SWF Storm (June 14/2002)

[Guest BA_Baracus]

[The sound of a cold wind whistles through a darkened arena.

 

Suddenly several medium sized white pyros explode in the centre of the stage as a rain of blue sparks cascades down to the stage in front of the SWF-tron.

 

After a few seconds the lights return, scan an excited audience then zoom in on the announcer's table...]

 

Mark Stevens - It's time for yet another rolickng fun edition of SWF Storm!  I'm Mark Stevens.

 

Bobby Riley - And I'm his evil announcing partner, Bobby Riley!

 

Stevens - That you are.

 

Riley - Shut up or I'll eat your dog

 

Stevens - Uhm, right....on with the show!

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Johnny Rotten vs. Fallout

- Remember that Johnny Rotten guy?  Well he’s fighting Fallout on Storm!  Awoogah!

 

3-WAY US TITLE MATCH

Durandal © vs. Ash Ketchum vs. Annie Eclectic

- These 3 new WF wrestlers have been involved in a series of matches since debuting with the company.  Now 2 of them will attempt to defeat Durandal for his US title!

Match Description – DQ and count-out rules are in effect.  If someone is eliminated via pinfall, submission or count-out they can no longer participate in the match and must leave ringside.  The champion must be eliminated in order for the title to change hands.  If the champion is eliminated first, the remaining two will continue the match with the winner becoming the new champ.

 

ICTV TITLE MATCH

Sacred © vs. Perfect Bo

- These two have a long history with each other.  Recently it seemed as though Bo had turned his back on Sacred’s stable da Pound and gone face, but it turned out it was just an elaborate ploy to get back at Thugg.  No one knows for sure if he’s back with da Pound, but we may find out more on Storm.

 

HANDICAP MATCH

Edwin MacPhisto vs. Chris Wilson & Stryke

- Chris Wilson has set his sights on the SWF heavyweight champion since making his return.  Can Edwin possibly beat the new SWF tag-team champions on his own?

Match Description – DQ and count-out rules are in effect.  Only two men are allowed in the ring at once, Wilson and Stryke must tag in and out.  MacPhisto only needs to defeat one of his opponents to win the match.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Durandal sits in his locker room, dressed for his match with his Clan robe on and his US Title belt fastened around his waist underneath. He stays seated, idly toying with his icepick, when he hears a knock at the door.

 

"Come on in..." he grunts, and in walks Ben Hardy. The US Champion rolls his eyes and sighs disgustedly. "Oh... it's just you."

 

Taken aback, Hardy stammers, "We- well, yes, it's me! Who were you expecting, Edwin MacPhisto?"

 

"Actually, I was waiting for Ash... but then again, you just said Edwin, so it's all the same anyway."

 

Hardy looks confused for a moment, then shrugs it off. "So, Durandal, what sort of plans do you have for your match tonight?"

 

"That's a really stupid question."

 

Hardy waits a moment, his microphone still stuck in Durandal's face, while the Clan member stares at him.

 

"I said that was a really stupid question, Hardy."

 

"But... but... but I need an answer. We're on the air."

 

"My plans for tonight include carrying you downstairs into the boiler room and feeding you your own dick on rye bread with provolone and creole mustard."

 

"Uh... er... well..."

 

"But that's not till after I take out Ash and Annie. Ash and I... we go way back. That bastard stole the SJL World Championship from me... not once, but twice. And now he's carrying that goddamn Garbage Heavyweight Title around-"

 

"I believe you mean the Hardcore Championship."

 

"Shut up, Hardy. All that title stands for is garbage wrestling. Good thing we have it here... otherwise, they'd have to find a place for Ketchum and they'd have to pretend he was a legitimate contender for a REAL title, like my United States belt. As it is, they give him a token shot here and there, but he has a toy to play with, something to keep him from realizing what an absolute waste of sperm he is."

 

Hardy, taken aback, mutters, "Are we allowed to say that?"

 

"And wasn't it just a week or two ago that Annie and Ash were hugging tearfully? 'Oh, Ash, I'm so sorry.' 'Oh, Annie, it's alright.' Pardon me while I vomit. But it doesn't matter. Annie gave everything up when she gave up the Clan. She lost Thoth, her mentor. She lost Allison, her twin sister. She lost her hair. She lost her sanity. She lost her chance at SWF immortality. But most importantly... she lost her protection."

 

"Well I really don't know about..."

 

"ME, you idiot."

 

"Oh... well... er..."

 

"Just shut up. The point is, Annie hasn't been anything since she left the Clan... and Ash never was."

 

With that, Durandal gets to his feet and picks up the icepick. As quickly as he can, Hardy stumbles out the door, falling flat on his face as soon as he gets into the hall. As we fade, Durandal mutters, "Maybe I can get him to do the Charleston."

[Guest BA_Baracus]

"Anarchy in the U.K" by the Sex Pistols starts to play, with Johnny Rotten singing, "Rrright..... now!" and a few explosions dispense from the entrance ramp, as the song starts. "I am an antichrist, yeah I'm an anarchist.. Don't know what I want, but I know how to get it..."  Rotten makes his way to the ring.

 

*Funyon:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall!  Introducing first, from Indianapolis, Indiana, weighing 260 lbs., representing the Midnight Carnival…Johnny Rotten!

 

*Stevens:  What a great way to kick off Storm!

*Riley:  Don’t we say that every week?

*Stevens:  It’s called “shilling”, Bobby.  It’s in our contracts.

*Riley:  Oh yeah.  Ahem…WOO HOO!  This match will be da bomb!  How was that?

*Stevens:  We’ll work on that later.  Anyway, Johnny Rotten will go against Fallout in singles action to start tonight’s show.  These two have been at each other’s throats for a long time.

*Riley:  It all goes back to that Clan-Carnival war.  It’s died down a bit, but believe me, these two still hate each other.

 

The lights go out.  “Scum of the Earth” by Rob Zombie begins to play.  As soon as the heavy guitar part starts, an explosion hits the entrance area, a faint green glow lights up the arena, and Fallout comes through the curtain.  He heads straight for the ring, looking at his opponent, Johnny Rotten.

 

*Funyon:  His opponent, from Phoenix, Arizona, weighing 185 lbs., representing The Clan…Fallout!

 

Fallout stands in the center of the squared circle, feet apart.  He closes his eyes, and slowly lifts his arms skyward.  A huge green explosion comes from behind him.  He then removes his Clan robe and prepares for the match.

 

*Stevens:  The Scum of the Earth has arrived.  But I must say, he doesn’t look very threatening next to the 6-foot-8 Johnny Rotten.

*Riley:  Well I have to agree with you there.  But Fallout is a giant killer.  He has fought men larger than Rotten before…man, it’s amazing how well the name “Rotten” fits this guy.

*Stevens:  Come on, now.

*Riley:  Anyway, as I was saying, Fallout has fought men larger than Rotten before, and won.

*Stevens:  And he’s fought men smaller than Rotten before and lost.  What’s your point?

*Riley:  My point is that you should never count him out.  When the odds are stacked against him, he usually comes out on top.

*Stevens:  I can’t argue with that.  But Rotten has beaten Fallout before, and I don’t see why he shouldn’t be able to do it again.

 

DING DING DING

 

Fallout and Rotten start circling each other.  A few seconds later, they lock up in the center of the ring.  Fallout tries to push Rotten back, but Rotten holds his position, apparently with little difficulty.  Then he pushes Fallout away, and he falls to the mat and rolls back.  He gets up slowly, and he cautiously moves back toward Rotten.  They hold out their arms as if they are about to lock up again, but Fallout suddenly ducks, gets behind Rotten, and pulls his legs out from under him, causing him to fall on his face.  He quickly floats over and applies a front facelock, trying to cut off the flow of blood to the brain.  Rotten slowly gets to his feet, bent over due to the hold.  As he stands up, he punches Fallout in the gut a few times and breaks the hold.  He then stands upright and slaps a side headlock on Fallout.  Fallout tries to push Rotten’s arms away, but with no success.  He then pushes Rotten into the ropes, but Rotten maintains the hold as he bounces off and takes Fallout down with a bulldog-like maneuver!  Fallout stays down for a few seconds.  The referee asks him if he wants to quit.  Fallout says no.  He slowly gets to his feet, and Rotten goes up with him.  Fallout pushes Rotten into the ropes again, and this time he breaks the hold, but Rotten comes off the ropes and takes Fallout down with a shoulder block.  Rotten runs off the ropes, Fallout slides underneath him, Rotten bounces off the opposite ropes, Fallout jumps up and nails him with a dropkick!  Rotten staggers back into the ropes.  Fallout charges at him, but Rotten lowers his head and back drops Fallout over the top rope to the floor!

 

*Stevens:  Wow!  Fallout nearly flew into the next area code with that one!

*Riley:  He’s used to flying through the air, but most of the time it’s voluntary.

 

Rotten climbs through the ropes and out of the ring.  Fallout is getting up, grabbing his back.  Rotten grabs Fallout’s arm, gives it a good twist, and then whips him into the steel ring stairs!  As Fallout lets out a cry of pain, Rotten climbs back onto the apron…and then dives off into the guardrail!

 

*Riley:  Okay, this guy needs to be locked up.

*Stevens:  It’s just the way he is, Bobby.  He may be a little out of it, but he’s entertaining.

*Riley:  Sure, he’s entertaining, in a what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you kind of way.

 

Both men start getting up.  The referee starts to count them out.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Fallout is back on his feet.  He rolls into the ring, breaking the count.  Fallout looks down at Rotten, who is almost on his feet.  Rotten is bleeding from the forehead.  Fallout just shakes his head.  Rotten finally makes it to his feet.  He stumbles toward the ring and rolls back in.  Fallout stomps on him a few times before he can stand.  He then kneels down and wraps his hands around Rotten’s neck, choking him.  The referee orders him to break up the choke.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Fallout releases the choke before the referee gets to five.  He then brings Rotten back to his feet.  Fallout grabs his arm and whips him into the corner.  Fallout charges in after him, but Rotten sticks his foot out and catches Fallout in the face with it!  Fallout staggers back, but stays on his feet.  Rotten charges out of the corner with a clothesline, but Fallout catches his arm and pulls him down into a Fujiwara armbar!  Rotten winces from the pain.  He pulls himself toward the ropes with his free arm, and his strength advantage allows him to get there fairly quickly.  Rotten grabs the bottom rope, and the referee orders Fallout to break the hold.  Fallout ignores him at first, so the referee begins another count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

Finally, Fallout lets go.

 

*Stevens:  Fallout and Johnny Rotten are opening up Storm, which is coming to you from Providence, Rhode Island.  The Dunkin’ Donuts Center has been sold out for weeks for this event.

*Riley:  I suppose a lot of cops visit this arena, eh?

*Stevens:  What?

*Riley:  Well, it’s named after a donut shop.

*Stevens:  Are you serious?

*Riley:  I’m always serious.  I’m especially serious when I say, come on Fallout!  Rip his arm off!

 

Fallout stomps on Rotten a couple more times, but it doesn’t seem to be preventing Rotten from getting up.  Fallout switches to some punches to the head, but Rotten keeps getting up!  Fallout takes his arm, Irish whip, Rotten reverses and lowers his head, but Fallout counters with a Sunset Flip…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

…and Rotten kicks out.  Both men quickly get up.  Rotten tries to kick Fallout, but Fallout catches the leg!  However, Rotten jumps up and kicks Fallout with his other leg, landing in a sitting position.  Fallout staggers back into the corner.  Rotten gets up and charges in, but Fallout steps out of the way and Rotten hits the turnbuckles.  He turns around, and Fallout nails him across the chest with a knife-edge chop!  (WHOO!  Make it two chops!  (WHOO!  Did I say two?  I meant three!  (WHOO!  Fallout pulls Rotten out of the corner.  Irish whip, Fallout tries to leap-frog over him but Rotten catches him and spins him around into a powerslam!  Fallout slowly gets up, grabbing his back.  Rotten grabs him and throws him out of the ring!

 

*Stevens:  Fallout obviously can not win a brawl with Johnny Rotten, so he’s trying his best to out-wrestle him.

*Riley:  That’s not an easy task.  Rotten is no slouch when it come to technical wrestling.  But if anyone can out-wrestle him, it’s Fallout.  The greatest light-heavyweight champion of all time…besides me, of course.

*Stevens:  You’re all about shameless plugs, aren’t you?

*Riley:  Why else would I take this job?

 

Rotten climbs out of the ring after Fallout.  He pulls him closer to the barricade.  Rotten then lifts Fallout up and drops him, and he falls chest-first into the barricade!  Fallout grabs at his ribs, apparently in pain.  Rotten pulls him back up.  He lifts Fallout up and holds him over his shoulder.  He then eyes the ring post.  Rotten charges forward, intending to ram Fallout’s head into the post, but Fallout slips out of his grasp and lands behind Rotten.  He gives him a push, and Rotten hits the steel post!  Fallout climbs up onto the apron, and then he moves to a corner and climbs up to the top turnbuckle.  But before he can do anything, Rotten climbs up onto the apron and grabs Fallout by the neck!  However, Fallout pokes Rotten in the eye, breaking the hold and causing Rotten to drop back down to the floor.  Fallout then flies off the turnbuckle and takes Rotten down with a flying cross-body attack!

 

*Stevens:  What a move by Fallout, taking down the big man!

*Riley:  And this time it was voluntary.

*Stevens:  Let’s take another look at this…(replay of Rotten hitting the ring post)

*Riley:  You know, in all the matches I’ve seen, about 99 times out of 100 that move is countered.

*Stevens:  You’d think they would learn.

*Riley:  Well, I can understand if Rotten doesn’t learn.  His brain has been damaged from too many Stage Dives.

 

The referee starts another ten-count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

Fallout is the first one to get up.

 

THREE!

 

Fallout grabs Rotten and pulls him up.

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

Fallout rolls Rotten into the ring, breaking the count.  Fallout climbs up onto the apron.  He moves to a nearby corner and ascends to the top turnbuckle again.  Rotten slowly stands up.  Fallout waits patiently on the turnbuckle for Rotten to move into a vulnerable position.  Once he does, Fallout leaps off and takes Rotten down with a Super Hurric…no!  Rotten holds on as Fallout bends backward, much to Fallout’s surprise, and then he pulls him back up!  Fallout nails Rotten with several right hands to the face, trying to save himself, but Rotten still manages to pull off the powerbomb!  He rolls over into the cover…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH-but Fallout gets the shoulder up!

*Stevens:  Damn, that was close!  It looked like Fallout was going for a Hurricanrana off the top rope, but Johnny Rotten was able to counter!

*Riley:  I suppose this is the time when I say, “Damn those Carnies!”

*Stevens:  And this is the time when I say, “Too late.”

 

Rotten brings Fallout back to his feet.  He grabs his head, runs him into the corner, and slams his head into the top turnbuckle.  Rotten spins Fallout around and starts kicking him in the gut several times.  Stomping a mudhole, if you will.  The referee orders him to break it up.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Rotten stops the attack.  He looks at the referee, and then points to some random point in space and yells, “Look, it’s the Goodyear Blimp!”  Surprisingly, the referee looks.  Rotten takes advantage of the distraction and turns back to Fallout and plants his foot in Fallout’s neck, choking him.  The referee soon realizes that there is no Goodyear Blimp out there and turns around to find Rotten choking Fallout.  He starts another count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Rotten releases the choke.

 

*Riley:  Distracting the referee, and then blatantly choking his opponent.  Typical of a Carnie.

*Stevens:  Hey, if the referee is stupid enough to fall for that…

*Riley:  I know, I know.  He’s a moron.  They all are.  But my point is that Rotten is using dirty tactics to take control of this match.

*Stevens:  Don’t worry.  I’m sure Fallout will get his fair share of dirty tactics in before the match is over.

 

Rotten pulls Fallout out of the corner and toward the center of the ring.  He then delivers one more boot to the midsection, bending him over.  Rotten crosses his arms underneath Fallout and lifts him up for the Pyramid Driver…but Fallout counters with a Hurricanrana into a pin…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR-NO!  Rotten avoids the upset.  Both men get up.  Rotten goes for a clothesline, but Fallout ducks.  He gets behind Rotten, reaches up, grabs his head, and pulls him down into a neckbreaker.  Both men are down.

 

*Riley:  What a counter by Fallout.  And it makes up for that Hurricanrana that Rotten countered earlier.

*Stevens:  Fallout has bought himself some time.  But will it be enough?

*Riley:  It better be.  We can’t start the show off with a Carnie coming out on top, can we?

*Stevens:  You bet we can!

 

The referee starts a ten-count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

Both men start getting up.

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

SEVEN!

 

Both men are up.  Fallout takes a swing at Rotten, but he blocks it and nails Fallout with a punch of his own!  Another punch from Rotten connects!  And another!  And another!  Irish whip, Rotten lowers his head, and sends Fallout flying through the air with a back drop, and he hits the mat hard!  Fallout slowly gets up.  Rotten grabs his arm.  Irish whip, and he takes Fallout down with a reverse elbow!  Fallout gets up again.  Rotten delivers a few more right hands, backing Fallout down into the corner.  Rotten whips him into the opposite corner, but Fallout reverses and Rotten goes into the turnbuckles.  Fallout charges in with a spear, but Rotten moves out of the way and Fallout spears the ring post!  Rotten pulls him away from the ring post.  He hooks both of Fallout’s arms, spins around, lifts Fallout up…AND PLANTS HIM WITH THE ROTTEN DAY!!!  Rotten rolls him over and hooks the leg…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

…but the referee stops the count.  Fallout has his foot on the bottom rope.

 

*Stevens:  A tactical mistake by Rotten.  He had the match won with the Rotten Day, but Fallout got his foot on the ropes.

*Riley:  He’s down, but he’s not out yet.

 

Rotten looks at the referee as if to say, “What the hell are you doing?”  The referee points at Fallout’s foot.  Rotten sees it, and now he understands.  He pulls Fallout up to his feet, which takes a moment as Fallout is having trouble standing after taking the Rotten Day.  Rotten then locks in a choke from behind, setting him up for the Rotten Urangue!  But as he tries to lift him up, Fallout grabs the ropes and holds on for dear life!  The referee tries to break up the hold, as Fallout is in the ropes, and it’s also a blatant choke.  But while the referee is distracted with the choke, Fallout kicks back and nails Rotten with a low blow!  Rotten releases the hold and falls back, holding his crotch.  Fallout leans against the ropes, trying to catch his breath.

 

*Stevens:  A low blow by Fallout!  And the referee somehow missed it!

*Riley:  This guy is dumb as a post.

 

Rotten slowly gets up.  Once he is on his feet, Fallout kicks him in the midsection, bending him over.  He then applies a front facelock…AND DELIVERS THE MELTDOWN!!!  Fallout rolls Rotten over and hooks the leg…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!!!

 

DING DING DING

 

“Scum of the Earth” begins to play.  Fallout rolls out of the ring and makes his way to the back.

 

*Funyon:  Here is your winner…FALLOUT!!!

 

*Stevens:  First the low blow, then the Meltdown.  And Fallout has won the match.

*Riley:  Well don’t complain about Fallout cheating to win.  Rotten was using some questionable moves as well.

*Stevens:  But two wrongs don’t make a right!

*Riley:  No, but that low blow made Fallout a winner.  It was a great match, and we have more coming up after this important commercial message.

*Stevens:  Hey, I’m supposed to say that!

*Riley:  Oh, are you?  I’m sorry.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

As the camera re-enters from commercial we see Benjamin Hardy, microphone in hand, sits, waiting to interview a wrestler who we cannot see. Ben, though, is stupid, and he tells us in the first six words who the hell it is.

 

Ben: Benjamin Hardy here with Ash Ketchum-

 

See? Told ya so. A quick pan out reveals Ash, looking as charismatic as ever. He swallows the donut in his mouth, and then, showing the Dunkin' Donuts box and giving a thumbs up. Cheap pops a plenty as Ash puts the box down and speaks.

 

Ash: Helllllllloooooooooooooooooooo Proooooooooo-viiiiiii-dence! Welcome to the show! Sit back, relax, grab a box of donuts, compliments of Dunkin' Donuts, POKEMANIAAAAAAAA'S NEWEST SPONSOR!, and open up a can, no, two-liter of whoop ass!

 

Ben: O-KKKKKK... Now Ash, tonight, you face Durandal and Annie E in a three-way for the US Championship-

 

Ash: Indeedy do, Benji. Facing off against Duran Duran and Annie is an important match, Mr. Hardass.

 

Ben: Ash, it's-

 

Ash: SILENCE! THOU SHALT SHUTETH THEIR DAMN MOUTHETH! And as for-

 

Suddenly, Ash stops, staring behind Ben Hardy. Pan out again, and as Ben turns around, he notices that Stryke is standing behind him. The Hardcore champ grins as he speaks.

 

Stryke: Well, well... look what we have here... if it isn't a loser. Quite sad, isn't it? From riches to rags, Mr. Ketchum. One week, champion... next week, jobber...

 

Ash: Grrr... look, I have a title shot tonight-(Ketchum eyes the Hardcore belt)-And remember, I do have a rematch for that little title of yours.

 

Stryke: Oh, this one? (He holds up the Tag Title.) Or... this one?

 

Stryke holds up the Hardcore Title, and Ash only grits his teeth as the Showstopper opens his mouth again.

 

Stryke: Well, Ass Caughtem... (Boos come down from the crowd) it takes real toughness to be Hardcore champ. I've got it... but do you have the, oh, Poke Balls to take another ass-whoopin' from me?

 

Ash pauses for a second as Stryke steps closer to Ash, the two staring each other down.

 

Ash: Stryke, I'm here for one reason only. It's not Pokemania, or the billion-millimeter cobras (Ash flexes his muscles to a cheap crowd pop), but I'm here for one reaosn only: to lay waste to others in my way. And that's what I do. I hurt people.

 

Dead silence fills the air, minus the huge cheers from the crowd as Ash finishes off his speech.

 

Ash: And one more thing, Stryke the Dyke... (cheap pop), one last tiny little thing... no matter where you run or hide... just remember, like all the Poke Freaks do... Pokemania... is going... to kick your ass.

 

The crowd goes nuts as the two men stare each other down, face to face.

 

Stryke: You want a title shot, Kethcum? Heh. You've already got one coming.

 

Stryke laughs in Ash's face as he abruptly turns around, laughing as he makes his way backstage. Ketchum looks on in anger, and we fade away to a commercial for 7-11.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SWF Storm returns from a Geico commercial featuring Edwin MacPhisto ("You want GEICO, not MACPHISTO... hold on, who's writing this crap?") and the camera pans the Dunkin' Donuts Center in Providence. It catches lucky fans holding signs such as "Durandal Fears Blargledyargle," "Ash Fears Nothing" and "Annie Fears Men" before finally swinging over to the announce table, where Grand Slam Mark Stevens sits next to Bobby Riley.

 

"Welcome back to SWF Storm!" bellows Stevens as the fans pop. "Already we've seen some amazing action between Johnny Rotten and Fallout, and we're gearing up for another-"

 

"That Rotten's got no talent whatsoever."

 

"Whatever you say, Bobby. We're ready for another exciting match. Tonight, we're going to see SWF World Champion Edwin MacPhisto taking on Chris Wilson AND Stryke in a handicap match, and before that we'll see Sacred defend his Intercontinental and TV Titles against Perfect Bo, but coming up right now is Durandal defending his United States Title against Ash Ketchum AND Annie E!"

 

"Yet another in a long line of matches where Durandal takes on some goofy-ass Pokemon guy or some freaky girl who thinks she's an angel."

 

"I happen to think Durandal's pretty freaky, myself." Stevens shudders. "That icepick... whew. It just scares me."

 

"You're just saying that, you damn shill."

 

"Whatever you say, Riley. Let's go to Funyon!"

 

The bell rings as Funyon steps into the ring and centers himself next to referee Matthew Kivell. "This contest is an elimination match," he says, "and it is for the SWF US Championship!" Suddenly, synthesized trumpets blare out over the PA and the fans jump to their feet, cheering the slow, intertwined shots of Annie E on the SmarkTron. "I Get Wet" by Andrew W.K. blasts over the loudspeaker as the Real Annie E runs full speed down the entrance ramp. She slides into the ring under the bottom rope and places herself in the middle of the ring.

 

"The first competitor, from Chicago, Illinois, and weighing in tonight at 155 pounds... the Master of the Annie-T, the Smooth C, the angelic, electric, eclectic Annie E!"

 

With that, Annie points from left to right at the crowd in a wide arc, then clenches her first and points with her thumb squarely at her chest. The fans continue cheering her.

 

"Quite a reaction tonight for Annie," says Stevens. "The fans are backing her to take the title tonight."

 

"Eh, you're all the same, MARK."

 

With that, the lights cut out and a kickin' piano piece begins to play over the speakers. The crowd pops as pyro begins to spill out over the top of the SmarkTron and bathe the entryway in fireworks. At the same time, a PokeBall appears on the SmarkTron and starts to spin faster and faster. The fans continue cheering the entrance of the Hardcore Champion as Ash's picture appears on the smarktron, winking at the arena. A huge blast of pyro goes off, and Ash is revealed in the spotlight in his back-to-the-crowd pose next to Misty. Suddenly....

 

"Oh my god, Bobby!"

 

"What? WHAT?! I don't have my glasses on!"

 

... Ash collapses in the entryway and Misty runs away screaming! The pyro stops and the music cuts away as the camera zooms in to see a black-robed, hooded figure stomping away on Ash's knee!

 

"Durandal! It's Durandal! He attacked Ash in the middle of his entrance! What a coward!"

 

"Come on. Ash is the Hardcore Champion. He should be used to this by now. Durandal's just trying to change his style to cater to Ash!"

 

"Do you have ANY conscience, Riley?"

 

"I'm just saying, it was very nice of Durandal to attack Ash. Probably makes him feel at home."

 

Ash's Hardcore belt falls to the concrete as Durandal grabs Ash's leg and drops an elbow into the side of the knee, wrenching it off to the side. With that, Durandal leaves Ash in the entrance and walks silently to the ring, a man on a mission. As he walks, he unties his sash, revealing the United States belt shining in the spotlight. Funyon skips out of the ring as quickly as he can, and when Durandal gets to the ring he shakes his robe off and unfastens the belt in a businesslike manner. He hands it to Kivell, who holds it aloft and quickly signals for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!

 

 

Durandal looks expectantly at Kivell, who shoos him toward Annie. He dawdles a bit, and Kivell says, "Fight!" The US Champion looks confused, and asks, "Aren't you gonna start counting?!" Kivell answers, "I said fight! I'll start counting when he gets to the ring!"

 

"What a coward!" shouts Grand Slam. "He wasn't just trying to hurt Ketchum, he was trying to get rid of him before the match even started!"

 

"Sounds like a solid strategy to me. Don't you remember that's how Bam Bam Bigelow ended Tatanka's undefeated streak?"

 

"What the hell are you talking about?"

 

"Just oldschool stuff from one of the Indies in the Northeast... not that I'd expect YOU to keep up with that."

 

In the ring, Durandal is still dumbfounded that his plan didn't work, leaving him open for Annie to hit him in the ribs with a stiff jab. When he turns around, she meets him with a surprise Drop Kiss that sends him reeling into the corner! Annie follows him into the corner with a lariat, then a kick to the thigh. She goes for a kick to the ribs, but Durandal catches her leg, When Annie goes for an enzuigiri, he ducks it and sends her falling to the mat. He holds onto the leg and falls forward for an STF, but before he can lock on the crossface, Annie nails him with a back elbow to the head that stuns him just long enough for her to wriggle free.

 

Meanwhile, in the entrance, Misty has helped Ash get to his feet. She grabs the Hardcore belt and carries it to the ring, with Ash leaning on her and limping slightly as he makes his way to the ring.

 

"Oh, what a trooper!" shouts Bobby Riley, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why, he's an inspiration to ALL the little fans!"

 

"Bobby, he was savagely attacked as he was trying to make his way to the ring, and now he's just trying to honor his contractual obligation while he does his best to win the US Title."

 

"See? Ash Ketchum, pinnacle of greed! He's obviously too injured to compete! He should just do the honorable thing and turn back around and go to the locker room."

 

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

 

"Make up your mind, MARK."

 

Annie and Durandal square off in the center of the ring with each being a bit more careful after the first flurry. Durandal obviously wants to avoid any more kicking offense, and Annie doesn't want to get caught with a submission that she can't free herself from. Consequently, it's a bit slower in the center as Durandal falls into his amateur stance and Annie assumes a bizarre position reminiscent of the martial arts.

 

"You know, Mark, Durandal recently added his first W in Open Greco-Roman competition."

 

"Well, good for him... unfortunately, that has little to no bearing on the match in the ring."

 

"Sure it does!"

 

"How?"

 

Riley pauses for a second in order to formulate a logical, theoretical and intelligent response.

 

"Just watch the match, jackass."

 

Riley smiles smugly to himself, muttering, "I showed him," as Durandal opens the flurry by dropping down and snagging Annie's left leg to try to take her down. He spins out to the side to force her weight onto one leg, only to have Annie torque his arm and swing him down to the mat with a Fujiwara armbar! Durandal tries to counter it on the way down, but Annie twists his arm enough to get him to the mat and start to twinge his shoulder. He swings out to the front, but Annie keeps the armbar tight, and so he has no choice but to go for the ropes.

 

As Ash limps closer to the ring and leans on the apron, Durandal inches toward the ropes by pulling himself with his free arm and pushing with his legs. Annie tries desperately to keep him in the center, but she's simply too light to exert enough force and he's able to reach the bottom rope on his first try. Annie releases the hold, and Durandal gets back to his feet as Ash pulls himself up and slides into the ring. Like a cat toying with a mouse, Durandal waits, poised, for Ash to get to his feet. When he does, the Clan member runs over and throws a vicious dropkick to take Ash's knee out, sending him crashing once again to the mat! Durandal grabs Ash's leg and pulls him to the center, poised to drop an elbow to wrench the knee again. Annie, though, breaks it up by dropkicking Durandal in the back, stunning him and making him release Ash's leg!

 

"What do you suppose would happen if Annie and Ash were left?" asks Stevens. "They were very buddy-buddy last week."

 

"Well, ordinarily I'd say that Annie wouldn't be able to hold her own, since she's just a woman... but then again, so is Ashley Ketchum, so we can throw that out."

 

Annie helps Ash back to his feet as Durandal shakes off the cobwebs in the corner. Annie and Ash walk over and each grab one of Durandal's arms, then in unison Irish-whip him into the opposite corner! Annie charges in to follow it up with a clothesline, but she gets caught with a Yakuza kick! Durandal plants the sole of his Doc Marten into Annie's face, sending her to the mat, and he covers her while Kivell counts

 

ONE

 

 

TWO - Kickout in the comfort zone by Annie, who's only mildly stunned. Durandal yanks her to her feet by her hair, but Ash runs over, no longer limping, and clotheslines him before he can do anything to Annie! Durandal spins around with a shotei. Ash ducks it and catches him in position for the PokeRap, but before he can lift his opponent up for the slam, Durandal catches Ash with a stiff knee to the groin! The fans burst into a chorus of boos as Ash doubles over in pain.

 

"Well, that was certainly unethical," chuckles Riley.

 

"You say that like you think it's funny."

 

"It was! Look at Ash! And look at Misty! I mean, it works on so many levels!" Riley bursts out laughing as Ash nearly collapses and Durandal starts a golf clap for himself.

 

"Let me tell you something, Riley. Durandal's going to pay for that. Ash is a class competitor and he's not going to resort to tactics like that, but he's going to pay Durandal back for that... and that, my friends, is a damn promise."

 

"Blah, blah, blah."

 

With Ash still doubled over holding his testicles, the US Champion ends his golf clap and nails his opponent in the back of the head with a stiff elbow. He grabs Ash around the waist and lifts him straight up, then sits down hard, slamming Ash's head into the mat with a piledriver! With no time to spare, though, Durandal lets Ash fall by the wayside in order to turn around and deal with a relatively fresh Annie E.

 

Ash rolls off to the side as Annie nails Durandal with a low dropkick as he's getting up, taking out his knee the same way that he's twice taken out Ash's. As quickly as possible, she grabs Durandal and tries to drag him over to the corner. She succeeds in pulling him over and seating herself on the top rope to look for the Tornado DDT, but the Clan member reaches up and nails her with a palm strike before she can lock it up! With that, he turns around and grabs her arms to set up the Iconoclasm... only to have Annie boot him stiffly in the back of the head! With her opponent stunned, Annie kicks him a little further out, then perches on the top rope. As soon as he turns around, Annie dives off the top rope with a flying clothesline that sends Durandal falling to the mat! Annie covers him for

 

ONE

 

 

TWO - KICKOUT with authority!

 

"It's got to be difficult for these three," points out Stevens with the voice of a veteran. "They've seen so much of each other recently, even within the past month or so. Annie and Ash know Durandal inside out, and he knows them the same way. That's why so many of the moves in this match have been counters or re-counters that we don't normally see."

 

"And in that case," says Riley, "I have to give the edge to Durandal. Experience or not, Durandal's much more inventive on the mat than either Ash or Annie. Annie's not bad, but she's not very strong. Ash has a lot of moves, but we very, very rarely see him break out something we haven't seen before."

 

"I think any one of these three could take it on any given night, Bobby."

 

"Screw that, I'd slam them all with the Outsider Bomb and walk away with all the belts."

 

With that, Durandal rolls off to the side. Ash steps up and walks to the center, where he politely extends his hand to Annie. Annie, still in her fighting stance, looks warily at Ash, and then takes his hand. The fans cheer as the two faces shake hands, but a split second later the two are grappling. Annie grabs Ash's left arm and twists it off to the side, but a moment later Ash manages to flex his arm back up and bring it back up into the standard overhand wristlock position. From there, Ash twists Annie's arm out to the side, and in one fluid motion he wrenches it and swings Annie backward into a Pikaslam! An evenly-divided crowd reacts, with half booing Ash for the high-impact move and half applauding him for taking the initiative to wrestle despite their friendship.

 

"What a beautiful Pikaslam from Ash Ketchum!" shouts Grand Slam, loving the move.

 

"What a vicious doublecross!" retorts Bobby Riley.

 

 

 

See?

 

Annie takes the impact and rolls through, getting back to her feet in time to avoid Ash's locking on a front facelock for a DDT. Annie, in fact, responds with a jab to Ash's ribs, staggering the Pokemaniac. Annie follows the jab up with another series of right jabs, moving up Ash's body until she gets to the head, at which point she nails him with a solid left hook, then immediately follows through with a Drop Kiss! As Ash backs into the corner, Annie plays to the crowd in the center, and once again gets a decidedly mixed reaction. As he comes back out of the corner, Annie swings around him to attempt a Russian leg sweep... but he's too damn big, as Bobby Riley is happy to tell the viewing audience.

 

"What the hell is she doing? He's got over a hundred pounds on her! She can't grapple with him!"

 

Grand Slam, voice of reason as always, interjects with "She does have him stunned, Bobby, and it might make it easier to execute the move."

 

Annie tries to complete the move, but she can't. She tries again, but Ash blocks it easily again. Then, as if he was just tired of waiting, Ash throws Annie head over heels with a textbook hiptoss! Annie crashes to the mat, and Ash follows her to cover for

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

THR- KICKOUT! Ash pulls Annie back to her feet as Durandal stands in the corner, watching the assault. Ash whips Annie to the ropes, but Annie has the sense to grab the top rope and stop her momentum. As if on cue, Durandal charges out of the corner and nails Ash from the side with a running Yakuza kick! Ash crumbles to the mat, and Durandal covers him for

 

ONE

 

 

TWO - KICKOUT!

 

"The US Champion MUST know by now that it's going to take more than a Doc Marten to the face to keep Ash Ketchum down, Bobby."

 

"You know, you say that all the time, but one of these days Ash is going to stay down for a Yakuza kick. Bet you'll feel stupid THEN."

 

"That didn't make any sense."

 

"Ah, shove it up your ass."

 

Durandal pulls Ash back to his feet, only to put him right back down with a lightning-fast spinning palm strike! He covers the stunned Hardcore Gamer, but before Kivell can count, Annie breaks the pin by dropping in with an elbow! Durandal rolls away before she can make impact, leaving her to hit Ash with the elbowdrop! Ash sputters up, only to see Annie there, and he looks pissed off!

 

"What a vicious maneuver by Annie!" says Riley, clearly stirring the pot. "I can't believe she'd turn on her friend like that!"

 

Grand Slam sighs as Ash gets back to his feet and stares angrily at Annie. With the deafening crowd each cheering on their favorite face, Ash and Annie stare down, the tension visible. Ash shoves Annie backwards, but as she comes back, she strikes Ash with a stiff kick to the ribs! Astoundingly, the crowd gets even louder, with some cheering for Annie and some booing her like Pol Pot.

 

"Listen to the crowd! Half of them want Annie! Half of them want Ash!" Stevens is going wild, just like the crowd. "But they all want to see action!"

 

As if on cue, Annie strikes Ash with another stiff kick to the ribs, but this time Ash catches the Angelic One's leg and, with a flick of the wrist, takes her down to the mat. She mule-kicks backwards and nails him in the head, knocking him backwards. Even with Ash stunned, though, Annie can't follow up with much, because he still has the presence of mind to grab her as soon as she gets back to her feet and nearly take her head off with a stiff right hand. With that, Ash angrily grabs Annie and lifts her up in position for an inverted cradle piledriver. He stutter-jumps into the air and then sits out, slamming Annie's head into the mat with an unconscionable....

 

"MEW DRIVER! MEW DRIVER! Ash has given up the alliance!" Judging by the sound of his voice, Grand Slam's blood pressure is through the roof. "It's over for Annie! What a solid Mew Driver!"

 

Ash stands up in the center of the ring, above the fallen Annie, and prepares to cover Annie for the fall. He doesn't, however, see Durandal nonchalantly walk up behind him and nail him with a solid shotei to the back of the head. The fans pour more heat on Durandal than a steakhouse oven as he stiffs Ash once more for good measure, then locks his hands around the PokeFreak's waist. He lifts the Undercard King high into the air for a German suplex, but doesn't throw him yet. Instead, he starts to back slowly toward the ropes. Bobby Riley is seen in the background grinning like an idiot as Mark Stevens mutters, "oh my God...." With that, Durandal arches his back and powerfully throws Ash backwards over the top rope, letting him fall unprotected to the concrete on the outside. Ash lands with a sickening THUD. Misty immediately runs over to check on her boyfriend, but he's obviously out cold.

 

Matthew Kivell, a bit surprised that Durandal broke out the brutal move again, starts his count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

FIVE!

 

SIX!

 

SEVEN!

 

EIGHT!

 

NINE!

 

TEN! He signals for the bell.

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Funyon declares, "Ash Ketchum has been eliminated as the result of a countout! Durandal and Annie E will fight to determine a winner."

 

With that, Durandal struts to the center of the ring and drops to his knees, arrogantly draping his body over Annie's. "It seems like he waited a bit too long for that," notes Stevens. "She might have taken some of that time to recover."

 

"Shut your hole, Grand Slam. He knows what he's doing."

 

Kivell counts

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

THR- KICKOUT BY ANNIE!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Remember? He's never right about the finish.

 

 

Absolutely stunned, Durandal rolls off of Annie and watches her roll to her stomach. He grabs Annie by the leg and drags her into the center, then flips her over onto her back. He drops an elbow into the side of her knee, and Annie grabs her knee in pain. He drops another elbow into Annie's knee, with the same result. Finally, he lifts her leg up again, but makes a "blow-off" gesture and instead just drops a headbutt into her stomach. Annie curls up on the mat, in obvious pain, as Durandal smugly shoves her away and rests in a corner. Confused, Stevens blurts out, "Why isn't he trying to pin her?" As if Stevens had just asked if the sky was blue, Riley retorts, "Because he wants to take her apart, you idiot."

 

Durandal lies in wait for Annie to get back to her feet. As soon as she does, he charges at her and goes for a Yakuza kick, but she ducks it and shoves his leg upward. Set criminally off balance, he falls back to the mat and Annie takes advantage of the situation by jumping on him and trying to roll him to his stomach. Instinctively, Durandal bellies out to avoid being pinned, only to have Annie thread her arm under his and go for the Crossface Chickenwing Clutch!

 

"Oh my God! What a strategic mistake by Durandal! Why would he go to his stomach against Annie?!" Stevens' voice holds a mix of pride for Annie and disgust with Durandal. "What was he thinking?!"

 

Evidently, he was thinking that he can break the hold with a series of backwards elbows and a whole lot of wriggling. He manages to spin out before Annie can lock up the crossface, swinging out on top and locking on a hammerlock. Annie merely elbows him in the temple to get him to relent, and with that he backs away. Annie turns around to face him and immediately nails him with a European uppercut. Durandal staggers back, and Annie follows him into the corner, jarring him with forearm after forearm. Once she backs him into the corner, she whips him into the opposite corner and runs to the ropes. He rebounds out of the corner and as she bounces off the ropes, she jumps up and executes a picture-perfect running bulldog! She covers for the fall, and Kivell counts

 

ONE

 

 

TWO - KICKOUT! Durandal kicks out of the bulldog, but Annie doesn't stop working! Moving solely on momentum, Annie whips Durandal to the ropes and catches his head as he rebounds. Fluidly, she brings her knee up and smashes it against Durandal's face, making his head snap back and sending him crashing to the mat! She covers him for

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

THR - NO!!!!!!!

 

"What's it going to take to keep Durandal down?" cries Stevens, to which Riley answers, "More than a thirty-second flurry."

 

Durandal rolls away, in obvious pain. Annie follows him, punting his ribs repeatedly as he continues to crawl away, right up to the point where he rolls out of the ring! With that, Annie charges to the opposite ropes and, as the Clan member gets to his feet, the Eclectic One jumps up, springs off the top rope and comes diving down with a flying clothesline! With a look of terror on his face, Durandal spreads his arms out wide!

 

"He's going to catch her!" shouts Stevens.

 

"He's going to catch her!" shouts Riley.

 

"I'll catch you!" shouts Durandal.

 

And, with that, he sidesteps and leans on the guardrail as Annie falls to the concrete, making a sounds reminiscent of a bug hitting the windshield.

 

"He didn't catch her," sighs Stevens.

 

"I KNEW he wouldn't catch her," says Riley, self-assuredly.

 

"Bite me, Angel," grins Durandal at Annie's lifeless form splattered on the concrete flooring. He nudges her with his Doc Martens, just checking for any sign of life, and then grabs her by the hair. He pulls her to her feet, then locks up a double chickenwing. From there, he slowly spins through, until he stands with his head positioned above Annie's, her arms hooked over his.

 

"He wouldn't!"

 

"Yes, Mark, I'm afraid he would. Just like last week, he knows the Unprettier is the best move to take out an ignorant little slut like this."

 

"But... on the concrete...!"

 

With that, Durandal kicks his legs out and slams Annie's face into the concrete floor, hoping that she'll forever be much, much less pretty.

 

"What a bastard! Why would you even do something like that? That was completely unnecessary!"

 

"Yeah... but it was fun, wasn't it, Mark?"

 

The US Champion picks Annie up off the floor and rolls her into the ring. He follows her in, then drags her lifeless form to the nearest corner. Seating Annie on the top rope, Durandal nails her with a stiff palm strike to her now-bruised face, then spins around and grabs her arms. With a powerful jerk, he pulls The Angelic Miss E off the top and swings her forward, slamming her onto the mat on her back with a solid Iconoclasm. He then mounts the ropes and raises his arms high into the air. As the crowd boos him relentlessly, he jumps off the top rope and floats through the air, finally landing hard on top of Annie, crashing his head into hers with a sickening THUNK.

 

"Durandal hits the Superiority Complex, and I think it may be academic from here on out," says Stevens, clearly dejected that Durandal will win as the direct result of such poor sportsmanship on the outside.

 

"Wait and see, Mark. Wait and see."

 

Shaking off the cobwebs, Durandal rolls over on top of Annie. Matthew Kivell drops down, checks the shoulders, and counts

 

ONE

 

 

TWO

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

DING DING DING!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

The fans are on their feet booing as Funyon announces, "Annie E has been eliminated... and therefore, your winner by process of elimination, and STILL SWF United States Champion... So says the Clan, so says DURANDAL!"

 

Durandal rolls over onto his back, still a bit stunned from the headbutt, while Annie simply lays limp. Matthew Kivell drapes the US belt over Durandal's chest, then exits the ring. A moment later, Durandal gets to his knees and straps the belt around his waist, then shakes off the cobwebs once more and looks over at the lifeless body of Annie E. He looks down at his waist, then back over at Annie... and bursts into peals of laughter.

 

"What's WRONG with Durandal?"

 

"Aw, ease up, Mark, he's just happy he won."

 

Durandal continues laughing uncontrollably at Annie as he looks down and examines her face. The camera catches snippets like "God, those eyes...." and "The jaw will be bruised for a week!" He remains kneeling in the center of the ring and giggling like a schoolgirl at Annie's injured face as Stevens mutters, "What a jackass... let's go to commercial."

[Guest BA_Baracus]

Storm returns to the airwaves, thousands of screaming SWF fans leap to their feet as the camera swirls around them.  After getting an extreme close up of some woman’s unusually large breasts, the camera focuses on the entrance ramp.

 

(Curry) – Welcome back!!  We’ve got one hell of a contest lined up here!  Two friends…two enemies…Sacred…Bo…ICTV Title!  Oh, it’s gonna be huge!!

 

(NTD) – Are you about to bust a nut?

 

(Curry) – Y…Y…YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

 

(NTD) – DAMMIT!!  YOU GOT IT ON MY LEG!!  LICK IT OFF BITCH!

 

As Curry bends down to lick hot cum off of NTD’s naked leg, the lights go out, and the fans roar wit excitement.  

 

“I’m a SLAAAAAAVVVVEEEEE…FOR YOU!”

 

Most of the fans begin breaking down in laughter, except for the 12 year old girls in the stands, who begin to dance and scream like banchies in the night.  “I’m A Slave” by Brittney Spears abuses the eardrums of all in attendance, and out walks…Bo?

 

(Curry) – (wiping cum from his face) What the hell is going on??

 

(NTD) – Bo changed his music, and I for one like the change!

 

Bo looks around very confusedly as his very homosexual music plays, but he moves down towards the ring regardless.  The big man is focused tonight.  

 

(Funyon) – Ladies and gentlemen…I don’t give a fuck about my job anymore.  This place is a worthless piece of crap, and I don’t know why I stayed so long.  My life blows, and I just saw Curry giving NTD a blow job.  So I’m not introducing shit.

 

Funyon stands in the center of the ring, pulls a gun from his pocket, and proceeds to blow his brains all over the canvas.  The fans stand silent for just a moment, before erupting into the cheers for the random act of self-inflicted violence.  As Funyon’s body drops, Bo slowly climbs into the ring, completely ignoring the fact that there’s a man laying in a pool of his own blood and brain cells.  

 

(Curry) – Yeah…that’s a shame.  I’m going to the bathroom.

 

Curry gets up and leaves, and the lights remain off to give way to…

 

“I’m a bitch!”

“I’m a lover!”

“I’m a child!”

“I’m a mother!”

 

(NTD) – God, I just love it when Sam the sound guy comes to work drunk.

 

Sacred pops out, looking as confused as Bo, and since there’s no Funyon to announce the ICTV champ, Sacred just skips to the ring.

 

(NTD) – Hmmmm…what’s this between my toes?

 

Sacred and Bo stare each other down in the ring, when a sudden cheer bursts from the crowd.  The camera pans to the ramp…finds nothing.  It pans the crowd…nothing.  Then, suddenly, running around in circles on top of the announce table is Meep, the Garden Gnome!!!

 

(NTD) – HEY!!  It’s Meep!  What’s up Meep!!!

 

(Curry) – Hey…what I miss…HEY MEEP!!!  They let you in here??

 

Meep ignores his two friends from the highway rest stop, and instead hurls his tiny body into the ring.  Bo and Sacred stop grappling, and stare at the tiny creature.  Meep stands between them, when suddenly, he leaps in the air and kicks them both in the face.  Special guest referee Stephanie McMahon tries to run over and stop Meep, but her breasts drag her down face first to the mat, and of course, like any good  ref, she’s out cold.

 

(Curry) – Good ol’ Meep!  It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.

 

(NTD) – I know.  What was it, that highway rest stop in Greenville South Carolina back in 98?

 

(Curry) – Oh, that was a great night!

 

Suddenly, Curry and NTD run from the scene as Mark Stevens and Bobby Riley run onto the scene.

 

(Stevens) – Dammit!  I thought they fired those guys.

 

(Riley) – No, they got them on human waste detail.

 

(Stevens) – Geez.  They should come back here and clean this up then…god…

 

Meanwhile, in the ring, Meep is kicking the shit out of both men at the same time.  No one know how he’s doing it, but he is…let me assure you.

 

Somehow, Meep bends Sacred over, bounces off the ropes, and then scores with the GARDEN VARIETY BUTT PLUG!!

 

(Stevens) – OH MY GOD!!  THAT GARDEN GNOME JUST RAMMED HIS OVERSIZED PENIS INTO SACRED’S REAR END!  OH THE HUMANITY!

 

(Riley) – I bet he enjoyed that.

 

With Sacred finished, Meep performs the same move on Bo, taking his manhood as well.

 

(Stevens) – And damn…neither man is even getting the benefit of a reach-around.

 

Meep then jumps into the crowd, and then proceeds to ram his schlong into ever ass there is, and the fans scatter like roaches.

 

(Stevens) – Well, I hope Sacred and Bo are happy.  This is their fault.  And now there’s a garden gnome raping our fans…where are you going?

 

(Riley) – To find that damn gnome.  Gotta get me some of that.

 

(Stevens) – Well, that’s it…I quit.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

“Welcome back to SWF Storm!” booms Stevens as the camera fades back in from a “Boys Gone Wild: Fraternity Fun” commercial to the Storm announcing table.  Bobby Riley and the aforementioned “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens sit in front of an excited crowd, ready for their main event.  “What a show we’ve had so far, with those two championship matches, but now we reach the coup de grace as our SWF World Champion, Edwin MacPhisto, takes on our new champions and current hot-streak riding baddies, double champion Stryke and the returning and just as evil as ever, Chris Wilson.”

 

“This should be a great way to close out the program,” predicts Riley, somewhat more inspired in his role of announcer after nearly three shows of enjoyable violence.  “Wilson and Edwin do not like each other, as was the case with Wilson and Magnifico, but now Stryke has been added in.  Wilson has announced his intentions of winning the Heavyweight championship, and a win here over our champion would be a step in the right direction.  Plus, seeing Edwin get beat up by two guys is going to be really, really cool.”

 

“Mature and impartial commentary,” sighs Stevens, “is what you get here in the SWF.  Chris Wilson and Edwin MacPhisto have a very interesting history, and when you add in the thrilling double champion Stryke you’re going to get a hellacious match-up.  Edwin is going to have to have all his wits and abilities with him tonight if he plans on fighting off two men of this caliber, even with only one of them in the ring at a time.  Of course, rules aren’t always followed by these types.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” grizzles Riley angrily.  “’These types?’  Are you making digs on evil geniuses and cocky Australians?  The Neilsens are going to plummet because you’re alienating those key demographics.  Nice work, genius.”

 

The rating tirade is interrupted as the arena lights go dark, only a white spotlight flickering on the stage as Cypress Hill’s “Rock Superstar” begins to chime through the arena.  The fans rise up to their feet in a loud ovation of dislike as blue and silver pyro explode from all across the stage.  After it clears, Stryke strolls out onto the stage, grinning widely with a belt over either arm and boos coming from all directions.  He begins to meander down the ramp as Funyon begins to speak.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for your main event!  The following handicap contest is scheduled for one fall.  First, making his way to the ring, hailing from Sydney, Australia and weighing in at two-hundred and nineteen pounds, he is your S-W-F Hardcore champion and one half of the tag team champions….STEEEEEEEEEee-ryke!”

 

Stryke reaches the bottom of the ramp as the lights slowly come up, sliding into the ring and waltzing over to the far corner.  He hops up onto the second rope and holds both belts out to an unimpressed crowd, but flashbulbs still burst around him.  He hands his belts to the official as the lights kick back to darkness and Cypress Hill fades away into…

 

“Ah….ah…ah…….Ah……..ah…ah……”

 

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

 

The crowd remains standing and sends even more hate outwards as a light fog drifts across the arena, “Summer in the City” blasting over the speakers in the fashion only Southern rap can.  After a few moments, Chris Wilson strolls out onto the stage, black trench coat swirling around him and tag title around his waist.  He pauses for a moment, absorbing the raw emotion flowing around him before heading to the ring himself.

 

“And his partner, hailing from Miami, Florida and weighing in at two hundred and seventy-three pounds…he is the other half of the tag team champions…Chris Wil-SOOOOOON!”

 

Wilson walks up the steps and through the middle rope, handing his belt to the official and nodding at Stryke before beginning to disrobe, stuffing his gloves and Oakleys into his pockets as the crowd begins to settle…

 

…but reach their feet again in a loud surge of energy as the haunting beginning of “Battleflag” by the Lo-Fidelity All-Stars starts to float through the arena.  The SmarkTron fires up, providing the only source of illumination in the form of grey silhouettes fading in and out, silhouettes of a man with his arms outstretched, a man holding a microphone, and a man leaning on a lamppost. A light beat drops in and a flowing British voice fills the ears of every little man, woman and child willing to listen…

 

“Apparently myself and monsieur Wilson do not get to tango one on one, as he gets to bring a kangaroo-lovin’ dance partner while I go solo.  However, that’s quite all right, because while they’re tripping over each other’s feet and clenching roses in their teeth, I’ll be cutting a rug like only YOUR World champion could…”

 

A pair of blue spotlights begin to swing back and forth across the entrance way, moving like pendulums in sync with the beat. As Edwin finishes his speech, the music makes its final swell and the spotlights break off their pendulous paths and spiral out into the arena, completely symmetrical in their ripping arc until they come back to the entrance stage and meet, a stuttering drumbeat echoing as they collide and send forth a wall of sudden purple strobe lights. Streaks of red and gold pyro erupt from the entrance ramp, prompting red and gold disco lights to whirl around the arena as the SmarkTron shows highlights from Edwin’s career.  The crowd explodes as Edwin MacPhisto steps out onto the stage, championship tight around his waist.  He acknowledges the fans before jauntily walking down the entranceway, keeping eyes locked with Wilson the entire time.

 

“And their opponent” The crowd grows even louder over Edwin’s music as Funyon begins again “…hailing from Amersterdam, England and weighing in at two hundred and thirty-nine pounds…he represents the Midnight Carnival and is your S-W-F Woooooorld Champion…….EDWIN MAC-phis-TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Edwin takes off his red vinyl coat and tosses it over the top rope, sliding under the ropes and catching it before immediately hopping to his feet and facing his opponents, who await strangely calm in the opposite corner, eyeing up the flashy fan favorite.  Edwin hands his coat and belt to the official who hands them through the ropes to the outside and motions for one of the two men in the other corner to step up.  Stryke steps forward as Wilson slips out onto the apron and the two more-than-ready men begin to circle each other…

 

DING DING DING!

 

…as the match begins!  “Edwin and Stryke are starting this thing,” begins Stevens, “and lets see how this relatively young superstar matches up for the first time against the World Champion.  They lock up and Edwin immediately takes the advantage with a side headlock.  A series of stiff elbows to his upper abdomen changes his mind and the grip loosens, giving Stryke a chance to shove him hard into the ropes.  As Edwin rebounds, Stryke wraps his legs around Edwin’s ankles and drops him with a hard drop toehold.  Both men bounce up to their feet, Stryke swinging wildly and having his right hook blocked before catching a pair of hard slaps across his face and a quick roundhouse to the side of the head.”  The crowd cheers loudly as Stryke stumbles back towards the corner and Edwin charges at him, keeping the pressure on.

 

“Edwin can’t afford to let up at all,” advises Riley.  “He’s got to wear down two men, or at least one, before he himself gets taken out.  It’s going to take quite a bit, so he’s got to get his licks in while he can.  He forces Stryke the rest of the way into the corner and sprays a series of snap kicks across his legs and knees.  The referee’s count gets to four and Edwin releases, only to take a thumb to the eye as he does so.  Stryke drives his knee into Edwin’s gut and bounces his head off of the top turnbuckle before wrapping around him from behind and lifting him high into the air before smashing our champion back down to the mat with a belly-to-back suplex.  The crowd reiterates its dislike for a certain superstar as Stryke strides over to his corner and tags in Wilson, who steps through the ropes and immediately sprints over to Edwin, putting the boots to him as he tries to stand.”

 

“That’s just like Wilson,” declares Stevens.  “Kick a man while he’s down.  He leans over, thrusting some right hands into Edwin’s face before standing up and allowing Edwin to stand.  Wilson smirks at him as Edwin reaches his full height and the two men begin to circle each other.  Both men probe for an opening, exchanging a few choice words as they do so.  Eventually Edwin’s superior reach allows him to grab Wilson’s arm and twist him into a hammerlock.  Wilson manages to easily spin himself out of it and twist Edwin into a hammerlock of his own.  Edwin easily escapes as well, using a different method of three of four elbows to the body.  Wilson releases him and Edwin spins around with a hard right hand that sends Wilson stumbling back.  He runs up and tries to follow up with a shotei, but Wilson manages to catch it with both hands and push back, using his strength to separate the two men.”

 

“The key in the battle between these two men,” points out Riley, “is that as far as ingenuity, high-flying and technical ability go, these two are about as equal as you can get.  Wilson may have the edge in submission ability while Edwin’s striking is better, but the key is that Wilson’s stronger and Edwin is quicker.  If these two do eventually hook up one-on-one, that’s what you’re going to have to look for.”

 

“Thank you, John Madden.”

 

“Does that make you Al Michaels?”

 

“Not on your life.”  

 

Wilson comes at Edwin with some blistering forearms and an Irish whip.  As he recoils, Wilson delivers a knee to the gut, flipping him over.  Edwin immediately gets back up to his feet and is thrown hard into the corner.  Wilson comes soaring in with a Stinger splash, but finds only turnbuckle as Edwin rolls out of the way and slips on a rear-waist lock.  The crowd pops loudly as Wilson is crunched into the mat with a delayed German suplex…with a bridge!  ONE…

 

 

TWO..and only two as Wilson twists his shoulder off of the mat.  Both men get back to their feet and Wilson scurries over to his corner and tags in Stryke, who comes charging at Edwin a full head of steam…only to have his clothesline ducked and get sent to the mat with a side Russian leg sweep!  As Stryke wobbles to his feet, Edwin hops to the top and explodes off backwards, twisting in the air with an elbow press that squashes Stryke to the mat.  Edwin covers again.  ONE…

 

 

 

TWO and only two again.  Edwin stands Stryke up, whips him off of the ropes…but he telegraphs a back body drop and Stryke plants his skull to the mat with a facebuster!  Stryke slowly crawls over to the corner and tags in Wilson, who starts issuing orders as he steps into the ring.  He points at Edwin and indicates for Stryke to set him up on his shoulders as the evil genius crawls up onto the top rope, waiting impatiently.  Stryke looks confused, before realizing he’s setting up for a Doomsday Device.

 

“This is great!” giggles Riley.  “Stryke is lifting the lanky Edwin up onto his shoulders and stumbling towards the corner where Wilson waits to deliver some of top-rope nastiness.  Stryke’s having a hard time, however, and Edwin’s just got his head cleared enough to realize what’s about to happen.  He delivers a few stiff punches to the back of our Hardcore champion’s head before slipping off of his back and landing directly behind him.  Dammit!”

 

“Edwin’s thinking here,” states Stevens, “as right away he shoves Stryke forward, his head crashing into Wilson’s crotch and low-blowing his own partner!  This crowd is alive again as Edwin knocks Stryke aside for a moment and delivers a stiff roundhouse to Wilson’s head, knocking him from up top to the outside.  Stryke tries to change his team’s current fortunes as he drops under Edwin’s arm and sets him up for the Breakdown…but Edwin jams the tip of his elbow into Stryke’s head a few times and spins out of it, locking arms with the smaller Aussie as he spins back-to-back, and begins to take him over with a backslide!  The crowd is ecstatic as Edwin leaps forward, CRUNCHING STRYKE TO THE MAT WITH AN ENCORE CROSS!  Edwin immediately rolls him over and hooks the leg, eager to end his pain and this match…but the referee isn’t counting?!”

 

Riley starts to laugh like only a twisted man can.  “Stryke’s not the legal man!  He just tagged in Wilson before that botched Doomsday Device and is just now sliding back into the ring, behind Edwin.  He spins around to catch Wilson’s boot to the stomach and is locked in a double underhook as he doubles over, unable to fight off his body’s natural reaction.  Wilson lifts him up into the air, at a 45-degree angle to the ground and drives him hard to the mat with a double-arm DDT!  The crowd roars with outrage as Wilson rolls Edwin over and covers him…ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

TH…and Edwin twists a shoulder off of the ground.”  Wilson keeps attacking as Stryke rolls out of the ring to catch a breather.  He drags Edwin up to his feet and jacks a European uppercut into his jaw.  Edwin drops back down to one knee and Wilson connects with a savage head BUTT, knocking both men awry.  Edwin is down to his hands and knees and Wilson wraps him up in a gutwrench.  He lifts him up into the air, spins and drives him back down to the mat with a hard-diving powerbomb.  The crowd cheers on their hero as Wilson covers him again.  ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

TH…and another near fall as Edwin manages to kick out again.  Wilson doesn’t hesitate to yank Edwin up to his feet and whip his weary opponent against the ropes.  As he bounces back towards him, Wilson spins around and catches him across the face with a reverse elbow and immediately pulls him back up to his feet, Edwin half-dead after fighting off two men all this time.  Wilson attempts to Irish whip Edwin again, but the flashy Brit shifts his weight and manages to reverse it.  He attempts a clothesline, but Wilson ducks it and spins on his heel before flashing a superkick…which is caught by Edwin!  The crowd pops madly as Edwin gives Wilson a quick wink before spinning him down to the canvas with a dragon screw leg whip, not releasing Wilson’s limb as he twists over and sits back into a Boston half-crab!

 

Wilson lets out a cry of pain as he begins to struggle towards the ropes.  He winces in pain as he reaches out for the salvation of the bottom rope, inching closer and closer but only as the pain increases and increases.  Edwin leans back, wrenching even more pressure on the leg of his adversary.  The referee drops down to see if Wilson wants to give, but the evil genius gives a very painful “no” as he shakes his head and grits his teeth.  Out of the corner of his eye, the official sees Stryke re-entering the ring and he rushes over to head him off at the pass and to save Edwin from a cheap-shot form behind.  But in his haste to play sheriff, the official misses Wilson’s will finally snapping as he taps out to Edwin’s submission!  The crowd lets out a collective cry of disbelief as Wilson slaps the canvas, wanting out of the hold.  Edwin realizes the official is nowhere to be seen and releases the hold as the referee and Stryke continue their tussle near the corner.  He slowly raises Wilson up to his hands and knees…but catches a hard low blow for his troubles!  Edwin collapses to the mat, holding his groin as Wilson limps over to the corner and tags in Stryke, rolling out of the ring and leaning against the steps.

 

“That was a rough turn of events for Edwin,” utters Stevens.  “He’s had this match won twice already with his Encore Cross and now Wilson’s submission, but the referee hasn’t counted either because of various reasons.”

 

“And he just took a shot to the pills.  That’s never good either.”

 

“No, no its not, Bobby.  Stryke is capitalizing on Wilson’s crotch-shot by wrapping his arms around Edwin’s stomach and jerking back, sending the taller Brit bouncing across the mat with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex.  The crowd isn’t too happy…hold on a second.  A robed figure is slowly walking down the ramp, chair in hand!  What in the hell is going on here?”

 

“I’m not sure,” replies Riley, confused as well.  “That looks like a Clansmen robe, but both active members were in action earlier tonight and really don’t have too much of a stake in this match.  The hood’s up so I can’t tell who it is.  But Stryke isn’t distracted as he climbs up to the top and faces away from Edwin before kicking off in a high moonsault, slowly rotating that extra bit to come down for the Event Horizon…but Edwin rolls out of the way and Stryke slams down to the mat, catching none of his opponent!”

 

Stryke and Edwin both reach their feet at the same time, coming to blows in the center of the ring as the robed figure stands beside the ring, still clutching the steel chair at the base of the ramp.  Edwin manages to connect with a quick shotei to the chest that sends Stryke bouncing into the ropes and right into a spinebuster from the champ.  As soon as skin meets canvas, Edwin yanks him back up and drops him back down to the mat with a hard powerbomb, completing the Love Rollercoaster!  He quickly hooks Stryke’s leg, pulling waaaaay back…ONE…

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

THR…and Wilson breaks up the count, sprinting across the ring and dropping a double axe-handle across the back of Edwin.  The referee immediately shoves Wilson back to his corner.  Wilson jaw-jacks the official a few moments before hopping off the apron and heading over to the announcer’s table to grab a chair.  Back in the ring as the referee takes care of Wilson,Edwin stands Stryke up and whips him against the ropes near the announcer’s desk.  Stryke manages to duck Edwin’s clothesline, bouncing off the opposite ropes-

 

CRACK!

 

But catching the robed attacker’s steel chair across the back!  Edwin doesn’t hesitate to grab the reeling Aussie and roll him over with an inside cradle, just as the referee turns around, dropping to the mat as an excited crowd cheers him on.  ONE…

 

 

 

 

TWO…

 

 

 

 

THREEEEE…..and Edwin wins the match, just as Stryke manages to roll his shoulder off of the ground!

 

DING DING DING

 

“What a win by Edwin!” praises Stevens as Wilson looks up in shock as the referee raises Edwin’s hand in  victory.  “Wilson just rolled into the ring with a chair in hand as Edwin quickly spins around to face the robed mystery man who slowly walks up the steps, reaches up and pulls back his hood to reveal….

 

THOTH?!”

 

“What?” wonders Riley aloud.  “Thoth just helped Edwin win a match.  Wilson looks at Edwin, then at Thoth, then back to Edwin in disbelief.  What a plan by Edwin…um…using one of his mortal enemies to help win this handicap match?”

 

“I don’t think Edwin knows what’s going on either,” assumes Stevens as Edwin’s elastic face twists into a frown of deep confusion.  “Thoth simply nods at Edwin then glowers at Wilson before stepping back off of the steps and slowly backing up the ramp as a confused crowd buzzes loudly.  Edwin and Wilson are both scratching their heads at the events that occurred as Stryke stares down at Thoth with evil intent after he just cost him the win against our champion.”

 

Edwin exits the ring and Wilson looks at the chair in hand but thinks to himself “Screw it”, tossing the chair out of the ring as “Battleflag” kicks up.  Edwin grabs his belt and heads up the ramp, the crowd cheering him on after his big win.  The referee comes back into the ring with a handful of gold, handing it to Stryke and Wilson, neither looking very happy.

 

“I don’t think anybody in the arena, save Thoth, really knows what’s going on,” cites Stevens, “but that makes for some great television!  So don’t forget to tune into Smarkdown on Monday to see what is going on between Edwin, Wilson and Thoth, not to mention Stryke.  I’m Mark Stevens-“

 

“-and I’m Bobby Riley-“

 

“-And we’re saying goodnight to you from SWF Storm!”

 

The show fades to black with a final shot of Wilson and Stryke in the ring, wondering what exactly happened to their chance at beating the champion.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

SINGLES MATCH

Johnny Rotten vs. Fallout

- Fallout wins this one...surprising eh?

 

3-WAY US TITLE MATCH

Durandal © vs. Ash Ketchum vs. Annie Eclectic

- Durandal retains.  

 

ICTV TITLE MATCH

Sacred © vs. Perfect Bo

- Sacred is officially jobbed for eternity for his general crapulence.

 

HANDICAP MATCH

Edwin MacPhisto vs. Chris Wilson & Stryke

- Edwin wins due to help from...well, read it for yourself!