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Ace309

SWF CLUSTERFUCK 2007!!!!

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Tom Flesher presents....
SWF
CLUSTERFUCK

TAPED Wednesday, January 31, from THE PYRAMID in MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE!
AIRING Thursday, February 1!

(5pm PST, 8pm EST; check local listings)
(Send all promos/marked matches to Ace309)


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THE MAIN EVENT – CLUSTERFUCK 2007
COMPETING IN THE CLUSTERFUCK:

* Michael Stephens (ENTRANT #1)
- Jay Hawke
+ Akira Kaibatsu
* Zyon
- Calvin Szechstein
+ Zack Malibu
* Alan Clark
- "Mister Swiss" Victor Herzog
+ Insane Luchador
* MANSON
- Landon Maddix
+ Ricky Barbosa
* Jimmy the Doom
- Matt Myers
+ Johnny Dangerous
* Nighthawk


RUMORED ENTRANTS

The Memphis Eel
The Boston Strangler
Bruce Blank
Wayne Blank
"Big Bully" Bruner
Ghost Machine 2.1 (upgraded via the addition of a back brace)
Charlie "Grappler" Matthews
Ced Ordonez
The Apostle
Bloodshed
Janus
"The Ace" Pierre Donette
Amy Stephens
TORU
KOJI

... and many more!

-> That's right, it's time again for our annual ripoff of the Royal Rumble tradition of crowning the next challenger to the SWF World Championship! The winner of the Clusterfuck will face off against the World Champion, whoever he may be, at From the Fire 2007! Keep in mind, the Clusterfuck winner has only once lost his challenge match!
Rules: The first two wrestlers begin the match in the ring. Every two minutes thereafter, a new wrestler will enter until all twenty entrants have joined the fray. A wrestler is eliminated when he is thrown over the top rope and both his feet touch the floor. When only three wrestlers remain, the over-the-top elimination disappears, and the match becomes a triple threat where the first pin or submission will win the Clusterfuck!
Send to:
* : Send to Ace309
- : Send to HollywoodSpikeJenkins
+ : Send to chirs3

(If anyone without a marker is planning to write, send it to me. And for god's sake send me a PM beforehand.)

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SWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
"The Beast" Gabriel Drake © vs. Mr. Cold Front Classic JJ Johnson

->
Rules: Standard.
Send to: Ace309

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OPENING TAG TEAM ACTION
Wild & Dangerous vs. Cadillac Boys

-> One of the teams that defined the SWF's tag team division takes on a pair of newcomers to the territory who established their names elsewhere. This should be good.
Rules: Standard tag. If you don't use the tag ropes, I'll be a very sad man.
Send to:

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FADE IN

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

 

 

The ceiling of the Pyramid erupts in a pyrotechnic outburst! The fans cheer outrageously as the cameras pan back and forth through the crowd, stopping on signs that say things like “STRAIGHT MOTHERFUCKING BREAD!,” “I FOUND MERC'S EAR!” “MR. COLD FRONT CLASSIC = ANOTHER WORLD TITLE SHOT BLOWN,” and “DRAKE RAPED MY CAT!”

 

“Good evening, everyone!” shouts an excited Mak Francis. “Welcome to Memphis, Tennessee! Welcome to the Pyramid! Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Clusterfuck 2007! Alongside the Suicide King, I’m the Franchise, Mak Francis, and King, we’ve got a great night of action ahead of us tonight! A twenty-man battle royale, and I’ve got to say that this year’s ‘Fuck creates tremendous interest for me; a lot of focus around the fact that Michael Stephens is going to be the number-one entrant!”

 

“Toxxic has done just about everything there is to do here in the SWF,” says King. “There are, of course, two things of note that he’s never done, and one of them is win the Clusterfuck!”

 

“Not only has he never won it,” adds Mak, “he’s never been IN it; this is Stephens’ first-ever appearance in the actual Clusterfuck match! And, I’ve gotta tell ya, as the number-one entrant, I don’t like his chances!”

 

“He’s not just the number-one entrant,” says King, “he’s the number-one target! There are going to be nineteen other guys in that match that would love to make a name for themselves by being the one to eliminate the four-time former Heavyweight Champion!”

 

“And speaking of the World Heavyweight Champion,” segues Mak. “SWF World Heavyweight Champion Gabriel Drake will make his first PPV title defense here tonight, against the two-time Cold Front Classic winner, JJ Johnson!”

 

“Johnson is beginning to be known as a guy that can’t win the big one,” says King. “This is the second year in a row that he’s got a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship here at Clusterfuck after winning the Cold Front Classic, but I’m not convinced that this match is going to turn out any different from last year!”

 

“Both highly anticipated matchups here tonight,” says Mak. “But, kicking things off, we’ve got a tremendous tag team match! King, OAOAST superstars Calvin Szechstein and Zack Malibu came here to the SWF to a lot of raised eyebrows, but they’ve been very successful since forming the Cadillac Boys here in the SWF!”

 

“Well, they’ve had some early success,” concedes King. “But they’ve never been in the ring against a team with the credentials of a Wild and Dangerous… not in the OAOAST, or anywhere else!”

 

“Perhaps not,” says Mak, “but this is what they’ve asked for; they’ve got their sights set on the SWF Tag Team Championship, and they hope to prove that they deserve a shot by defeating the most decorated tag team in SWF history!”

 

“I don’t generally root for Wild and Dangerous,” says King, “as I don’t care for either one of those guys, or the way that they wrestle. But I’ve got to show some solidarity for the SWF, the best wrestling promotion in the world today! And these two pretty boys can go a long way towards getting on my good side by putting the Cadillac Boys in their place!”

 

“It should be a great match!” says Mak enthusiastically. “Let’s go up to Funyon!”

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

“Our opening contest,” booms Funyon, “is a tag team attraction, scheduled for one fall, with a one-hour time limit!”

 

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVERYBODY KNOWS I’M IN OVER MY HEAD

OVER MY HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAD…”

 

Funyon's ring introductions are interrupted by the sounds of “Over My Head (Cable Car)” by the Fray infiltrating the speakers. Through the curtain steps “Cadillac” Calvin Szechstein, arms outstretched and a microphone in his right hand, which he brings to his lips.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Royal Crown Cola and the OAOAST proudly present to you... the Cadillac Boys!” Calvin proudly proclaims as Zack Malibu steps through the curtain behind him. “At a total combined weight of four hundred three pounds, he is the winner of the 2007 Lethal Rumble, and I… am the longest-reigning champion in OAOAST history! We are Zack Malibu and Calvin Szechstein! We are the team that’s about to take the SWF by storm! We are... the Cadillac Boys!”

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

“The fans here don’t seem to be very impressed with the accomplishments of the outsiders,” notes Mak.

 

 

ESS-DUB-EFF!

ESS-DUB-EFF!

ESS-DUB-EFF!

ESS-DUB-EFF!

 

 

“And why should they be?” asks King. “Did these two clowns actually expect to be cheered by the SWF faithful?”

 

“Promotional consideration in this match has also been paid for by Parliament Pictures,” continues Calvin, as he and Zack continue to make their way to the ring, “makers of the new blockbuster movie hitting theatres this Friday, “Your Time Has Come,” starring Ben Affleck and Cyclone Comet… And speaking of people whose time has come, that brings me to our opponents for the night: Wild and Dangerous!”

 

“Calvin appears to be having fun running his mouth,” says Mak, “but Zack Malibu looks like he’d rather be somewhere else… These guys don’t appear to have anything in common, King; how do you suppose they met?”

 

“I don’t know,” replies King with a shrug, “but I understand that they met somewhere on Hollywood Boulevard.”

 

“Wild and Dangerous may have been pretty good at one time,” says Szechstein, “but they’ve never faced anybody like us! You’re all about to witness, first-hand, the greatness of the OAOAST, when we defeat your legendary tag team! And, when we go on beyond this match, and challenge for the tag titles and win, you’ll be able to see us on OAOAST Helddown, every week at…”

 

Calvin is suddenly interrupted as Gang Starr’s “Manifest” begins to blast through the speakers; the appreciative Memphis fans all begin cheering loudly as Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous make their way out from behind the curtain!

 

“Thank God!” sighs King. “I never thought I’d ever see the day when I’d be happy to see these two jokers!”

 

“Their opponents,” shouts Funyon, “at a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-nine pounds… WILD! AAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!” Wildchild and Johnny slap hands with the fans as they make their way down to the ring; they enter the ring with Johnny sliding underneath the bottom rope and WC somersaulting between the bottom and middle ropes, and then pop to their feet simultaneously! They raise their arms to salute the crowd before heading over to their corner.

 

“They love Wild and Dangerous here in Memphis,” says Mak, as “Manifest” fades out, “just like they do all over the world!” Johnny exits to the apron, leaving WC to start the match, as usual; referee Ronald “Red” Herrington motions for the timekeeper to ring the bell, signifying the start of the match:

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Wildchild makes his way over to Calvin to engage in a tie-up, but Cadillac stops him, holding his arm up to maintain separation between him and WC, while he raises the microphone back to his lips.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Calvin, “the following collar-and-elbow tie-up is about to be brought to you by Ames Cleaners, where they guarantee one-hour turnaround service…”

 

“What the hell is this guy doing?” King snaps irately. “Quit stalling and start the match!”

 

“And also sponsored in part by British Knights! Official suppliers of OAOAST wrestling boots for over three years…”

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

In a flash, WC races past Szechstein and leaps onto the top rope; he curls himself into a ball as he springs back towards the center of the ring, and knocks Calvin down with his patented Pinball attack! The microphone goes flying as Wildchild quickly recovers and assumes a mounted position over Szechstein, before raining down a battery of rapid-fire right hands!

 

“Well, that’s one way to shut him up!” shouts King. WC pulls Calvin to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring, and hooking him underneath the arm as he rebounds to take him over with a lightning-quick armdrag that knocks the wind out of his body! Wildchild quickly shifts into an arm-wringer as he pulls Szechstein to his feet, and drags him over to his corner; he makes the tag to Johnny, and then holds him in place as the Barracuda climbs up to the top turnbuckle, only to come down with a flying double-axe handle to the elbow!

 

“Tag is made to the Barracuda,” reports Mak, “the biggest and strongest man in this match… but as you just saw, he can still fly with the best of them!” Johnny grabs Szechstein by the wrist and whips him into the corner, rushing in after him to deliver a crushing clothesline! Johnny then pulls Calvin out of the corner and whips him across the ring, but Szechstein reverses, sending Johnny into the corner instead. The Barracuda leaps up to the second turnbuckle and gives his opponent a head fake, causing Calvin to belly out against the canvas; he then climbs up to the top turnbuckle and waits for Calvin to get back to his feet before leaping off…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And levels Szechstein with a flying lariat! Johnny rolls him over and applies a lateral press, but Zack runs in to break up the pin at two! Johnny pulls Szechstein to his feet and leads him back over to his corner as Red Herrington ushers Malibu out of the ring; Herrington turns around just in time to see Johnny tag WC back in.

 

“Tag is made,” says Mak. “And Wild and Dangerous are keeping the fresh man in on Calvin Szechstein!” Johnny grabs Calvin by his arm and whips him into the near ropes; there’s no time for the Barracuda to get off anything half as devastating as he’d like, so he quickly bellies out as Szechstein bounces off the ropes, letting his opponent float over him. He quickly hops up to his feet and a quick shoulder check lets him see Wildchild primed on the apron, poised and ready to strike. Johnny quickly lowers his head, looking for a back body drop as Calvin ricochets off the ropes back towards him, but Calvin is still coherent enough to see that one coming, and he does what any man would do in this situation... He leapfrogs over the Barracuda…

 

 

WHAM!

 

… Whereupon the Bahama Bomber knocks him out of the sky with a springboard missile dropkick! The fans roar their approval as WC pops to his feet and raises his arms to acknowledge the crowd.

 

“Phenomenal double-team action by Wild and Dangerous!” exclaims Mak. “It looked like Wild and Dangerous were looking to put the match away with the Silver Bullet, but Calvin Szechstein had it well scouted… but then, Wildchild made a phenomenal recovery in midair!”

 

Wildchild waits for Calvin to get back to his feet, before scooping him up off the canvas and planting him back down with a scoop slam! He immediately leaps off the canvas and extends his right leg to crash down into Calvin with a legdrop, and the rolls away from Calvin and onto his stomach, fluidly getting back to his feet as he hops back off the canvas, this time stretching out his left leg to hit a second straight legdrop! This time, Wildchild rolls atop Calvin and applies a lateral press, as Herrington dives into position to count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Calvin kicks out at two, and then rolls out to the arena floor, leaning against the ring barricade to gather himself. Malibu heads over to where his partner is at to check on him, as Wildchild salutes everyone else in the crowd by giving the sign for the Wild Ride!

 

“Wild and Dangerous definitely have the Cadillac Boys on the defensive,” says Mak. “They’d better come up with something else quick, or this could be a very long night!”

 

“Or a very short one!” replies King. “It’s just like I said earlier, these guys weren’t prepared for a top SWF tag team; they might be able to win in that nickel-and-dime promotion they came from, and they might have even had some success against some of our ham-and-eggers, but you’re talking about one of the top teams in SWF history now!”

 

“I’m going to tell MANSON you called him a ham-and-egger,” taunts Mak. “I hope your insurance is paid up… And since when did you start supporting Wild and Dangerous, anyway?”

 

“Since they were booked to wrestle these two clowns,” replies King. “I’d cheer for one of our boys against any of theirs, even Maddix… Well, maybe not Maddix…” The Cadillac Boys make their way back over to their side of the ring, where Szechstein slides back underneath the ropes, only to quickly tag his partner into the ring.

 

“And here comes Zack Malibu,” says Mak, “who just won the Lethal Rumble at Anglepalooza this past Sunday, the OAOAST’s own version of the Clusterfuck; let’s see if he has any better luck in there against the Wildchild!”

 

“And I’d just like to point out how pathetic it is for them to rip us off so blatantly,” says King.

 

Zack and WC tie up in the center of the ring, and Zack stuns Wildchild with a kneelift to the midsection. He then takes control with a side-headlock; Wildchild leads Zack against the ropes and uses them as leverage to push Malibu across the ring, but Zack knocks him flat against the canvas as he rebounds with a powerful running shoulderblock! WC bellies out against the canvas as Malibu runs to the ropes, but then quickly pops to his feet and springs off the canvas as Zack rebounds a second time, locking his ankles behind Malibu’s head as he arches backwards to take Zack over with a rana! The Caribbean Cruiser beats Malibu back to his feet and quickly takes him back down with an armdrag; WC shifts to an arm-wringer as he leans over to his corner and tags Johnny back in.

 

“Solid strategy by Wildchild,” acknowledges King. “He became aware of the strength disadvantage, so he had the presence of mind to get his partner in there!” Johnny steps back into the ring, but Malibu surprises him by picking him up in a bearhug and dropping him back down onto his outstretched thigh with an inverted atomic drop! Dangerous turns away from Malibu, clutching his tailbone, and Zack takes advantage of the opportunity to wrap his arms around Johnny’s throat from behind before falling down…

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Planting Dangerous into the canvas with a sleeper drop! Zack the turns towards his corner and begins crawling over to his partner’s outstretched arm.

 

“Finally some resilience from the Cadillac Boys!” says Mak. “Perhaps we’ll get a competitive match after all!” Zack tags Calvin in, who heads over to Johnny and begins stomping him in the back with heavy boots; he then whips Johnny into the ropes, who easily reverses, and snatches Calvin out of the air as he rebounds, to drive him into the canvas with a ferocious powerslam! Johnny gets to his feet and quickly tags Wildchild back in.

 

“Here we go,” says Mak. “This match has gotten a lot more interesting in the last few minutes; business is definitely about to pick up!” WC bounds into the ring energetically and begins peppering Calvin’s face with rapid-fire right hands; he then grabs Szechstein by the wrist and whips him across the ring, but Calvin reverses. Cadillac hits the deck before WC even hits the ropes, not giving him the opportunity to surprise him with a flying attack, and as Wildchild bounces off the opposite set of ropes…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… Malibu sneaks across the apron and buries a knee into WC’s back!

 

“Knee to the back by Zack,” says Mak. “And it’s obvious that he’s not above bending the rules slightly; that may have just turned the tide!” Szechstein grabs WC by the back of the head and leads him over to his corner, where he slams him face-first into the top turnbuckle. Malibu feigns disinterest as he looks on, and then reaches out to accept the tag.

 

“Tag is made 2007 Angle Rumble Winner!” shouts Mak. Calvin leads WC towards the edge of the ring and then shoves him into the ropes; he catches Wildchild as he bounces backwards off the ropes with a stiff forearm to the kidneys, which causes the Bahama Bomber to clutch his back in pain…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And sets him up for a running clothesline by Malibu! Zack lays atop him and applies a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

Wildchild kicks out at one. Malibu pulls WC to his feet and leads him back over to the corner, where Szechstein extends his arm to be tagged back in. Calvin drops the tag rope and returns to the ring, dropping down to one knee as Zack scoops Wildchild up into his arms, dropping him down onto Calvin’s outstretched thigh for an assisted gutbuster! Malibu returns to the apron as Cadillac covers:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Wildchild kicks out at two! Calvin pulls WC back to his feet and leads him over to the corner, where he quickly tags Zack Malibu back in.

 

“It looks like the Cadillac boys have found their groove,” notes Mak, as Szechstein holds Wildchild’s arm back, exposing his midsection for a piercingly powerful palm strike! Malibu pushes WC down to the canvas and hooks the leg as Herrington drops down to count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Wildchild kicks out at two! Zack pulls the challenger to his feet and leads him over to a neutral corner.

 

“I have to admit, the Cadillac Boys have been a little more resilient than I gave them credit for,” says King, “but we have yet to see how they will respond once Wild and Dangerous gets their full offense working!”. Malibu grabs Wildchild by the wrist and whips him across the ring, driving him forcefully into the turnbuckles, sternum-first! WC bounces out of the corner like a racquetball, and falls feebly to the canvas, where Malibu once again applies a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Wildchild kicks out at two once again! Malibu pulls him over to the corner and tags Szechstein back in. Zack scoops WC up off the canvas and slams him back down, exiting to the apron as Calvin climbs leisurely up to the top turnbuckle.

 

“The Cadillac Boys are working like a well-oiled machine right now,” says Mak, as Szechstein takes a moment to pose for the crowd. “I can’t believe how they’ve been able to turn this match around… But they’d better not let themselves get overconfident!” Calvin dives from the top turnbuckle to drive an elbowdrop into WC’s chest!

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

 

… But he slams into the canvas harmlessly as the Tropical Tumbler rolls out of the way! Calvin beats Wildchild to his feet by half a step, but in the time it takes him to make his way over to his opponent, the challenger snaps him over with an aggressive armdrag! WC pulls Calvin abruptly to his feet, and shifts into an arm wringer as he reaches over to his corner to tag in the Barracuda! Johnny steps into the ring and delivers a series of devastating sledgehammer-like blows to Calvin’s elbow! The Barracuda then grasps him firmly by the wrist and lifts Szechstein completely off the canvas by his arm!

 

“Whoa!” shouts Mak, as Johnny slams Szechstein down hard on his arm. “Tremendous display of power by Johnny Dangerous! Johnny abruptly pulls Szechstein back to his feet and tags in Wildchild, who leaps gracefully to the top turnbuckle, and comes down hard with a flying double-axe handle to the elbow! WC quickly applies a series of wrenching arm-wringers, before finally taking Szechstein down with a strong armdrag. The Bahama Bomber shifts into a sitting armbar, applying his heel to the base of Calvin’s neck to hold him still as he reaches into his corner to tag Johnny back in. The Barracuda runs to the ropes, leaping into the air as he rebounds; WC suddenly takes the pressure off Calvin’s neck and rolls backwards on his shoulders as Johnny comes crashing down, giving the Barracuda a clear path to deliver a running body splash onto Calvin’s arm!

 

“Solid teamwork by Wild and Dangerous!” praises Mak, as Wildchild rolls fluidly out of the ring. “They’ve managed to survive the initial press by the Cadillac Boys, and now they’re looking to set the tone in this match!” Johnny pulls Calvin back to his feet and traps him in a hammerlock, before scooping him up off the canvas and driving him back down with a hammerlock slam! Johnny pulls Calvin to his feet, but Cadillac stuns him with a rake of the eyes, and dives towards his corner and makes the tag to Zack Malibu; Zack steps into the ring and rushes towards Johnny, but the Barracuda is waiting for him, and scoops him into a bearhug, before abruptly dropping him down onto his outstretched thigh for an Inverted Atomic Drop!

 

“Ouch!” groans Mak. “A little payback for Johnny Dangerous!” Zack grabs his tailbone in pain, leaving him unprotected as Johnny blasts him in the top of the head with a Scorpion Kick that knocks him down!

 

“Wild and Dangerous are starting to get the momentum going back their way in this match!” shouts Mak. “And that could be very bad news for the Cadillac Boys!” Johnny leads Zack over to his corner, where he makes the tag to Wildchild. WC steps into the ring as Johnny whips Malibu across the ring, and then springs into the air as Zack bounces off the ropes, to bust him in the mouth with a flying back elbow!

 

“Great teamwork by Wild and Dangerous,” says King.

 

Mak shakes his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe that you’re rooting for Wild and Dangerous to win!”

 

“What?” snaps King defensively. “It’s not about them, it’s about fed pride… Quit trying to misquote me!” Wildchild pulls Malibu to his feet and traps him in a front-facelock; he reaches down to grab Zack by the leg to attempt a suplex, but Malibu counters with a suplex of his own. WC counters however, landing on his feet behind Malibu and trapping him in a waistlock; he pushes Zack towards the edge of the ring, and tries to pull him off the ropes into a rolling cradle, but Zack hangs on. WC quickly gets to his feet as Malibu turns around and leaps into the air as Zack makes a move towards him, locking his legs behind Malibu’s neck and arching backwards, taking him over in a standing rana!

 

“Tremendous agility displayed by the Wildchild!” exclaims Mak, as WC makes the tag to Johnny; the Barracuda steps into the ring as Wildchild exits and pulls Malibu to his feet. He lifts Zack over his head for a press slam, but this time it’s Malibu that slips out, landing behind him and trapping him in a waistlock and pushing him into the ropes. As Malibu had done earlier with WC, Johnny counters by hanging onto the ropes, and like WC did with Malibu, Zack tries to get the better of it by surprising his opponent with a kick. Johnny catches his leg in mid-kick…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… But Zack suddenly springs off his other foot and blasts Johnny in the side of the head with an Enzugiri! He scrambles over to Johnny and hooks the leg:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Johnny kicks out at two! Zack pulls Johnny to his feet and leads him over to the corner. He grabs him by the wrist and whips him across, but the bigger and stronger Barracuda counters easily, sending Malibu crashing into the turnbuckles! Johnny charges into the corner, but Zack gets his feet up, driving a boot into Johnny’s face!

 

“Johnny’s got the power advantage,” notes King, “but it’s obvious that Malibu’s a little bit quicker; he’d better tag his partner back in!” Malibu climbs up to the middle turnbuckle and leaps into the ring, but the Barracuda snatches him out of the air with a bearhug, and powers him back into the corner, driving his back into the turnbuckles with a tremendous spear! He pulls Zack out of the corner and scoops him up before slamming him back down to the canvas.

 

“Johnny might not be able to keep up with Malibu,” replies Mak, “but once he leaves his feet, he’s in no-man’s land!” Johnny reaches over to tag WC back in, and then moves over to Malibu’ lower half, locking his arms underneath Zack’s legs and falling backwards as Wildchild races towards the ropes; the Human Hurricane leaps onto the top rope and curls into a ball as he springs backwards…

 

… Johnny sends Malibu flying with a slingshot…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And Zack is crushed as he gets launched into the path of Wildchild’s oncoming Pinball attack! WC rolls him over onto his back and applies a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR—

 

 

 

 

Szechstein, microphone in hand, rushes into the ring and kicks Wildchild in the back to break up the pin!

 

“Oh what is this?” asks Mak, as Calvin brings the microphone to his lips. “These guys were right back in the matchup; what is he doing!”

 

“Speaking of interruptions,” Cadillac booms into the microphone, “the preceding boot to the back was brought to you by DirecTV, who now have HD DVR available right here in Memphis, Tennessee…”

 

 

BOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

“… That will enable you to pause live action, as well as view OAOAST superstars such as Zack Malibu and myself in crystal-clear clarity!” Cadillac turns back towards the canter of the ring…

 

 

CRACK!

 

 

… And Johnny Dangerous knocks him silly with a running Johnny Kick!

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

 

“What a ferocious kick!” shouts Mak. “Obviously Johnny Dangerous has had enough of listening to Calvin Szechstein run his mouth!” Johnny grabs the now discarded microphone and lifts it to his lips:

 

“That Johnny Kick was brought to you by the S-W-F!”

 

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

“There you go, Dangerous!” says King approvingly. “Teach that jackass a lesson: he doesn’t bring that stuff in here!” The Barracuda pulls Cadillac to his feet and pounds him with punishing palm strikes that send him stumbling backwards into his corner; meanwhile, Wildchild pulls Malibu to his feet and forces him into the opposite corner!

 

“We’ve got mayhem inside the ring!” shouts King. “It’s busting loose already!” Johnny and WC glance at each other before grabbing their respective opponent by the wrist and whipping them towards each other in the center of the ring, causing them to collide head-to-head! Calvin falls to the canvas and Zack stumbles groggily backwards towards the edge of the ring, leaving him a wide-open target for Wild and Dangerous…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… Who send him flying over the top rope and out to the arena floor with a double-dropkick! Malibu rolls out towards the foot of the ramp to try and gather himself, while Wild and Dangerous pull Calvin to his feet inside the ring.

 

“Referee Red Herrington has lost control of this one!” says King, as Malibu begins to get back to his feet. Wild and Dangerous whip Szechstein across the ring, lowering their shoulders as he rebounds and sending Cadillac into orbit with a double back-bodydrop that sends him sailing over the top rope and out of the ring…

 

 

CRASH!

 

… And into his unsuspecting partner, knocking them both back down!

 

“My God!” shrieks Mak. “What a back-bodydrop!” WC and Johnny wait until they see Zack and Calvin start to get back up before running across the ring; Wild and Dangerous pick up speed as the bounce off the ropes, and then take flight as they approach the edge of the ring…

 

 

CRASH!

 

 

… With Johnny going through the ropes to drill Malibu with a suicide dive, while Wildchild goes up and over, to level Szechstein with a sensational tope con hilo!

 

 

“That was amazing!” exclaims Mak. An aerial assault in stereo!” WC and Johnny pull Malibu to his feet and trap him in a double front-facelock before snatching him up off the arena floor…

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

… And suplexing him onto his partner! The crowd begins to really get pumped up as the action in the ring has increased in intensity.

 

“I tell you what, King,” says Mak, as Wildchild leads Malibu over to the edge of the ring and rolls him underneath the bottom rope. “Wild and Dangerous are firing on all cylinders right now; this match could already be a foregone conclusion!”

 

“Well, this is a pivotal point for the Cadillac Boys,” King replies, as WC climbs back onto the apron. “If they can’t get something going in their favor here quickly, I can’t see any way that they can come back in this match!” Wildchild grabs onto the top rope and launches himself into the ring, crashing down onto Malibu with a slingshot senton splash! He flips over and applies a lateral press:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Zack gets his foot on the ropes! WC pulls Zack to his feet, but Malibu stuns him with an eye rake, and dives desperately to his corner, to make the tag to Szechstein.

 

“Well, here it is,” says King, as Cadillac steps into the ring. “And you might as well call this the Cadillac Boys’ last stand, because if they can’t turn it around right now, that’s going to be all she wrote!”

 

Calvin enters the ring swiftly to get the jump on the Bahama Bomber and levels him from behind with a lariat, sending Wildchild face-first into the canvas! Szechstein hops onto WC’s back the instant Wildchild eats canvas, holding him down as he begins to throw punches into the Caribbean’s head! Herrington orders Cadillac off but Szechstein pays him no heed and continues punching, forcing the referee to begin a count:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Finally, Calvin ceases his assault and rolls off his opponent. He glares at the Wildchild, his eyes dark, and then stretches his arm out to the crowd.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

 

“He’s not going to get much love from this crowd, especially after attacking a down man from behind,” the Gambling Man says. “He’d be better off just trying to focus on the match.”

 

“Indeed, he’s squandering a precious opportunity here,” Francis says in total agreement as Zack reminds his partner of that very point, barking at Calvin to concentrate on Wildchild. Calvin grabs a handful of Wildchild’s braided hair to stand him, but the Caribbean Cruiser knocks Szechstein’s hand down then blasts him in the face, right between the eyes with a right hand! It momentarily stuns Calvin, sending him a step back, but Wildchild closes the gap and delivers three more solid punches to Cadillac’s skull!

 

*WHAP!*

*WHAP!*

*WHAP!*

 

“Calvin must have really pissed the Wildchild off because those have to be some of the stiffest shots I’ve seen him deliver in a long time,” says Mak. “He’s really letting Calvin have it here!”

 

Calvin falls into the ropes after the last blow connects with his face then bounces off, stumbling forward, and Wildchild whips him towards the Wild and Dangerous side of the ring. He hits the ropes just a foot away from the Barracuda and desperately hooks his arms around the ropes he keeps himself from bouncing off them and back towards Wildchild. He smiles in relief from saving himself until Johnny suddenly cranks his foot up and into the back of Cadillac’s head, getting a massive pop from the crowd…but an earful from the referee! Calvin staggers off the ropes with a hand to the back of his head as Wildchild races in-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-and levels Szechstein with a leg lariat!

 

“This is starting to become a one-sided affair again,” the Gambling Man observes, “and I think we all knew from the beginning that the Cadillac Boys were in over their heads so this should come as no surprise.”

 

“Careful there, Brian,” the Franchise warns. “You might find yourself pulling your foot out of your mouth if you keep dismissing the Cadillac Boys this early. They are undefeated in the SWF after all.”

 

“Yes but you and I both know that they’ve never faced a team of this level before,” Suicide King argues. “It’d make for a nice Cinderella story but remember that Cinderella was just that - a story.”

 

Wildchild reaches across the ring and makes the tag to Johnny Dangerous, who steps between the ropes to enter the ring as Wildchild scoops the challenger up off of the mat…

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

 

… And slams him back down to the mat!

 

“A scoop and a slam,” shouts Francis. “A rare display of power by the Wildchild!” Johnny turns to face Wildchild and grabs him by the hand. He whips his partner towards the edge of the ring but the Bahama Bomber reverses, sending the Barracuda to the ropes instead!

 

“What are these two up to,” Mak wonders out loud as Johnny bounces off the ropes. Wildchild ducks down to lift Johnny into the air with a backdrop and the Barracuda sails HIGH overhead…

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

 

… And crashes into Szechstein with an elevated Senton Splash!

 

“Big time senton by Johnny Dangerous!” the Franchise cries as Johnny rolls over and hooks the leg. “This match could be over right now!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH-NO! Calvin gets his shoulder up at two and a half, getting a sigh of relief from Zack Malibu, who already had one foot into the ring to come make the save. He steps back out onto the apron just as the referee shoots him a glaring look, “-and it appears that even Zack Malibu has no faith in his team. He doubts his own partner’s ability to escape the pin,” Suicide King happily notes.

 

“I don’t know if he’s actually doubting per say, but possibly Zack knows that he’s going to have to get in there and force something to happen,” says Francis. “The Cadillac Boys need to start pulling out all the stops!”

 

Calvin pushes up to his hands and knees, but is knocked right back down to the mat when the Barracuda drops an elbow across his spine. Johnny quickly bolts up to his feet, pivots with his elbow draw out, and drops it across Cadillac’s back once more! Again Johnny stands, and like previously, extends his elbow out and falls backwards, but this time Calvin wisely rolls out of the way and the Barracuda’s elbow hits nothing but canvas!

 

“Johnny made one too many trips to the well right there and now Szechstein has some breathing room,” says Francis. “Calvin has got to use this chance to make a tag!”

 

Zack hollers at Calvin to try and get him moving, but so far Cadillac has only made it up to his knees. He’s visibly woozy from all the punishment he’s absorbed but he still knows he hasn’t much time – it’ll take a lot more than a missed elbow drop to slow down the Barracuda. He quickly checks over his shoulder and sees that Dangerous is up and he frantically scrambles to his feet, staggers towards his corner-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-But Johnny races past him and sends an elbow flying into Malibu’s face before Calvin can make the tag! Cadillac drops to his knees, distressed as the crowd roars at the move and Zack, livid, steps into the ring to sink his claws into the Barracuda’s hide! Unfortunately, for Malibu, the referee blocks his path and orders him back out of the ring as Johnny hammers Calvin in his back to drop him to the mat!

 

“That was just brilliant strategy by the Barracuda to keep the fresh man out of the ring,” cheers King. Johnny pulls Szechstein up with a arm-lock then whips him across the ring, into the ropes. Dangerous takes off across the ring, picking up some serious steam as Calvin rebounds and sweeps his arm out for a huge lariat but Szechstein ducks down, narrowly escaping the lariat’s path! A few cheers surprisingly echoes out of the pro-SWF crowd and ‘Cadillac’ Calvin Szechstein heads towards the opposite ropes, picking up some steam for himself! By the time the Barracuda slams on the breaks, plants his foot, and spins back around, Szechstein is already on the rebound, this time under his own power! He charges at the secret agent, looking to land the biggest blockbuster of all time when Johnny suddenly leaps up and plants the soles of his shoes into Szechstein’s chest!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“Calvin Szechstein tried to make something happen there but he just couldn’t get it off in time,” says Mak Francis as Szechstein goes into the canvas harshly! Moving swiftly, Johnny drops over Calvin, hooking the leg as Herrington slides in to count for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH-NO! Calvin still manages to kick out under his own power, but even if he wouldn’t have been able to Zack Malibu would have surely broken up the pin. He stops just short of running over Johnny and Herrington jumps up, growling at Malibu to return to his apron.

 

“Zack is really letting it known that he has absolutely no confidence in his partner,” Suicide King says. Malibu heads back without argument, knowing that he can’t afford to be a distraction for his team even as frustrated as he is. He steps back onto the outside apron as Johnny picks Calvin up, applies a front face lock and walks him to the corner to tag Wildchild back in.

 

“Another tag by Wild and Dangerous,” notes King. “I hope the Cadillac Boys are taking notes here; this is the way you win tag team matches.”

 

“I’m almost positive they’d make the tags if they could,” replies Mak, “but Wild and Dangerous are doing an incredible job of cutting the ring in half and keeping all the heat on one man. They’re not giving the Cadillac Boys much of a chance.”

 

“Nor should they!” snaps King. “The only way you get a chance is by taking them and making good on it.”

 

Wildchild steps into the ring and immediately drives his knee into Calvin’s chest as the Barracuda holds him in the face-lock. He drops down with his hand clutching his chest before getting pulled to his feet by both Wild and Dangerous. They wrap their arms around his head then reach down, grabbing him by the side of his RC Cola tights to lift him in a vertical suplex and stall…

 

*WHAM!*

 

…and then they fall back, slamming Szechstein into the canvas neck-and-shoulders first! Johnny exits to the apron, leaving Wildchild to make the cover with a lateral press for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH-NO! Herrington jumps up to wave off the fall, pointing at Szechstein’s leg draped over the bottom rope! Again, Malibu is in the ring but stops when he sees that Szechstein has made it out of the pin and quickly retreats to the apron without Herrington having to even utter a word.

 

“Man, you can just see the frustration on Zack’s face,” says Francis. “He wants to get in there badly.”

 

“We’ll it has to be irritating to have to stand on the apron, unable to help your team out on the brink of loosing,” adds King. Calvin sits up on his posterior, trying to gather his bearings when Wildchild comes from behind, sits down, and wraps his legs around Szechstein’s torso for a body scissor lock, and starts applying the pressure.

 

“You can tell how confident Wild and Dangerous are when Wildchild starts using submission holds on people,” Suicide King comments. Herrington drops to his knees and asks Szechstein if he yields but Cadillac tells him no in words that can only be described as being peppered with profanity! Wildchild leans back and bridges to add more pressure but Calvin is still too stubborn to give in.

 

“I’ll say one thing,” says Francis. “You really have to give it up to the Cadillac Boys for their resilience alone. They’ve taken everything Wild and Dangerous has thrown at them and still keep getting back up!”

 

“I’m not giving up a damn thing to these outsiders!” the Gambling Man growls in response. Malibu, growing tired of simply watching, turns to the crowd and starts trying to get them on the Cadillac Boy’s side. his effort doesn’t seem to have much effect on this pro-SWF crowd so he turns back around and starts pounding on the turnbuckle padding!

 

“COME ON, CALVIN!” Malibu shouts across the ring. Finally, Szechstein leans forward and grabs the rope forcing the referee to call for a break. Wildchild releases his hold but Calvin holds on to the ropes for dear life, just in case the Bahaman tries to try something else. He uses the ropes to finally stand under his own power and reaches his arm out towards Malibu, who is, unfortunately, halfway across the ring in his corner. Malibu waves his partner towards him as a small chant starts up in the pro-SWF crowd, a chant for Zack Malibu to get into the ring.

 

“MAL-I-BU!”

“MAL-I-BU!”

“MAL-I-BU!”

“MAL-I-BU!”

 

“You’ve got to be absolutely shitting me!” King shouts incredulously, looking back and forth at the fans whom now seem to like the OAOAST’s biggest draw and who can blame them, Zack has to be the easiest guy in the universe to like, SWF or not.

 

Calvin Szechstein hobbles off the ropes, trying as he might to make it to his corner. However, Wildchild isn’t about to just let him tag in Malibu while he stands idly and he quickly grabs Calvin by his arm and whips him into the corner manned by Johnny Dangerous! Calvin slams into the post chest-first then stumbles back as the Caribbean Cruiserweight races in from behind and jumps up, wrapping his legs around Szechstein’s head for a victory roll but Calvin quickly, and desperately heaves the Bahaman off his shoulders as hard as he can, and Wildchild’s chest lands across the top rope!

 

“OOOOOOOOOH!”

 

“A heck of a reflexive counter by Calvin Szechstein!” calls Mak. “He might be able to finally make a tag to Zack Malibu now!”

 

Calvin begins to hobble off toward his corner as the crowd starts getting a little worked up in anticipation of Malibu entering the match. However, all Johnny has to do to get back in is stretch a little and slap his partners back, which he does and then leaps into the ring! He chases after Calvin but Szechstein knows that he’s coming and instinctively turns and ducks to dodge the blow that he knows is coming! As expected, Johnny’s arm sails over Cadillac’s head but he was planning on just a reaction from Calvin. Johnny stops just behind Szechstein, waiting for him to turn around and face him and then spins completely around with a spinning heel kick that finds its way directly into Szechstein’s face!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“OOOOOOOOOH!”

 

“I think I saw a tooth go flying into the stands!” King hollers as Calvin staggers, dazedly turning away from the Barracuda in a hopeless attempt to get back to his corner. All he can do is sadly hold his arm out towards Malibu before he drops down to his knees then finally drops forward, face-down into the canvas. Johnny drops to his knees, rolls Calvin over and then applies a lateral press for:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

*WHAM!* Zack Malibu’s boot slams into the small of the Barracuda’s back, effectively breaking up this attempted cover at two and a half but not doing much damage in the process. Angered, Johnny bolts up to his feet ready to bury his knuckles deep into Malibu’s skull, but Herrington cuts off the secret agents path to his other opponent and barks at Zack to return to his corner! Johnny keeps his eyes locked on Malibu and doesn’t notice Szechstein moving, which is why Calvin so easily reaches between the Barracuda’s legs from behind and pulls him down and onto his shoulders with a elementary schoolboy, “-and Calvin Szechstein just might steal a victory here!” Mak shouts as the referee slides in to count for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

TH-NO! Johnny rolls out of the pinning attempt at two and a half, and is completely flabbergasted at himself! He doesn’t even think to stop Calvin from scrambling towards Zack Malibu and finally making the tag!

 

“YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

“Malibu is finally the legal man!” says Francis as the crowd roars in approval of Malibu getting in the ring. Zack storms towards the Barracuda, meeting Dangerous just as he gets to a vertical base with a right hand to the face! Johnny’s head is rocked back from the blow and he stumbles with it, visibly stunned enough for the Prep Star to grab Johnny by his wrist and send him across the ring, towards the ropes with an Irish whip! NO! Johnny might be a little stunned but he can still slam on the breaks and reverse the whip, which is exactly what he does, sending Zack for the ride instead! Malibu heads across the ring, hits the ropes, and Johnny leaps into the air to plant the soles of his shoes deep into Zack’s chest! Unfortunately, Zack reaches around the ropes and clings onto them so there is no return for him and Johnny comes down to the mat, landing flat on his ass after drop kicking the wind!

 

Johnny jumps back up to his feet and tosses out a left hook as Zack charges for him, but Malibu brings up his forearm to block the punch and then cuts into the Barracuda’s chest with a series of eye-watering knife-edged chops!

 

*SMACK!* “WHOOOOO!”

*SMACK!* “WHOOOOO!”

*SMACK!* “WHOOOOO!”

*SMACK!* “WHOOOOO!”

*SMACK!* “WHOOOOO!”

 

“And the Cadillac Boys have finally got the momentum swung back in their favor,” notes Francis. Every chop that Zack lands into Johnny’s chest backs him up a step, and he keeps chopping until he has the secret agent backed into the ropes and reeling! Johnny clutches his burning chest but Zack isn’t about to stop and give him any breathing room. He grabs Johnny by the arm and whips him into the ropes adjacent the Cadillac Corner, then waits for Dangerous to bounce back off the ropes before charging at him and diving towards him with a flying shoulder block!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Johnny is forcibly driven into the canvas and Zack lands on top of him. Wasting no time, Malibu cradles Dangerous’ leg and the referee moves in to count for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

*WHAM!* Wildchild snaps the heel of his foot into the back of Malibu’s head to end the pin attempt at two and a half! Like beforehand with Malibu, Herrington bolts up to his feet and orders the Bahama Bomber out of the ring. He obliges, “-cause at least he knows his partner isn’t about to give up any more chances to the Cadillac Boys like he just did,” Suicide King says.

 

Wildchild returns to the outside ring apron as Zack reaches out and tags Szechstein back into the match. Surprisingly, Calvin steps through the ropes almost too eager for some payback now that they have the Barracuda on the ropes.

 

“I’m wondering if that was such a smart idea,” says King. “Calvin Szechstein was getting pounded for quite some time in that ring. Surely he hasn’t patched himself all up that fast.”

 

“They’ll be all right so long as they can isolate the Barracuda and cut him off from tagging Wildchild,” Francis replies. Calvin pulls Johnny up by the strands of his jet-black mane and then drops an elbow across the back of his neck, sending Dangerous to his knees.

 

“Looks like Szechstein is trying to show Johnny how those elbow drops of his might feel,” the Franchise adds as Calvin stands upright and stretches out his elbow. “He should remember what happened when Johnny went for one to many though.”

 

Before Szechstein has the opportunity to drop his elbow across the Barracuda’s neck a second time, the nimble secret agent quickly bolts upright and hooks his arm around Calvin’s extend arm and flips him to the mat with a textbook arm drag!

 

“Quick thinking by the Barracuda!” exclaims King. Calvin hits the mat and rolls back up to his feet, turns and freezes like a deer caught in the headlights when Johnny Dangerous’ fist flies at him and pastes him square in the mouth! Szechstein’s head is rocked on his shoulders but he quickly responds with a punch of his own, and the crowd starts getting worked into a frenzy as the two continue to trade blows back and forth! Finally, Johnny takes off to the far side of the ring, leaving Calvin in the middle of the ring, hits the ropes and comes rocketing~ back off of them!

 

“The pace is really starting to pick up now!” shouts Francis. Calvin isn’t about to let himself get snared into another beating by W&D, though – knowing that if he wants to win he’ll have to beat the Barracuda to the punch, Calvin steps forward to deliver on one of his patented lariats-

 

*WHOOSH~!*

 

-but Johnny ducks underneath the attempt, Szechstein’s arm lightly grazing the top of Dangerous’ hair as he misses, and the Barracuda goes straight for his corner and dives for his partners arm like someone diving through a window to escape a bomb blast, tagging the Wildchild for a massive pop!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

Wildchild springs into the ring and bolts towards Szechstein, but the second Calvin sees the Bahaman charging for him, he makes way to tag in Zack! He reaches out for the Prep Star’s outstretched hand… but before he can reach it, Wildchild grabs around Calvin’s waist from behind and drags him away from the corner. Calvin tries to resist but a few hammering punches to his back smothers that fire. Normally Wildchild wouldn’t have much of a chance to sling someone bigger than him around but with the punishment that Calvin’s already absorbed it’s a bit harder for him to put up a resistance, and he easily goes down with a waistlock takeover, putting him on his hands and knees!

 

“Here we go again,” says King, but before Wild and Dangerous can assert their control over Szechstein again, they’ll have to deal with Malibu. He comes racing in, tag or not, and knocks the Bahama Bomber off his partner! Zack grabs Wildchild in a facelock and drags him up to his knees with Herrington admonishing him the whole time. Thanks to the distraction from the referee, Zack doesn’t see the Barracuda racing in until Johnny is already in mid-flight to deliver a leaping roundhouse kick-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-and it catches the Prep Star directly in the side of the head! Zack is sent tumbling end over end, rolling across the mat and right under the bottom rope to the outside floor! Satisfied that Malibu has been dealt with, Johnny heads back to the apron and grabs onto the tag rope as Wildchild tags him in.

 

“I tell you what…Wild and Dangerous is simply putting on a tag team clinic,” gushes King. “I really hope that the rest of those OAOAST boys are watching this if they were planning to follow the Cadillac Boy’s footsteps.”

 

“You never know, they just might be,” replies Mak. Once more the Barracuda heads back into the ring, this time legal, and he heads towards Szechstein, coming in from behind. Johnny brings both arms up and clasps his hands together before bringing them down into Calvin’s back with a double axe handle to keep Calvin subdued. Ducking down, he shoves his head between Szechstein’s legs and lifts him up to the electric chair position as Wildchild springs onto a nearby turnbuckle, and the crowd stands to their feet!

 

“Dangerous Drop coming up!” the Franchise exclaims. Wildchild holds his arm out to the fans, getting them going even harder then looks back at his partner, only to see Calvin suddenly roll forward while hooking his feet underneath Johnny’s arms and flipping him completely over with a victory roll!

 

“OH, MY GOD! Victory Roll out of nowhere! He may have him!” Francis shouts as Calvin frantically grabs at Johnny’s legs to cradle him as Herrington races in and counts for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

“JESUS CHRIST!” As Wildchild flies through the air and plasters Szechstein in the chest with a dropkick from the turnbuckles, grabbing a huge cheer from the crowd and saving the match just as Herrington was three quarters into the two count! Calvin is sent rolling backwards and he stops on his knees with his face buried into the canvas, clutching his chest in pure agony!

 

“What a tremendous save from the Wildchild!” cheers King. “Reacting when a split-second decision could mean you win or lose is why this team is one of the best in the business—they know when to react and react they do!”

 

Mak just shakes his head amusedly. “What?” asks King.

 

“You cheering for Wild and Dangerous,” replies Mak. “I think my head is going to explode!”

 

“…”

 

Zack pulls himself together and gets back on the apron, and when he sees Calvin hunched over in the position that he’s in, Malibu knows it wasn’t good…at all. He calls out to Calvin and stretches his arm out towards him, but Szechstein is a good length away from being able to tag Malibu in. He pushes up off the mat and dazedly stands to his feet, but the second he takes one step forward is when Johnny grabs him by the arm! Moving quickly, Johnny steps forward to send Szechstein to the ropes with an Irish whip, but Calvin digs his heels into the mat and reverses, sending the Barracuda across the ring instead! Unlike the Barracuda’s intentions of whipping Calvin into the ropes through, Szechstein sends Johnny towards the corner post manned by Zack Malibu!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Johnny slams into the ring post back-first, and the sickening sound of bone cracking into steel rings out! He staggers out of the corner with a hand to his back, trying to flee the scene as Calvin reaches out and makes the tag to his partner. Unfortunately, Johnny’s only managed to put a few feet of distance between himself and the Cadillac Boys before Malibu can spring onto the top of the corner post and quickly leap off as the crowd watches in horror.

 

“We could be looking at the upset right here!” Mak shouts as Zack dives through the air towards the Barracuda and grabs him by the sides of his head for a monstrous bulldog, driving Dangerous’ skull deep into the canvas!

 

*WHAM!*

 

“That’s just wrong right there,” Suicide King roars in disbelief. The Barracuda’s skull bounces off the mat like a well aired basketball before finally landing on his back in a heap! Moving quickly, Zack floats onto Johnny and makes the cover, hooking the leg and rolling pack on it for extra leverage as Herrington slides in to count for…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE-NO! Johnny kicks out, earning a magnificent cheer from the Memphis crowd! He’s lucky though and he certainly knows it. He can’t let himself fall prey to an attack like that again, so he gets up as quickly as he possibly can and tries to make it to his corner. He only gets to the midway point of the ring when Zack blasts him from behind, knocking him on his knees. Malibu quickly grabs around his waist and hoists him up to his feet and then hauls him off the mat, planting him into the canvas with a German suplex and bridges for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

Wildchild quickly jumps to the top of the corner post…

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

…then leaps off, flipping over in midair…

 

 

 

 

THREEEE-*WHAM!*

 

“Bahaman Hangover! Bahaman Hangover!” shouts Francis as the Caribbean Cruiserweight lands his foot directly across Malibu’s sternum and breaks the pin just a fraction of a second from the three count! Zack rolls across the mat clutching his chest and just lies there; face down in the canvas as the crowd roars in approval of the match!

 

“These two teams just won’t stop! Three of the four men here are also competing in the Clusterfuck match, but I don’t know how they’ll be able to after this match,” Mak says.

 

Wildchild is back on the apron and Herrington makes a quick survey of the scene, checking that both men are down before delivering the dreaded ten-count!

 

“ONE!” the referee shouts while holding up one finger. The crowd really gets going, cheering loudly for these two motionless men.

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

Finally Johnny starts to move. He rolls over onto his stomach then pushes up to his hands and knees.

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

 

 

SIX!

 

 

Johnny gets up and makes a step towards his corner, but Malibu reaches out and grabs the Barracuda by his foot! Satisfied that both men can continue, Herrington ends the count just before seven and steps back as Zack pulls Dangerous’ foot out, sending him into the match face-first. Malibu stands up, still holding Johnny by his ankle, and puts pressure on it to force the Barracuda onto his back. Once he has Johnny over Zack plants a leg around Johnny’s, “-and it looks like Malibu is looking for a sharpshooter here! He refuses to quit fighting!” shouts Francis.

 

However, the Barracuda won’t let himself in this position without a fight and he quickly reaches up, grabbing around Malibu’s arm and rolls back…

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

 

…and directly into an inside cradle! Herrington drops in and counts:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE-NO! The Prep Star rolls off the shoulder to end the count at two and ¾, and the crowd begs for more! He rolls away from the Barracuda, and gets up to make a tag to Szechstein as Johnny crawls towards his corner. Zack gets to his side first and tags Calvin into the match while Johnny has yet to make his, which is just fine by Szechstein! He flies into the ring and makes a beeline towards the Wild and Dangerous corner to put a stop to their tagging, but he doesn’t make it in time. Johnny tags Wildchild and the Bahama Bomber vaults up to the top of the corner post and quickly dives off before Szechstein has the chance to put the breaks on! Wildchild dives through the air…

 

*WHAM!*

 

…and DRILLS Szechstein in the chest with a shoulderblock from the turnbuckles! Calvin is floored along with the Cadillac Boys’ momentum, and WC floats over Szechstein, hooking the leg to pin him for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE-NO! Herrington waves off the count, pointing towards Calvin’s leg draped over the bottom rope once again! Wildchild pounds his fist into the canvas and gets back up then reaches down to grab Calvin by the sides of his head and pull him to his feet. Ready to finally end this, Wildchild kicks his foot into Calvin’s gut, doubling him over and spiking a surge of cheers from the Memphis crowd!

 

“Wild Ride coming right up,” King says, slapping his hand against the announce table like a short order cook on a bell. Wildchild puts his back to Calvin as he steps one leg over Szechstein’s head and then reaches back to hook his arms, but Malibu races in and clocks the Caribbean in the head before he can go any further! Wildchild rocks back and-

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

-falls victim to ‘SCHOOLS OUT~!” Malibu’s patented superkick! As expected, Dangerous leaps into the ring and tackles Malibu in retaliation! The two tussle back and forth and roll under the bottom rope and out of the ring, falling to the thinly-padded floor!

 

“Malibu spoils the Wild Ride with School’s Out before getting knocked down by Dangerous and now both men have spilled out of the ring,” Francis reports. “It seems like nothing will stop these two teams!”

 

Herrington drops out of the ring to check on Malibu and Dangerous as neither one is moving on the outside. Inside, Calvin quietly slips out of the opposite side of the ring himself and heads around towards the announce table. Szechstein shoos Funyon away from the folding chair he’s sitting on and the ring announcer flees like a cockroach with the lights turned on. Calvin snatches the chair up and folds it shut with a loud clang, just so the crowd can have a sense of the raw power contained in this simple, yet extraordinary device and then heads towards the ring.

 

“Surely Calvin Szechstein doesn’t want to give this match away on a disqualification,” the Franchise pleads, “not after all the effort him and Zack have put into this match!”

 

“He knows it’s the only way a mediocre team like the Cadillac Boys can even hope to beat a powerful team like Wild and Dangerous,” replies King. “It’s also a testimony to the kind of trash that the OAOAST pumps out.”

 

Malibu apparently had his fall broken by Dangerous and is able to climb back in, leaving Johnny and the referee on the outside. He slides in as Calvin does the same, but is somewhat puzzled when he seems the chair in Szechstein’s hand. Calvin makes a motion with his hand at Malibu and he nods approvingly then slowly steps to the opposite side of the ring from Calvin.

 

“What the hell are these two planning?” wonders Mak.

 

“Nothing good, that’s what,” Suicide King angrily responds. Wildchild gets up to his feet and turns just in time to see Calvin racing towards his with the steel chair cocked back and ready to slam it into the Caribbean’s face! Wildchild knows there is no time to dodge it, even as quick as he may be, so he raises his arms up to protect himself from the blast… but Calvin tosses the chair over to Zack! Malibu races in to clock the Bahama Bomber as WC tries to quickly turn towards the new assailant, but nearly trips up on his own feet-

 

*WHAM!*

 

-and Calvin leaps at WC from behind, grabbing around his neck and dropping him for a reverse diamond cutter!

 

“IT WAS A TRICK! THE CADILLAC BOYS JUST OUTSMARTED WILD AND DANGEROUS!” Francis has to shout into his mouthpiece to be heard over the fans, all of who are on their feet booing horrendously! “They managed to throw Wildchild off balance with some simple tomfoolery and nailed a reverse Diamond Cutter! This match is over!”

 

Calvin drops down and applies the lateral press, smiling through his teeth as he does. Zack quickly slings the chair under the bottom rope and out of the ring before alerting the referee of the pin. Herrington scrambles back into the ring and counts as the fans look on in horror!

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

Wild and Dangerous, even as experienced as they are can’t count a team out no matter how small they might seem to be…

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

… It isn’t how well known you are, or how big your icon is. This time it’s all about the small fish that conquered the big pond with strategy and their will to keep fighting against all odds…

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOO! Herrington jumps up and waves off the count once more, pointing out that Wildchild’s foot is touching the rope. Not by his own will but by sheer coincidence, but it’s enough to keep this match from ending in the Cadillac Boy’s favor, and the crowd roars in approval!

 

“What luck the Wildchild has tonight,” says Mak, clearly sweating bullets. King nods in approval as he wipes his own brow, but inside the ring it’s not such a relief from Calvin Szechstein. In fact, Szechstein is absolutely livid! He argues with Herrington that the match is his but the referee is firm in his decision and refuses to alter anything. Stomping over to Wildchild, who is up and leaning against the ropes, he knows this has to end now and he plans to do just that! Zack tries to call out to Szechstein from the turnbuckle, insisting that Calvin tag him in but the OAOAST’s former World Champion waves him off. He knows that he has this one, plus he can see the Barracuda creeping up on Malibu from behind!

 

Johnny reaches up and grabs Zack, pulling him off the apron and then slamming his fist into the Prep Star’s jaw. He’s not aware of how close his team just came to loosing but his faith in his partner’s ability to pull it out alone is blind, and Johnny chooses to concentrate on putting Malibu down permanently! Meanwhile, Cadillac grabs Wildchild by his arm, pulls him off the ropes and spins him around only to get a foot sunk into his abdomen! Once more, and probably desperately, the Caribbean Cruiserweight turns around and steps over Cadillac’s head, looking for a Wild Ride but Szechstein quickly ducks out and shoves WC away!

 

“Everyone is just grasping the air for something here, anything that will seal the victory,” says Francis. “It’s down to who will make the first mistake!”

 

“Just like I told you from the start,” adds King. “It’s coming down to the wire and this is where the experience of a seasoned team will cut through the challengers like a hot knife through butter!”

 

On the outside fist are flying fast and furiously until both men are barely able to stand! Zack and Johnny are both forced to take a quick knee before reaching out, grabbing at one another to get another lick in! Finally, Malibu cranks his elbow into the Barracuda’s jaw, stunning the secret agent and hopefully stunning him long enough to finish him off! Malibu grabs Johnny by the back of his head and slams it into the ring apron, and his head bounces off the apron and rocks him backwards!

 

“Watch out!” hollers Francis as Johnny falls into the announcers table while Wildchild makes way across the ring in front of Dangerous. WC can see that his partner is in a little bit of a struggle but he knows that Johnny can pull it out so he doesn’t take flight over the tope rope, plus he can feel the mat rumbling as Calvin races in from behind! Ducking down quickly, Wildchild escapes another one of Szechstein’s big lariat attempts, “-and he nearly took Wildchild’s head clean off his shoulders!” the Franchise shouts.

 

Wildchild waits for Szechstein to turn around and when Calvin frantically turns to face WC before a fatal mistake is made-

 

*SMACK!* “WHOOOOOOOO!”

 

-is when the Bahama Bomber unleashes a searing knife-edged chop directly to Cadillac’s face! Szechstein stumbles around, stunned, unintentionally putting his back to the Caribbean’s, and WC shoves his opponent into the ropes! Almost simultaneously Malibu grabs Johnny by the arm to pull him off the announcers table and then steps forward, whipping him towards the ring post…but not before Johnny can slam on his breaks and reverse the whip, sending Zack Malibu for the ride instead-

 

*CRACK!*

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!”

 

“-and Zack Malibu goes head-first into the cold, unforgiving steel post!” Suicide King exclaims as Malibu’s face hits the post and then ricochets off, sending his body tumbling to the concrete floor. “Zack won’t be able to blame anyone but himself for that one either,” the Gambling Man continues. “If he hadn’t tried to whip Johnny into the post first he wouldn’t have wound up face down in a pool of his own blood!”

 

After WC shoves Calvin into the ropes he quickly reaches around Szechstein’s waist from behind for a waistlock before falling backwards into a rolling cradle!

 

“HE’S GOT HIM!” King shouts as the audience lets out a booming cheer… but before the Caribbean can secure the cradle, Calvin rolls through, taking Wildchild with him and pinning his shoulders to the mat instead! Everyone’s mouth drops in shock and Herrington drops to count for:

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

Johnny barely sees the pin in time and he scrambles towards the ring, “-and the Barracuda just dove into the ring, under the bottom rope!” shouts Francis. “He’s going to try and break up this pin but I don’t think he can get there in time!”

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

Johnny jumps to his feet and sprints towards Calvin! Szechstein sees him but just closes his eyes, knowing that he’ll take a hit…but the match is his!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

 

“YEAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

 

 

 

Herrington nearly pulls his arm out of his socket trying to stop the count, and he does with his hand hovering a centimeter over the canvas when Johnny scrambles into the ring , jumps up and lands a basement dropkick into Calvin Szechstein’s jaw to the joy of thirty thousand!

 

 

“HE GOT THERE! JOHNNY MADE IT IN THE NICK OF TIME!”

 

Calvin, stunned, falls backwards from the hit and Wildchild rolls through! Once more Wildchild finds himself on the right side of a rolling cradle for the pin only this time he secures it, bridging backwards as the referee counts and Johnny stands idly, counting with Herrington and the crowd for:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

 

 

 

“YEAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

 

 

 

“They’ve done it!” shouts Francis, clenching his fist in excitement as both WC and Johnny roll out of the ring. “What a match this was and what a hard fought but satisfying victory for Wild and Dangerous! They escape the Pyramid here tonight with a win!”

 

“I told you so,” is all the Suicide King can add, but it wasn’t like anyone was disagreeing with him anyway. “Manifest” pumps loudly through the speakers in celebration of their victory, and Herrington stands both men up then grabs their arms to declare them the victors.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” bellows Funyon. “The winner of this match by pinfall is WILD! AAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!” Zack slides back into the ring to attend to his partner, and the two men glare menacingly outside the ring towards their rivals.

 

Meanwhile, Wildchild and Johnny glance at each other with faces that show mixtures of relief and astonishment. “I just have to echo my earlier statement that this was a hell of a match tonight,” says Francis. “Both teams gave it there all and it was a lot closer than what I and a lot of people would have predicted from the beginning.”

 

“It doesn’t matter how close it was! Nobody is going to mark an asterisk in the record books to say they won but it was close,” says King. “Wild and Dangerous did what they had to do and got the job done.”

 

“Come off it, King!” admonishes Mak. “Look at the looks on Wildchild and Johnny’s faces; even THEY know that they stole one here tonight! The Cadillac Boys gave them all they could handle and, as great as we know they are, I think that they were lucky to come away with the win tonight!”

 

“Well, the Cadillac Boys made them sing for their supper, I’ll give them that much,” concedes King. “But, when it all came down to it, the two pretty boys represented SWF with flying colors here tonight!”

 

“King, you talk about singing for their supper,” adds Mak, “these guys have to be exhausted! And they’re still scheduled to compete in the Clusterfuck later tonight! Will they even have the energy to compete?”

 

Wild and Dangerous head out of the ring and start making their way towards backstage. Tonight they beat a team that everyone said they should…and a team that everyone said didn’t belong in a SWF ring, but the Cadillac Boys were a team that Wild and Dangerous knew they couldn’t overlook… Even so, as tough as the Cadillac Boys proved to be, Wild and Dangerous were able to come away victorious. And now they feel like they can focus on the one item that this team made their legacy with—the SWF Tag Team Championship…

 

The Cadillac Boys, on the other hand, are of a slightly different opinion; they feel like they got cheated, and they squeeze their thumbs and index fingers together to illustrate how close the match truly was! They continue to glare bitterly towards the forms of their retreating opponents…

 

 

As We:

FADE OUT

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FADE IN…

 

 

 

“While most consider the actual Clusterfuck to be tonight’s Main Event that takes nothing away from the contest we are about to see!”

 

 

 

“I agree Francis and you know how much it pains me to say that!”

 

 

 

“Well lets’ get to it, King!” Mak says. “It’s the champion, Gabriel Drake against the Cold Front Classic winner and number one contender, JJ Johnson for the SWF World Heavyweight Title-”

 

 

 

“-And it’s happening right now!” King cuts in when suddenly…

 

 

 

“Slaves shall serve as the crowns are falling!

As the apocalypse is nearing!

Slaves shall serve as the inferior life force and as undead rivals!”

 

*BOOOM!*

 

Behemoth’s “Slaves Shall Serve” roars to life as a tremendous blast of pyro goes off at the entranceway, the lights blazing red and white as through the smoke strides JJ Johnson. With Nergal launching into his first verse (Father of Terror! Abu Ol-Hol!) and the light reflecting in his sunglasses, the Canadian strides down to the ring.

 

 

 

“JJ Johnson is looking primed for the match of his life tonight and he’ll need to have it to defeat this man about to come through the curtain…”

 

 

 

JJ slides into the ring and pops to his feet, moving into his corner, all business as he waits… but he doesn’t have to wait long as suddenly, the Smarktron flares to life, flashes from The Beasts debut vignettes splashing across the screen, as the deliberate strum of ‘The Devil’s Rejects’ begins to build to a crescendo. Gabriel Drake’s two cold hazel eyes stare out from the Smarktron, an amused sneer crossing his face for a second before one hand reaches out and grips presumably the camera. The picture shakes violently, then blurs and cuts to black as the camera is apparently thrown into a wall. Meanwhile, the slow melody continues and the atmosphere is even amplified by the eerie menacing blue light and the flickering of several white strobes cutting across the darkened arena, until finally…

 

“JAAAAAIIIIIL-BIIIIIRD!”

 

…through all the bright lights, glitz and glammer; face framed by his black hair with white highlights…

 

“JAAAAAIIIIIL-BIIIIIRD!”

 

…with his SWF World Title wrapped around his waist…

 

“JAAAAAIIIIIL-BIIIIIRD!”

 

…Gabriel Drake himself appears through the curtain.

 

“I am the bad one…

Distant and cruel one…

I am the dream that, keeps you running down!”

 

Hearing the opening lyrics of the Rob Zombie song, Drake pauses on the stage for a moment, looking around the arena spotting each and every single fan attempting to taunt him as mercilessly as they can! Gabe smiles wide and then proceeds to saunter down towards ringside.

 

“And speak of the devil…” Mak Francis responds to King’s last comment. “The SWF World Heavyweight Champion, Gabriel Drake in his second title defense will have a hell of a test!”

 

“With distraction…

Violent reactions…

Scars of my actions, watch me running out!”

 

The Smarktron behind him continues to flash scenes from famous wars and bits of destruction while showing him hitting a Musclebuster on Michael Cross, twisting Akira’s broken body in the Spite and Malice and deforming Landon Maddix’s feature by tossing him into a Steel Cage interspersed…

 

“HELL DOESN’T WANT THEM!

HELL DOESN’T NEED THEM!

HELL DOESN’T LOVE THEM!”

 

…Until a final picture of the newly infamous leap off the second rope with Michael Stephens in tow, compacting his jaw with a sickening Mark of the Beast!

 

Now at ringside, Drake gets to the ring steps and bounces on his toes before high stepping up the stairs and onto the apron! Walking to the center, he brings his hands down to frame the World Title on his waist and leans back, living in the moment!

 

“The Devil's Rejects…

 

The Devil’s Rejects…”

 

The music slowly begins to fade, as Gabe wipes his feet before swinging his legs through the ropes. Eying up his opponent, Drake walks to the middle of the ring and looks down at the somewhat smaller man who has not backed down at all.

 

 

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this your Main Event!” Funyon bellows. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation Heavyweight Championship of the WOOOOORRLLLDDDDDDD!”

 

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

 

 

 

Funyon takes a breath and looks to his left.

 

 

 

“Introducing first, in the corner to my left!” He begins. “In the forest green trunks! He is the challenger; from Windsor… Ontario, Canada, weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty-eight pounds! This is the Canadian Murder Machine, J! J! JOHN-SOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNN!”

 

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

 

 

“And his opponent, in the corner to my right!” Funyon turns to face Drake. “In the red trunks with black trim! He is the champion; from Athens, Georgia, weighing in tonight at two hundred and fifty-eight pounds! He is the reigning and defending… SWF World Heavyweight Champion! This is the ‘BEAST’, GAAAAAAB-RI-EELLLLLL… DRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

Kivell sends both men back to their respective corners, as Funyon exits the ring. Taking the strap from Drake and raising it high above his head for all to see, the referee then hands it over to the timekeeper and asks for the bell…

 

 

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

 

 

Gabriel Drake and JJ Johnson unlock eyes at the shrill sound of the bell and begin to circle each other, Johnson feinting a shoot at the champions left leg. Gabe stops, backpedaling slightly before continuing on his course and then waving his opponent into a grapple. Finally, the two come together in a collar and elbow tie-up to start and Drake overpowers JJ pushing him back a few steps before disengaging the lock-up, noticing Johnson’s attempt to gain wrist control. The Canadian Murder Machine rushes back into the grapple, but Drake overwhelms him yet again, shoving Johnson into the corner. Kivell steps in between the two and gets anything but a clean break as both men parry open hand swats at each other to protect against a clean strike!

 

 

 

“That’s about as close to a clean break as I expect to see.” The Franchise notes. “These guys are warriors and they have no qualms about taking it right to one another.”

 

 

 

Drake is barely able to back away before Johnson explodes from the turnbuckle into another tie-up. This time Gabe uses JJ’s vigor to his advantage and lifts his arm before grabbing a side headlock! Grinding in the hold, the Beast smiles out at the crowd, ready to display the same dominance that he did over the Insane Luchador. Feeling Johnson begin to pry at his hands, Gabriel releases Johnson’s head, throwing the former Ultimate Fighter off balance as he smoothly spins, transitioning into a rear waistlock! Lifting JJ into the air, Drake slams the challenger onto the mat face first right into the referee’s position. Shoving Johnson down, the champion rotates overtop amateur-style practically rubbing JJ’s nose into the canvas before slapping him on the top of his head! Done taunting, the champion locks on a front headlock and sandbags in complete control and the crowd lets him have it:

 

 

 

“YOU CAN’T WRES-TLE!” *Clap-clap-clapclapclap!*

 

 

 

“YOU CAN’T WRES-TLE!” *Clap-clap-clapclapclap!*

 

 

 

“YOU CAN’T WRES-TLE!” *Clap-clap-clapclapclap!*

 

 

 

“YOU CAN’T WRES-TLE!” *Clap-clap-clapclapclap!*

 

 

 

Gabe’s response to this:

 

 

 

‘Who’s the one on the fuckin’ mat?’

 

 

 

“Some nice chain wrestling from Gabriel Drake, but the crowd doesn’t agree. Taunts aside, let me tell you that this crowd has seen the champ wrestle and while he’s no mat wizard—nobody can deny he’s very solid on this canvas!” Mak states as JJ attempts to rise and gets nowhere. “I’ve used that particular hold on many wrestlers over my career and a front headlock from that position places tremendous pressure on the back of someone’s neck-”

 

 

 

“-Could you talk yourself up any more, Francis?” King cuts in. “I mean really, why don’t you just mumble incoherently reliving your glory years and let your announce partner call the damn match!”

 

 

 

“Yeah, I could do that, but then I’d be you.” The Franchise responds as an aside, while JJ grunts pushing at the nearly two hundred sixty pounds of Gabriel Drake and getting himself to a knee. Slowly standing as Drake pounds him with a clubbing blow to the neck, Johnson laces his back leg with the champion’s and sweeps forward, rolling into a modified cradle, pinning Gabe to the mat. Kivell falls into position for the count…

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

…but Drake kicks out off his shoulders causing Johnson to spring away!

 

 

 

“JJ’s time abroad served him well there, as he counters the front headlock with a sort of a reverse Russian leg sweep into that cradle!” Mak says unsure if his description did the move justice. “I’ve never seen that before!”

 

 

 

“Do your homework, Francis!” King says smiling at the chance to upstage his partner. “That’s the Gannosuke clutch!”

 

 

 

“How in the hell do you know that?!”

 

 

 

“Because Mr. Gannosuke himself is the proprietor of a fine muscle therapy establishment that I frequent…”

 

 

 

Mak is left speechless as Johnson quickly jumps to his feet. From a knee, Gabriel Drake stares a hole into the Canadian Murder Machine and then they both collide in another collar and elbow tie-up. The Beast, having a lack of leverage from his angle of attack realizes this quickly and breaks suddenly, grabbing at JJ’s hand and gaining wrist control by bending the appendage inwards! Gabe loops underneath while he twists Johnson’s arm in a wringer, which forces the challenger to lean forward to relieve the pressure and then Drake yanks down twice trying to pull the limb out of its socket! JJ falls to the mat, patting his shoulder as he attempts to regain his vertical base. Grinning from his position of power, the champ torques the wrist pushing Johnson down even more and then as the challenger braces himself with his right hand, Gabe steps on his fingers causing him to fall face first to the canvas! The Beast lets out an unbridled laugh, while JJ shakes out his hand and snarls on the mat…

 

 

 

“Drake has been trying to run the game he did on Andrew Rickmen in his first title defense, but Johnson is not someone to toy with, King.” Francis notes. “Each time the champion has underestimated him, he’s ended up on his back!”

 

 

 

…And this clearly pisses the Canadian off! JJ forcefully slides to a knee, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and then walks into the pressure, negating Drake’s torque before somersaulting forward in a handspring to throw off Gabe’s equilibrium! Johnson ends up face to face with the Beast and the elbow he hurls towards the bridge of Drake’s nose-

 

 

 

*Thump…slap!*

 

 

 

-is blocked and surprise now registered on JJ’s face is not only from that fact, but the sheer gall of Drake smacking him across the cheek like he’s some bitch!! Gabe floats backwards on his toes, hands raised in the air and a shit-eating grin on his face, while Johnson rubs his jaw, eyeing Drake with a livid expression!

 

 

 

“See Francis, that’s where you’re wrong!” King crows, pleased with the scene. “Gabe’s not taking Johnson too lightly. He was obviously prepared for that elbow and if treating Mr. Cold Front Classic like an abused housewife gets the job done then so be it!”

 

 

 

Incensed, JJ rushes straight towards his opponent, cocking back his right elbow and running right into a deep arm drag! Popping back up to his feet, Johnson dashes ahead in a straight line, sizing up Gabe for a collision with his elbow not to dissimilar from a car stuck on the train track… but once again, Drake deftly avoids the strike, slinging the challenger onto the mat!

 

 

 

“I see your point, King.” Mak says, as Gabriel looks out at the crowd and points to his head, sure Johnson’s got the idea by now. “These mind games have JJ telegraphing those vicious strikes of his-”

 

 

 

But JJ has no qualms about running headlong into weak takedowns like an arm drag if he can get Drake overconfident. The Beast turns around expecting Johnson to have backed away, but JJ is blaring full speed ahead, giving him a chance to leap into the air sticking his right leg out while driving his knee into the surprised mush of Gabriel Drake!!

 

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

 

 

“-GODDAMN!” Francis shouts interrupting his own thought. “Telegraphed or not, what a Busaiku knee kick!”

 

 

 

Gabe flops head over heels from the ferocious knee and his hands quickly go up to his face, while Johnson smirks giving the crowd a barely perceptible nod! Now standing tall, JJ looks down at his stunned adversary who is now on his knees, but still shielding his face! Drake blinks in pain while the challenger lifts him up and snitches in a side headlock of all moves.

 

 

 

“What the hell?” King says, as JJ marches Gabe center ring. “After all of that he goes to a headlock? I like JJ, but that’s just stupid…”

 

 

 

As the former Ultimate Fighter grinds in the hold, wrenching Gabe’s neck while he wrings his arms around the challenger’s head, Drake reaches up and tries to pry his head free!

 

 

 

“You weren’t saying the same thing when Drake pulled this on IL.”

 

 

 

“Hey, ref he’s pullin’ the beard!”

 

 

 

Matthew Kivell admonishes Drake for the non-existent beard pull and this allows JJ to just standing there for a moment, basking in his plan, while Drake gets pissed off because he was just trying to break the hold legally! Increasing the pressure on the head of Gabriel Drake, Johnson grinds so hard that the Beast falls back to a knee!

 

 

 

“If you could wrestle then you’d get out of this hold, right?” JJ shouts. “That’s what you said to IL right?”

 

 

 

“This is classic, King!” Mak exclaims gleefully. “JJ Johnson has completely flipped the script from Drake’s match with Andrew Rickmen!”

 

 

 

The crowd seems to catch on to JJ’s plan and cheer the challenger on as he proceeds to debase the Beast by way of a side headlock:

 

 

 

“YOU CAN’T WRES-TLE!” *Clap-clap-clapclapclap!*

 

 

 

“YOU CAN’T WRES-TLE!” *Clap-clap-clapclapclap!*

 

 

 

“YOU CAN’T WRES-TLE!” *Clap-clap-clapclapclap!*

 

 

 

Gabriel Drake feeds of the audience’s jeers as clap along with the rhythmic chant, getting up to his feet and elbowing Johnson in the gut! Then twice! Then three times! Turning into Johnson, the Beast lands a punch to the challenger’s gut! And another! And one more finally frees Gabe from his grasp…

 

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

...but as he takes off the former Ultimate Fighter grabs at his hair yanking Drake back into the side headlock!

 

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

 

 

Drake slowly backs them into the nearest set of cables and forces the former Ultimate Fighter to release the hold. Running the ropes, JJ stops on a dime as he leaps over the champion who hit the mat on his belly. Johnson stamps down, firmly placing his boot on the back of the World Champion’s head, who kicks and screams under the assault but cannot move! Finally through messing with Drake, JJ stomps down implanting his already injured face into the mat!!

 

 

 

“I love Gabe like a son, Francis, but that’s some quality dickery from Mr. Cold Front Classic!”

 

 

 

Backing away from the champ, JJ chuckles to himself, but the Beast is doing anything but that. Standing up, Drake rolls his shoulders and prepares to charge the challenger, but spots something that halts him in his tracks… JJ has his elbow cocked and loaded! Quickly putting some space between him and Johnson, Gabe raises his hands in a defensive stance and circles around his opponent looking for an opening. The former Ultimate Fighter lowers his arm and cracks his neck; if Drake is looking to do some stand-up then Johnson will oblige him. The champion shoots forward attempting a single leg, but is cut off by a leg kick that forces him to back away! Gabe rubs his thigh, but continues to circle throwing jabs, which Johnson easily avoids, when he sees JJ step forward. Mr. Cold Front Classic puts his hands up to deflect another punch and fires off another sweeping kick, but this time Drake has his timing and after stepping back rushes ahead with his fist aimed at JJ’s jaw-

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

-but he doesn’t realize the kick was a ploy to get him to run into a sickening spinning reverse elboWii “SCREAMING ELBOW!” Mak well, screams as Drake is knocked loopy from the blow and is easy prey for JJ wrapping his arms around him before lifting him up-

 

 

 

*BOOM!*

 

 

 

-and suplexing Gabe onto his back with a belly-to-belly slam!

 

 

 

“The champion tried to take his time and get inside Johnson’s stand-up, but this guy was a former Ultimate Fighter and all Drake got was a screaming elbow to the nose and slammed to the canvas for his trouble!”

 

 

 

The champion feels all the wind rush from his lungs, as JJ tries to mount Drake, but realizing the seriousness of the situation, Gabe is able to get into a half-guard saving himself from the same fate as Landon Maddix at Crimson Yuletide!

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*THUMP!*

 

 

 

*THUMP!*

 

 

 

*THUMP!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*THUMP!*

 

 

 

*THUMP!*

 

 

 

*THUMP!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

Some of the blows find there way through Drake’s defenses, but JJ sees that he’s not accomplishing what he wanted. Stopping his assault, Johnson catches Gabe’s left arm and slides off to the side attempting to bar the limb! The champ’s eyes widen at the cross arm breaker attempt and he quickly latches his hands together saving himself from having his arm hyper extended!! Knowing that his grip could be broken at any minute, Drake scoots as fast as he can into the ropes for a break!!

 

 

 

“Gabe dodged one hell of a bullet there, Francis!” King says. “You’ve tapped to that hold like twenty times and all he has to suffer through is taking a tastycake break.”

 

 

 

“It was only one time you jackass—and I could really go for a tastycake…” The Philly native adds as an afterthought.

 

 

 

Senior Referee Matthew Kivell slides in between the two and Drake takes the opportunity to roll outside. Shaking out his arm as he travels around the ring, Gabe stops to catch a breather. JJ Johnson isn’t about to let that happen though… springing off the ropes and then diving through them forearm extended in an elbow suicida!! Landing on his feet with cat-like grace, the Canadian Murder Machine picks Drake up and then rolls him right back into the ring! Gabe crawls into the opposite corner pulling himself up using the ropes, while trying to gain some separation from the former Ultimate Fighter, but JJ climbs through the ropes and takes off in a dead sprint-

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

-hitting a jumping gamengiri that causes him to leap over the top rope! Drake falls to his but holding his face, as Johnson raises a fist to a cheer! Gripping onto that very same rope, JJ bends his knees and slingshots back overtop, catapulting into the corner with a basement dropkick!! Picking Gabriel up, Johnson tries to send the champ away in a cross corner whip, but Drake holds his ground! JJ pulls again, still encountering resistance so he stops that with two well place elbows to the champ’s jaWii

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

This time the whip is successful, but Drake plants his feet and reverses sending JJ into the corner! Following him in, Gabe notices as Johnson walks up the ropes to execute his Dragon flip and reaches back ensnaring the former Ultimate Fighter in a ¾ facelock, catching his leg as he somersaults pinning him onto his back!!

 

 

 

“He’s got him up for the Mark of the Beast out of nowhere!”

 

 

 

King says, surprised by how quickly momentum changed as Drake runs towards center ring, but Johnson wraps his arms around Gabe’s neck JJ, however, reaches back, trying to flip the former Ultimate Fighter over his own back and down to the mat, but Johnson keeps his center of gravity towards the ground, suddenly pulling the champion down to the mat, already having entangled him with a Body Scissors!

 

 

 

“This is the third time in as many matches that someone has countered Drake’s dreaded Cradle Stunner into a Rear Naked Choke, but this is the first time anyone has gotten the champ to the mat!” Mak notes, as Drake gasps in the hold. “JJ Johnson may have just won this match!”

 

 

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

 

The cheers from the crowd drown out any of Gabriel’s cries as he flays about wildly on the mat, Johnson lying beneath him, depriving him of air! Kivell leaps into action as he always does, checking on the Australian and asking him the question, but Drake replies, in his very distinct Southern accent:

 

“No fucking way.”

 

Johnson hears this, but it only spurs him on further, silencing his deviance and replacing it with a whimper as Drake slowly begins to fade… his outstretched hand almost looks ready to tap his opponent’s arm…

 

… But instead, the cunning champion grabs JJ’s leg out from underneath him, holding it tightly between both arms and wrenching it at ninety degrees with heel hook! Johnson’s expression suddenly changes from one of almost delight to one of horror as both men put an incredible amount of strain on one another, both refusing to let go… when finally Johnson releases the hold knowing that a broken leg would stop the match before a submission!

 

 

 

“Johnson knows that heel hook well having used it for much of his career and he realized that the odds were in Drake’s favor that time!”

 

 

 

Crawling away from Gabe, JJ pulls himself up to his feet using the ropes for support and spots Drake making his way to his feet as well. The two wrestlers’ stumble towards each other and the champion reaches around his head, placing him in a Muay Thai clinch-

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

-and cracks him in the face with a sharp knee! Johnson feels the third knee coming and knowing the only way to counter this stand-up maneuver, grabs a clinch of his own to protect himself, shielding his side with a raised knee! Placing that one on the ground JJ fires a knee of his own into Drake’s body-

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

-landing a clean blow! The two men battle from the clinch, each deflecting knees while moving back and forth in the ring, someone hoping to gain some sort of an advantage!

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

Until one blow sneaks through from Johnson, stunning the World Champion by catching him flush in the ribcage taking his already damaged wind! JJ releases the clinch and spins around behind his opponent encircling him in a back waistlock!

 

 

 

“DANGEROUS GERMAN!” Mak shouts, as the former Ultimate Fighter lifts Gabe, but the Beast counters wrapping his leg around Johnson’s. “No counter! Now he’s going to German him!”

 

 

 

Mak’s words are true, as Drake executes a standing switch and goes to lift Johnson, but JJ cracks him in the face with one stiff elbow breaking his grip and takes off for the ropes! Rebounding back, Johnson charges forward for a Cozy Lariat, but the Beast hoists him off the canvas and turns implanting JJ into the mat with a snap Spinebuster!!! Gabe rolls away still holding his throat from earlier, as he stands to a wave of boos:

 

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

Having curtailed this latest assault, the Beast stands over the Canadian Murder Machine, sticking his finger in his face, when JJ quickly grabs his left arm taking away all of his balance! Johnson takes his right leg and laces it around Gabe’s neck, while he swings the left one around Drake’s left arm, attempting something…

 

“A Triangle choke?!” Mak shouts out unsure himself, as parts of the crowd rise to see what’s going on. As his leg attempts and succeeds in clasping about the champion’s neck, it’s now clear to Mak that he is going for a triangle choke! “Flash submission by the former Ultimate Fighter!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

 

“Drake will counter!” King cries out, as the crowd cottons on to the action, cheering JJ. “I’m not worried…”

 

 

 

…Drake stacks Johnson on his back, but JJ instinctively raises a shoulder, so the Beast continues lifting the two hundred and twenty-eight pound challenger up into the air, with one arm! Kivell waves his hands, eyes going wide, as even the crowd shuts up seeing this counter.

 

“What strength shown by the champion!” Mak shouts, as Drake picks Johnson up and pins him up against the top turnbuckle, his face turning red from the effort! JJ feels Drake slipping as Kivell stands at there side, asking if he wants to give up! The Beast begins to blink looking like he’s falling in and out of consciousness…

 

 

 

“Gabe’s out! Gabe’s out! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…when suddenly, he falls to the mat, sending Johnson down at an awkward angle which drops him on the back of his head!!!

 

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

 

“No he’s not, Francis!” King responds, cringing as Kivell checks Drake’s hand for signs of life. “It does look like he went unconscious for a few seconds, but he’s lucid now! The one we should be worried about is JJ! He got drop on the top of his shinny dome!”

 

 

 

“Oh wow… I was so—yeah, JJ doesn’t look so hot…”

 

 

 

King’s words are proven as Kivell checks over Johnson, and sees the challenger’s glossed over eyes and lack of response…

 

 

 

“I think—maybe Kivell should stop the match, King…”

 

 

 

“JJ would literally kill him if he did that!”

 

 

 

Meanwhile Drake has crawled into the neutral corner and sits stalking JJ as he pushes himself up to his hands and knees, then up to his vertical base and takes off diving into the Canadian Murder Machine-

 

 

 

*WHAAAAAAAM!*

 

 

 

-just as he turns around with a Spear!!! JJ’s body whiplashes in midair while his head bounces of the canvas causing Drake to sit up from the impact and then taking a second, the champ falls back across Johnson’s body hooking the far leg…

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THR-

 

 

 

-but JJ fights a shoulder into the air through the cover!

 

 

 

“Drake gets two and a half and I’m really, honestly surprised the man kicked out, King!”

 

 

 

Gabe, still woozy from almost passing out, lifts the probably concussed challenger to his feet whacks JJ with a knee-lift and then rushes off to the far ropes, rebounding back for his patented Shotgun Lariat, but even in his debilitated state the former Ultimate Fighter ducks underneath the strike and wraps his arms around Gabe’s body in the set-up for an exploder suplex…

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

…but a single elbow to the back of the head is enough to throw off the weakened Johnson, who gets Pie-faced into the canvas on the back of his skull in an STO!! Standing over his downed opponent the Beast smiles haughtily! This match is his for the taking!

 

 

 

Grabbing Johnson in a front headlock the Beast yanks him up and pulls him towards center ring. Gabe pulls his knee back and just starts driving it repeatedly into the challenger’s head…

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

…and then double underhooks JJ’s arms, hoisting him overhead in a release Butterfly suplex!!! Crawling over to his bearded opponent, Drake falls into a lateral press! Kivell falls to the mat and counts…

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE-

 

 

 

-but Johnson kicks out barely shoving his opponent off him!! Drake sits up looking to Kivell who says JJ indeed got the shoulder up! Gabe stares a whole at the referee and then pushes himself to his feet! Grabbing the challenger by the beard (shocking! an actual beard pull this time!) Drake pulls Johnson up to his feet and whips JJ into the turnbuckles! Following him in Gabe raises his boot high and nails the former Ultimate Fight with a Yakuza kick to the face!! Slumping into the corner, JJ is easy prey as after taking off for the far ropes, Drake dives into Johnson with a running knee crushing his face in between himself and the turnbuckle!! Bending down, Gabe picks the Canadian up to his feet and then places him up on the top rope. Walking away to taunt the crowd, Drake suddenly shoots back into the picture-

 

 

 

*THWACK!*

 

 

 

-nailing JJ with a sickening leaping palm strike!! “The right hand of Gabe! That normally leads to a TOP ROPE superplex-”

 

 

 

“-But we’re about to see something different tonight!” King roars, as Gabe, stacking Johnson on his shoulders steps away from the corner and walk/runs towards center ring, pausing for a second before falling back in a devastating DEMORALIZING Musclebuster!!!!

 

 

 

*BANG!*

 

 

 

“MUSCLEBUSTER!” King screams. “He calls that manslaughter-”

 

 

 

“-and for good reason…”

 

 

 

Mak adds, while the crowd cringes badly, as Johnson lays after landing on his neck, but the surprising thing is he doesn’t go for the cover! Backing up, Gabe cocks his elbow back and waits for JJ to get to his feet…

 

 

 

“Oh, the irony!” King says crowing Drake’s praises. “He’s going to knock him on his ass with an elbow to pay him back for the House of Marvelous!”

 

 

 

Johnson struggles to his feet, not one to give up even in his current condition and as Drake charges with intentions on taking JJ out with the knockout blow, Johnson ducks swinging around behind and grabbing a back waistlock!!

 

 

 

“Another try at the DANGEROUS GERMAN…” Mak calls, but Drake rushes to the ropes to avoid the high angle German suplex! JJ using the momentum of Gabe hitting the ropes pulls him down in his Japanese clutch pin… but then rolls through showing some tremendous strength to lift Drake off the ground holding him in mid-air and then arching back in a nasty delayed German suplex!!! Holding the pin, Drake stays on his bridge while Kivell counts…

 

 

 

“A Dead-lift into German suplex with a bridge!” Mak calls. “That was amazing!”

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Drake kicks out of the bridge!! JJ, pissed off beyond belief that he didn’t put the champ away after such a big move, stumbles into the corner. Meanwhile in the center of the ring, Gabe stands up holding his head and Johnson sprints straight ahead letting out a primal scream before dropkicking the Beast so hard that he flies back into the turnbuckles behind him like wire-fu from a John Woo movie!!!

 

 

 

“Inhuman! JJ Johnson is inhuman and that-that dropkick, is proof!”

 

 

 

Pulling Drake out of the corner JJ drops into a cover…

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but Drake once again kicks out!!

 

 

 

“JJ’s fighting hard but he looks like he’s running out of gas and I think it’s time to put the Beast to sleep!”

 

 

 

Swooning, Johnson realizing he needs to put Drake down now and lifts Gabe into a fireman’s carry for the Go 2 Sleep, but Drake counters with knees to the head-

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

*CRACK!*

 

 

 

-and slips out the back door, grabbing the Canadian Murder Machine by the arm and yanking him into a-

 

 

 

*WHAAAAM!*

 

 

 

-sickening Shotgun Lariat!! Picking Johnson up to his feet, opens his hand and then rears back-

 

 

 

*THWAP!*

 

 

 

*THWAP!*

 

 

 

-landing two palm strikes to the face!! Spinning backward, Gabe lashes out-

 

 

 

*THWACK!*

 

 

 

-cracking JJ across the face with a spinning back fists to the mush! Lifting his leg up into the air Drake swings his foot up into the side of the former Ultimate Fighter’s face with a nasty high kick that hits the mark!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*THWAAAACK!*

 

 

 

 

 

Gabe grabs the staggering challenger and shoots into a double leg pickup, lugging JJ’s weight with him Gabe slowly stands… and then lowers Johnson down his back and off to the side, latching onto his head just before sitting out and slamming his neck into the canvas-

 

 

 

*BOOM!*

 

 

 

-in an Air Raid Crash!!!!!

 

 

 

“I’ve seen that move before from a teacher at the Blue Blood Academy!” King says, as Drake leans back into a cover. “For the last three matches Gabe’s given up his back to try and hit the Mark of the Beast and now, he’s used a move that doesn’t have that weakness!”

 

 

 

“The Celtic Cross is one hell of a move… with the condition JJ’s in this one is academic, folks!” Mak adds, as Kivell moves to count. “I wonder what he calls it…?”

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

 

 

 

 

*DING! DING! DING!*

 

 

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

 

 

‘The Devil’s Reject’s’ blasts forth from the PA system and Matthew Kivell retrieves the World Title from the time keeper! Drake sits up off Johnson, as Funyon makes the call:

 

 

 

“The winner of this match… and STILL your S-W-F WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… the ‘BEAST’, GAAAAAAB-RI-EELLLLLL… DRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

 

“Well, that’s it.” Mak says. “Drake pulls out the win and the Clusterfuck is up next. Who do you think his next opponent will be?”

 

 

 

“Damned if I know or care, because the Year of the Beast is in full swing and I doubt anybody can defeat the man here in the SWF, Gabriel Drake, for that title!”

 

 

 

King says, as Drake lifts the title high and climbs the turnbuckles to boos…

 

 

 

As We:

 

 

 

FADE…

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Music City, USA! Memphis Tennessee continues to play host to the once-a-year SWF tradition, the SWF Clusterfuck. And no offence to Wildchild or the guys in the World Title Match, but finally it's time for what everybody in Memphis paid their money to see, the 20 Man Clusterfuck Match itself! Already the arena is buzzing in the period we'll refer to as Clusterfuck 'foreplay'. One thing for sure, nobody in the arena right now is flaccid.

 

Except the women.

 

And those suffering from impote...

 

 

...you know what, this isn't going anywhere good. So, up to commentary we go.

 

"We are just moments away from the seventh annual SWF Clusterfuck," announces Mak Francis as we switch to ringside, "and the excitement is palpable in this arena! A match which has made careers and solidified legacies. Twenty competitors fight for the right to challenge our SWF World Champion at From The Fire, not to mention the bragging rights that go with winning the Clusterfuck itself. And King, this year we've got sixteen confirmed entrants, plus of course four surprise inclusions to add that extra Clusterfuck spice."

 

"And who knows who they could be Mak?" King chimes in, a little cheerier than you'd expect from him. Hey, it's a special time of the year. "G0R0! Bill Fillmaff! The Memphis Eel! The Memphis Eel Mak, he could be right here in this arena tonight!!"

 

"Of course, it could also be someone good."

 

"Oh, you're just bitter because you weren't invited to be one of the mystery entrants. Maybe if there was a rule that stated you're eliminated when 'all four of your wheels' hit the floor but to be brutally honest with you I, checked the rules last night Mak and I saw no rule about wheels!"

 

"What about walkers?" Mak bites back, before suddenly cheesing it up to camera. "In any event, we're about ready to go. Enough of the pre-amble, let's go up to Funyon to get us started off."

 

 

 

*DING DING*

 

Standing in centre ring with the spotlight firmly fixed on his strictly Pay Per View powder blue suit, Funyon raises the microphone to his lips. Of course, the crowd are so hot that they cheer even that, Funyon feeding them the dramatic pause...

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is NOW time... FOR THE 2007 CLUSTERFUCK MATCH!!"

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

And delivering a knockout announcement!

 

"Now, here are the rules..."

 

"GRRROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAANN!!"

 

Ah well, can't win 'em all.

 

"In just a few moments, the men awarded numbers one and two will enter and the match will begin. Then, ever two minutes there-after, another man will enter according to the number they drew. Elimination will occur when a competitor is thrown over the top rope, both feet touching the floor, until three men remain. The match will then become a triple threat match, scheduled for one fall, with the winner going on to challenge for the SWF World Heavyweight Championship at From The Fire 2007!"

 

Some of the crowd mildly applaud the rules, most grabbing their pro-Michael Stephens signs ready for the entrance of the number one man in the 'Fuck.

 

"I know this is your first 'Fuck Mak. I'm sure you expected this day to come much sooner, but there's no shame in waiting. Just sit back, relax, I'll try and make this as gentle on you as possible."

 

"Are... are you coming onto me?"

 

"I don't hit on cripples." King replies a little too matter-of-factly. "Unless they're hot. You aren't. That and the whole 'penis' issue."

 

 

“COME AND ‘AVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!”

“COME AND ‘AVE A GO IF YOU THINK YER ‘ARD ENOUGH!”

 

This fades into the crashing opening chord of ‘Rookie’ by Boy Sets Fire, and as the Smarktron starts to fade to black jagged white letters flash up one after another to form a familiar phrase:

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’

 

As the spiky guitar riff starts Stephens’ face appears smiling his distinctive lopsided grin before the Smarktron cuts into clips from his matches - the Super Intoxxication on Flesher to win his first World Title, the Glass Jawbreaker on Aecas, the All-Show Brawl with the Insane Luchador - along with clips of him grinning or smirking on the mic. Finally it cuts to footage of him taking Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table with the Toxxic Shock Syndrome, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the-

 

*BOOOM!*

 

-explosion of red pyro all along the soundstage!

 

"Well, here's a man for whom penises aren't isn't an issue!"

 

"And welcome back to 'When Segueways Go Wrong'!" King drawls in response, as through the remnants of the smoke and the sparks strides Michael Stephens. Looking out into the crowd, the Clusterfuck debutant takes a deep breath, not unfamiliar to big-match situations, but unfamiliar to this particular one. Soaking it all in, Stephens takes a moment before beginning his walk to the ring.

 

"Introducing first, entrant number 1!" booms Funyon. "Hailing from Nottingham, England... one half of the SWF World Tag Team Champions... this is MMMIIIIIIIICCHHHHAAAAEEEELLLL SSSSTTEEEEEEEEPPPHHHHHHHEEEEEENNSSSSSS!!!"

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

As the first verse of "Rookie" draws closer, Stephens crosses his arms in front of him in the straight-edge ‘X’ for a second, then throws his arms wide, palms flat and facing down to the floor-

 

*bap-bap*

 

*BOOOM!!*

 

-triggering another blast of red pyro from each ringpost!

 

"I never thought this could be me

I guess you never do until it’s happening to you

Like all the fun turns into shame

And all the “could-have-beens” rearrange..."

 

Climbing to his feet in the ring, Stephens cracks his neck from left to right, staring down the aisle ahead of number two making his appearance. Off comes the black trenchcoat and off too comes his customised England shirt, it's journey into the second row almost causing the barriers to come crashing down as the two crazy eyeliner caked girls in the front row are particularly eager tonight. Can you say eBay?

 

"Michael Stephens has done pretty much everything there is to do in the SWF since his arrival roughly three years ago... except compete in a Clusterfuck Match." points out Mak. "And thanks to Tom Flesher, his inauguration in the 'Fuck is going to be the toughtest possible. Starting at number one, Stephens will have to overcome major odds to add the Clusterfuck to his CV."

 

"It was going to be hard enough anyway, what with his scrawny frame and oh-so punchable face," King adds, almost relevantly, "but coming in at number one is the clincher. Toxxic winning is the longshot to end all longshots."

 

"Nobody has ever won from number one in the Clusterfuck, can Michael Stephens create history tonight in more ways than one?"

 

 

"And now, the man awarded number two!"

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

Stephens gaze only half-breaks as the chants starts up, most of his attention remaining fixed on the entrance way.

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

 

“I’M BORN!!!”

 

“I’M ALIVE!!!!”

 

“I BREATHE!!!!!!”

 

“Vitamin” by Incubus blares through The Pyramid and after a brief moment's pause, the figure of Zyon appears. Already the crowd seem a little split, the pro-Stephens sections bitterly booing The Unique Youth, although the majority seem to be behind Zyon just for being Zyon.

 

"Hailing from Elkhart, Indiana! "THE UNIQUE YOUTH"... ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZYYYYYY - OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONN!!!"

 

"YYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

Breaking into a run, Zyon zips down the aisle, seeming somehow quicker than usual. Zyon leaps and flips into the ring, acrobatically finding his feet. But also finding himself in dangerous territory, as he steps straight nose-to-nose with Michael Stephens! Zyon doesn't take so much as a step backwards, staring Stephens down as Funyon quickly gets the heck out of dodge.

 

"And would you look at this for a face-off?" enthuses Mak. "One and two, Zyon and Michael Stephens, not courtesy of the luck of the draw but thanks to some bitter management figures. These fans don't care either way though, they're just excited about this pairing to kick us off!"

 

"These two could commit Clusterfuck suicide right here!" says King, hopefully. "Better judgement would say 'conserve your energy' if you're in one or two, but do you really think these two will conserve anything here?"

 

"Not likely."

 

"Exactly! These two are going to go hell for leather and they'll be lucky if they make it to number four, let alone the end, because by the time entry number three comes out they'll have burned each other out!"

 

The stand-off continues, Zyon now jawing...

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

...with Stephens, although what's being said isn't quite being picked up over the ringside...

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

...cameras. Probably something to do with what most of the crowd are chanting, as Zyon points a finger towards them, as if trying...

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

...to direct his attention to them. Stephens remains noticeably dry to all of this. Zyon, the smatterings of the crowd, all of them are brushed off by The Sensation with a simple lopsided grin.

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

Not the best of moves, with a scorned enemy inches away.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Heeere we go!"

 

 

*DINGDINGDING!*

 

The bell sounds and somewhere in the back, number three is smiling, as for the next two minutes Zyon and Stephens look set to BREAK DOWN IN MEMPHIS TENNESSEE!! Once the slap registers with Stephens, the Nottingham native's grin disappears, replaced with one pissed off look that nobody wants to be on the other end of! Stephens tackles Zyon to the canvas and mounts The Unique Youth, throwing lefts and rights which Zyon tries to cover up from. That can only last so long, so Zyon shocks Stephens by turning him over, the mount now reversed and Zyon top with the flurry of wild punches! Getting into a brawl with a Nottingham native is never a smart move though. Reaching up, The Englishman manages to avoid the flailing arms and latch onto Zyon's brown locks, pulling his head into range for a HEADBUTT!!

 

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

The dull *CLUNK!* of cranium on cranium draws groans from the fans and a groan from Zyon, falling to the side dis-orientated. Stephens shoves him off and climbs back to his feet, checking he hasn't busted himself open. No blood, no fuss.

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

Stephens strides across the ring, collecting Zyon and again dragging him up by the hair. This time, he drags Zyon all the way to his feet, before AGAIN delivering a Headbutt!

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

As Zyon falls back into the corner with the ropes about the only thing holding him up, the Clusterfuck newbie senses an opportunity and shoots for Zyon's right leg. Before he can really elevate The Unique Youth though, the left limb comes shooting out, Mike taking the flat of the boot in the mouth. Zyon has fended Stephens off for now, as he stumbles away.

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

"Would these people SHUT UP!?" snaps King, unable to take anymore. "We get it already!"

 

As much of a risk as it may be in the 'Fuck, there's enough distance between the two for Zyon to dare to push up onto the middle rope. Stephens sees him and tries to rush The Unique Youth. But Zyon is already in flight by the time Stephens closes in, somersaulting overhead and looking to catch the head on the way over...

 

 

 

...but Stephens ducks, Zyon coming up short on the Blockbuster and crashing to the canvas empty-handed!

 

"Does this idiot not know where he is?" asks King rhetorically. "Taking dumb risks is dumb at the best of times. That's why they're called dumb risks. But in the Clusterfuck?"

 

"Well, Zyon is as concerned with hurting Michael Stephens as he is winning the Clusterfuck right now."

 

"So kick him in the crotch! Don't flip off the ropes, especially if you're gonna miss!"

 

Zyon pulls himself up, only getting halfway before Stephens scampers over. Grabbing hair and shorts, Stephens rushes The Unique Youth forward and effortlessly pitches him up and over the top rope... BUT ZYON GRABS THE ROPE! After a safe landing on the apron, Zyon waits for Stephens to suss that his elimination didn't go through. It takes him a moment, giving Zyon time to set himself. Springboard to the top, sets up the Springboard Forearm Smash, Stephens walking right into it and getting taken clean off his feet!

 

"YYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

"It worked that time!" cheers Mak. "Springboard Forearm by Zyon, Michael Stephens taking his eyes off the prize momentarily and paying for it!"

 

Still nursing the missed Blockbuster a little, Zyon has to strain to pull Stephens back up. But pull him up he does, putting a little badmouth on The Sensation before turning for the ropes and sending him flying...

 

 

...to the apron! Stephens saves himself just like Zyon did, sneaking in under the ropes before The Unique Youth can get another attack in.

 

"Slippery basta..."

 

"Stephens hanging on!" interrupts Mak. "We might be seeing a lot of that from these two men, especially when the bigmen in the match enter."

 

"What bigmen?"

 

Dragging Stephens up by the ropes, Zyon tries for the other method of elimination- the laborious 'pick them up and push them' route. Which is always vulnerable to being beaten away, Stephens doing just that as he clubs Zyon across the back! Again! And once Zyon exposes his head Stephens lands a European Uppercut, sending him into retreat.

 

"Zyon needs to get Stephens out and quick," calls King, as the two men go back to the canvas with some less than pretty brawling, "because once number three comes out, Stephens will be able to sneak attack. And that's when he's at his best..."

 

"Oh, come on King!"

 

"Hey, I'm just telling it like it is. There's plenty of evidence to back me up."

 

As Stephens and Zyon go at it on the canvas, it's clear neither are expert mat technicians. The odd switch of positions here and there works. Other than that though, it's all a bit schoolyard, short elbows and knees being thrown...

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

...as the Clusterfuck timer makes it's first appearance of the night.

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

Back in the ring, Stephens rolls off of Zyon...

 

*SMACK!*

 

...to land a quick basement dropkick, catching Zyon in the ear and sending him rolling towards the ropes.

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"Whoever drew number three is stepping into a warzone here..."

 

"TWO!"

 

"...it'll be interesting to see who he sides with."

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

 

"CHANGE MY PITCH UP!"

"SMACK MY BITCH UP!"

 

The SWF's most neutral superstar earns himself a neutral reaction, but a reaction nonetheless, as "Smack My Bitch Up" by The Prodigy hits.

 

"From Geneva, Switzerland... "MISTER SWISS" VVVIIICCTTOOOOORRRR HHEEEEERRRRZZZOOOOOOGG!!"

 

"SALUTATIONS MEMPHIS~!"

 

"YYYAAAAAAYYYY!"

 

"What a pleasant gentleman." Mak compliments. A very neutral compliment, you might say.

 

"One thing bugs me about this guy. If he's so neutral, why does he come out to such a hostile song. By The Prodigy no less. Doesn't make sense to me."

 

Herzog begins to jog to the ring. To the complete unconcern of Michael Stephens, who's busy stomping the proverbial mudhole into Zyon in one corner of the ring. Zyon takes advantage of Stephens' first half-glance towards Victor, pushing up on the turnbuckles and kicking him away. Back flies Stephens, crashing and rolling to his feet, just as Herzog slides in between the warring parties.

 

"Alright, who's he going to take out first?"

 

No-one just yet, it seems. Herzog looks from Zyon to Stephens, to Zyon, then back to Stephens again. Both men are ready for Herzog. But, being neutral, it seems Victor refuses to choose which man to attack!

 

"What the hell is he doing?"

 

"Looks like he's remaining neutral. He doesn't want to show alliance to one man over another."

 

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." argues the American King.

 

Both Zyon and Stephens look a little confused as Herzog wishes them both "SALUTATIONS~!", the warring parties successfully seperated by this neutral newcomer. And in the ultimate act of Genevae conventioning, it seems Herzog has actually united the warring duo, as they both rush in to attack Herzog!

 

"YYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

"Whatever happened to 'give peace a chance'?" bemoans Mak.

 

"It was a terrible song then and it still is now."

 

Zyon and Stephens double up on Herzog until he's down on his knees from the barrage of forearms. At which point, Zyon and Stephens remember that they're Zyon and Stephens, which therefore means they dislike each other and must fight! So they go back to their slugfest from earlier, duking it out... UNTIL HERZOG WIPES THEM BOTH OUT WITH A DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE!!

 

"Well, I guess that was kinda neutral," The Franchise thinks aloud, "he did hit them both at the same time."

 

In his first non-neutral act of the match, Herzog now picks a target. And he picks Michael Stephens, the former four-time World Champion eating a favourite move in his own arsenal, the European Uppercut! "Mister Swiss" is much more powerful than Mr. Stephens, so his Uppercut packs the bigger punch, throwing Stephens across the ring and into the ring ropes. Herzog leaves him there though as Zyon approaches, booting The Unique Youth in the gut. Scoop and a slam plants Zyon, Herzog coming of the ropes and dropping the big Leg to follow up!

 

"There we go!" sighs King. "If this guy drops the goofiness and gets serious, he's got a chance."

 

"That he has. At 6'4, 254, Herzog is one of the biggest men in this year's 'Fuck."

 

As Herzog comes up from delivering that move, he's attacked from behind by Michael Stephens. The succession of right hands on Victor rocking the bigman, until he manages to land a knee to the gut!Another knee is buried into the gut, before Herzog scoops Stephens up and carries him over to the ropes!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"Alright, get rid of him! No point in prolonging the inevitable, that's what I always say!"

 

As the threat of elimination gets closer, the arms of Michael Stephens reach out and latch around the top ring rope. Which makes Herzog's attempts to dump him that bit tougher.

 

"TOXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

Herzog boosts Stephens up a little more, the lower body teetering now as the arms continue to cling around the rope and the left arm of the Swissman for dear life. Giving the legs one last push, Herzog now finally manages to get Stephens over the top...

 

 

...but Stephens hangs on and as his legs dangle over the apron, Herzog's body begins to teeter also!

 

"It looks like Stephens has got one of the arms intertwined with his, Herzog is prone here!"

 

Over comes Zyon now, picking up a little speed as he sees Herzog's legs latch around the bottom rope for safety. But Herzog isn't the target. Zyon reaches past Mister Swiss and punches Michael Stephens across the crown of the head, trying to force him to relinquish his grapevine around the rope!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

"Smart move!" cheers King. "Smart move, go for the man in the most trouble!"

 

We're less than ten seconds way now, as Zyon continues to try and force Stephens out...

 

 

...

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” hits, bringing out the first of The Predators. And the biggest, Nighthawk.

 

"From Hawk Mountain, Pennsylvania... NNIIIIIIIIIIGGHHHHHTTHHAAAAAWWWWKK!!"

 

"Ooh, another big boy!" smiles King, only slightly homosexually.

 

As Nighthawk makes his way down, the seemingly easy pickings aren't as easy anymore. Stephens manages to manoeuvre his body onto the apron and back underneath the bottom rope, the moment he releases his grip freeing Herzog's other arm. Quickly Herzog goes for Zyon in the crowded corner, as Nighthawk slides in. Although this is his first Clusterfuck, Nighthawk has some experience from the Clustertease a couple of weeks back on Storm. Experience that is clearly still fresh in his mind, as his first target is one of the two men who eliminated him from that particular match. Michael Stephens. Nighthawk drags The Englishman out from the corner and knocks him to the ground with a big right hand, seeing that the other man responsible for his Clustertease ousting, Zyon, is being dealt with and deciding to stick with Stephens.

 

"Not a favourable luck of the draw for Nighthawk." Mak needlessly points out. "Although, if Jay Hawke's got a low number, it might not be so unlucky after all."

 

Nighthawk lands another big right on Stephens, again putting him down. Down isn't where Nighthawk needs to put The Englishman though, unless it involves some sort of bypassing of the top rope. So when Stephens next reaches his feet, he finds himself scooped up and over the shoulder, 'Hawk looking to run him right out of Clusterfuck Town. Michael Stephens is a slippery customer though and as Nighthawk picks up some steam towards the ropes, he loses control of Stephens who slithers and slides down the back to the safety of the canvas. Slamming on the brakes, Nighthawk stops short of the ropes and quickly turns around, only to eat a...

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

...V-sign...

 

 

 

…DISCUS...

 

 

...SPINEBUSTER!!!

 

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Boy, nobody saw THAT coming!" crows King, as Stephens ends up splattered across the Clusterfuck canvas. Nighthawk climbs to his feet and taps a finger to his temple, which means he has the brains of course.

 

Across the ring, Zyon has turned the tables on Herzog and kicks away in the corner. Spotting this, the other culprit from Storm a few weeks ago becomes Nighthawk's new target. Which he doesn't realise, until a clubbing forearm strikes him between the shoulder blades, causing him to eat a mouthful of top turnbuckle pad!

 

"You know, Nighthawk was probably pretty happy with his number, considering." King muses. "He's in early enough to get his hands on Stephens and Zyon, but after number three has been in and softened them up a little more."

 

"Yeah. Pity about that whole 'odds of winning the Clusterfuck are longer' setback though, huh?"

 

"Please. Nighthawk's about the only true heavyweight in the match, he'll have no problem surviving to the end."

 

Nighthawk brings Zyon back to his feet, not thinking about an elimination yet. First, payback. Painful payback, setting The Unique Youth up in a fireman's carry and making him think about it for a moment, before dumping Zyon off to the side with the Death Valley Driver!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Two down and only one remains. Nighthawk sees Herzog recovering in the corner and gets himself a run-up, before charging at the Swissman with an Avalanche in mind. The Swiss are well accustomed to Avalanches and go through regular training in their schooling system on how to prevent said Avalanches. Or, something. Anyway, point is, Herzog moves and Nighthawk ends up taking the turnbuckles sternum-first!

 

"Nobody home for Nighthawk!"

 

Winded, Nighthawk staggers away from the turnbuckles. Herzog is waiting on him, clubbing 'Hawk across the chest with a European Uppercut! As if he wasn't winded enough before, a second European Uppercut follows, hanging Nighthawk up over the top rope. Herzog is ready for a third now, only halted by the onset of footsteps. Turning around just in time, Herzog throws a clothesline at Michael Stephens, who swoops underneath and heads right for Nighthawk feet first...

 

 

 

...the unexpected dropkick teetering Nighthawk...

 

 

 

 

...and a final shove putting gravity into motion, completing the elimination!!

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"And there's our first casualty of the 2007 Clusterfuck!" announces Francis of the thud of Nighthawk's body crashing onto the ringside pads. "Nighthawk made just one mistake, but that's all it takes in this environment."

 

"That and some luck. Speaking of which, Michael Stephens with the elimination."

 

"Luck or not, we're back down to three."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nighthawk

ENTERED: 4th

LEFT: 1st

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Michael Stephens

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Victor Herzog

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stephens doesn't have long to relax after that elimination, Victor Herzog right on him with the Uppercut he was intending on dishing out to the now departed Nighthawk. And a second! The co-Tag Team Champion falls back into the ropes, which rebound him into Herzog's waiting arms. Well, first, waiting boot, then waiting arms as he's taken over with a Snap Suplex.

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"We're going to get a fifth entrant here."

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"Hey, you think this is the Eel's number?"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

Unfortunately for King (and plenty more besides), it's not.

 

 

“Please Stand Clear of the Ring. Por favor Soporte Claro del Anillo..."

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"…For the Safety and Comfort of Others…No Smoking Please. Para la Seguridad Y la Comodidad de Otras... El Ningún Fumar Por favor..."

 

 

“The Walt Disney Company and the Smartmarks Wrestling Federation are proud to present…”

 

A spotlight hits the entrance way as "When You Wish Upon A Star" begins playing. Alan Clark is in no hurry to get to the ring, not sprinting out like many before him. Instead, he just cheerily walks to the ring, as pixie dust falls from the ceiling.

 

"Representing Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida… the self-proclaimed and copyrighted "Happiest Guy On Earth"... and the reigning SWF International Champion... AAAAAAALLLLLAAAAAAAANN CCLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRKK!!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Alan continues his slow, 'Eeire Cheery' walk to the ring, while the action continues unabated in the ring. Herzog puts the boots to Michael Stephens, before noticing Zyon beginning to climb back up and switching his focus to him.

 

"Now, this guy is not right in the head." Mak succeeds in pointing out the blatantly obvious again.

 

"He's also the International Champion. I used to think Clark was one of life's 'also-rans', but maybe not. If he wins the Clusterfuck, nobody will ever doubt him again."

 

"Maybe not his ability. His sanity on the other hand..."

 

With that same painted-on smile he always seems to have, Clark gives Victor Herzog the thumbs up as he observes his attempts to eliminate Zyon from the match from the outside. Even the slightly wacky Herzog is put off, but continues to lever Zyon up until he's lying across the top rope. Hanging on from dear life, Zyon tries to get a safe grip around the top turnbuckle.

 

"DIS - NEY SUCKS!"

"DIS - NEY SUCKS!"

"DIS - NEY SUCKS!"

"DIS - NEY SUCKS!"

 

It's almost as if the crowd are trying to break Alan, as the referees try to force him into the ring. Nonetheless, Clark's happy exterior doesn't break. He waves to the crowd, completely and blatantly ignoring the chants (whether he actually agrees with them or not is anyone's guess) before sliding into the ring. Zyon is clearly clamouring for his help; anyone's help really.

 

Alan just waves at him, before putting the boots to Michael Stephens.

 

"Zyon might be going here!" cries Mak, as Zyon suddenly starts to over-balance, only for The Unique Youth to re-assert his grip on the ropes. "I'm sure Joseph Peters would love nothing more than for Zyon to go out so early."

 

Zyon doesn't seem to be going just yet though, hanging on regardless, as Clark takes it to Stephens now. The Nottingham native gets to his knees and thrusts his head into Alan's stomach... and again, only momentarily winding Clark who fires back with an elbow across the back of the neck! With Stephens nursing the neck, Alan now takes a moment to check an imaginary watch on his wrist, gleefully declaring that 'IT'S TIME FOR THE 3 O'CLOCK PARADE'!

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

Clark is distracted for a second, as Victor Herzog suddenly comes flying out of the corner, Zyon having switched his position on the turnbuckles and brought Mister Swiss out with a Hurricanrana variation to save himself. A second delay isn't too bad though, still just right for Clark to hook Stephens up and hit the first Vertical Suplex!

 

"We're about to see The 3 O'clock and a couple of seconds Parade."

 

"Typical, these corporate theme parks never run to the schedule they promise." sulks King, bemoaning a backstory that nobody knows or probably cares about.

 

Rolling through, Clark brings Stephens up and over with the second Suplex. Another roll through and another lift follows. But the parade suddenly comes to a screeching halt! Stephens kicks his legs on the way up, forcing his momentum south and preventing the third and final Amigo/Suplex! Keeping his cool, Clark tries to take Stephens up again. But again Stephens keeps kicking until his feet find safe ground, firing off some bodyshots now to try and escape the suplex for good. And he might just do that, with a little help from Zyon who clubs Clark in the back and sets up a facelock on "The Happiest Guy On Earth". Soon to be 'Former Happiest' no doubt, as Zyon and Stephens combine with a Double Suplex to take him over!

 

"YYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

"Well, whadda ya know! Michael Stephens and Zyon, teaming up to ta..."

 

Not so fast though, as when Michael Stephens reaches his feet, an arm grips him by the scruff of the neck...

 

 

 

...the hand of Zyon, bringing Stephens around 180 and sending him flying over the top...

 

 

 

 

"YES! TURN ABOUT, FAIR PLAY!"

 

 

 

 

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

 

...but Stephens JUST hangs onto the top rope!!

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Getting a good grip on the rope, Stephens manages to bring himself back inside via the skinning of the proverbial cat! Zyon is waiting on him though, determined to make good on the second attempt as he clotheslines...

 

 

 

...THIN AIR, STEPHENS WITH THE BACKDROP...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...BUT ZYON HANGS ON AND LEVERS HIMSELF BACK INSIDE!!

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"WOW! Two close, close calls for number one and two!"

 

Zyon scrambles back to his feet and is FUMING! He's not the only one, as Stephens FUMES~ right back at him! And we are once again back where we started, at a stand-off between entrants number one and number two. Only difference is, back then, there weren't any other entrants to intervene.

 

Just back on his feet, Alan Clark sees his opportunity and bundles into Stephens from behind, causing The Englishman to clock heads with The Unique Youth and putting both men down! Clark then goes on the offence, stomping away on each man in turn, all with that same demented grin plastered on his mug.

 

"I'm telling you Mak, this obsession Zyon has with Michael Stephens is going to cost them both in the long-run." King imparts. "I'm not saying he doesn't have good reason for that obsession, far from it. But this is a match with nineteen opponents, not just the one."

 

"You've got a point, for once, King."

 

"Pardon?"

 

"Nothing, nothing. Alan Clark on the offense..."

 

"You know, I hope Spike Jenkins is out next."

 

"You'd be the only one!"

 

Looking to join the fray, Herzog finds himself in Clark's firing line now, The Disney Sponsored Superstar catching him coming with a back elbow and moving in after him. A low charge from Clark pushes Herzog up into a corner, looking now for the legs to elevate him over the top. Herzog grapevines his ankle around the bottom rope though, the one leg Clark does get only stretching as far as the middle rope.

 

"Clark is the freshest man in the match, but he's still going to struggle with Herzog."

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

Clark won't be the freshest man for long though, giving up on trying to eliminate the Swiss competitor and instead attacking the gut with some shoulder thrusts.

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

"Getting Away With Murder" pounds through the arena, the calling card of the OAOAST's poster boy, Zack Malibu!!

 

"From Providence, Rhode Island... ZZZZAAAAAAAAAACCKK MMMMMMAAAAAAALLLIIIIIIIBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!"

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

"It's Zack Malibu, who this past Sunday night won the OAOAST's Lethal Rumble from entry number two, outlasting twenty-nine other men! Tonight, he only has to contend with nineteen opponents. But off the back of that gruelling Rumble and a brutal Survive Or Surrender Cage Match just three nights ago, Zack cannot be 100% coming in to his first Clusterfuck!"

 

Indeed, Zack's run to the ring doesn't look the smoothest. Adrenaline is his friend though as he slides into the ring and without hesitation, goes after Alan Clark! Pulling the man he knows as Bloodshed off of Herzog, Zack whips Clark around to face him and lays in with a quick jab! Two! Three! Four! Five even! Clark looks like he's just been on a marathon trip on the teacup ride, wobbling from side to side as Zack grabs the arm and shoots him into the ropes. Back comes Clark into a HIIIIIGH Backbody Drop, coming down hard on his tailbone as Zack is ALL FIRED UP!

 

"From what I hear, this guy's lucky to even have his career right now, after Sunday night!" cuts in King, killing the mood slightly.

 

"Yes indeed. And if you want to know more about that situation folks, you'll have to trawl through the OAOAST, whether you want to or not!"

 

With no real allegiances in this company yet, Zack is ready for anything and anyone. First up, Victor Herzog, wandering out of the corner...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...SCHOOL'S OUT~!

 

"Now that's a Superkick!"

 

"And so will the Superkicks of everyone else on the roster be. Does anyone NOT do that move?"

 

I'm not sure if Zyon does...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...but he might just think about adding it to his arsenal, after feeling the effects of SCHOOL'S OUT~! Zack has cut through three men already and again pauses to fire the fans behind him. A shadow looms over him though, as Michael Stephens is up and approaching. Zack turns his head just in time, no time for Stephens to attack before he comes face to face with Malibu!

 

"Oh boy!" gasps Mak. "The poster boys of the SWF and OAOAST, face to face for the first time ever!"

 

"Whoopee." King sneers in response.

 

"LET'S GO STE - PHENS!"

"LET'S GO ZACK!"

"LET'S GO STE - PHENS!"

"LET'S GO ZACK!"

 

The crowd split, not exactly 50/50 but somewhere approaching. The two marquee superstars of their respective companies seem almost as excited about this meeting as the chanting fans that surround them. It's Stephens first to attack, introducing Zack to the SWF with a right hand! Zack returns the favour!

 

Stephens!

 

Zack!

 

Looking to change it up, Stephens connects with a European Uppercut which stuns Malibu for a moment. Which is all The Englishman needs to catch the head in the ¾ facelock and make for the ropes. Scaling from the bottom to the top, over goes Stephens, looking for the Sunny In England! Global-warming, global-schwarming! It's NOT Sunny In England right now, Zack pushes up under Stephens and preventing the Shiranui! Stephens lands on his feet, a little bit of a stumble included, just as Zack comes out of the corner with the SCHOOL'S OU...

 

 

 

 

...NO! Zack whiffs the kick! After a little stumble of his own Zack comes to a grinding halt, realising that Stephens is behind him and turning around, into the path of the STEPHENSKI...

 

 

 

 

...NO!! Stephens whiffs the kick! Sensing a little pattern beginning to form, Malibu decides the superkicks aren't working though. And before Stephens can recover from his miss, Zack tackles low and lifts The Englishman up, around and DOWN~! with the Angle Slam!!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

 

"The Angle Slam connects!" cheers Mak. "Nobody has ever won the Lethal Rumble and the Clusterfuck, Zack Malibu could be the first!"

 

As Zack wisely takes his time over his next move, he watches as Victor Herzog climbs back up. The Swissman stumbles a little, still groggy from getting superkicked. Taking advantage, Alan Clark sneaks up on Herzog and tackles the unsteady base to the right...

 

 

 

 

 

...TIPPING VICTOR OVER THE TOP AND TO THE FLOOR!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"There goes our Swiss representative." announces Mak. "And to all of you staying up late in Switzerland... well, you're neutral so you probably aren't too disappointed."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mister Swiss" Victor Herzog

ENTERED: 3rd

LEFT: 2nd

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Alan Clark

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Alan Clark, Zack Malibu

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Herzog looks up into the ring. And he is EXTREMELY~ neutral about his elimination.

 

As he turns around, Clark takes a boot from Zack Malibu, Zack looking to make Clark the next elimination as he directs him to the ropes. A sharp elbow to the gut stuns Malibu though. A second elbow connects before Alan hooks on a waistlock and drags Zack into centre ring. Desperately Zack reaches out for the ropes, just missing them in time to prevent being dragged and subsequently thrown with a German Suplex!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

 

"DOOM!"

 

"DOOM!"

 

"DOOM!"

 

"Oh you've got to be kidding. Him!?"

 

"Jimmy The Doom, in at lucky number seven!"

 

The chanting druids begin to line the aisle. But time is money and both are short in the Clusterfuck, thus the druids suddenly start to topple like skittles as Jimmy The Doom runs through the entrance way and the pack of cloaked bodies in front of him. Good job he's got a hard head.

 

"From Doomopolis, Doomtopia... the SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion... JJJIIIIIIIIIIMMMYYYYYY TTHHHHEEEEEEE DDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!"

 

"YYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Doom doesn't stop, head down and narrowly avoiding headbutting the ring apron as he slides into the ring. The only other man standing right now is Alan Clark. So Jimmy naturally goes right for him, jabbing his glove-less finger covered fingers into the throat with the Hand of Doom!

 

"Jimmy The Doom recently surpassed the record for longest Hardcore Gamers Champion. Infact, he is currently holding and extending the record for the second longest title reign in SWF history!"

 

"What is this place coming to?"

 

Moving on to the next opponent, Jimmy attacks Zyon with a palm thrust. Down goes Zyon, so Doom moves on once more. He actually has to help Stephens up from his knees to his feet before he can introduce him to the Hand of Doom. Down goes Stephens. Doom must therefore move on, for some inane reason, to Zack Malibu. Zack is down, so Jimmy settles for stomping on his chest once. Before moving on to the next opponent.

 

 

Unfortunately, the next opponent is still in the back and ninety seconds away from entering the Clusterfuck. That doesn't stop Jimmy from waiting on him though, the crowd confused as to why The Straight-Bread Sensation's focus is on the entrance way.

 

"Well I'm confused."

 

From behind, Alan Clark attacks, clubbing Doom in the back. Jimmy falls to his knees but Clark brings him back up, front facelock applied, hanging him throat-first across the top rope and grapevining the near leg. Manoeuvering the lanky Straight-Breader over top alone isn't an easy task and Clark struggles, hanging the right leg up over the top rope before moving onto the left.

 

"The Hardcore Champion is teetering on the edge here!" gasps Mak. "Jimmy may not last long!"

 

"If there's a God..."

 

As Clark continues to struggle against the force of Doomtopia, over strolls Zyon. Rather than help Alan out though, Zyon prefers instead to try and tip The Happiest Guy On Earth towards possible elimination, with the possibility of a two for one ousting.

 

Elsewhere, Zack and Stephens are beginning to recover in seperate parts of the thing. Zyon keeps an eye on what's going on and when he sees Stephens on his way up in the corner, he abandons Clark and Doom, resuming his hostilities with the Tag Team Champion. Stepping off of the leg as he runs in, Zyon connects with the knee to the side of the head, narrowly avoiding toppling on over the ropes on the follow through.

 

"Shining Wizard in the corner!"

 

"It seems like Toxxic is coming in for the bulk of the punishment here," points out King, "everybody has singled him out for an attack. Which is mighty fine by me."

 

"Well, Stephens is a former four-time World Champion. Number one entry or not, he's one of the main threats in this year's Clusterfuck."

 

As Zyon drops down and blatantly chokes the life out of Stephens against the bottom turnbuckle, Jimmy The Doom is being saved by Zack Malibu. Zack pulls Clark off of the Straight-Breader and applies a traditional sleeper hold. Once Alan begins to fight for the ropes, Zack then drops, planting him with the Trendsetter! However, the save was not made for save's sake and with Alan out of the way Zack goes for Jimmy, tackling him back towards the ropes and attempting to lift him over the top. Jimmy strikes down on Zack with some palm thrust strikes though, his unorthodox style extending to a headbutt down into the shoulder blades to fight his preppy assailant off. With Zack nullified, Jimmy then shocks everyone in existance as he hooks Zack by the head and prepares to steal a page out of Bret Hart's playbook with the suplex to the floor, perhaps forgetting it always ends with the executor tumbling over the top also. Deadweighting, Malibu blocks the suplex.

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

Zack blocks the suplex again.

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

And suddenly turns the table on Jimmy, the gangly legs of the Hardcore Champion clipping the ropes but Zack still able to take him up and over with the Vertical Suplex.

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

Earning himself a Standing Moonsault from Alan Clark by not moving quick enough after the execution however.

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

All eyes turn to the entrance way, for the entrance of number eight. And when "Man In The Box" by Alice In Chains powers through the P.A, the crowd pop for the man who conquered the World Champion just a few short weeks ago!

 

"From Easton, Pennsylvania... THE IIIINNSSSSAAAAAAAAANNEEEE LLLLLUUUUUCCHHHHAAAADDOOOOORRRRRRRR!!!"

 

IL rushes out from the back and sprints down the aisle to the ring. Probably not the best move for his energy levels, but ah well.

 

"Here comes a real darkhorse, The Insane Luchador. He beat the Champion before, albeit non-title, what's to say he can't upset the odds tonight?"

 

"How long have you got?"

 

Into the ring slides Luchador, assessing the scene quickly. Clark has continued his attack on Malibu and Zyon continues to do similar to Stephens. So, that leaves Jimmy The Doom for Luchador, going on the attack with some forearms.

 

"So far, Zyon and Michael Stephens have survived elimination," Mak reminds us all, "but there's still plenty of men to come yet. Four of whom, still unknown. This is only going to get tougher and tougher for these two, who got so royally screwed by our 'esteemed' figures of authority."

 

An irish whip to the corner is reversed by The Hardcore Champion, IL hitting the buckles. The Straight Bread Sensation then follows in, the crowd ready to dial it up for the 73.5267.1094Q80.16. However, unless they're one of those show-off world recordy people, they won't have even got halfway through the dialling process before Luchador shoves Doom off, countering the 73.5267.1094Q80.16 attempt. As Jimmy climbs back to his feet, IL then comes out of the buckles with a tuck and a roll, clocking Jimmy across the head with the Rolling Koppo Kick!!

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

The sound of hand on chest steals his thunder a little though, as Zack lashes Clark with a knifedge chop!

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

And another!

 

Zack continues to take the fight to Clark, while Luchador turns his attention to the ongoing Zyon/Stephens feud. From behind, IL fires off a kick, which almost takes the knee right out from under the unsuspecting Zyon. Indiscriminate, a kick then lands to the prone Michael Stephens, before IL turns back to Zyon. By now he's no longer so unsuspecting though, blocking the kick and pulling Luchador into a fireman's carry...

 

 

 

...but IL fires down with the elbow, beating his way free and landing behind The Unique Youth. Waistlock is applied and IL looks for a German. Zyon blocks the first attempt and performs a quick standing switch, throwing Luchador forward...

 

 

 

 

 

...OVER THE TOP...

 

 

...to the apron!

 

"Another close call, this time it's Insane Luchador hanging on by the skin of his teeth!"

 

Zyon doesn't wait around to see if Luchador survived or not, going straight back to attacking Stephens. That gives Luchador a free route back into the ring, having to avoid Zack Malibu as he suddenly rushes cross-ring and crushes Jimmy The Doom in the corner with a Diving Splash! The Staight-Breader is sandwiched in the corner, just to add insult to his injury, Zack watching his back cautiously as Luchador stalks around looking for another target. He decides on Alan Clark. But Alan lands the first blow, positioning himself at the side of IL and sweeping him over with the Back(drop)lot Suplex!

 

"A high and tight landing there for Insane Luchador." calls Mak. "So far, nobody has really been able to come in and dominate the 'Fuck for any length of time and we've had just the two eliminations thus far."

 

"And nobody's really formed any sort of an alliance, even temporarily. Then again, with Michael Stephens in there, who can blame anyone for being untrusting?"

 

A few stomps on Luchador later, Alan turns back to Malibu...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

...who's currently lighting up Doomtopia's sole representative in... well, anything really. Clark watches and waits, creeping into the opposite corner.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

As the second chop lands across Doom's chest, Alan breaks across the ring. And as Zack sees the cartwheeling Clark out of the corner of his eye, he ducks out of the way, Clark coming out of the cartwheel with momentum behind an enziguri...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...which doesn't go unwasted, clocking Jimmy upside the head!

 

"The Wreck Of The Miss Tilly!"

 

"Amazingly, Doom takes a move with a more ridiculous name than his own. I didn't think it could be done, but lo and behold, it has."

 

Not entirely satisfied with who he connected with, out of the corner scrambles Clark, looking for Zack again. His OAOAST nemesis is more than ready for him though, ducking the clothesline and scoring with the Angle Slam again!!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

Realising the Clusterfuck timer is on it's way towards zero for a seventh time, Zack figures he should start clearing the ring of some bodies. Doom is still dazed in the corner, so Zack targets him, hovering The Straight-Breader's upper body over the top rope but again struggling with those lanky legs.

 

 

...

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

"Number nine..."

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

All the fans scrambling through their Clusterfuck programmes, available at a low, low price of just $8 at the conscession stands, are left confused as "Mannish Boy" by Muddy Waters hits. Momentarily confused. Before it finally registers, just who used this music.

 

CHARLIE

 

"GRAPPLER"

 

MATTHEWS!

 

The Grappler gets a weird mix of boos and the obligatory return pop from the Memphis natives, as business is about to pick up!

 

"...the number Wes Davenport won from last year! And you wouldn't bet against THIS man winning from this number, 2004 Clusterfuck winner Charlie 'Grappler' Matthews!!"

 

"Far from it," agrees King, as Matthews makes his slow walk to the ring, "infact, the smart money has to go on this man right now! There's going to be few bigger and boasting more experience than The Grappler in this year's 'Fuck! Like you said, he's won it before, he's got the perfect style for this kind of match... screw it, here's $20, that says Grappler's going to From The Fire again!"

 

"Well, Grappler did indeed win the 'Fuck three years ago. But he did so from number twenty, this is an entirely different prospect."

 

"I'll take that as bet accepted."

 

Insane Luchador is just now pulling himself up on the nearest ropes to the entrance, watching Grappler approach. Grappler's eyes don't even give IL the benefit of peripheral vision though. His eyes are firmly locked elsewhere. In he slides, marching right across the ring and grabbing hold of Zyon by the head. The Unique Youth gets tossed across the ring, ending up in a heap as Grappler takes over on Michael Stephens in the corner. Big haymaker after big haymaker clubs down across the top of The Englishman's head, trapped against the 'buckles and unable to put up any significant defense!

 

"And Grappler goes right for Michael Stephens!" Mak cries. "No coincidence there, I'm sure a certain Mr. Flesher has given his former tag team partner a 'peptalk' coming in."

 

"What are you applying?"

 

"Well, it's obvious Tom doesn't want Michael Stephens coming out victorious tonight. Why else would he 'reward' him with number one? And now, Tom's running buddy Charlie Matthews shows up for the first time in months, heads straight for Stephens..."

 

"I'm sure Graps has plenty of reasons to dislike Toxxic, without borrowing any of Taamo's. After all, it's Grappler's Tag Team Title reign he and Maddix ended. So stop with the conspiracy theories and let me enjoy this, would ya?"

 

Pulling Stephens out of the corner, Grappler drives a simple but very effective knee to the gut. Another knee connects, doubles Mike over in the corner. Zyon comes back into shot now and dives into Grappler, clasping his hands around the bigman's neck in an attempt to choke some of his fresh life out of him. Which doesn't last long, Grappler hoiking Zyon up a little and grabbing the head, bieling The Unique Youth off his shoulders and down to the canvas, HARD, knocking the wind out of Zyon's lungs.

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

Immediately Grappler goes back to Stephens... but The Sensation has sat around too long taking punishment and he's had ENOUGH~, coming out swinging at Matthews. A European Uppercut lands, a second and then a third. Grappler's burly chest absorbs most of the force, but Stephens comes out with a HEADBUTT that manages to daze Matthews!

 

"Stephens is treating this like a bar fight in downtown Nottingham!"

 

"They have gay bars in Nottingham?"

 

The headbutt sends Grappler stumbling back a few steps, into the centre of the ring. Stephens quickly runs the ropes and tries to bull the bigman back towards the ropes with a low shoulder barge. Another step back from Matthews convinces Stephens to keep it up, off the ropes again and leaping at Grappler with a Dropkick! This time Matthews is sent back a couple of steps and he's close to the ropes, not to mention off balance. So Stephens turns to run the ropes again...

 

 

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...not before KOing the on-coming Insane Luchador with a Stephenskick that is! With him out of the way there's no distractions so Stephens now makes for the ropes, rushing back at Grappler. Who, by now, has recovered, popping The Englishman up in the air before catching him on the way down... WITH THE BEARHUG!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Oh great." groans Mak.

 

"Don't scoff Mak, this is great strategy! Grappler's gonna squeeze whatever life that's left out of Toxxic, then he'll be all the easier to toss over that top rope."

 

"And in the preceeding five minutes, we do what exactly?"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOO - RIIIING!"

"BOOOOOOOOOO - RIIIING!"

"BOOOOOOOOOO - RIIIING!"

 

As the crowd let Grappler have it, in a way Grappler is obviously more than accustomed to, the action continues on around him. Zack has been fought off by Doom in the corner, The Straight-Bread Sensation striking down on Malibu with a Headbutt! With Zack down, Doom now spots Zyon on his way back up. He also spots Zyon's attention drifting naturally back to Michael Stephens, leaving him prone for the dreaded Yak Kick!

 

"#Oh, you're the best, around#"

 

"Knock it off!"

 

After a brief moment of revered silence, in honour of the hallowed Yak, Jimmy peels Zyon off of the canvas. And assuming the number two entrant has come to the end of his energy limitation, he sets him up for an over the top rope ride...

 

 

 

...but Zyon stops short, dropping to his knees and going deadweight! Jimmy strikes Zyon across the back a couple of times with an open hand, but gives up on The Unique Youth, meeting Zack on his way up. And as a slugfest breaks out between Zack and Doom, Zyon quickly crawls to a safer position against the bottom turnbuckle.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

Watching on as Michael Stephens rings Grappler's bell with a double ear clap!

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

Another earclap connects! But Grappler clings onto the Bearhug, tightening his grip around The Englishman's lower back and showing he has no intention of releasing the hold yet.

 

 

"TEN!"

 

Meanwhile, it's time for another entrant.

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"We're at the halfway mark, number ten on the way!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"And a lot of talent still in with a shot this year, only two men eliminated thus far."

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

 

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVERYBODY KNOWS I’M IN OVER MY HEAD

OVER MY HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAD...”

 

“Over My Head (Cable Car)” by the Fray hits, signifying the entrance of another former World Heavyweight Champion! Not an SWF World Champion, but still.

 

"From Milwaukee, Wisconsin... "CADILLAC" CCAAAAAALLVVVVVIIIIIIIINN SSSZZZEEECCHHHSSSSSTTEEEIIIINN!!!"

 

"And I think we've found our first alliance of the Clusterfuck," points out Mak, as Zack can be seen glancing to the entrance way, midway through another attempted ousting of Jimmy The Doom, "as Calvin hits the ring with his partner clearly in sight!"

 

Indeed, Calvin rushes right over to Zack and gives him a helping hand with Jimmy. The Cadillac Boys take a leg a-piece on Doom and suddenly his lankiness isn't quite as helpful for the Hardcore Gamers Champion as he finds himself hovering over the canvas!

 

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

As Doom fights elimination, Michael Stephens starts to pull the crowd into his corner. Pumping his fists, The Englishman draws on the support of the fans and drives a right hand into the temple of The Grappler! Another right hand! A third right hand, Grappler's grip beginning to weaken a little. Still the hold hasn't been relinquished just yet.

 

*SLAP!*

 

But another double ear clap does the trick!

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Grappler drops Stephens, his head spinning and his ears ringing, unable to get his wits about him before Stephens barges him in towards the ring ropes and grapevines the leg, looking to tip the 2004 Winner up and out!

 

"I don't think Stephens is going to have much success here," Francis predicts...

 

 

 

...before Alan Clark wanders over, ducking underneath Grappler's bulky frame and attempting to deadlift him! "Although, maybe now he might fare a little better!"

 

"YYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

The combined efforts of the International Champion and one of the Tag Team Champions are enough to worry Grappler, eyes widening a little as he hangs on one leg and across the top rope. Across the ring, Jimmy The Doom is also precariously placed, laid up against the top turnbuckles with both his legs up level with his head, kicking and struggling as Zack and Calvin try to force him either left or right in order to put him out.

 

In the middle of the ring meanwhile, IL staggers back to his feet. Zyon spots an opportunity, struggling away from the ropes towards The Ill One. Luchador spots his fellow luchador coming however, brushing aside Zyon's attempted Ansatsuken Knee strike and locks on the Rear Naked Choke!

 

"Maybe IL is pulling a trick out of Charlie Matthews' playbook!"

 

Zyon finds himself trapped in the hold before he knows what's happening, his attempt to free up his airways by moving IL's arm proving futile. Before Luchador can bring him down into a body-scissors though, Zyon rushes forwards. Making for the ropes, it's obvious Zyon knows what he's doing, grabbing the top rope and sending himself up and over...

 

 

 

 

...The Unique Youth hanging on...

 

 

 

 

 

...IL, NOT SO LUCKY!!

 

*THUD!*

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

"No second shot at the World Title for Insane Luchador!" calls Mak, as Zyon levers himself safely back inside the ring and gets the 'safe' signal. "A smart leverage move by Zyon and IL is history!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Insane Luchador

ENTERED: 8th

LEFT: 3rd

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Zyon

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Alan Clark, Zack Malibu, Jimmy The Doom, Charlie Matthews, Calvin Szechstein

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back to his feet, Zyon scans the ring. And almost like radar he finds Michael Stephens and heads right for him, sneaking up behind and scooping Stephens up and across the top rope!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"I don't know how smart that was though," Mak critiques, "Zyon should have helped get rid of Grappler."

 

"What, and give Toxxic open invitation to stab him in the back?"

 

Zyon digs in, trying to get some traction from his black athletic shoes as he pushes Stephens bit by bit over the top. That in turn frees Charlie Matthews, fighting off Alan Clark and clubbing him to the canvas with a heavy-duty clothesline. Predictably, Grappler then weighs in against Stephens, the number one entrant now clinging on for dear life from the dual efforts to eliminate him!

 

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

Speaking of elimination, Jimmy The Doom is finally dumped over the top by The Cadillac Boys. However, he lands on the apron, arms wrapped around the ringpost like a long lost family member/Yak as Calvin tries to force him out with some stomps. Zack would do the same, surely.

 

 

"TEN!"

 

Except he's spotted Alan Clark floundering in mid-ring.

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

And Zack rushes at him, Clark caught in a rear waistlock and ran to the ropes, as if for an O'Connor Roll...

 

 

 

...only, instead of getting rolled backwards, Alan goes rolling OVER THE TOP...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...AND ENDS UP CRASHING TO THE ARENA FLOOR!!!

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"The International Champion is gone!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alan Clark

ENTERED: 5th

LEFT: 4th

ELIMINATED: Victor Herzog

ELIMINATED BY: Zack Malibu

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Zack Malibu, Jimmy The Doom, Charlie Matthews, Calvin Szechstein

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Alan looks back up into the ring, his bitter OAOAST rival Zack Malibu understandably putting the badmouth on him. The two have waged many wars in the past year. But never, never, has Alan smiled back at Zack, until tonight. Malibu seems genuinely creeped out at Alan's eeirely cheer reaction to the elimination, going quickly back to the action.

 

 

At which point, the crowd remember the Clusterfuck counter.

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

No sooner has Alan gone than his replacement is on the way. And it's an equally odd customer, as "The Theme From The Apprentice" begins to play.

 

"You've got to be..."

 

Sure enough, the distinctive Donald Trump hairstyle appears through the curtains. And after a quick flattening down of the 'do, Matt Myers begins his walk to the ring, warmly waving and even stopping to shake hands with the patrons of Memphis, Tennessee. And Alan Clark, as they pass in the aisle.

 

"Introducing, from 'The hit NBC series, The Apprentice', please welcome MATT "THE DONALD" MMMMYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRSSSSSSS!!!"

 

"Who thought this would be a good idea?"

 

"Is... that a trick question?" asks Mak with a wry smile.

 

As 'The Donald' continues his walk to the ring, Michael Stephens has ducked back into the ring and away from elimination. Grappler tries to make up for it by throwing out Zyon instead...

 

 

 

 

 

...but Zyon survives intact as well.

 

From behind, Zack goes on the attack on Grappler, clubbing away on the bigman with little success. It's only when he convinces Michael Stephens to help out that he does any lasting damage, the Malibu/Stephens team hooking Grappler up and executing a double Russian Legsweep. As Grappler tries to roll out of harm's way, Stephens' eyes lock on Zack, the OAOAST poster-boy naively turning his back on The Sensation...

 

 

 

 

...lucky then that Calvin Szechstein is paying attention, bundling Stephens down before he can pounce on Malibu.

 

"SEE! See Mak, he was going to double-cross Malibu, right there! He cannot be trusted!"

 

"It's like he keeps saying, it's every man for himself."

 

"Ah baloney! Stephens is a cheap-shot artist, the sooner everyone in this Clusterfuck realises that and groups together to throw him out, the better. For everyone. And then we... what the HELL?"

 

King is clearly not gald to see Matt Myers heading his way, the loveable JTTS come world reknowned billionaire shaking hands all the way around the length of the ring. A warm handshake is accepted by Mak, but King just tells Myers to 'keep on moving'.

 

"UHR FARHD!" is Myers' (only slightly) unintelligable response, vocal impressions apparantly not his speciality.

 

"Why nobody has said that to him before is beyond me."

 

On continues Myers on his meet and greet.

 

Back in the real world, Calvin and Zack take out Stephens with a double clothesline. The Cadillac Boys don't lord it over the Tag Team Champion for long, as Charlie Matthews appears and he being the bigger threat, they target him instead.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

A knifedge from Zack.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

A knifedge from Calvin.

 

 

 

*YAWN!*

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

Only for Grappler to trap them in a double side headlock to slow them down!

 

"I don't know who they've got in charge of the sound effects, but he needs to tone it down a bit."

 

Finally Matt 'The Donald' Myers enters the fray, just in time to get knocked flat on his ass as The Cadillac Boys collectively shoot Grappler off and out of the headlocks, right into Myers' path. Grappler looks down at Myers and shakes his head, before turning around and eating a double dropkick from the SWF's newest duo!

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"Did that idiot Myers really take this long to get to the ring?"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"Apparantly so."

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON…

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don’t you cry no more…

 

The opening guitar riffs of “Carry On My Wayward Son” by Kansas play out number twelve. Ricky Barbosa, getting about as great of a reaction as his hero, Alan Clark did earlier.

 

"Hailing from the City Of Champions... "THE WAYWARD SON"... RRRRRIIIIIIICCKKYYYYYYY BBAAAAAARRRRRBBOOOOOOOSSSSAAAAAA!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Yet another oddity on the SWF roster, Ricky Barbosa."

 

"This guy loved The Wayward Sons stable, right?" asks King, not particularly expecting an answer. "I say he wins, hands down, in the oddity stakes."

 

Barbosa isn't in any particular rush, soaking in the Clusterfuck atmosphere, just happy to be here. Even despite the crowd's lack of passion towards him.

 

"Even with Matt Myers dressed as Donald Trump and a native of 'Doomtopia' with an irrational hatred of sandwiches waiting on him in this Clusterfuck field?"

 

"He's an obsessive Alan Clark fan. He's clearly not got all his oars in the water."

 

"He doesn't HAVE oars King." points out The Franchise, validly. "Now who's the odd one? Huh? Maybe he's the only sane one and it's everyone else is odd."

 

"Nope, he liked Coy West too."

 

The young eighteen year old steps into the fray and almost stumbles upon his first piece of action, Matt Myers too busy fixing his Donald Trump hair to pay attention to the new entrant. Barbosa leaps up and wraps his right leg around the back of Myers' head with a Spinning Heel Kick, messing up the hair yet again. A little too over-excited, Barbosa starts to beckon everybody on now, ready to take on all comers.

 

Until, that is, The Cadillac Boys loom towards him.

 

 

 

*WHA - WHAM!*

 

Luckily for young Barbosa, help is at hand, Charlie Matthews wiping out Zack and Calvin with two mighty rear clotheslines. Matthews now looms over Barbosa, but the rookie seems a lot more trusting of him, shaking the beefy hand of the Grappler and informing him that he's a big fan. Nodding his head, Grappler seems momentarily interested. Not here to win any fans, that moment lasts a lot shorter than it would during an autograph session or one of the SWF's many marketing campaigns. They wouldn't end with a short knee to the gut and a big POWERBOMB, poor Barbosa bouncing off the canvas and coiling up in a defensive ball.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"I guess Charlie didn't think much of the Wayward Sons either!" crows King.

 

Grappler doesn't think much of Matt Myers either it would seem, as he is next on the hitlist. As he gets to his feet, 'The Donald' sees that something is up when the light above him blocks out. And when Grappler rears back to strike him, Myers does the first thing he can think to do.

 

 

 

He produces a handful of hundred dollar bills!!

 

"Woah!"

 

"How much are we paying this moron?"

 

"Too much, by the looks of things." admits Mak.

 

Understandably, at the sight of the green, Grappler stops short of punching 'The Donald'. He's not one for compliments apparantly. But money? Sure, why not. So Grappler spares Myers' life and accepts the wad of cash, almost a wry smile on the usually stoic grappler's face as he begins to count his winnings.

 

 

"...hey, this is Monopoly money! What the fu..."

 

 

*SMA-

-SMACK!*

 

DOUBLE SUPERKICK!!

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

The Cadillac Boys take out Charlie with stereo superkicks, as Matt Myers scampers around trying to keep out of harm's way. As Zack and Calvin then begin to concentrate on getting Grappler back up and out of the match, Myers rushes past them again. This time, on the attack, as Barbosa gets back to his feet...

 

 

 

 

 

...AND TAKES A CLOTHESLINE THAT SENDS HIM SPILLING OUT OF THE 'FUCK!!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Carry on my Wayward Son, right on back to the locker room!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ricky Barbosa

ENTERED: 12th

LEFT: 5th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Matt 'The Donald' Myers

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Zack Malibu, Jimmy The Doom, Charlie Matthews, Calvin Szechstein, Matt 'The Donald' Myers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Even on the back of his recent victories, Myers still looks a little surprised that he's actually eliminated someone in a Clusterfuck.

 

 

Unfortunately, it means he stops paying attention to everyone around him. Namely Michael Stephens, not giving two flying hoots about Donald Trump being an Englishman and striding up behind Myers...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...TOSSING HIM OUT TO THE FLOOR, HAIR AND ALL!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Wow, what about that reaction?"

 

"That's the reaction he deserves!" snaps King. "Okay, so it was only Matt Myers, but damnit it's yet another scumbag, cheapshot, bottom of the barrel move from Toxxic!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt 'The Donald' Myers

ENTERED: 11th

LEFT: 6th

ELIMINATED: Ricky Barbosa

ELIMINATED BY: Michael Stephens

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Zack Malibu, Jimmy The Doom, Charlie Matthews, Calvin Szechstein

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"YOU SCREWED MY - ERS!"

"YOU SCREWED MY - ERS!"

 

"Oh, give it a bloody rest would ya?" Stephens asks of the crowd, probably semi-serious too. Stephens then hovers back towards the 'Fuck fray, making sure he doesn't fall victim to a surprise elimination attempt himself.

 

"Look at him, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth." King says disgutedly. "I tell you, he's lucky I didn't accept the invitation to enter this year, it seems like I'm the only one who can see what's going on here!"

 

"No, we see. We just don't care that much."

 

"Oh hardy har. You wait until he stabs one of your favourites in the back, then we'll see."

 

"See what?"

 

...

 

For those of you wondering on the where-abouts of Jimmy The Doom, wonder no more. Doom sneaks up on Stephens' blindside and dropkicks him in the shoulder. Stephens goes crashing, the wears and tears of the 'Fuck beginning to have an effect on him as he stays slumped near the corner. Zyon is in a similar position underneath the bottom rope on the opposite side of the ring. But when he sees Stephens in trouble he gets a sudden burst of adrenaline, running Jimmy off before grabbing hold of Stephens by the head and turning him into the ropes, yet again hauling Stephens up across the top turnbuckle! Stephens is hanging precariously, half and half over the metal buckle.

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

Doom meanwhile sits back as the count is on, happy to wait on the next entrant rather than help out The Unique Youth and avoid any corner sandwiching situations.

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

 

"EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!"

 

C&C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat", quite possibly one of their top ten hits, pounds through the P.A and we're set for a battle of EPIC proportions, as THE CRIMSON SKULL has returned!!

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, now residing in Kiev in the Ukraine... here is THE CCRRRRRIIIIIMMMSSSOOOOOOONN SSSSSSKKUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLL!!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

The Evil Super Villian catches sight of Jimmy and the two former arch-rivals lock eyes. Infact, maybe not so much 'former', as in the best super villian tradition Skull's eyes narrow and he runs to the ring. Jimmy is waiting on him and as soon as Skull slides in, Doom is on him, a mighty slugfest erupting between the mysterious beings!

 

"Jimmy The Doom and The Crimson Skull, renewing their acquaintances!" cheers Mak. "No live sharks to deal with this time, although the way this Clusterfuck has been going I wouldn't rule it completely out."

 

The rest of the action is insignificant now as Doom and Skull brawl around the ring, with no regard with anyone else around them. Zack Malibu is forced to get out of the way in the middle of stomping Charlie Matthews, as they collapse towards one corner of the ring, bouncing back out like some sort of two-man spinning top and finally breaking free of each other. Skull lands an EVIL~! right hand, but Doom fires right back with the Hand Of Doom right to the throat!

 

"No sign of Lois The Unethical tonight," Mak suddenly notices, "I hope with Skull in the arena that's not a bad sign."

 

Winded from the throat strike, Skull quickly pulls out the old boxing standby, locking his arms around Doom's shoulders and muscling back into the ropes. There's no referee to break the holding up, unlike a boxing match however. So the two just remain in some sort of quasi-hug, exchanging evil, not entirely English threats to one another.

 

Michael Stephens has fought Zyon off in the nearby corner, the number one and two entrants squaring off yet again, this time a lot more exhausted than the first. Before they can strike though, Zyon tells The Sensation to stop, pointing to Doom and Skull. Stephens grins a little. And the enemies call a temporary truse, shrugging their shoulders...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...AND SHOVING THEM BOTH OUT OF THE 'FUCK!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"I think these people wanted to see more of Skull and Doom going at it."

 

"They obviously didn't see Genesis then."

 

"...Jimmy The Doom and The Crimson Skull, both gone from the 'Fuck and five men remain, with seven yet to enter."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Crimson Skull

ENTERED: 13th

LEFT: 7th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Zyon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy The Doom

ENTERED: 7th

LEFT: 8th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Michael Stephens

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Zack Malibu, Charlie Matthews, Calvin Szechstein

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Popping up to their feet, Doom and Skull take a moment to realise what happened... and in the next moment, they're back on the attack, resuming their fight on their way towards the backstage area!

 

Meanwhile, Stephens and Zyon are back face to face. Zyon seems to ask Stephens why he didn't try cheapshotting him out of the match again and the war of words doesn't take long to escalate into a more physical war. In comes Stephens with a European Uppercut, The Unique Youth stumbles backwards but pushes The Sensation away before he can strike again, firing off the front dropkick known as 'Snap'. Cue the 'Oh, SNAP!' jokes. Usually Zyon would kip-up, but this deep into the 'Fuck he doesn't really have enough in him, preferring instead to climb back to his feet and put the boots to Stephens.

 

"I'm sure he's got his sights set on victory, the World Title, the Clusterfuck on his CV, proving Joseph Peters wrong, all of that. But right now, it seems like Zyon won't be satisfied until he's eliminated Michael Stephens."

 

"Me neither." King sneers. "Maybe they can eliminate each other, really make my day."

 

Zyon keeps the attack on Stephens, while Grappler is now fighting back now on The Cadillac Boys. A big shove sends Calvin hard into a corner, Grappler wasting Malibu with a big right hand before following Calvin into the corner and crushing him with a clothesline! Down slumps Calvin, as Grappler turns back to Zack, the preppy superstar positioned with his back to Charlie. So Grappler ducks low and heaves Zack up onto his shoulders, positioning him in the Torture Rack!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Submissions mean nought in the Clusterfuck, at least now. So Charlie begins to inch back towards the ropes, ready to dump Malibu over and out. Spotting the trouble his partner is in, Szechstein bursts into action, just as Matthews reaches the ropes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...pulling Zack off of Grappler's shoulders to safety!! Grappler ends up stumbling a little, the ropes tempting him back towards The Cadillac Boys, who are waiting with a double clothesline!

 

"Grappler's in trouble!"

 

He manages not to teeter or totter over the top the first time. But again the ropes bounce him back, into a second double clothesline!

 

"He's going King, Charlie's going!"

 

"Don't worry, he's just lulling them in..."

 

Zack and Calvin nod to each other, making one last run-up on their most meaningful double clothesline yet...

 

 

 

...connecting before Grappler can bounced away from the ropes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...AND SENDING HIM TUMBLING OUT, TO A MEGA POP~!

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

See.

 

"...crap."

 

"Charlie Matthews is done for the night! And somewhere, Tom Flesher is weeping."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie 'Grappler' Matthews

ENTERED: 9th

LEFT: 9th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Zack Malibu, Calvin Szechstein

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Zack Malibu, Calvin Szechstein

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

As Grappler lands, the fans' attention is grabbed by the Clusterfuck timer winding down.

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"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"For the record, Tom doesn't weep." insists King, as Calvin and Zack stop and recover.

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"And besides that, what makes you think Tom had anything to do with Grappler being in this year's 'Fuck? He's not one to abuse power."

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"Well, either way, Charlie Matthews won't be the first two-time Clusterfuck winner after tonight..."

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

 

"Tell me exactly, what am I supposed to do

Now that I have allowed you, to beat me!"

 

"...BUT THIS MAN MIGHT BE!!"

 

Do you think that we could play another game

Maybe I could win this ti-ime."

 

"Damnit, I forgot about him!" moans King.

 

"I kinda like the misery you put me through

Darling you can trust me, completely!

If you even try to look the other way

I think that I could kill this ti-ime!"

 

As "The Game" by Disturbed powers through The Pyramid, the crowd are on their feet, for number fourteen! A former Clusterfuck winner being replaced by another, Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix!

 

"From Huron, South Dakota by way of Madrid, Spain... one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions... LLLAAAAANNDDOOOOOOONN "LA CUCARACHA" MMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAADDIIIIIIIXXXXXXX!!!"

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Maddix comes thundering down to the ring at top speed, diving into the ring and popping right up to his feet. Obviously, you'd expect his first target to by Zyon.

 

 

You'd be wrong. Instead, Landon turns his attentions to Zack Malibu, the man that cut his attempts to be the first man to win both the Clusterfuck and the OAOAST's Lethal Rumble in their career short at the final hurdle.

 

 

 

 

Turn about is fair play.

 

 

 

 

 

*THUD!*

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Landon flips the unsuspecting Malibu up and over the top, looking over the ropes with a satisfied smile.

 

"And what an impact Landon makes, just seconds after coming in!"

 

"Oh, here we go." groans King. Again. "Call me when somebody I like comes in or someone I don't like goes Mak, I'll be daydreaming about cereal."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zack Malibu

ENTERED: 6th

LEFT: 10th

ELIMINATED: Alan Clark, Charlie Matthews (co)

ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Zyon, Calvin Szechstein, Landon Maddix

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Landon bypasses Calvin now, heading over to save his fellow Tag Team Champion. He doesn't make it that far before Calvin hauls him back by the waistband of the shorts though, spinning Landon around and landing a quick succession of right hands. Hooking the head, Calvin then sits out, forcing Maddix to taste a sample of Willy Wonka's World-Famous Jawbreaker!

 

"Maddix is in pain King."

 

"Oh, goody!" smiles King, putting down his PSP. Hope he pressed Pause first.

 

As Maddix stumbles around holding his jaw, Calvin makes for the opposite ropes. Still fresh, Maddix is able to shake the effects of the move off in time to intercept though, leaping up and cutting Calvin off on his way back with a Dropsault!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

Landing on one knee, Landon throws out his arms and poses just to make the move look that more spectacular. Landon then helps Calvin back up, aiming him out to the ropes and looking to send him off empty-handed to the back with his partner...

 

 

 

 

...BUT CALVIN REVERSES...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...MADDIX HOOKING THE TOP ROPE TO SAVE HIMSELF!!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

Skinning the cat back inside, Landon drops down to lower ground and decides not to be quite so pro-active anymore. Calvin has moved on meanwhile, watching as Zyon begins to pull Michael Stephens up and hangs him up over the top rope. One quick flip and Stephens is on his way, Zyon sensing that this time, finally, he's going to get his revenge!

 

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."

 

"YES! Throw them both out Calvin, you'll have a fan for life here!" clamours King.

 

Well aware that his tag team partner is in the ring, Stephens starts to wave for some help. It's not Landon who appears though. Calvin sees The Englishman's pleas for help and sees an opportunity with it, as Zyon starts to kick away Stephens' defences...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...UNTIL CALVIN SNEAKS UP AND PITCHES HIM CLEAN TO THE FLOOR!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Unbelievable!" cries Mak. "Zyon is gone!"

 

"Okay, one down two to go Cal!"

 

"Zyon put in one hell of an effort, all the way from number two. But his obsession with eliminating Michael Stephens from this Clusterfuck has cost him! He turned his back on the rest of the competition and just like that, he finds himself thrown out of the running."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zyon

ENTERED: 2nd

LEFT: 11th

ELIMINATED: Insane Luchador, Crimson Skull

ELIMINATED BY: Calvin Szechstein

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Calvin Szechstein, Landon Maddix

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As he hits the floor, Zyon looks up with his head in his hands, unable to believe it.

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

Yet again, he's been too trusting.

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

And yet again, when his back was turned, it's bit him in the ass when he least expected it.

 

"YOU SCREWED ZY - ON!"

 

Calvin seems a little surprised by the reception. After all, it's every man for himself, it's not like he did anything so dispicable really. If anything, he actually saved Michael Stephens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Which makes it all the more shocking when Stephens rolls back in AND TOSSES CALVIN OUT OVER THE TOP, CALVIN UNABLE TO STOP HIMSELF BEFORE HE HITS THE ARENA FLOOR!!!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

The entire crowd reacts in shock. Calvin is shocked. Even Landon Maddix looks shocked as he watches from across the ring, Calvin slamming his fists into the apron and pointing a finger up at Stephens, who just shrugs his shoulders.

 

"You... WHAT DID I TELL YOU MAK!?"

 

"And now Calvin is gone too! He didn't see it coming... I don't think anyone did to be honest!"

 

"Yeah, you know, except ME! And Tom. And Zyon. What did I tell you Mak!? What did I tell you!? Michael Stephens can NOT be trusted! Calvin just saved his Limey arse and what does he do? He turns right back around and he stabs Calvin directly in the back! And this is your hero Mak? This is the hero of these people? Bollocks! Bollocks, as he would say!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Calvin Szechstein

ENTERED: 10th

LEFT: 12th

ELIMINATED: Charlie Matthews (co), Zyon

ELIMINATED BY: Michael Stephens

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Landon Maddix

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As the dejected Calvin is directed off to the back, Stephens figures that life must go on, regardless. And so must the Clusterfuck, turning around and smiling as he sees Landon sat on the opposite side of the ring, watching on. Stephens points out to his partner that 'it's just you and me, mate', garnering a nervous smile from La Cucaracha as he begins to climb to his feet, eyes on Stephens at all times.

 

"Well, just like that, the Clusterfuck has gone elimination crazy!" Mak enthuses, trying to change the subject. "We are down to just two right now. And what a two, the Tag Team Champions! If they play their cards right, they could deal with the remaining six entrants with ease!"

 

"Until Stephens stabs Maddix in the back, of course."

 

The Tag Champs don't have to worry about a possible confrontation, as Landon points out the Clusterfuck timer to his partner.

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

Maddix pulls himself up and goes over the gameplan with Stephens, to ambush number fifteen the moment he comes out. Not that The Englishman really needs it explaining. But after what happened with Calvin, you can forgive Landon for needing some re-assurances.

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"Here comes unlucky number fifteen..."

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

For a moment, silence.

 

Then, a string orchestra can be heard playing a sweetly disturbing tune. The Smarktron comes to life, simply displaying a white ankh (?). Pyros flash as they climb the ramp, from ringside to entrance. The screen flashes as drums and guitar join in Cradle of Filth's "Born in a Burial Gown". A burst of flame announcing the arrival of JIMMY "THE DEMON" LISTON!!

 

And then, more silence.

 

"What.. the.. hell?"

 

"From Boston, Mass. ...here is JIMMY "THE DEEEEEEMMOOOOOONN"... LLLLLLIIIIIIISSSSSSTTOOOOOOOONN!!!"

 

The crowd look confused, but they've got nothing on Michael Stephens, watching as his long-forgotten, once-tag team partner walking to the ring.

 

"Oh my God Mak, it's the re-union of... of... you know, that team. Liston and Toxxic."

 

"Psychological Warfare."

 

"Hang on, there's no WAY you can remember that of the top of your head! I'm not sure Stephens even remembers it!"

 

"Apparantly he does."

 

As Liston slides into the ring, Maddix gets set to attack. But suddenly something stops him, seeing the look on Michael Stephens' face as he comes face to face with The Demon for the first time in years.

 

 

And when Liston actually HUGS Michael Stephens!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Oh, so THAT'S why they used to team together!"

 

This unexpected turn of events causes noticeable panic for Maddix. After all, it's not like Stephens ever hugged him. Stephens' expression is hard to read as he pats Liston on the shoulder, the duo once known as Psychological Warfare turning to Landon... and signalling that they're going to get him!

 

"Oh, don't tease me like this Lord." pleads King, looking up at the ceiling of The Pyramid.

 

Suddenly, the two on one tables have been turned and Maddix begins to beg off, trying to talk his tag team partner around. No time for that though, as Liston suddenly charges headlong at him! Maddix ducks low, crawling past Liston and taking his chances as he climbs back up, right into Stephens' path. As Stephens rushes forward, Landon then dives for cover...

 

 

 

...and Liston gets cut down with a Soccer Tackle as he turns back around!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

"SWERVE~!"

 

Maddix, cowering in the centre of the ring, breathes a sigh of relief as Stephens quickly scoops Liston up...

 

 

 

 

...AND TOSSES HIM OUT, not a moment too soon.

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

"Well, that was odd. Par for the course I guess."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy 'The Demon' Liston

ENTERED: 15th

LEFT: 13th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Michael Stephens

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Landon Maddix

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Anyway, we're back down to Landon and Stephens again." points out Mak, for the blind viewers amongst us.

 

"And notice, Landon keeping his eyes on Stephens at all times. Smart move."

 

Suddenly a little more relieved with life, Landon realises where his partner's true loyalties lie and thanks him for not turning on him for a former lov... tag partner. A high-five is offered.

 

And rejected.

 

"Uh-oh."

 

The trademark lopsided grin of Michael Stephens has disappeared. Instead, he looks at the only opponent currently left in the match, exactly like he is. An opponent. Maddix's eyes bug out as he realises Stephens is serious as he begins to stalk towards him, pointing to an imaginary watch on his wrist and telling him to hold on until number sixteen comes out. But Stephens isn't waiting, keeping on stalking towards La Cucaracha. Making the belt motion around his waist, Landon tries in vain to remind The Englishman as if needed that they're partner. But Stephens just keeps on stalking forward...

 

 

 

...until, faced with no other choice, Landon lunges out with a boot to the gut!

 

"RRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

"Alright!!"

 

"The Tag Team Champions explode!" cheers Mak. "This is what the Clusterfuck is all about."

 

"Especially if they eliminate each other!"

 

Landon soon regets that boot as Stephens is even more serious about his intentions now, not just stalking but running towards The Next Generation. Away skips Landon, pleading for some reasoning and rationality. Not happening. Stephens returns the boot and whips Maddix into the ropes, sliding at him on the rebound with a Soccer Tackle. The Spaniard does what no Spaniard footballer would really do, avoiding the tackle (rather than feeding the leg, then rolling around in agony for 45 minutes hoping for a red card) by hurdling over top. As Stephens comes back up, Landon is waiting.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

Knifedge chop connects.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

And a second. Stephens is already winded from his exertions so far and can't fight back...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

...before a third finds the mark. The red mark, being formed on Stephens' bare chest. With Stephens hurting, Landon takes a run-up and hits the ropes in front. His head of steam is for nought though, as The Englishman suddenly scytches forward, this time CONNECTING with the Soccer Tackle!! Landon goes flying forward, faceplanting into the canvas. And as he hobbles back up, La Cucaracha seems more concerned with his looks than what might be coming next, checking his chin for blood just as Stephens creeps up and hooks it. Stephens makes for the ropes, trying the Shiranui again...

 

 

 

...and failing, Maddix giving his partner a firm shove in the back and sending him crashing sternum first into the buckles!

 

"These two men know each other so well of course!" notes Mak. "The history between Landon and Toxxic just writes itself."

 

Out of the corner stumbles Stephens, right back into the waiting arms of La Cucaracha. A simple forearm across the back sets Stephens up in position, up to the middle rope Landon climbing before leaping overhead with the Mushroom Stomp...

 

 

 

...SIDESTEPPED, Landon landing on his feet and managing not to buckle either of his knees. With a quick 360, Landon throws a forearm. A quick duck of the head is all Stephens needs to avoid that wild strike though, catching Maddix under the head and arm and drilling him with the Side Effect!!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

"Both men are down now. Maddix and Stephens, the Tag Team Champions, holding nothing back here in the Clusterfuck!"

 

"Which has to be classed as a mistake, surely?" criticises King. "Don't get me wrong, the sight of these two beating the tar out of each other is always fine with me. But surely they should be working together, especially this late on in the 'Fuck?"

 

In the excitement of this exchange, the fans have forgotten about the timer.

 

Most of them, anyway.

 

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

Pink Floyd's "Learning To Fly" hits for the second time tonight, this time playing out Jay Hawke. And he's already on the way, sliding into the ring at full speed, determined to take advantage of this opening as Landon remains down and Stephens is left recovering on his knees.

 

"From Cleveland, Ohio... "THE DEAN OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING"... JJJAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY HHHAAAAAWWWWWWKKEEEEEE!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Alright, here we go!" cheers King, thankful for one of his favourites on the way.

 

"Jay Hawke might have got the perfect draw here. Both Stephens and Maddix are down, he can pick his spots right now."

 

"Hawke doesn't do 'spots'. That's the other two's problem."

 

Hawke goes right after Michael Stephens, driving the point of his elbow into the back of The Englishman's neck. And again. Hawke then executes a quick snap suplex on Stephens, before his attentions turn to Landon Maddix. A quick scoop positions Landon up on his shoulder, Jay able to parade around briefly with the two hundred, six pounder before bringing him down across the knee with a Shoulderbreaker!

 

"This is a clinic. Jay Hawke is going to pick these two apart, until there's nothing left but trash waiting to be thrown out." smiles King, rethinking on the spot. "Of course, he has a significant head-start, considering who he's dealing with."

 

"JAY HAWKE SUCKS!"

"JAY HAWKE SUCKS!"

"JAY HAWKE SUCKS!"

"JAY HAWKE SUCKS!"

 

As Landon rolls under the bottom rope and grapevines it for safety, slightly pathetic but not bad strategy really, Hawke tries the same tactic with Stephens. The scoop works. But Stephens sneaks off of Hawke's shoulder, landing behind Jay with the head hooked in an inverted front facelock. Before anything can come of it, Jay spins out into a front facelock, wrapping his arms around Stephens' waist and driving him back into the turnbuckles.

 

 

*OOF!*

 

The wind rushes out of The Englishman's lungs, leaving him softened up for Hawke's attempt to eliminate him. Hawke sits Stephens up on the top turnbuckle and forces forward, Stephens being tipped to the side and forced to lock his legs around the buckle to give himself some stability!

 

"Hawke's got Stephens on the verge! He's got to keep an eye out for Landon though!"

 

"So should Stephens," counters King, "Maddix is no better than he is really. I wouldn't put it past him to help out Hawke."

 

Stephens front-facelocks Hawke, which puts "The Dean Of Professional Wrestling" in a bit of a catch-22 situation. If Stephens goes, Jay is going with him. So Hawke gives Stephens one last push and scrambles away...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...STEPHENS LEFT HANGING UPSIDE DOWN IN A TREE OF WOE, ONLY OUTSIDE THE RING...

 

 

 

 

 

...but before Hawke can put the finishing touches on him, Landon attacks from behind.

 

*CHING!*

 

"YYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

 

"See!" cries King, again. He really needs to switch to decaf. "They're both cheating scum!"

 

Down goes Hawke, as Maddix rushes over and gives Stephens a helping hand back into the ring. The Englishman slumps in the corner and takes advantage of the chance of a rest, leaving Landon to go back to Hawke, scooping him off the canvas and landing a forearm to the face! Hawke responds in kind! But Landon is a step ahead...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

...faking out on the next forearm and instead connecting with a knifedge chop to the chest! He soon regrets that move, the arm Hawke shoulderbroke earlier the same one that lashes across The Dean Of Professional Wrestling's chest. As Landon nurses the arm, Hawke lands a quick back elbow, before turning off to the ropes. A clothesline is the intended attack, but Landon sees it coming a mile off, ducking the head...

 

 

 

...and driving "The Dean" face-first right back to the canvas with the Complete Shot!

 

"YYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

With Hawke dazed, Maddix rolls over and starts to lock on THE LAND OF NOD!

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

But Hawke is blocking it, contorting the attacking arm to prevent the inverted front facelock getting locked in.

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"Number seventeen, we're coming down to the real lucky entrants now."

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

The arena sits dark, silent as a guttural, distorted warbling plays over the speakers, bringing the fans to their feet as tension in the arena builds. Then a final growl kicks “Scientific Remote Viewing” by Cephalic Carnage into full gear, as the lights flare up. Flashing strobes begin to pulse when the entrance curtain parts and MANSON walks out onto the stage, obscured from head to toe in his tattered brown cloak.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"And what a draw for MANSON!"

 

"From this number, MANSON has got a GREAT shot at shocking the world tonight! My money's on him right now!" enthuses King, apparantly forgetting he's already $20 down from Grappler earlier.

 

MANSON strides down the aisle, completely focused on the ring, while a few long chains drag along, scraping the ramp behind him.

 

Meanwhile, the Land Of Nod has been fully countered now, Hawke pulling Landon down into a Fujiwara Armbar! Maddix yells out in pain, Stephens seeing his partner in trouble and pulling himself up in the corner ready to make the save. Which is just when MANSON enters the ring, knocking him right back into the corner with an elbow strike and following him in with yet more vicious strikes!

 

 

*TAPTAPTAP!*

 

"He's tapping! Maddix is tapping, get him out of there!"

 

"King, it's onl..."

 

"I don't care, just get him out!"

 

Hawke releases the armbar and stomps away on Maddix, MANSON doing the same thing in the corner to Michael Stephens.

 

"LET'S GO LAN - DON!"

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"LET'S GO LAN - DON!"

"TOXXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

The fans route on the Tag Team Champions, against the odds as Hawke and MANSON do their thing. MANSON chokes away on Stephens in the corner. He then drags Stephens out and hoists him up into a fireman's carry, walking The Englishman towards the centre of the ring and before throwing him up...

 

 

 

...and DOWN across two raised knees, gut first!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Stephens can't last much longer taking those sort of moves, he's been in since number one."

 

"Has he!?" shouts King in shocked surprise. "Because, you know, people might just now be tuning in."

 

MANSON and Hawke exchange a look and decide not to attack each other. Just yet. They just put the boots to their respective opponents some more.

 

 

 

Which is when Jay Hawke pulls MANSON down into the WING SPAN!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"What about that King?"

 

"What? They're not tag partners, they haven't helped each other. Not a double-cross in my book."

 

"Could you be any more bias?"

 

"Yeah, but I'm trying to cut down."

 

MANSON begins to thrash around in the hold...

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

As the counter winds down again.

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

On The SmarkTron, the fuse on a stick of dynamite burns down as “Mission Impossible” by the James Taylor Quartet plays. Johnny Dangerous comes running out from the back and the crowd go wild, despite having already seen The Barracuda once tonight.

 

"From Las Vegas, Nevada... JJJOOOOOOHHHHHHNNYYYYYY DDAAAAAAAANNGGEEEEERRROOOOOUUUUSSSSS!!!"

 

"YYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

 

"Former World Heavyweight Champion!" The Franchise reminds everyone. "Johnny Dangerous looking to become the 007th winner of the SWF Clusterfuck!"

 

"That's horrible. All of it. The pun, the thought of it happening..."

 

"It's a very real possibility at this stage."

 

Dangerous enters and targets the weakest man in the match, the number one entrant. The number one entrant who's down holding his gut, Dangerous targetting him with a couple of soccer kicks. Dangerous doesn't leave Landon Maddix out, stomping his long-time adversary in the side of the head, before dragging Stephens up to his feet. Into the fireman's carry goes Stephens again, still hurting from MANSON's contribution and unable to fight back as Johnny runs across the ring. Before he gets to the ropes, Johnny tumbles forward, driving Stephens to the canvas with the Spinal Explosion!

 

"JO - HNNY!"

"JO - HNNY!"

"JO - HNNY!"

"JO - HNNY!"

 

As he rolls through to his feet, Dangerous hunts after his next victim. Landon Maddix climbs to his feet at just the wrong time, Johnny rearing back...

 

 

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

...catching him upside the head with a Shotei!

 

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 

Maddix drops like a stone at the hands of the expert striker, leaving Dangerous with a choice. Break up Jay Hawke's submission, or stay with the Tag Team Champions. So, he chooses Option B, dragging Landon up and to the ropes, trying to hoist up over the top. Maddix wraps himself around the ropes like some sort of primate, all the limbs tied up and preventing himself from being thrown over.

 

"That's an... interesting tactic." mumbles Mak.

 

"It's pathetic, is what it is."

 

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

 

Dangerous attacks the unprotected spine of Landon with some martial arts kicks...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...one...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...after another...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...after another...

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

...until Landon arms and legs untangle, falling back to the canvas at Johnny's feet. Johnny promptly drops a leg across the throat. He goes for a second, but doesn't get that far, as Jay Hawke has since released his submission hold and creeps up behind Dangerous, driving a double sledge to the back of the head before taking him over with a German Suplex!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Look at this, only Jay Hawke standing." King crows. "Just as it should be."

 

"Hawke is looking good right about now, but we've still got two men to enter yet. He's far from won the entire 'Fuck yet."

 

Hawke pops back up and like so many before him, gravitates towards Michael Stephens. In go the boots again, Hawke choking Stephens against the bottom turnbuckle.

 

Meanwhile, having realised the coast is finally clear, Landon flips Johnny over onto his back, leaping across the chest with a double stomp... and drops out into the accompanying back senton, for some double impact! Sat next to The Barracuda, then Maddix wipes the hair from his eyes and poses, to a mostly positive reaction, even if it is at the expense of Johnny Dangerous.

 

"Yeah, great move hotshot." sneers King. "Pity you can't eliminate anyone by flailing your arms around and feeding your ego."

 

Climbing back to his feet, Maddix puts the boots to The Barracuda...

 

 

...as the timer (which seems oddly quicker all of a sudden, doesn't it?) runs down.

 

 

"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

“Protect Ya Neck” by Wu-tang Clan hits and the final confirmed entrant, Akira Kaibatsu, makes his way out. No fuss, no muss (muss?), Akira simply jogs to the ring to the cheers of the crowd.

 

"From Sendai, Japan... "THE DIVINE WIND"... AAAAAAAKKIIIIIIRRRRRRRAAAAAAA KKAAAAAIIIIIBBAAAAAATTSSSSSSUUUUUUUUUU!!!"

 

"YYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

 

Akira tumbles into the ring, flipping the unsuspecting Hawke's standing leg from under him...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...HAWKE'S MOMENTUM SAVING HIM, as he lands BUTT-first on the apron and rolls back in, with little more than a sore arse to show for it.

 

Akira meanwhile moves on, POWERDRIVING~ an elbow into the upper back of the recovering MANSON! Pulling himself up on the ropes, Landon sees Akira coming and lures him in...

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

...rocking The Divine Wind with a knifedge!

 

 

...but the second is ducked, Landon ending up doing a 360, right back into Akira...

 

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

...and a knifedge chop of his own! Stooping low, Akira then blasts Landon with a double-leg, forcing him up towards the ring ropes. A little unorthodox in his technique though. Landon's feet hit the floor before he reaches the ropes, Akira perservering and trying to deadlift him again to get rid of him.

 

"Well, only one entrant remains and your guess is as good as mine as to who it is." Mak confirms. "Our sixteen confirmed names have come and in many cases gone, leaving us just six men in contention for the 2007 Clusterfuck."

 

Johnny Dangerous is back up now, a little shaky but still relatively fresh. Joining Akira, Johnny grabs hold of one of Landon's legs looking to assist in the elimination. But for some reason, The Divine Wind doesn't seem to appreciate the assistance, elbowing Johnny in the back of the head and targetting him.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

Chop by Akira, to Johnny.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

Chop by Johnny, to Akira.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

Chop by Akira, to Johnny, again.

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

Chop by Landon, to Akira!

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

 

So Johnny lands a chop on Landon! Down goes The Next Generation, the distraction that causes Johnny allowing Akira to snap off a quick kick to the thigh. Another kick connects to the quadracep region. Trading chops is one thing. Trading kicks with Johnny Dangerous is another, one thrust kick to the gut almost launching Kaibatsu into the air from the force as he doubles over and falls to all fours!

 

"Ouch!"

 

"No kidding. Johnny Dangerous isn't a man you want to engage in unarmed combat, that's a pretty good indication of why."

 

Dangerous steps over the back of The Divine Wind and locks on a Camel Clutch, hoping to wear some more energy out of Akira's body. Landon sees this and decides to let The Secret Agent get on with it, crawling into a neutral corner. Out of sight and out of mind. Meanwhile, Hawke has Stephens back up, again looking for the Shoulderbreaker. Again Stephens slips out though. Only this time, as Jay tries to figure out where he is, Stephens is on the hop, hooking the head and springing off the top turnbuckle with the SHIRANUI!!

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Sunny In England!" cries Francis. "There's still life left in Michael Stephens!"

 

"Quiet would ya, I'm depressed enough as it is right now without you pointing stuff like that out."

 

Stephens stays down with Hawke, catching a well-deserved breather. Behind him, MANSON climbs to his feet and approaches the action, firing a Kesagiri Chop off into the pressure point of Johnny Dangerous' neck. A move, as a Secret Agent, Johnny is more familiar with administering... as he proves, by firing back with his own chop to the side of the neck. Both Dangerous and MANSON nurse their necks, both flagging a little from a tag match and a Crossface Chickenwing respectively, left prone as Landon Maddix suddenly leaps up and connects with a Dropsault, one foot for MANSON and one for Johnny!

 

"YYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

Everybody is down now, knees at best. The perfect time for the Clusterfuck timer.

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"TEN!"

 

"NINE!"

 

"Here we go..."

 

"EIGHT!"

 

"SEVEN!"

 

"...number twenty, all eyes turning to the entrance way..."

 

"SIX!"

 

"FIVE!"

 

"...and remember, we have no idea who's coming out here..."

 

"FOUR!"

 

"THREE!"

 

"...but whoever it is, the Clusterfuck could be there's for the taking, looking at the ring right now."

 

"TWO!"

 

"ONE!"

 

*BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!*

 

 

 

 

[HEIGHT: 7’2”]

 

 

"RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

"Oh my God."

 

 

[WEIGHT: 320 pounds]

 

 

"YES! Haha, yes! Mak, this is beautiful!"

 

 

[sTATUS: RELEASED~]

 

Fear Factory's "Resurrection" rocks through the disbelieving Pyramid, and the crowd absolutely goes BANANAS, Landon's eyes bulging out of their sockets as yes, indeed, it is JANUS!!!!

 

"RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Ho - ly crap!" is Mak's mumbling response, as the giant Australian(s) strides through the entrance way and on to the ring! No emotion seems to register on the bigman's face, as he heads for the ring, towering over everybody lining the aisle and plenty who aren't. Infact, he's roughly on eye level with the twelfth row, although that may just be the camera angle.

 

"Bodies are gonna FLY Mak!"

 

"You could be looking at the next Clusterfuck winner... hell, you could be looking at the next SWF World Heavyweight Champion right now! There are no more entrants! What you see is what you get and who the HELL is going to eliminate Janus!?"

 

"Nobody! Even if all of the guys in the ring gang up and make it six on one... or, six on two, whatever... point is, I don't think even that'll be enough to get rid of The Hell Machine!"

 

Janus climbs up the ring steps, in over the top rope, surveying the field. Stephens is down. Hawke is down. Johnny, MANSON, ditto. Akira Kaibatsu is beginning to recover now, pulling himself up via the ropes. And there's Landon Maddix, of course, frozen in fear on his knees and begging for mercy as Janus stalks towards him. Janus, predictably, shows no mercy what-so-ever. Reaching down, they grab hold of Maddix around the throat with one gigantic hand, hauling The Next Generation to his feet...

 

 

 

...off his feet...

 

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

 

...and DESTROYS him with a CHOKESLAM!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Landon goes limp in the centre of the ring, as Akira steps into The Hell Machine's eyeline. Which proves to be a big mistake, as Janus presses The Divine Wind over his head, treating the one hundred, ninety five pounder like he was nothing as he carries him over to the ropes...

 

 

 

 

 

*SPLAT!*

 

"OHH!"

 

...AND DUMPS HIM TO THE ARENA FLOOR!!!

 

"HO - LY SHIT!"

"HO - LY SHIT!"

"HO - LY SHIT!"

"HO - LY SHIT!"

 

"That's one down." calls King, incompassionately. "And with every elimination, the odds turn more and more in Janus' favour!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Akira Kaibatsu

ENTERED: 19th

LEFT: 14th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Janus

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Landon Maddix, Jay Hawke, MANSON, Johnny Dangerous, Janus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As the referees around ringside rush to check on Akira, Janus watches on. With his back turned to the action however, allowing the fearless Secret Agent, Johnny Dangerous, to attack the giant Australian from behind with some fluid strikes. Jabs and thrusts fire up and down the back, Janus turning around in mid-flurry and palming Dangerous off, creating some space...

 

 

 

 

...but Dangerous ducks the Big Boot! Before The Hell Machine can turn back around, Johnny rushes him. Catching Janus by the hip, a quick squat would set-up the MI SLAM...

 

 

 

...if Janus wasn't three hundred, fifty pounds, that is. As it is, Johnny's back ends up giving out just as Janus's feet leave the canvas, leaving him prone as Janus grabs him by the throat and executes another CHOKESLAM!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Janus has come in and completely shaken up this Clusterfuck!" exclaims The Franchise. "Aside from Michael Stephens, the six other men were relatively fresh when Janus entered. But, they can't touch The Hell Machine!"

 

Across the ring from Janus, MANSON waits, crouched beside the ropes and waiting for the bigman to turn his way. The moment he does MANSON then rushes in, arm reared back for his Iron Cutting Sword...

 

 

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

 

...but he's intercepted, by a Big, BIG Boot!! The guts go unrewarded and in the end, look to have cost MANSON his chance at a place in the From The Fire main event, as Janus scoops him right back off the canvas...

 

 

 

 

...EFFORTLESSLY PITCHING HIM TO THE FLOOR AND OUT OF THE CLUSTERFUCK!!

 

"Wow! There goes another, MANSON this time, Janus with two quick eliminations!"

 

"Like nothing!" gaps King. "He threw MANSON like he was nothing!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MANSON

ENTERED: 17th

LEFT: 15th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Janus

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Landon Maddix, Jay Hawke, Johnny Dangerous, Janus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Watching as MANSON's body goes tumbling to the arena floor, Jay Hawke stops halfway on the way back to his feet and positions himself underneath the bottom turnbuckle, playing dead and hoping Janus won't notice him.

 

He needn't worry though, as they have other concerns.

 

Having trouble merely standing upright at this stage in the 'Fuck, Michael Stephens looks up (and up, and up) at the seven foot, two Australian in front of him. And, surprisingly, the natural reaction isn't to run or to cower. Stephens grins his trademark, lopsided grin as The Hell Machine's face creeps towards a grin as well. Not quite making it, but the thought is there.

 

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

"We saw these two come face-to-face a couple of weeks ago backstage," reminds Mak, as the two stare each other down, "which passed off almost without incident. Don't expect the same result right now though!"

 

"That's right! Stephens can't run from Janus, like he did on Storm!"

 

"I don't remember him running."

 

"As good as."

 

Both Stephens and Janus seem to be waiting for the other to make the first move, a situation which is sorted out by Jay Hawke, emerging from his hiding place and slamming into Stephens from behind. Stephens understandably wheels around towards who hit him, ready to make him pay, unable to follow through on his threats though as Janus takes his opening and pulls Stephens back by the hair, scooping The Englishman up with a double leg and DRIVING him down with a High Angled Spinebuster!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

As Janus stalks around the fallen four-time World Champion, Jay Hawke makes another sudden burst. As Johnny Dangerous clambers back to his feet, he finds himself caught from behind, lifted up in a rear waistlock...

 

 

 

...manoeuvered over the ropes...

 

 

 

 

 

...AND DROPPED TO THE FLOOR!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Dangerous couldn't defend himself after taking that Chokeslam, not to mention the effects of that tag team match earlier." explains Mak, as Hawke goes back to a defensive position in an unguarded corner.

 

"And credit Jay Hawke, known as 'The Dean Of Professional Wrestling' for more than just marketing purposes, smart enough to pick his opening at just the right time!"

 

"Which leaves us with four men in the Clusterfuck!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Johnny Dangerous

ENTERED: 18th

LEFT: 16th

ELIMINATED: N/A

ELIMINATED BY: Jay Hawke

LEFT IN RING: Michael Stephens, Landon Maddix, Jay Hawke, Janus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

With Hawke cowering and Maddix milking the effects of the Chokeslam, the activity is solely centered around Janus. The Hell Machine drags what's left of Michael Stephens to his feet, grabbing him by the throat and preparing for yet another Chokeslam!

 

"Get ready for that to become three in just a second, Mak!"

 

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

Janus grips hold of the waistband of Stephens' Tripp NYCs, hoists him off the canvas and...

 

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

 

 

...takes an elbow to the temple!!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"

 

"What the..."

 

To the surprise of anyone, Michael Stephens saves himself and draws on yet more reserve energy as he leaps off his now stationary feet, scoring with a Dropkick! The Hell Machine doesn't go down. They merely stumble back a step, forcing Stephens to execute a second dropkick!

 

"Look at the guts!" enthuses Francis. "A lesser man would be long-done by now, but Stephens is still taking the fight to The Hell Machine!"

 

"No way!"

 

Stephens takes a quick look around to see where his tag team partner is. The answer, still laid out on the canvas and in no apparant hurry to get up for risk of Janus being there to meet him. So Stephens has to keep the fight going alone, backing off the ropes for a little extra juice behind his third dropkick. The Hell Machine simply swats the feet away though, looking more irritated by The Englishman's show of fight than anything. And as such, when irritated, you can bet whoever is in Janus' is going to regret being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

 

 

 

 

*KE - RACK!*

 

 

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"KNUCKLE BOMB!!"

 

The impact of the straight punch reverberates around the arena with a sickening crack. Already on the ropes, in what would be the equivilant of who knows how many boxing rounds, Stephens doesn't stand a chance, collapsing like the traditional SWF 'sack of wet mice' and not moving once gravity has taken it's course.

 

"HO - LY SHIT!"

"HO - LY SHIT!"

"HO - LY SHIT!"

"HO - LY SHIT!"

 

"That was a thing of beauty!"

 

"He broke his jaw." mumbles Mak in disbelief. "He had to have broken his jaw."

 

"I'd be satisfied with nothing less!"

 

Stephens looks to be completely knocked out, eyes flittering but the rest of his body remaining motionless. With a little more than a glint in his eye, Janus begins the slow process of pulling Stephens to his feet.

 

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

The chants are quieter now, an eiree hush descending over a large section of the crowd. More in hope than expectation.

 

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

"TOXXXXXXXX - IC!"

 

Directing Stephens towards the ropes, Janus grips The Englishman around the throat to hold him upright. The Hell Machine's eyes lock on Stephens'. And although The Sensation is semi-conscious at best, he seems to make eye contact for one brief moment, just as Janus begins to mouth something to him.

 

 

"I told I'd see you soon, Mr. Stephens."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*THUD!*

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

 

"YES!" cheers King, over and completely against the Memphis crowd. One hand, by the throat, has sent Stephens spiralling over the top, with no way to save himself. As Stephens body crumbles to the arena floor, folding into itself before uncoiling into a KOed heap on the arena padding, the referees signal the elimination and Sexton Hardcastle slides into the ring, ready for the next stage of the 'Fuck.

 

"Michael Stephens, all the way from number one... and gone at the FINAL hurdle!" gasps Mak. "What a sickener for the four-time World Champion. He is NOT going to From The Fire!"

 

"Oh, praise be!" cheers King yet again, unscrewing a bottle of whiskey. "Hey Tom, this one's to you buddy, I'm sure you're watching! Cheers, 'mate'! HAHA!"

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael Stephens

ENTERED: 1st

LEFT: 17th

ELIMINATED: Nighthawk, Matt Myers, Jimmy The Doom, Calvin Szechstein, Jimmy Liston

ELIMINATED BY: Janus

LEFT IN RING: Landon Maddix, Jay Hawke, Janus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Don't down too much of that just yet King," warns The Franchise, trying to move things along even as most eyes in the arena remain on the motionless Michael Stephens, "Landon Maddix is still in the final three."

 

"You're right, I should save some for later. Thanks."

 

"That's not what I meant..."

 

"I know what you meant and you're wasting your breath. Maddix is in there with a seven foot two wrecking machine and the best active technician on the roster today!"

 

The final three remain where they are as extra referees are brought down to the ring in order to help Michael Stephens to the back. Janus is watching all of this, oddly stoic. Neither Jay Hawke, who remains in a neutral corner, or Landon who is just now pulling himself off of the canvas, even so much as contemplate attacking The Hell Machine from behind.

 

 

*DING!*

 

Suddenly, the bell to start the triple threat portion of the Clusterfuck sounds. And Jay Hawke doesn't wait to make his move, sneaking up behind Landon and cradling him down with a schoolboy...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...Landon kicks out and proves he was, to some extent, playing possum as he returns the favour on The Dean with an Oklahoma Roll before he knows what's happening...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...but Hawke kicks out!

 

Quickly Hawke grabs a side headlock on Landon, forcing him down to the canvas... and suddenly switching into the Fujiwara armbar! Only, unlike earlier, Landon can't tapout without any consequences, as submissions will end the match now!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Janus needs to keep his eye on the action here." Mak points out. "He's dealt with Michael Stephens sure, but if he wants to go to From The Fire he's got two more men to go through yet."

 

"What do you mean 'if'?"

 

"Well, I don't know. Janus might just have been sent out as a... well, some sort of a 'last line of defence' against Michael Stephens. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Tom Flesher was involved in the process of finding the four extra Clusterfuck entrants."

 

"Yes, but..."

 

"One of whom was his buddy Charlie Matthews."

 

"And one as Jimmy 'frikkin Liston, what's your point!?" snaps King. "Just because you're in a wheelchair, doesn't mean you neccessarily know more than us mere walking humans, 'Professor'."

 

In the meantime, Maddix has fought through the pain and is right in reach of the ropes... REACHING THEM, forcing a break of the hold. Hawke climbs back up with the arm still in tow, pulling Landon up with him and wringing out the arm. Before he can chain that into anything more substancial however, he finds himself in harm's way as Janus has had his fill of Michael Stephens' suffering (for now) and approaches his final two opponents. Improvising, Hawke pulls Landon in by his weakened right arm and forces him to co-operate with a double clothesline...

 

 

 

...that actually hurts Maddix more than Janus, who barely flinches from the 'double-team' from the one time Tag Team Champions.

 

"Okay Jay, befriend him!" shouts King, hoping to be heard from twenty or so feet away. "It's your only hope."

 

Jay tries to do just that, begging off from the bigman as Maddix is left nursing his right arm. Turning towards him, Janus lunges at him with a clothesline, taking La Cucaracha clean off his feet. Hawke actually applauds The Hell Machine's efforts, but Janus isn't one for compliments apparantly, taking one sideways look at Jay and deciding he's next.

 

"No, Janus! What is he..."

 

"They."

 

"...they doing? GET LANDON!"

 

Janus tries to do just the opposite of that, stalking towards Hawke. The Dean's prolonged attempts to reason with the giant Australian continue to fall on deaf ears, Hawke finding himself pinned up against the ropes and trapped, with nowhere to go! One last attempt to beg for mercy fails, as Janus sees he's finally cornered Hawke and attacks...

 

 

...but Hawke dives forward, clipping out one of The Hell Machine's knees as he sprawls forwards...

 

 

 

 

 

...AND ENDS UP WITH HIS ARMS TIED BETWEEN THE TOP AND MIDDLE RING ROPES!!!

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Janus is caught! The Hell Machine has finally been neutralised... we might be down to two, unless he can get out quickly!"

 

"Oh damnit all!" curses King. "Duck low and come back up! No, wait, that won't work. Lean back, then... no, lean forwards first, then back and twist..."

 

"King, they can't hear you."

 

With Janus left flailing around, unable to negotiate his way out of the ropes much to his clear frustration, Hawke breathes a heavy sigh of relief. He then breathes a heavier sigh, well sort of sigh, as Landon creeps up on him and brings up the knees into the back with the LUNGBLOWER!!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Hawke is left writhing, as Maddix secures the near leg and quickly stacks Jay up...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

"NO, DON'T COUNT! HELP JANUS!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"COME ON, NO!!"

 

 

 

 

TH...

 

 

 

 

JANUS JUST MANAGES TO KICK THE PIN APART!!

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"That was too close." King gasps.

 

Still Janus remains tangled up in the ropes and Maddix hopes to keep him that way, quickly Dropsaulting The Hell Machine in the chest to momentarily halt his attempts to escape. Maddix then reaches down and drags Hawke towards the centre of the ring and away from Janus' kicking range, attempting the pin again...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

Climbing back up, Landon goes after the immobilised Janus. Janus throws a kick, about all he can do in this position, but Maddix manages to sidestep it and land a forearm. Not too effective on the Australian but hey what is he going to do about it? Not much is the answer.

 

 

The same cannot be said for Jay Hawke though, latching onto Maddix from behind AND PULLING HIM INTO THE WING SPAN!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"He caught him! The Wing Span is locked in!"

 

"And there's nobody to save!" King cheers. "Oh, it's all too perfect Mak, I think I may weep!"

 

Unable to get the accompanying arm trap body-scissors fully locked in thanks to the positioning of Landon's free arm, Hawke settles for what he's got a tugs away on the hold with his teeth almost grinding through each other with determination. The already weakened arm is the arm caught, which makes Landon's pained yells that little more painful and little sooner than usual!

 

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

 

The crowd will Maddix on as he begins to crawl towards the ropes. There's the small matter of Janus to be dealt with yet, but that's the least of La Cucaracha's problems now as he starts to shuffle upwards. Hawke wrenches on chickenwing a couple more times, before attempting again to trap the arm...

 

 

 

...failing and giving Landon a free couple of seconds to inch towards the ropes!

 

"Are you weeping yet, King?"

 

"If Maddix doesn't tap soon I might be. It's a matter of time if Hawke gets the body-scissors on though, trust Maddix to screw up a perfectly good hold."

 

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

"LAN - DON!"

 

Still the fans are hopeful, but Landon has stopped crawling. The pain is becoming too much now and as Hawke gives one last pull back, he looks up at Janus, the big Australian threatening to tear the ropes off of their stantions as he continues to struggle to free himself...

 

 

...his struggle unsuccessful...

 

 

 

 

...and he can only watch on fuming, as Landon hand hovers over the canvas...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...AND HE PUSHES ON ANOTHER FEW INCHES...

 

 

 

 

...ALLOWING JANUS TO BOOT HAWKE IN THE HEAD, BREAKING THE HOLD!!!

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"DAMNIT!"

 

"That's some improvisation right there." smiles Mak. "One way to break a submission, I guess."

 

"That's ridiculous! Maddix NEVER would have made the ropes, he was seconds away from tapping and he lucked out! If Janus wasn't seven foot two, Jay Hawke would be Clusterfuck Champion now!"

 

"Now you're really reaching."

 

Both Landon and Jay climb to their feet, referee Hardcastle still in two minds over whether he should be assisting Janus or not. Janus is swinging now, feet and hands, neither of which comes close to connecting with anyone but rather keep Hardcastle from daring to get within range. So, he sticks with the action, as Hawke pulls Maddix back down with the Fujiwara...

 

 

 

 

 

...but Maddix rolls through! First up, Landon thinks about a chop. But with his arm hanging limp at his side he doesn't risk it. Instead, he looks up and sees where Hawke is standing, luring him in and barging him back with his one good arm.

 

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

"OH!"

 

Janus raises one big boot and catches The Dean Of Professional Wrestling in the back of the skull, dropping him forward. Dazed, Hawke falls to one knee, the other leg fed perfectly for Landon, who rushes in, springing off of the raised knee...

 

 

 

 

*SMACK!*

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

 

"SHINING WIZAAAAAAAARD~!"

 

"No... please, no..."

 

Hawke goes flying backwards and the back of his head clatters into Janus' shins just for good measure. Covering his head with his hands, Landon quickly retrieves Hawke, managing not to get any more than a grazing kick from The Hell Machine as he drags Jay out of range, hooking the leg...

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

...Janus makes one last effort to escape the ropes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

...leaning back...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...AND REMAINING TIED UP ON HIS WAY FORWARD...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEEEEE!!!!

 

 

"YYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"NOOOOOOO!!"

 

"YES!" confirms Mak, the sound of a headset being slammed into the announce table ignored by The Franchise. "HISTORY HAS BEEN MADE!! LANDON MADDIX, FOR THE SECOND TIME, HAS WON THE SWF CLUSTERFUCK!! AND WHAT A REACTION!"

 

 

*KABOOM!*

 

A sudden burst of confetti begins to shower the arena, as Landon rolls to his knees. Fists clenched, Landon holds his head in his hands and the blood vessels burst to the edge of his skin as he punches the air! Sexton Hardcastle interrupts the celebrations and raises Landon's arm in victory, The Next Generation climbing to his feet with him.

 

And coming face to face with Janus, the Aussie still tied up, but Maddix still not fancying his chances if that changes and deciding to exit the ring while the going is good.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jay Hawke

ENTERED: 16th

LEFT: 18th

ELIMINATED: Johnny Dangerous

ELIMINATED BY: Landon Maddix

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Through the confetti filled air jogs Megan Skye, leaping into the arms of Landon and clearly reminding him, 'two times, two times'. The crowd give another loud cheer for the joyous celebrations in the aisle, as another explosion of confetti is set off in the rafters.

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” Funyon booms, “THE WINNER OF THE TWO THOUSAND AND SEVEN CLUUUUUSSSSSTERFUCK... LAAAAAANNDDOOOOOOOOONN "LA CUCARACHAAAAAAA!!" MMMMMAAAAAAAADDDIIIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!!!!”

 

"And not just that," adds Mak over the roaring crowd, "not just the trip to the main-event of From The Fire, but also an historic second Clusterfuck triumph! Not without a few slices of luck along the way, but regardless, Landon Maddix survives again!"

 

Maddix and Megan continue their celebration on to the back as referees crowd around Janus, helping to finally un-tie his arms from between the ropes. The number officials seems to suggest they're expecting a backlash once The Hell Machine's arms are free. But Janus doesn't lash out at the referees, settling for growling and snarling them out of his way, before heading for the exits.

 

"Janus made a huge impact in this year's 'Fuck, the biggest of the 'Fuck and all nineteen men before him. And who knows, without one slip-up and the downright bad luck of getting caught in the ropes, Janus may well... infact, the way he was clearing house, chances are he would have won it all. But all the ifs and buts are irrelevant now. Not least to The Hell Machine."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Janus

ENTERED: 20th

LEFT: N/A

ELIMINATED: Akira Kaibatsu, MANSON, Michael Stephens

ELIMINATED BY: N/A

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As Janus stalks towards the back, Maddix and Megan quickly scuttle the rest of the way up the ramp. One last pumping of the fists gives the crowd a final photo-op, the confetti cover couple exiting back through the curtains and onto the road to From The Fire.

 

"Well, that's all for this year's Clusterfuck." Mak begins to wrap up, over the visual of Jay Hawke in the otherwise empty ring, holding his forehead with a grimace as he spits out a mouthful of confetti. "History has been made and now, Landon Maddix will go on to From The Fire, looking to re-write history once more. Only one man has gone to From The Fire as Clusterfuck Champion, Number One Contender, and lost and that was La Cucaracha! But nobody has ever had a second shot... will it be second time's the charm for Landon Maddix!? We'll find out in a matter of weeks, but until then, so long everybody, we'll see you Wednesday night for another edition of SWF Storm!!"

 

The confetti continues to fall, Suicide King bitterly wafting it away from his now half-drunk whiskey bottle as we...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT!!

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