner as “I’m Alive” fades out, and the crowd begins to cheer as it is replaced by Mystikal’s “Bouncin’ Back.”


“His opponent,” continues Funyon, “is being accompanied to the ring by Melissa Fasaki! From the Bahamas, and weighing in at two hundred fourteen pounds… the INTERNATIONAL Champion… the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!” Wildchild and Melissa slap hands with the fans surrounding the barricade as they make their way to ringside.


“Speaking of confidence,” says Axis, “you’ve got to think that Wildchild’s own confidence is riding high, after finally wresting the International Title from Jay Hawke, dethroning the greatest International Champion of all time!” Wildchild removes his shin guards and hands them to Melissa before somersaulting into the ring. He immediately rolls to his feet and walks towards the edge of the ring, leaps onto the middle ropes as he removes the International Title from his waist and raises it above his head, displaying it proudly for the fans…






“It’s a nice change of pace to see someone who can connect with the fans like Wildchild can holding such a prestigious title!” WC hands the belt to referee Ronald “Red” Herrington, who leans through the ropes to deliver it to the departing Funyon, and then signals the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:






“Bell’s gone,” says Axis, “and we’re underway!” Wildchild and Kevin lock up immediately in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, with WC taking control as he shifts into a side headlock. Kevin pushes him off towards the ropes, and floors him with a shoulderblock as he rebounds!


“Nice shoulderblock by Coyote,” says King, as Wildchild gets back to his feet. “And it’ll be interesting to see how well Coyote adjusts to being the bigger man in this match, after coming off a match where he was giving away a lot of size to his opponent!” WC and Kevin lock up once again, this time with Kevin muscling Wildchild backwards into a neutral corner, forcing Herrington to call for a break. Kevin takes a few steps back before deciding to sucker punch WC in the corner, but the Tropical Tumbler ducks out of the way, slipping behind Coyote and peppering him with rapid-fire right hands as he turns around! WC grabs the rookie by the left arm and twists it into a standing arm wringer.


“And this has got to be a unique experience for the Wildchild,” notes Axis, as Coyote tries to force WC back against the ropes. “Even as long as he’s been in the SWF now, it’s still very rare that he gets matched up against someone whom actually has less wrestling experience than he does!” Kevin escapes from the arm wringer by whipping Wildchild across the ring, and bellies out against the canvas as he bounces off the ropes, but the Caribbean Cruiser stops in his tracks and hops off the mat, driving an elbow smash into the small of Coyote’s back!






Kevin scrambles to his feet, clutching his back in pain, only to be met by the Wildchild, who knocks him back down with a standing dropkick! And another! Wildchild beats Kevin to his feet a third time and runs to the ropes, picking up speed as he rebounds and leaps off the canvas, whipping his leg sharply through the air as he levels Coyote with a leg lariat that sends him tumbling out to the arena floor! Avery rushes around the ring and helps her man get back to his feet; the two attempt to regroup as WC soaks in the crowd’s adulation:









“Kevin Coyote is definitely going to have his hands full contending with the International Champion here tonight,” says Axis. Avery gives Coyote a few more words of encouragement before he climbs back onto the apron. As soon as he steps into the ring, WC runs up to him and traps him in another arm wringer. Wildchild continues to keep the rookie off-balance by hammering his arm with clubbing forearm blows. He then hooks his arm underneath Coyote’s as he steps towards his body, and uses his leverage to take him over with an armdrag.


“Nice basic wrestling by Wildchild to help him take over this match,” remarks Axis, as WC shifts into an armbar. “And I have to believe that Kevin Coyote was ill-prepared from this kind of attack from the International Champion!”


“Well, Wildchild has surprised me on more than one occasion with his ability to wrestle,” concedes King reluctantly. “And, as much as I hate to admit it, it may even be good strategy on his part to only break out the actual wrestling every now and then.” Coyote negotiates his way back to his feet and escapes the armbar by scooping Wildchild up in his free arm and slamming him down to the canvas. He runs to the ropes and leaps into the air as he rebounds to crash into his opponent with an elbowdrop, but the Human Hurricane rolls out of the way! Wildchild beats Kevin to his feet and grabs him by the wrists, whipping him across the ring. He leaps into the air as Coyote bounces back and plants his feet into the rookie’s midsection, locks his arms behind Kevin’s head as he arches back, and flings Coyote through the air with his patented Freefall throw!


“Here come the high speed attacks!” cries Axis. “Wildchild’s starting to heat up!” WC runs to the ropes as Kevin scrambles to his feet and springs off the canvas, twisting through the air as he lines his elbow up with Coyote’s nose, and knocks him back down with a flying back elbow smash! WC quickly gets back up and rushes past Coyote towards the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds and snaring Kevin by the head as he flips over him…






… Pounding Coyote’s head against the mat as he connects with his patented flipping neck snap!


“Whiplash!” shouts Axis. “Wildchild is on fire!”


“Kevin Coyote had better think of something quick,” remarks King, “or it’s going to be back to the drawing board for him!”


“Wait just a moment, King,” interrupts Axis, as Avery climbs onto the apron. “What’s Avery Duciel doing up there?” Wildchild stops his attack as he sees his opponent’s manager up on the apron, and walks over to chastise her.


“Her job, obviously!” replies King. “She’s giving her man some time to recuperate.” Wildchild points an accusing finger at Avery as Kevin gets to his feet behind him. The Coyote spots a signal from his manager and charges towards the edge of the ring to attack WC from behind, but the International Champion catches on and slides out of the way at the last second! Kevin pulls up just short of knocking Avery off of the apron, and the Caribbean Cruiser sneaks up behind him to pull him backwards into a rollup!
















“Wildchild was nearly able to get a quick win with that school-boy cradle,” says Axis excitedly, as Melissa begins to come around the ring. “And here comes Melissa! I guess she didn’t appreciate Ms. Duciel getting so close to her man!” Melissa climbs up onto the apron and stomps over towards Avery, getting in her face as Red Herrington rushes over to intervene. Avery shoves Melissa backwards, and then hides on the other side of Herrington before she can respond.


“Look at how shameful Herrington is,” spits King, as Avery drops down to the arena floor, while Melissa is still trying to get around Herrington to get her hands on her. “He’s nothing but a lecher, that’s what he is!” Back inside the ring, Coyote scrambles back to his feet and charges towards Wildchild, but the Bahama Bomber sidesteps him and catches him as he turns around with a shuffling sidekick! WC pats his thigh to signal for the Caribbean Cutter and then runs towards the ropes…






… But Avery reaches up to pull the ropes, sending WC tumbling out to the floor!


“Brilliant move on the part of Avery Duciel!” praises King. “And she executed that to perfection; she waited until Red Herrington was distracted with Melissa Fasaki, and then snuck around the ring, knowing that Wildchild would eventually run to the ropes, and… WHAM!” Coyote rolls out to the arena floor and pulls WC to his feet, trapping him in a front waistlock and pushing him backwards into the ringpost! Coyote rolls WC back into the ring near the corner, only to grab his leg and slam it against the ringpost!


“And now Kevin Coyote has a golden opportunity to take control of this match!” says Axis. WC pulls himself back towards the center of the ring and struggles to get back to his feet, but the Coyote smells blood in the water; the rookie kicks at the back of Wildchild’s knee, causing him to fall helplessly to the canvas! Grabbing him immediately by the right heel, Kevin raises Wildchild’s foot several feet off of the canvas…






… Only to drop down, jamming the point of his elbow into Wildchild’s sore knee! He continues to lean against the Champion’s knee as he pulls up on the heel in an attempt to hyper-extend the knee.


“Ha!” snorts King as the Tropical Tumbler howls in pain. “He’s got him now! Now watch as Kevin Coyote goes to work!” Kevin gets back to his feet and drags WC over towards the edge of the ring, draping his leg across the bottom rope and then using the top rope to propel himself into the air…






… Before crashing down in a seated position on Wildchild’s knee! Avery applauds outside the ring as Kevin pulls himself back to his feet and drags the Bahama Bomber over to the corner.


“Impressive technical wrestling by Coyote!” gushes King. “Wildchild’s lack of ring awareness has put him in a vulnerable position, and now Kevin Coyote is going to take him apart!” Kevin positions Wildchild in the corner so that his legs are dangling outside, and then walks back towards the center of the ring, distracting Red Herrington as Avery Duciel sneaks over towards the International Champion.


“Pay attention, referee,” shouts Axis. “Look out for Avery Duciel!”






Unseen by the referee, Duciel grabs Wildchild by the leg and whips it hard against the ringpost, slamming his tender knee against the unforgiving solid steel!


“This is unfair,” grumbles Axis. “It’s two against one out there!”


“Hey,” answers King with a shrug, “nothing’s stopping Melissa from getting involved!”


“Nothing, except perhaps for her character, and sense of fair play!” snaps Axis.


“Well,” replies King, “if Wildchild wants to align himself with a manager that’s not willing to do whatever it takes, that’s his problem!” Melissa runs over to get her hands on Avery, but Duciel skips away, ensuring that she gets Herrington’s attention before Fasaki can get close to her.


Inside the ring, WC drags himself away from the ringpost and pulls himself to his feet as the rookie turns his attention back towards him. Kevin charges into the corner, and the Bahama Bomber surprises him by springing into the air to leapfrog him! The rookie crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles, but Wildchild once again lands gingerly on his right leg and tries to limp away from the corner…






… But Coyote recovers and quickly regains his advantage, storming out of the corner and clipping the Champion with a chop block!


“Quick thinking on the part of the rookie,” says King. “Very smart to go back to that knee, and not even allow Wildchild the opportunity to fight his way back into this match!”



Coyote drags Wildchild back towards the center of the ring and rolls him onto his stomach before grabbing him by the ankle and lifting his leg high into the air…






… Only to jam his knee back into the canvas with a devastating knee cracker!


“Kevin is systematically dismantling Wildchild,” marvels King. Continuing to press his advantage, the rookie straddles Wildchild, facing his lower body, and then bends down to grab him by the right ankle. Wrapping his arms around the Champion’s leg just below the knee, Kevin leans back, applying pressure to both the knee and the back with a single-leg Boston Crab!


“It’s the beginning of the end,” crows King. “Kevin has Wildchild right where he wants him; he’ll probably get a submission right here!”


Wildchild’s eyes are wide with pain as Coyote cranks back fiercely on the half-crab. Referee Herrington drops to a knee, asking Wildchild if he wants to give up, and the Bahama Bomber vehemently refuses as Avery bounces back and forth taunting him outside the ring.







The Tropical Tumbler pushes up against the canvas with his hands as he fights desperately to escape the half-crab.


“This crowd is getting behind the Wildchild,” says Axis. “And so is Melissa Fasaki. Look at the look of concern on her face outside the ring; it’s like she’s trying to will her man out of this hold!”


“No way!” laughs King. “This isn’t make-believe; Fasaki can’t give Wildchild special powers by cheering for him, and neither can these fans! Even if he manages to get out of this move, which he won’t, what’s he going to do then? His knee has got to be shredded wheat by now!”


“Don’t count Wildchild out yet,” admonishes Axis. “He’s surprised many a superstar here in the SWF who’s made the mistake of underestimating him!”


“Oh please,” scoffs King. “He’s not going to be able to fly around that ring, and that effectively takes away ninety-nine percent of his offense! He’s not going to be able to get Kevin up for the Wild Ride, and he’s not going to be able to jump high enough to hit the Falling Star Bomb, so how’s he going to win?”


Even though it places even more pressure on his back, Wildchild pushes up against the canvas in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure on his knee. The Houston fans cheer him on as he tries to hand-walk towards the edge of the ring:







“You’re almost there, Wildchild,” shouts Axis encouragingly. “Only two more feet!”


The cheers of the crowd become exponentially louder, and Kevin finds himself fighting both their energy and Wildchild, as the International Champion continues to force him backwards towards the ropes. He yells out behind him Avery as he notices the ropes rapidly approaching.


“Yes,” cries Axis. “You’re right there! Just reach out and grab the rope!”


Straining for all he’s worth, Wildchild lurches out towards the edge of the ring to grab onto the bottom rope and sweet relief, but just as his fingertips are almost on it, Avery Duciel leaps onto the ring apron and grabs onto the bottom rope, pulling it away from the ring with all the strength that she has, preventing Wildchild from being able to reach it. No longer able to maintain his precarious balance, Wildchild pitches forward, and the rookie capitalizes immediately on the sudden change in pressure, pulling the Tropical Tumbler back towards the middle of the ring! The crowd lets out a collective gasp, apparently deflated by Wildchild’s failed escape attempt.


“What did I tell you,” exclaims King, as Red Herrington runs over to the edge of the ring to admonish Avery for her interference. “Never going to happen!” Finally, Melissa decides that she’s had enough, and she runs around the ring, tackling Avery from behind!


“Here we go, Axis!” shrieks King. “Catfight!” Herrington climbs out of the ring in an attempt to separate the two women, and while the referee’s attention is focused elsewhere, Wildchild pushes against the mat in a final, desperate attempt to free himself, and this time the crowd erupts as he succeeds in wriggling out of the half-crab and getting back to an upright position. He bounces around on his left foot as Kevin maintains control of his right, and then suddenly springs into action, leaping off the mat and swinging his left leg towards Coyote’s head to deliver an Enzugiri, a maneuver that the rookie instantly recognizes and easily ducks to evade.






… But the Human Hurricane explodes back off the mat the second his leg comes into contact, whipping his leg at the head of the rookie from the opposite direction, and this time finding his target! Nineteen thousand fans leap to their feet as both men fall to the canvas, and Red Herrington turns his attention back towards the ring just in time to find both men laid out.


“Big time maneuver by the International Champion,” sighs Axis. “But does he have enough left to pull out a win?”


Wildchild drags himself over to the corner and uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet as Kevin Coyote scrambles to his feet and rushes towards the corner to nail the Champion with a running knee lift, but Wildchild manages to step out of the way at the last second, as Kevin crashes into the turnbuckle pad!







As Kevin staggers out of the corner, Wildchild sneaks behind him and pulls himself onto the middle turnbuckle, leaping off and grabbing Coyote by the head as he flies past, slamming him face-first into the canvas with a second-rope bulldog!


“Bulldog!” shouts Axis, as both men roll over onto their backs motionless. “Bulldog from the second turnbuckle!”


“This can’t be happening!” groans King.


Avery slams her fists against the ring apron out of frustration, and the fans begin to chant again as Herrington administers a ten count:









“Wildchild’s taken a tremendous amount of punishment to the knee,” says Axis, “but Kevin Coyote hasn’t gotten through this match unscathed; the next person to hit a big move will likely win the match!”


















Both Kevin and Wildchild manage to roll onto their knees as Red Herrington reaches his nine-count, and begin to exchange punches as they fight their way back to their feet:



















Wildchild gets the better of the exchange and grabs Coyote by the wrist, whipping him towards the corner…






… But the rookie spins around to reverse the whip attempt and wraps his arm around Wildchild’s head as he pulls the Champion towards him, lacing their legs together as he falls backwards, slamming Wildchild into the canvas with a Russian Leg Sweep!


“Beautiful Russian Leg Sweep,” applauds King, as Kevin rolls onto his knees. “What do you have to say now, Axis?”


“I have to admit,” concedes Axis, “that was a very alert maneuver by the rookie to… And here we go! He just gave the sign for the Coyote Takedown!”


“Hallelujah,” exclaims King, as Kevin bends down to pick up Wildchild… But the Bahama Bomber reaches up and grabs the rookie by the head, pulling him towards the mat and into an inside cradle!


“Small Package,” shouts Axis. “He’s got him!”


The crowd explodes into cheers as they see Coyote’s shoulders pinned to the mat, and begin chanting out the pinfall:

















But, unfortunately for Wildchild, Red Herrington hasn’t even counted to one, for the second he traps Kevin’s shoulders against the mat, Avery leaps onto the ring apron to divert the official’s attention. The crowd’s cheers quickly turn into violent boos as Duciel allows her man to continue on in the match!


“Damn that jezebel,” growls Axis. “Wildchild had the match won! If not for her interference, this match would be over!”


“Well, you know what they say,” answers King with mock sweetness, “if ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candy and nuts, we would all have a Merry Christmas!”


“What?” roars Axis. “Who the hell says that?” Wildchild rolls over onto his knees and hobbles over to the edge of the ring, lunging towards Avery, but she drops back down to the arena floor, safely out of reach. As Wildchild glares out of the ring at Avery, the rookie sneaks up behind him and hooks the inside of his leg, pulling him backwards towards the canvas into a rollup!


















“My goodness,” pants Axis. “I thought that Coyote was going to steal a win there!”


“You have to admit, though,” offers King, “there would have been some poetic justice in Coyote getting the win using a tactic that nearly backfired on him earlier in the match!” Melissa fumes on the other side of the ring, but chooses not to intervene, unwilling to risk her man being victimized once more by the referee’s distraction. Kevin beats Wildchild to his feet and rushes towards him, his head lowered to deliver a spear…






… But the Bahama Bomber leaps straight into the air, extending his leg as Coyote’s head passes underneath him, and lowers it onto the back of his neck, driving him face-first into the canvas!



“Cutter!” exclaims Axis. “Caribbean Cutter! Kevin never saw it coming!” Wildchild rolls the rookie onto his back and hooks the leg as Herrington drops down to deliver the three count:




















Nineteen thousand strong erupt as “Bouncin’ Back” begins to pump through the speakers once more! Wildchild flops over onto his back, panting like a dog as Red Herrington raises his hand in victory.


Funyon rises from his seat at ringside, delivering the International Title to the edge of the ring as he lifts the microphone to his lips. “Here is your winner,” he says, “the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”


“What did I tell you, King?” laughs Axis. “You can NEVER count out this young superstar! As the great Rudy Tomjanovich once said, don’t EVER underestimate the heart of a champion!”


“Oh, for God’s sake!” barks King. “You just had to sneak that in there, didn’t you? You just had to kiss up to the locals!”


“Wildchild delivers another gutsy performance against a very determined Kevin Coyote,” says Axis, ignoring King, “as we bring this episode of Smarkdown to a close… for the King, I’m Axis, wishing you good night, everybody!”


Wildchild rolls onto his knees, clutching the International Title close to his chest…



As we:


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