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SWF Storm - 7-6-2007

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The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...
Live, THURSDAY, July 5th, from the Vikingskipet Arena in Hamar, Norway!
(6pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings)
(Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3)


European arenas kill American arenas. We don't have anything that comes close to looking like a giant squashed bug.


Alan Clark vs. Nathaniel Kibagami

--> Kibagami requests a challenge. He gets the World F*EXPLETIVE DELETED BY DISNEY CORP*ing Champion. That enough of a challenge for you, Natty?
Rules: Standard singles match.


Wild and Dangerous vs. Revolution-0 (Toxxic and Austin Sly)

--> Wild and Dangerous finally back in action! This is a good thing! So is Revolution-0, but that part of the description would be better off waiting until I'm coherent enough to write it!
Rules: Standard tag. If you don't use the tag ropes, you will be fined six months salary and be forced to memorize the Doomtopian to English dictionary to serve as Tom Flesher's personal translator for all matters regarding Jimmy the Doom.


The Fabulous Jakey vs. "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins

--> A power outage? That's the best you can do? You could at least be creative and say you missed your plane or something. Sheesh.
Rules: Standard singles.


Blue Leaf vs. Michael Alexander

--> One super hero lightweight meets one mad genius with a pinch of luchadore - could you resist throwing these two together in a Cruiserweight Match? If you said yes, you're a better man than I.
Rules: Standard with Cruiser addenda - outside count goes to 20, no throwing opponents over the top rope.


Fulminatus! vs. Saint C. Killa

--> Two of the more... ahem... colorful competitors in the New Blood tournament meet up in the second round, and we've decided to throw the rules in their favor! At least, I hope it's in their favor... neither man strikes me as a Pure Rules kind of guy, so it's chairshots all around!
Rules: Hardcore! No rules of any sort, and falls count wherever you damn well please!


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(Mak) Welcome to the Vikingskipet Arena in beautiful Hamar, Norway! I’m “The Franchise” Mak Francis, and next to me as always is The Suicide King, whether I like it or not.


[King] What the hell’s so beautiful about it? I went out earlier to get a cheeseburger and no one knew what the hell I was talking about. I’m still hungry, dammit!


(Mak) You should’ve went out to eat with the Four Norsemen. I bet one of them could’ve gotten you some food.


[King] I still don’t understand why we have to go out on these world tours. Seriously, does the Gund Arena get that damned boring? I mean, who the hell in Norway even watches the SWF?


A quick glance around the arena would show you exactly how many people in Norway watch the show, as the Vikingskipet Arena is absolutely filled to the brim with Norsemen, all screaming loudly in eager anticipation of the exciting wrestling program to come. Many signs adorn the arena, though most of them are largely illegible to the American audiences.


[King] What’s the first match, and PLEASE tell me it’s something that’ll keep me entertained.


(Mak) Well, it ought to, King. It’s a hardcore match between--


[King] Alright! A little blood to start off the night. Sounds good!


(Mak) Between Saintly C. Killa and Fulminatus in a second round match in the tournament for the New Blood Championship.


[King] Dammit! Just when I was getting excited. You tell me I have to watch a match between a damn giant clown and a... whatever the hell Fulminatus is supposed to be? Maybe we’ll get lucky and these two will just exterminate each other.


(Mak) You may just get your wish, King. These two newcomers aren’t exactly the most stable of people, and I think they very well might do anything in their power to stop each other. And as luck would have it, they have the perfect means to do just that, competing in a hardcore contest here tonight!


[King] Let’s get this over with...


Funyon stands poised in the ring and raises the mic to his mustachioed mouth. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is under hardcore rules!” with added emphasis on the word hardcore.




A surprisingly large cheer erupts from the crowd as “Song 2” by Blur hits the speakers. Saintly C. Killa steps through the curtain and raises his arms on the stage holding his kendo stick aloft, a sadistic grin upon his painted face. His entrance video displays evidence of his previous wrestling exploits, including a great many people being battered about the face with his trademark Singapore cane.


“Introducing first, weighing in at three hundred and forty-two pounds, from Jersey City, New Jersey... SAINTLYYYY C. KILLAAAA!!” Funyon booms over the cheers of the crowd.


He walks down the ramp somewhat quickly, his trench coat blowing behind him, eager to get the hardcore match started. The monster of a man easily clears the top rope with a swing of his leg and paces back and forth, looking at the crowd before coming to a halt. As he stands in the ring, Saintly again raises his arms to the sky for the crowd, who respond vociferously for the hardcore harlequin.


(Mak) It looks as though Saintly C. isn’t exactly a stranger to this type of match, King.


[King] What makes you say that?


(Mak) Well for one thing, that video on the SmarkTron showing him pounding the crap out of what looks to be at least a dozen people with his kendo stick. Oh, and the fact that he brought a weapon to the ring.


[King] What does that prove? He’s always carrying that thing around! Anyway, that video must have been footage from before he got here. We’ve only seen him in one match, so far, and I’ve seen nothing I like.


(Mak) What if he beats the hell out of Fulminatus tonight? Would that make you feel a little better?


[King] It might...


Saintly C. removes his trench coat and top hat and tosses them ringside as Funyon again does what he does best. “And his opponent--”


We can almost hear the veteran ring announcer’s “Dammit!” at being cut off before the lights flicker out. After an uncomfortably long pause, there is a great explosion of white sparks on the stage as Iron Butterfly’s rock classic “Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida” rocks the house. Out through the smoke walks Fulminatus to a far smaller but still surprising amount of cheers.


“And his opponent,” a perturbed Funyon continues “weighing in at one hundred and ninety pounds... FULMINAAAATUUUUS!!”


The masked man meanders down the entrance ramp and eyes his opponent carefully... probably. Although his eyes are not visible under his mask, it is assumed that any opponent of a sadistic, near seven foot clown would be eyeing said opponent carefully indeed.


(Mak) And there’s Fulminatus who we saw defeat Calvin Szechstein last week on Storm with... an unusual tactic to say the least. God, he’s already wrestled two matches here and I still don’t know what to make of this guy.


[King] Well I don’t like him. These people paid to see wrestling, not a goddamned human whirligig.


With a sudden halt, Fulminatus stops just shy of the ring, obviously leery or at the very least curious of his armed opponent in the ring. He slides into the ring and crouches on the mat, very much looking up at his considerably taller opponent. After a moment’s hesitation, Fulminatus leaps to his feet and charges his opponent, arms flailing wildly, who responds in turn with a kendo stick to the head causing the crowd to cheer wildly! Waving his hand, the referee quickly signals for the bell to start the match as Fulminatus staggers back.





Holding his head, Fulminatus reels around in a circle, wandering back around to Saintly C. The giant clown then responds with another kendo stick shot, cracking over the top of Fulminatus’ masked head! Again Fulminatus lurches back, and again he drifts back to his opponent, this time with somewhat of a grin on his face, challenging Killa to hit him again. This time, Saintly C. takes no chances and bashes Fulminatus in the head with the splintering kendo stick one, two, three more times! These shots push the masked man back toward the ropes. The last hit sends the madman falling through the ropes, crashing onto the barely padded concrete floor below!


(Mak) Thirty seconds into the match and we’re already out of the ring! It sure seems like Saintly C. knows how to run a hardcore match. He just delivered five brutal headshots from that Singapore cane to Fulminatus.


[King] I’ll hand it to Fulminatus, Mak. He certainly likes to get hit in the head.


(Mak) No doubt about that, King. He’s obviously a glutton for punishment.


[King] We oughta introduce him to Dace. That’d straighten him out!


Incredibly, Fulminatus manages to get to his knees on the outside, swaying perhaps more than usual. Over the top rope steps Saintly C. Killa, hopping to the floor, pursuing his quarry with the referee following close behind. He approaches Fulminatus and lifts his weapon high over his head. As he looks down at his opponent, Saintly C. sees only a wide grin looking back at him. Killa responds with a smirk of his own... before bringing the cane down with full force across Fulminatus’ skull with a sickening crack, actually managing to more or less shatter the Singapore cane. The fans roar wildly as Fulminatus simply crumples and falls to his side. The confident Saintly C. Killa crouches down and covers his incapacitated opposition. The referee falls to his knees and makes the count.



























(Mak) I don’t believe that! Fulminatus just kicked out after suffering six Singapore cane shots in a row!


[King] Son of a bitch...


(Mak) What has got to be going through the mind of Saintly C. Killa right now?


[King] Oh, he’s got to be furious, Mak! I know I‘d be upset at a guy who got up after six cane shots!


Actually, the opposite appears to be true as Saintly C. Killa appears to be quite pleased, possibly invigorated at the prospect of an opponent who can take the damage he’s surely going to dish out. He picks up his stunned opponent and gets Fulminatus to his shaky feet. Using only a fraction of his titanic strength, Killa hoists the masked man up high above his head, nearly a full ten feet in the air and then abruptly drops him! With a gut-wrenching clack, Fulminatus’ face lands squarely on the guardrail! The crowd groans in response to the absolutely vicious move. As he rolls over on the ground, a dark wet spot appears on the forehead of Fulminatus’ mask; blood leaking out of at least one open wound.


(Mak) Looks as though Fulminatus has been busted open underneath that mask! It’s hard to tell how badly he’s hurt though, King.


[King] No, really?


(Mak) That’s one of the downfalls about wrestling in a mask, you never know how serious a head wound is until after the match. Sometimes by then it’s too late. It’s a big problem down South.


[King] Down South? What, in Denmark?


(Mak) No, not South of Norway! I meant down South in Mex-- never mind...


By now, Saintly C. Killa has hoisted his limp opponent up onto his shoulder and is walking up the ramp towards the back, screaming something about “playtime” as the referee wanders behind them. Out of nowhere, Fulminatus comes to his senses, such as they are, and hooks his arm around Killa’s neck, swinging his full weight backwards and slamming the clown’s head squarely into the steel entrance ramp with a DDT! The crowd roars in excitement as Saintly C’s painted head hits the ramp with a clang. With a sudden burst of speed, Fulminatus gets to his feet and runs up the ramp at top speed... for about three steps before collapsing abruptly.


(Mak) A surprise DDT by Fulminatus takes down Saintly C! Fulminatus now looking a little shaky after taking so many hits to the head.


[King] A little shaky? He cant even walk! Look at him, it’s like watching a drunk stagger home from the casino after losing his bank roll. Hilarious!


Again Fulminatus gets up and attempts to run, but finds the pain in his head too much to endure and his uncooperative body slams hard against the steel. Unable to keep himself on his feet for more than a few steps at a time, he instead opts to frantically crawl his way up the ramp towards the backstage area. More than a little upset, Saintly C. stands up and heads for the slithering Fulminatus.


“Oh, you wanna go to the back, huh?” the massive clown is heard to say as he picks up the struggling man beneath him, “Then let’s GO TO THE BACK!!” Saintly C. screams as he whips Fulminatus the rest of the way up the ramp. The masked man slams violently into the metal entranceway and stumbles through the curtain to the back with Killa and the ref following close behind in hot pursuit.


(Mak) I guess no one’s surprised by this, but it appears as though we’re headed to the back!


[King] Killa’s just throwing Fulminatus around like a rag doll, now. I wish the sadistic bastard would just end this thing. Then we could just all go home!


(Mak) You do realize that this is only the first match of the night, right?


[King] God dammit...


As Saintly C. Killa steps through the curtain to the back he sees... nothing. His opponent is nowhere in sight. There is only a stage manager seated at a table with a few monitors watching the show. He is quietly sipping coffee. The massive clown confers with the ref, but the referee is obviously no help. Saintly C. is confused for a moment before turning to ask the stage manager where his opponent ran off to. He turns, but before he can utter a word, his legs are kicked out from under him and he crashes to the concrete floor! From under the table crawls Fulminatus still visibly dazed, and for someone to be able to tell when the masked madman is actually dazed is a feat in and of itself.


With great effort, Fulminatus gets to his feet and looks down at his opponent who quickly springs up to a sitting position. Out of desperation, Fulminatus yanks the cup of coffee out of the hands of the stage manager and tosses it’s remnants into the face of Saintly C! The mad clown screams in pain as Fulminatus wanders away deeper into the backstage area, managing to more or less stay on his feet.


(Mak) A little bit of deception by Fulminatus, there, throwing a steaming hot cup of coffee into the face of Saintly C. Killa.


[King] Ah, throwing coffee in someone’s face... that takes me back...


(Mak) How long’s it been?


[King] Oh... hours.


Wiping the hot beverage from his eyes, Saintly C. stands and is absolutely fuming as he walks down the hallway in the general direction of his opponent. Several wrestlers are idly strolling about the backstage area, including an unsuspecting Ced Ordonez, casually leaning against the wall, eating what appears to be a Rueben sandwich. Unfortunately, the Bemani Cross Wizard happens to be the one directly in Saintly C’s path.


The giant clown grabs the much smaller man by his shirt and lifts him up against the wall. With a growl he asks “Where’d he go?” to which a highly confused Ordonez replies with a mouthful of Rueben “Locker room!” The big man drops the little man and heads off down the hallway to a door a few rooms down. The wide-eyed Ced simply sits down and goes back to eating his sandwich.


[King] Can Ced physically NOT be in the wrong place at the wrong time?


(Mak) No, I’m pretty sure that’s just part of who he is.


[King] Remarkable...


Killa nears the door marked “Locker Room” and kicks it open with his big boot. He steps in and is quickly dropped to the floor by a stiff kick to the side of his knee. The moment the big man hits the floor, Fulminatus leaps onto his back and grabs him by his long shaggy hair, smashing his face into the white tile floor! His face is slammed three more times until Fulminatus stops and inexplicably leaves his prone opponent. Saintly C. rolls over and reveals the Rorschach of a white, black, and coffee colored face print left on the floor.


Fulminatus closes the door, leaving just the two wrestlers, the ref, and the cameraman in the locker room. The room is empty besides a few stray bits of clothing and a portable stereo sitting on one of the benches. It is to this stereo that Fulminatus approaches and busies himself with.


(Mak) What the hell is Fulminatus doing?


[King] The hell if I know!


“Do you mind if we listen to some music?” the masked man asks in his strange high-pitched warble “I do hope you like Motown!” He selects a cassette from a nearby stack and places it in the stereo, which has the words “ROCK BOX” carved into the top of it. The song begins to play with an upbeat flute intro as Saintly C. Killa begins to rise.


(Mak) Is that... is that Smokey Robinson?!


“Now if there’s a smile on my face...”


“It’s only there trying to fool the public...”


[King] He’s playing “Tears of a Clown”...


Sure enough, the soul classic “Tears of a Clown” by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles plays merrily, severely and inappropriately juxtaposing the carnage in the room.


“But when it comes down to fooling you...”


With Saintly C. rising to his knees, Fulminatus lays in a heavy kick to the back of his head, sending him back down to the tile. Using up most of his strength, Fulminatus raises the much larger man to his feet...


“Now honey that’s quite a different subject...”


And whips him face first into the steel lockers on the left-hand side of the room with a deafening bang!


“But don’t let my glad expression...”


With a grimmace on his face, Killa is then whipped into the lockers on the opposing side of the room, tripping over the bench in front of it!


“Give you the wrong impression...”


Astonishingly, the sadistic clown’s head actually manages to dent one of the blue steel lockers!


“’Cause really I’m sad, Oh I’m sadder than sad...”


As most of his upper body slams against the steel lockers, the force of his three hundred and forty-two pounds causes a few of the unlocked locker doors to fly open. The contents of them falls onto the wrestler and scatters across the floor.


“Well I’m hurt and I want you so bad...”


“Like a clown I appear to be glad ooh yeah...”


(Mak) I honestly cannot believe this is happening...


[King] And we’ve still got two more hours left to go.


Seeing his opponent is thoroughly incapacitated, Fulminatus begins doing a strange dance, something between an epileptic shaking maracas and an ocelot trying to flirt with a chicken. He even attempts to sing along, and although his high voice is in the range of Smokey Robinson’s, he is horrendously off key.


“Well there’re some sad things known to man...”


Looking back at his opponent, he notices something lying on the ground, having fallen out of one of the lockers. It is an ice skate.


[King] No... he’s not thinking about... Wait, what the hell’s an ice skate doing here?


(Mak) Well, this arena was originally built for Olympic speed skating, and they still practice in it during the off season. But you don’t think he’s...


“But ain’t too much sadder than...”


Indeed he is. A happily smiling Fulminatus takes the ice skate and sits down on the bench over Saintly C. Killa. As he holds up his opponent by the hair, he drags the sharp blade of the ice skate across the semi-painted forehead of Saintly C!


“The tears of a clown...”


Blood pours out of the open wound on the forehead of the screaming clown, and one can almost hear the collective howl of the audience echo even down to the locker room as they witness the disgusting act on the SmarkTron.


“When there’s no one around...”


(Mak) This is just sick! Somebody ought to stop this!


[King] I’m about to lose the lunch I didn’t eat...


As the song continues, the referee attempts to stop Fulminatus by grabbing the skate from his hand. He is reticent to give it up, though, and he struggles with the ref. This gives Saintly C. enough time to shove Fulminatus backwards off the bench, hitting his head on the floor with a disgusting thud. His face now an avant garde collage of white, black, coffee, and blood, Killa gets up and intends to prove true the latter half of his name. Wiping the blood out of his eyes, Saintly C. moves towards his opponent and kicks him furiously in the head!


Even after such tremendous head trauma, Fulminatus still manages to sit up. The astonished and very, very angry clown looks over, single-handedly palms the stereo in his massive hand, swings, and brings it right down over the head of Fulminatus! The pieces scatter, Fulminatus drops, and Smokey stops singing as Saintly C. mutters “Fucking finally!” and covers his opponent.



























Fulminatus reaches up and jams his thumb in the massive head wound of Saintly C. Killa, causing him to break the count, screaming!


(Mak) Fulminatus pulling from an incredible reserve of energy as he manages to break the cover of Saintly C. Killa just in the nick of time!


[King] He’s gotta be running on fumes now, though.


(Mak) No question. The man has suffered severe head trauma at this point. I’ll say it’s a miracle if he walks out of here with only a concussion.


[King] Well, how the hell would we notice if he had brain damage?


To say that Saintly C. is furious right now would be an understatement. The massive clown grabs the madman by the arm with one of his massive paws and drags him toward the door muttering something harsh, the only discernable word of which is “...motherfucker...” He opens the door and drags his limp opponent back into the hall and down the other way. Glinting under the fluorescent light, something at the end of the hallway catches Killa’s eye: a sign. It says “Stairs”. Somehow, the hardcore harlequin manages to smile beneath all the face paint, coffee, and blood.


(Mak) Am I the only one who doesn’t trust Saintly C. Killa anywhere near a set of stairs?


[King] No, I’ll second that.


As Saintly C. drags Fulminatus down the hall, the weak madman spies a chair out of the corner of his eye. It’s not just any chair, though. It’s a locally handmade wooden chair. The very, very weak Fulminatus somehow manages to grab the chair as he’s dragged by. With all the might left in him, the masked man lifts the chair with his free hand, swings it with every last available ounce of his strength...




It does little more than bounce off the back of the titan dragging him. It does cause Killa to turn around to see what he was hit with, however. Seeing the chair, Saintly C. stops dragging Fulminatus and picks up the chair beside him. He feels it in his hand for a moment, perhaps feeling the weight and balance of the piece of furniture, maybe even eyeing the aesthetics of the hand-crafted masterpiece. Maybe not. Then without even a trace of preparation, he swings the chair down at his opponent’s head at top speed!


(Mak) Look out!


[King] This is gonna be messy...


At this point, two remarkable things happen. First, the chair fails to hit it’s target, it’s target having rolled out of the path of the beautiful instrument of destruction. Second, the chair doesn’t break. In fact, it doesn’t even crack. It is, in fact, an incredibly well made wooden chair.


(Mak) Fulminatus rolls out of the way as that chair came swinging down at his head. I cant believe that chair didn’t break!


[King] When a man that big swings just about anything, you can pretty much count on it breaking. That’s a high quality product, right there!


(Mak) Isn’t it good?


[King] Norwegian wood?


With the crazed clown looking down at the invulnerable chair in his hands, Fulminatus somehow manages to reach his leg up and in a last ditch effort kick the chair into Saintly C. Killa’s bloody jaw! The force of the blow sends Saintly C. staggering back against the door. Something primitive inside his masked head still forces Fulminatus to try and crawl toward his opponent, not yet ready to lay down. Killa shakes the cobwebs out of his head and looks toward his opponent, clawing feebly at the tile floor in a pathetic attempt at locomotion. Saintly C. shakes his head in disbelief and utters a single compound word:




(Mak) I get it now. Fulminatus just keeps saving up what’s left of his energy for when he needs it most. Saving it up to kick out of a pin, or roll out of the way of a chair, or--


[King] Or to try and crawl after a man kicking your ass?


Finally having enough, Saintly C. Killa decides to end the match and grabs his opponent. Killa boots open the door to the stairwell and drags his opponent through. He nears the edge of the stairs and looks down; there is about twenty feet down the steps until the landing below. Saintly C. lifts his almost lifeless opponent up on his back by his armpits. “This is really gonna hurt” the sadistic clown says as he lifts Fulminatus up for the Martyr’s Drop!


(Mak) There’s no way in hell he’s going to do this!


[King] He’s gonna crucifix powerbomb Fulminatus down a flight of friggin’ stairs?!


Killa leans forward to hurl his opponent to what looks to be his certain doom, when suddenly the masked man wriggles loose, knocking his opponent off balance. The giant clown drops his opponent and falls forward, tumbling down the stairs! He flips and flops as he falls down the twenty feet of unforgiving tile-covered cement steps, and smacks hard against the wall at the bottom of the stairs! The crowd can faintly be heard chanting “HELLIG LORT!! HELLIG LORT!!” (Holy Shit! in Norwegian) as Fulminatus somehow manages to struggle to his feet.


(Mak) That was absolutely insane! Killa just tumbled down a flight of stairs!


[King] That’s incredible!


What’s incredible is the fact that on the bottom of the stairs, Saintly C. is now almost back to his feet. The referee has an absolutely shocked look on his face, as both men stand wobbling at either end of the stairs.


(Mak) Ok, there’s a serious problem here: neither man is willing to go down. One of these guys will have to do something really-- OH MY GOD!!


That expression proves very appropriate as without warning, Fulminatus weakly manages to leap through the air down the stairs, cutting a flip! With some manner of divine precision, he actually manages to more or less hit Saintly C. staggering at the bottom of the steps with the Confusion Bomb! At the last second, the shocked clown does what he can to try and catch his opponent to lessen the blow, but Fulminatus still nails Killa hard and sends the pair down to the concrete. Somehow, the masked man lands atop his opponent, unwittingly pinning his shoulders to the concrete.

































“Your winner of the match, FULMINAAAATUUUUS!!” Funyon belts from ringside.


(Mak) That may have been the most frightening opening match in history...


[King] Don’t tell me either of those men are alive after that match. Don’t even try and tell me!


Both men lay unmoving at the bottom of the stairs. The referee holds up Fulminatus’ arm in victory and it simply falls back down. A moment passes and Fulminatus rolls over off of his opponent. With the very last drop of his energy, his arm moves forward and grabs the hand of his opponent. In a show of what must surely be respect, Fulminatus shakes the limp hand of Saintly C. Killa and then promptly collapses again.


(Mak) Wow, after all the pain inflicted between each other, they still find the time to show some respect.


[King] Ugh, this makes me sick. Stay tuned, we’ll be right back.



* FADE *

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Well well well well well well well.”


Spike Jenkins looks up and sees a trio of figures coming down the corridor towards him, effectively blocking it off. The image would almost be that of three bullies in a high school confronting today’s victim… if it wasn’t for the fact that Spike Jenkins looks totally unafraid of them.


“Well?” he snorts. “Well what?”


“Spike, look at you,” Toxxic grins, flanked by Austin Sly and The Fabulous Jakey, “nice hoodie. What’s that, ‘Heartless’?”


“Must’ve been a typo,” Austin Sly puts in, “should say heatless.” The three Revolution Zero members chuckle, but Jenkins fails to rise to the bait and just stares at them. After a couple of seconds Toxxic speaks again.


“So, Spike, looks like you’re coming back from Flesher’s office,” the Englishman remarks, peering over Jenkins’ shoulder back down the hallway, “let me guess, still on about that title shot?” He contorts his face into a parody of imbecilic pleading. “Oh pweese Mister Fwesher, pweese give me a World Title shot, I’ll be soooo good!”


“No no, Toxx, you’ve got it all wrong,” Jakey says, nudging his Revolution Zero colleague in the ribs, “this is Spike Jenkins! He’s angry! He’s mean!”


“He’s angry and mean,” Austin Sly adds.


Jakey grimaces, showing his teeth and adopting the Hulk Hogan gorilla position in a way that would look stupid on anyone, let alone a 160lber in a lime green jacket. “GRRR! Flesher! Give me a title shot NOW! Or I’ll get MORE angry and MORE aggressive, and hit my DEVASTATING running dropkick on MORE people who haven’t won a match in months!”


“Devastating,” Sly agrees.


“Did you guys have a point?” Spike asks. “Or were you just going to stand around making fools of yourselves?” He fixes his former leader with a stare. “Clark’s scared of me, Toxx. I can see it in his eyes.”


“Spike, Clark could be scared of bloody emus for all we know,” the Straight-Edge Sensation says in exasperation, “that doesn’t mean one of them should get a title shot!”


“Oh, and no doubt you’ve got a better idea for who should get one?” Spike says, folding his arms.


“Funny you should say that,” Toxxic grins, gesturing to either side of him, “cos y’see, I appear to be a four-time World Champion. A four-time World Champion who holds the record for the longest World Title reign in history. Seems to me I’d have a good stake in it, wouldn’t you say?”


“Please,” Jenkins snorts.


“Oh, but let’s not forget Austin Sly,” Toxxic adds, clapping the bigger man next to him on the shoulder, “no-one’s pinned him or tapped him since he’s joined Revolution Zero, you do realise that, right? And he’s beaten Kibagami, which is something you failed to do…”


Spike makes ‘get on with it’ motions while rolling his eyes and silently cursing RyanAir for delaying his flight and causing his scheduled match against the River Dragon to be cancelled.


“And of course, The Fabulous Jakey,” Toxxic concludes, “the hottest new star in the SWF, already a two-time Cruiserweight Champion who beat Wildchild for the gold-”


“He pulled the tights!” Jenkins protests.


“Oh, and you’ve never pulled the tights?” Toxxic asks while Jakey looks aghast at the suggestion that his belt was won by anything other than pure talent, “look Spike, Jakey’s not only the SWF’s rising star, he’s not only the Cruiserweight Champion, but he’s also the guy who’s going to beat your arse in the middle of the ring tonight and show you what it’s like to go up against a real competitor.”


“You wouldn’t know a real competitor if one was standing right in front of you,” Spike tells the Englishman, “which is odd because, hey, one is standing right in front of you.” He walks up to his former leader and looks him in the eyes. “Toxx, you’d better forget about the past and start thinking about the future, because I am the future. Things have changed.” Jenkins shoves past him and heads off down the corridor without looking back.


“Yeah, things have changed alright,” Toxxic calls after him, “you forgot how to brush your teeth!” Jakey snickers and Toxxic turns back to face the way the trio were originally heading. “Come on guys, Senor Flesher awaits…”






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As the commercial for FULMINATUS! Catering, LLC, finishes up, we are reminded that “Weddings are our specialty!” and “Complimentary golden[,] delicious apples with each catering!”


The Vikingskipet Arena is echoing with the excited whoops of those in attendance as cameras focus on the ring. Sexton Hardcastle stands in one corner, and Funyon enters the ring holding the microphone.


“Well, King, here we are beginning the second round of this tournament,” Mak Francis says. “This will be an excellent contrast of styles here.”


“You’re right about that, Francis,” the Suicide King replies acidly. “We’ll have a wrestler and an extra from one of those Power Rangers shows.”


“Look, King, the ‘masked man’ is a classic of wrestling. I don’t see you making fun of Jushin Liger or Tiger Mask or Mil Mascaras.”


“That’s because they’re Japanese, Japanese, and Mexican, respectively,” King chides. “Blue Leaf is a Canadian.”


“What does that have to do with anything?” Mak asks.


“If you don’t know, I can’t explain it to you, Francis,” King answers. “It’s different.”


Mak shakes his head quickly and sharply, obviously trying to shake King’s gibbering out of his head. “But back to the match…we’re about to begin the introductions…”


Funyon smiles broadly as he says, “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the second round of the New Blood Championship Tournament!”




“This match will contested under Cruiserweight rules!” He blares over the cheers of the crowd as best he can. “Introducing first,” Funyon continues, “from The Great White North!”


As Funyon says this, Blue Leaf’s music keys up, echoing the latest Marvel movie’s opening score, in this case “The Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.”






The crowd continues to cheer as the Canadian Superhero walks down to the ring. He walks down to the ring, waiving to the crowd as he goes. The crowd pops for him as he does a cruiserweight jump into the ring from the apron, raising his hands in a babyface crowd salute.


“Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” King bemoans.


“King, I told you not to eat those fish last night…” Mak replies.


“That’s not it, Francis, and you know it. I hate fish. It’s this Blue Leaf…he’s just so…” King founders a bit.


“He’s earnest? Forthright? A basically good person?”


King gurgles unhappily as Mak smiles innocently.


“And his opponent,” Funyon begins, “from Greenville, South Carolina!”


The Smarktron shifts into a montage of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man and Michael Alexander systematically destroying various opponents and “Dread Rock” hits the speakers.




“He weighs in tonight at 221 pounds!” Funyon continues as best he can over the heated crowd. “He is the Mad Scientist of the Mat, MMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICHAEL AAAAAALLLEXXXXXXXAAAAAAAAANDERRRRRRRRRR!”




Alexander steps out onto the stage, looking out over the crowd with obvious disdain. As he turns to the ring, he stares at Blue Leaf with a vicious intensity. Alexander makes his way down to the ring without hurrying, taking time to yell insults at the crowd as he goes, and they respond in kind.


“It would figure that these frozen Swedes would side with their fellow frostbite victim!” King chokes out, sounding like he’s just now winning his fight with a throat-full of bile.


“We’re in Norway,” Mak corrects him.


“Then what the hell are all these Swedes doing here?” King grumbles, but then brightens up. “But now at least we’re getting to the actual wrestler in this tournament. I’m going to love seeing Alexander take this comic book geek out of title contention. There’s no place for that sort of ridiculous gimmick outfit in the SWF. This is a wrestling company, Francis.”


“First, these aren’t Swedes…well, maybe some of them are, but…oh, never mind.” Mak sighs. “Costumes are a staple of wrestling, King,” Mak lectures him. “From the classic masks of the luchadores to full body costumes of mana-.” King cuts him off with a growl, and Mak snickers.


Meanwhile, Michael Alexander ascends the ring steps and enters the ring. He looks over at Blue Leaf who is adjusting his domino mask. Alexander turns his back on Blue Leaf, the Evil Genius shaking his head as he adjusts his boots and stretches. Alexander then turns back toward Blue Leaf with an evil smirk.


Sexton Hardcastle looks at both men, assuring himself that they are ready to begin. He motions to ringside and the bells sounds!




The Evil Genius and the Canadian Superman start the match with a classic collar-and-elbow tie-up. Alexander shoots underneath Blue Leaf’s guard and takes him down with a fireman’s carry, keeping him grounded with a side headlock.


“A great start here, with Alexander playing to his strengths,” Mak says. “He’s tying up the quicker man effectively.”


“And he’s already got Blue Balls on the mat.” King smiles.


The Mad Scientist takes this opportunity to rudely slap the top of Blue Leaf’s head, while berating him and grinding on the headlock.


“Does he have to disrespect every opponent like this?” Mak complains.


“So far, yes,” King replies smugly. “For Chrissakes, Francis, the man is wearing a bloody domino mask! That doesn’t scream respect to me. This is a wrestling match, not a masquerade ball!”


The Canadian Superman surprises the Evil Genius by whipping up his legs for a leg scissors counter, forcing Alexander to release the hold.


“Nice reversal from Blue Leaf!” Mak exclaims. “He may not be a mat technician, but he’s not letting Alexander get away with anything either.”


“Yes, Francis, it’s amazing! He managed to escape the most basic hold in the wrestling! Next he’ll thrill us all with a hammerlock reversal!” King snipes sarcastically.


Annoyed, the Mad Scientist rolls around, positions himself to flip over and out of the headscissors, but he holds onto the legs for a pin! Hardcastle goes for the count!


“Alexander with a cradle roll out of the headscissors!” Mak shouts.


“Now that’s real wrestling, Francis!” King yelps gleefully.




It never gets past that as Blue Leaf grabs the Evil Genius around the waist and bridges up and out of the predicament.


“Blue Leaf bridges out beautifully!” Mak exclaims. “You’ve got to admit he’s upholding his end of this match.”


“If you mean he’s avoided getting pinned within the first few minutes of the match, then yes,” King grumbles.


His success is short-lived as Alexader clasps Blue Leaf’s left arm and rolls himself to the right, pulling Blue Leaf over and out of the bridge and bringing him back down to the mat.


“See, Francis! There’s nothing Blue Leaf can do that Alexander can’t undo!”


“No one is questioning Alexander’s mat technique, King. I’m just pointing out that Blue Leaf is doing very well in this exchange, considering the two men’s respective areas of expertise.”


Not to be outdone, the Canadian Superman, making use of his speed, tries to scramble up and away.


“As I said, King,” Mak remarks with satisfaction, “Blue Leaf is holding his own here.”


King is unimpressed. “Yeah, he’s fast. Just like every other cruiserweight. Yay.”


The Evil Genius is not willing to break just yet, however, and he grabs the left ankle of Blue Leaf as the latter is scrambling out of the catch-as-catch-can. It appears he is about to go for an inverted Dragon Screw, but just as Alexander seems set for it, Blue Leaf leaps and rolls forward, delivering a one-legged mule kick which Alexander takes in the chest. The Evil Genius staggers backward, holding his chest as he regains his breath. He does not look happy. Blue Leaf rolls back up to his feet opposite Alexander, and the Canadian Superman also appears displeased with the exchange. He angrily rubs the top of his head where Alexander slapped him.


“That was good opening session of feeling out. It doesn’t look like either man got what they wanted out of it,” Mak observes thoughtfully.


“Blue Leaf just got a little lucky with that kick. Otherwise Alexander would have had him,” King says sulkily.


After another glare-fest, the two men circle each other, and it looks as if they will begin with another collar-and-elbow. Alexander has other ideas, as he snaps a quick knee into the midsection of Blue Leaf. Blue Leaf doubles over, gasping. Alexander then spins around, dropping to one knee to hit with a vicious spinning back elbow to the side of the Canadian’s head. Blue Leaf careens to backwards, but he does manage to stop his downward spiral at merely his knees.




“Alexander takes the shortcut.” Mak sighs.


“Fastest way between two points is a straight line, Francis, however you want to draw it.”


The Evil Genius isn’t done with the Canadian Superman yet. He approaches Blue Leaf as the latter is getting to his feet, and Alexander goes for a kick to the head. Much to Alexander’s surprise, Blue Leaf catches the kick and stands up, holding on to the Mad Scientist’s foot in the process.




“Blue Leaf catches the kick!” Mak exclaims. “Alexander is in trouble!”


“No, Francis, Blue Leaf’s just setting himself up to get a nice kick to the head.”


Alexander looks like he might be thinking of just that, but Blue Leaf beats him to the punch with a rolling wheel kick to the head over Alexander’s outstretched leg.




Alexander hits the mat with a solid thud. Blue Leaf rolls quickly back to his feet, rubbing the side of his head a little from Alexander’s earlier shot.


King groans into the mike, covering his head in his hands.


“Nice rolling wheel kick by Blue Leaf!” Mak looks over at King. “King, we are supposed to watch the match, you know.”


“Shut up, Francis.”


The Mad Scientist is slower getting to his feet, and Blue Leaf meets him with a crunching knee to the head. Alexander staggers backwards into the ropes, leaning on them for support. The Canadian Superman follows up with a series of crisp forearms and finishes with a European uppercut that rocks Alexander.


“Now the Canadian is playing to his strengths,” Mak notes. “He’s using his speed and striking ability to take control of the match here.”


“Come on, Alexander!” King yells supportively. “Don’t let this walking comic book convention do this to you!”


Blue Leaf then attempts to whip the Evil Genius into the ropes, but Alexander reverses, sending Blue Leaf into the ropes.


“Yes!” King gloats. “Alexander’s back in control!”


Alexander looks like he’s preparing to catch Blue Leaf with a sidewalk slam, but Blue Leaf flips Alexander over with a perfect flying headscissors!




“Control of what?” Mak asks innocently.


King mutters. “Sneaky Canadians…”


The Evil Genius rolls out of the ring, using the momentum from the headscissors to assist him. As Alexander takes a breather, Hardcastle begins to count.






“Alexander is taking the smart way out here, Francis,” King remarks. “Break the momentum, and put a stop to those sneaky Canadian tricks.”


“’Sneaky Canadian tricks,’ King? It was a flying headscissors! A perfectly legitimate maneuver!”


“Canadians are sneakiest when they’re obvious, Francis.”


Alexander is distracted for a moment as he berates a ringside fan who is holding up a Blue Canada flag, obviously supporting Blue Leaf.


“More of those Swedes causing trouble. This could be a Canadian plot, bringing in Swedes for outside support.” King eyes the other ringside fans suspiciously.


“King, that’s insane! Why would Swedes support Canada? And why not just use Norwegians?”


“That’s a good question, Francis. Maybe you should ask Blue Balls about his Swedish buddies.”




The Canadian Superman uses the opportunity to go for his suicide plancha!


“The Maple Leap!” shouts Mak.


The Evil Genius notices Blue Leaf beginning the maneuver, and he is able to dodge the plummeting Canadian Superman, who collides brutally with the floor and the ringside railing!




“Hah!” King laughs evilly. “I bet he’ll call that the Maple ‘Bleep' after that. Alexander was just waiting for him. Even those Swedes couldn’t help Blue Balls there.”


“That certainly did some serious damage, King. Blue Leaf is going to have an uphill battle recovering from that.” Mak bemoans.


Hardcastle begins the count anew:






Alexander walks over to Blue Leaf, mocking the Canadian by adopting a sarcastically comic-book pose of Superman in flight.




“Alexander is falling into his old habits, King. He can’t afford to waste time in a tournament match like this.”


“Sure he can, Francis. Blue Boy look like he’s going anywhere right now?”






The Mad Scientist stomps viciously at Blue Leaf’s head, shoulders, and midsection, which seem to have taken the brunt of his impact with the rail. The Canadian Superman groans in pain.


“Alexander now working on Blue Lead in classic fashion,” Mak states, shaking his head. “We’ve seen this kind of thing from him before, and it’s not going to be pretty.”


King rubs his hands together in anticipation. “Francis, art isn’t always pretty. But it does send a message. In this case, that message is pain.”




Alexander then lifts Blue Leaf up, twisting his right arm into a hammerlock position. With a wicked grin, he then twirls the Canadian Superman around and whips him shoulder-first into the guard rail. Blue Leaf howls in pain.




“That arm and shoulder are obviously in the crosshairs now.” Mak says sadly. “I just hope we don’t see any permanent harm done in the course of this.”


“No permanent harm, Francis. Getting rid of Blue Balls would be a bonus, not a harm.”










The Mad Scientist delivers several sharp kicks to the back and right shoulder of Blue Leaf as he leans against the guardrail.










Berating the ringside fans once again, Alexander rolls Blue Leaf under the ropes, but holds on to the Canadian Superman’s right arm and delivers a kick to Blue Leaf’s injured shoulder. The Canadian yelps in pain and rolls back into the center of the ring, cradling his right arm. The Evil Genius gloats over his work, as he climbs up onto the apron.


“Alexander can’t help but waste time gloating, and it’s going to get him into trouble one of these days.” Mak warns.


“He’s just putting on a show, Francis,” King replies contentedly. “Otherwise we’d just be another boring amateur wrestling match…which Blue Boy would have lost in the first minute and a half. Then where would we be?”












Blue Leaf is slowly making his way to his feet, nursing his arm and shoulder. The Canadian Superman turns just in time catch a beautiful springboard calf kick to the head from Alexander as he leaps back into the ring!




King chuckles. “And Alexander hits with his own little bit of cruiserweight hang time. He’s beating Blue Leaf at his own game!”


“He hit with one move by blindsiding Blue Leaf, King. That’s hardly ‘beating him at his own game.’” Mak corrects him. “It was an excellent move though.”


Blue Leaf collapses to the mat as Alexander rolls back up to his feet. Alexander grins evilly as he leaps into the air and hits with a knee drop to the chest of Blue Leaf.


“A vicious knee drop to Blue Leaf!” King happily points out.


“He may have knocked the wind out of the Canadian with that one, and it looks like he’s going to try and capitalize on that!”


The Mad Scientist goes for a lateral press, contemptuously refusing to hook a leg or even to apply any sort of half-nelson or cradle.








“He wasted a chance there, King. He didn’t even bother to hook a leg or anything.”


“That wasn’t a serious pin, Francis, and you know it. Even Blue Leaf isn’t going down to a knee drop. It was just to show Major Maple Leaf that it’s only matter of time.”


The Evil Genius stalks the rising Blue Leaf, catching him as he rises in a full nelson lock. The Canadian Superman grabs Alexander’s head and drops down before the Mad Scientist has properly braced himself for his patented Dragon Suplex, snapping Alexander into a quick jawbreaker!




“Nice reversal by Blue Leaf!” Mak adds hopefully, “Now if he can just use the time it buys him.”


“And you said Canadians weren’t sneaky, Francis,” King grumbles.


“I never said…I’m not going to get into this with you.”


The Evil Genius staggers backward, collapsing onto the ropes as he rubs his jaw. Blue Leaf pulls himself upright with his uninjured left arm as he attempts to shake the soreness out of his right. The Evil Genius doesn’t allow him time to recover, leveling Blue Leaf with a flying forearm smash.




“Alexander again shuts down Blue Balls!” King chortles.


“Maybe now he’ll actually start taking things seriously and try to follow up…”


Alexander mocks the Canadian Superman again, this time by making his hands into a faux mask while wearing a ludicrously righteous expression reminiscent of Dudley Do-Right.


“…or not,” Mak finishes sadly.


King bursts out laughing. “I’m getting a stitch in my side!” He gasps.


Blue Leaf slowly rises, haltingly pulling himself up by using the ropes.








The crowd’s chanting inspires new malevolence in the Mad Scientist, as he turns again to Blue Leaf. Alexander screams at Blue Leaf, and slaps the Canadian Superman sharply across the face. This lights a fire under Blue Leaf. He spins with the slap, turning his body around to hit a solid kick to the gut of Alexander, follows that up with a kick to the inside of Alexander’s left leg, a straight kick to the Evil Genius’ ribs, and spins again for thunderous leaping roundhouse kick right to the Alexander’s head! Alexander careens to the mat, lying limply on his back.








“Blue Leaf hits with that kick combination he calls ‘For Great Justice!’”


“You’re supposed to be impartial here, Francis,” King complains. “Between you and those Swedes Blue Balls planted in the audience…”


Rallying himself along with the crowd, Blue Leaf salutes the crowd and runs to the far ropes, springboarding off into a moonsault onto the prone form of Alexander!


“Blue Leaf’s going for the pin, King!”


King groans in dismay.








King exhales in relief. Blue Leaf lifts the Evil Genius back to his feet, firing a series of stiff forearms into the head of Alexander.


“Some quick forearms by Blue Leaf,” Mak says matter-of-factly. “Alexander allowed him time to recover with all that posturing.”


“Alexander’s got to remember how sneaky this Canadian is,” King grunts.




Blue Leaf reaches across his staggered opponent’s chest, setting up for an Uranage. However, his injured arm seems to hamper his ability to execute to move quickly enough as the Evil Genius fires an elbow to Blue Leaf’s head. The Canadian Superman loses his hold, and Alexander grabs the injured right arm, twisting it around into a hammerlock position. As Blue Leaf gasps in pain, the Mad Scientist snakes his own arm around Blue Leaf’s head and neck in a reverse chancery position.


“The Dragon Wing! He’s returning to that arm and shoulder again, King!”


The Evil Genius smiles cruelly as he snaps himself and his opponent backwards, flinging Blue Leaf down on top of his injured arm and simultaneously bouncing the back of his head off the mat.


“Even all that flippy, kicky hooplah didn’t take Alexander out, Mak,” King observes with satisfaction. “Now we just get to watch Blue Balls circle the bowl before Alexander flushes him out of this tournament.”


Alexander gets to his feet, obviously fuming about those shots to his jaw. The Mad Scientist stomps away at the Canadian Superman’s right arm and shoulder. Grunts of pain escape from Blue Leaf with each stomp.


“Keep it up, Alexander!” King cheers.


“What was that about impartiality, King?”


“What? I’m being perfectly impartial. I hate Blue Leaf and those Swedes equally.”


Alexander lifts Blue Leaf up again, grabbing the injured right arm of Blue Leaf and twisting it into a standing arm wrench. Alexander then tugs Blue Leaf toward him, kneeing him in the midsection, doubling the Canadian Superman over. The Mad Scientist then executes a cracking knee lift to his opponent’s easily accessible skull. The knee lift contact sends Blue Leaf into the ropes, and he hangs limply on them as Alexander approaches, gloating.


“Alexander finally seems like he’s got his focus back,” Mak observes.


“And that’s bad news for Blue Boy. If I was him, I guess I’d want to hide my face too.”


“King, he’s only wearing a domino mask.”


The Evil Genius snatches Blue Leaf’s right arm roughly and uses it to whip him into the ropes, going for a back drop. Blue Leaf flips over him in perfect cruiserweight style.




Mak’s voice crescendos. “Blue Leaf rolls over the back drop attempt! This could spell trouble for Alexander!”


The crowd pop tells Alexander that something went wrong, and as he turns he sees Blue Leaf hopping forward and going for his patented Harper Kick! Now the crowd howls in disapproval as the Evil Genius, having scouted this particular move before, sidesteps and catches Blue Leaf’s foot.




“Yep,” King gloats. “He had terrible trouble; he almost didn’t catch that superkick.”


Before the Canadian Superman can counter, the Mad Scientist tugs him toward the ropes by his foot, and leaps over the top rope, pulling Blue Leaf’s leg with him. Blue Leaf’s leg snaps the top rope down sharply, and he bounces backwards with the rope’s rebound, collapsing onto the mat.




“Good lord, King! That may have hyperextended that knee!”


King cackles at Mak’s dismay.


Blue Leaf has rolled onto his side, holding his knee and groaning. Alexander rolls back into the ring, taking some time to mock both his opponent and the crowd by climbing the turnbuckle and surveying those in attendance in a parody of the common superhero.


King’s eyes are watering from laughter. “Can’t take this,” he gasps. “He should do standup!”


“All he’s doing is disrespecting his opponent and this tournament,” Mak admonishes. “And he continues to let Blue Leaf recover.”


“Recover from what?” King is slowly recovering his composure. “You just said Blue Leaf’s knee was probably hyperextended…not like you can recover from that in a few minutes.”


“If that’s what really happened, King,” Mak warns.


Alexander hops down from the turnbuckle and strides towards his opponent, kicking Blue Leaf in the small of the back, rolling the Canadian Superman onto his stomach. Alexander then grasps Blue Leaf’s injured leg, stepping over it to place it into position for the Gordian Knot.


“He’s about to put him away with the Gordian Knot!” King yells gleefully.


Unfortunately for Alexander, Blue Leaf seems to have scouted him as well, and wraps his own legs around the Mad Scientist’s, clipping him and pitching him forward as Blue Leaf himself rolls through, catching the Evil Genius in a modified Victory Roll cradle!




“Was that ‘Knot’ or not?” Mak snickers at the pun.












“Alexander almost got taken out of this tournament, King!”


“Don’t even joke about that, Francis!”


Blue Leaf kips back up and yells to the crowd, which pops uproariously!




“And Blue Leaf might have been playing a little possum there,” Mak says. “And Alexander’s arrogance let him fall for it.”


Alexander, having struggled back to his feet, goes for a quick back elbow to break this new momentum, but Blue Leaf dodges it easily, ducking underneath the strike. The Canadian Superman then grabs the Evil Genius from behind, and snaps him back to the mat with a Russian leg sweep!


“Blue Leaf hits with the Russian leg sweep, and the momentum has shifted!” Mak looks toward King. “Alexander may have lost his chance.”


“Oh, come on, Francis,” King chides. “You can’t seriously think this will last…”


The Mad Scientist struggles back to his feet, then realizes that he has lost track of his opponent. Not for long, though, as the Canadian Superman hits him solidly in the back with a flipping dropkick, and in that amazingly acrobatic way that only cruiserweights can, lands on his feet! The crowd roars as Alexander pitches forward from the force of the kick, smashing chest first into the nearby turnbuckle!




“It doesn’t have to last very long at this rate!” Mak informs King sharply.


“This is not happening!” King ignores Mak pointedly, with fingers in his ears.


Alexander staggers backwards out of the turnbuckle, and Blue Leaf forces himself into a leap over Alexander that places him a perfect position for his Niagara Fall maneuver!


“Blue Leaf’s got him set up for the Niagara Fall!”


King is now averting his eyes as well as plugging his ears. “LALALALALALALA!”


The Evil Genius notices this situation as well, and, as Blue Leaf tries to set his weight to get the momentum for the sunset flip powerbomb, Alexander pitches himself forward, spins, and lifts Blue Leaf back up and drops him into terrifically vicious Snake Eyes onto the top turnbuckle!




“Alexander was able to sneak out of the Niagara Fall, and Blue Leaf is stunned!” Mak shouts over the jeering crowd.


King glances up. “Wha-?”


The Canadian Superman amazingly remains upright at he careens backwards following his head’s intersection with the turnbuckle. Meanwhile, Alexander has kept his feet and positioned himself to catch Blue Leaf in a back suplex position as the Canadian Superman staggers backward. The Evil Genius hoists the Canadian Superman up and hits him with his horribly apropos variation of the Blue Thunder Bomb!


“Alexander with the Event Horizon!”


“YES!” King screams in exultation, leaping up and knocking over his seat.


The crowd gasps as Alexander holds the Canadian Superman in the pinning position!












“Alexander has advanced!” King gloats.


“But Blue Leaf put up a valiant effort; it was as close a shave as Alexander has had yet, and it could easily have gone the other way,” Mak points out.


Funyon enters the ring and lifts the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner of the match, and FINALIST in the New Blood Title Tournament…he is the Mad Scientist of the Mat, MMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAELL AAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLEXXXXXAAAAAAAAAANDER!”




The crowd jeers as Referee Sexton Hardcastle lifts the hand of Alexander in victory. Blue Leaf forces himself to his feet and walks over to Alexander. The two stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Blue Leaf offers his hand. There is another uncomfortable pause as Alexander looks at the hand then back to Blue Leaf’s face. The Mad Scientist turns away and rolls out of the ring.


“Bad sportsmanship is to be expected from Alexander at this point, I suppose,” laments Mak.


“I think that was very good sportsmanship, Mak. I mean, he won. That’s the best sportsmanship there is.”


As Alexander walks to the back, he turns back to shake his head at Blue Leaf standing in the ring and continues to the back. The cruel smirk never leaves Alexander’s face as we…



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SWF Storm returns live from Vikingskipet Arena in Hamar, Norway! The Norwegian fans are ecstatic as the SWF World Tour 2007 continues!


“Welcome back to SWF Storm!” cries Mak Francis. “We are live from Hamar, Norway! We are at a sold out attendance and it has been an exciting night by far, right King?”


“I guess you could say that,” says The Suicide King as he barely pays attention.


“Come on, King! You’re in Norway! Who wouldn’t want to be in Norway?” asks Francis.




Unable to come up with an answer, Francis turns his attention to the ring as Funyon begins his introduction.


“The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit!” booms Funyon. “First, making his way to the ring!”


Fast techno-themed music plays, with red and pink lights decorating the arena. Jakey jumps out from behind the curtain, wearing a red trench coat over his outfit. He slowly begins to walk down the ramp; often giving dirty looks to catcalling fans.


“Making his way to the ring. Hailing from Minneapolis, Minnesota! Weighing in at One Hundred and Sixty pounds. HE IS THE REIGNING AND DEFENDING SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!! HE IS THE FABULOUSSSSS JAKEYYYYY!!!!”


Jakey walks up the steps and enters the ring through the ropes, then stands in the center and undoes trench coat, then removes it with arms spread out. Jakey then flings the coat over his shoulder before parking it in the corner, then stands in the center of the ring and raises both arms.


“A member of Revolution Zero and the man who defeated Wildchild for the Cruiserweight Championship. Honestly, Francis, I have not seen one person make such an impact in such a short amount of time…except for Toxxic!”


“I can’t help but agree with you, King,” says Francis. “But he is about to go one-on-one with the man who has his sights on the SWF World Heavyweight Championship and is undefeated since returning to the SWF…‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins!”




The lights begin to flicker around the arena as the violent guitar riffs and the blaring trumpets of Emmure’s “When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong” blast through the PA system.





The horrifying shriek of a laugh from lead singer Frank Palmieri sends a shiver down the spines of everyone in attendance.


I hope this is a passing phase.

There is no future where I stand,

Here with you!



The lights on the stage begin to flicker on and off. The audience begins to stomp their feet and clap their hands as they await The New Straight Edge Sensation. A small, but audible “Spike…Spike…Spike” chant breaks out inside the arena.


This Is…






…The End!



With that, the crowd goes into frenzy as “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins steps out from behind the curtain. Now sporting short hair and a Five O’clock shadow and wearing an official SWF Spike Jenkins (SWFShopZone.com) black “Heartless” zip-up sweatshirt, Jenkins stomps down the ramp towards the ring.


“Making his way to the ring. Hailing from Long Island, New York! Weighing in at Two Hundred and Five pounds. HE IS ‘HOLLYWOOD’ SPIIIIIIIIIKE JEEEEEEEEENKINNNNSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!”


Jenkins stomps down the ramp, unzipping the sweatshirt and tossing it to the side. Climbing up the steel steps, he slowly climbs onto the ring apron. Carefully watching his opponent, he steps into the ring.


“Spike Jenkins has been so focused since his return on Alan Clark and the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. Earlier tonight, he was told that the booking committee just doesn’t think he is ready for a title shot yet and now he finds himself one-on-one with the SWF Cruiserweight Champion!”


“Not to mention his little run in with Revolution Zero.”


“That is a whole new bag of worms, King.”


Both men stand in opposite corners, as Referee Ordonez signals for the bell.


*Ding Ding Ding*


Both men walk out of their respected corners and meet each other, face-to-face, in the center of the ring. Once there, Spike just stares coldly at the youngest member of the newly reformer Revolution Zero. Opposite of him, stands the youngster, who begins to talk trash to the former Cruiserweight Champion. Spike doesn’t respond, but is slightly caught off guard as Jakey fires off a forearm, connecting with the side of Jenkins face. Taken aback, Jenkins stumbles back as Jakey fires off two more forearms to the face. Pushing Jenkins back into the ropes, he grabs him by the wrist and Irish whips him across the ring. Spike hits the opposite ropes, bounces back and charges towards Jakey, whom drops down onto his stomach. Jenkins hops over the Cruiserweight Champion, who quickly jumps back up to his feet. Spike hits the ropes once more and bounces off them. With a full head of steam, Jenkins charges straight into Jakey, knocking the smaller opponent right down to the mat with a shoulder block!


“Spike Jenkins has always been considered a small wrestler, hell, he’s a former multi-time Cruiserweight Champion!” begins Francis. “But when he is in the ring with someone smaller than he is, he really takes his liberties. I think he’s about to knock some respect into The Fabulous Jakey.”


“Respect? He’s probably going to try to knock some fear into the young kid.”


Spike stands above his fallen opponent, looking down at the youngster. Jakey grabs his shoulder as he rolls away towards the ropes. Using the ropes to climb up to his feet, he looks over at the New Straight Edge Sensation.


“Up until tonight, The Fabulous Jakey hasn’t really been in the ring with someone of this level. He has scored victories over Wildchild and has been in the ring with Landon Maddix, but is he ready for someone who over the past couple of weeks have proven to be as dangerous as Spike Jenkins?”


“Remember what he did to Rikard Fleihr and Zyon, Mak? He dismantled both of them.”


Jakey stomps over towards Jenkins…and slaps the Hollywood Superstar right across the face! Stunned, Spike stands there holding his face while Jakey begins screaming at him.


“Oh, kid…big mistake,” moans Mak Francis.


Without a moment of hesitation, Spike pivots his hips and shoots his right leg out…





…Kicking Jakey directly in the chest, knocking the Cruiserweight Champion to the mat with a loud thud!


“Oh!” cries The Suicide King.


“Well…that’s why you don’t smack Spike Jenkins.”


Jakey shoots up into a sitting position, holding his chest as he grimaces in pain. Jenkins wastes no time as he grabs Jakey and pulls him up to his feet. Pushing him back into the corner, he places his arms behind the top rope, leaving Jakey’s chest exposed. And with that…









…Spike unloads on the bare chest of Jakey with knife-edged chop after knife-edge chop after knife-edge chop! Jakey lets out a shriek as his chest is turned into ground beef and turns bright red. Jenkins grabs Jakey by the back of the head, pulling him out of the corner; he dashes towards the ropes and launches Jakey over the top rope, sending the Cruiserweight Champion straight to the floor!


“Jakey gets sent over the top rope and crashes to the floor!” shouts Francis.


“Can he do that, Mak?” asks the Suicide King.


“This isn’t a title match, King. If the Cruiserweight Title was on the line, Spike Jenkins would have been disqualified.”


Jenkins stomps around the ring with a grin on his face, as the Norwegian crowd around him cheers. He climbs through the ropes and out to the ring floor, walking around towards where Jakey had landed. The Fabulous One pulls himself up against the guardrail, helping himself up to his feet. As Jenkins walks around towards him, Jakey jumps forward and catches his opponent off guard with a forearm to the face! Jenkins shrugs it off as he unleashes another knife-edged chop to the chest! Grabbing Jakey by the back of the head, Spike turns back towards the ring and rolls his opponent underneath the bottom rope.


“Spike bringing Jakey back into the ring before the referee can even get to a five count.”


Spike follows in suit, rolling underneath the bottom rope into the ring. As he slides in, Jakey jumps to his feet and stomps at the back of the head of Jenkins. Jakey grabs Spike and pulls him up to his feet, slamming another forearm into the side of his skull. Jakey follows up with two more forearms, sending Jenkins rearing back into the ropes. Grabbing him by the wrist, Jakey Irish whips Spike…that Spike reverses and sends The Fabulous One into the ropes. Jakey bounces off of them and charges towards Jenkins, who catches him around the waist and lifts him into the air with a tilt-a-whirl that Jakey is able to spin himself down onto his feet and dropping to the mat, bringing Jenkins over by the wrist with an arm drag!


“Tilt-a-whirl arm drag by the Cruiserweight Champion!”


Jenkins rolls forward out of the arm drag. Quickly climbing up to his feet, he turns back towards Jakey who is now standing as well. Jakey watches as Spike charges at him, quickly dropping down to the mat and tripping his opponent down with a drop toe hold. Jenkins hits the mat face first, stunning the Hollywood Superstar for a moment. Jakey quickly jumps to his feet and charges into the ropes facing Spike. Bouncing off them, he speeds towards the downed Jenkins, who is trying to get to his feet. Jakey dives down, slamming both of his boots straight into the face of Spike Jenkins!


“Basement dropkick by The Fabulous Jakey!” shouts Francis.


Spike holds his face in pain, as Jakey rolls him over onto his back. Quickly hooking the leg, Jakey goes for the cover!














TH—NO! Spike Jenkins kicks out!


“The Fabulous Jakey almost picking up the win right there, King!”


“Jakey showing why he is the Cruiserweight Champion as he uses his speed to take the hard-hitting Spike Jenkins to the ground.”


Jakey sits up and shouts at Referee Ordonez about a three count. Wrapping his hands around the neck of his opponent, The Fabulous Jakey begins to choke the life out of Spike Jenkins!


“Oh come on, that is uncalled for!” cries Francis.


“I disagree,” The Suicide King voices his opinion. “I think this is exactly what The Fabulous Jakey needs to do to beat Spike Jenkins.”


Jenkins flails his arms around, trying to get away from Jakey’s grip. Referee Ordonez shouts at Jakey to break the hold, but the Revolution Zero member refuses.















FIV—Jakey releases the choke!


“All I’m saying, King, is that Jakey is talented enough to not need to stoop to such levels to beat Spike Jenkins.”


“All I’m saying, Mak, is that Jakey is proving to me that he is willing to do whatever it takes to get the win.”


Jakey climbs up to his feet, grabs Jenkins by the back of the head and pulls him up to his feet. Jakey fires off a forearm, connecting with the side of Spike’s face. Spike stumbles a bit, but woozily responds with a knife-edged chop! And another! And another! Jenkins takes a step back and lets out a kick straight into the chest of Jakey, sending the Cruiserweight Champion stumbling back into the ropes. Holding his chest, Jakey ricochets off of the ropes and back towards Jenkins…and quickly grabs Spike by the face and rakes him across the eyes!


“Oh, come on!” shouts Francis.


Spike stumbles away, holding his face in agony. Stumbling back into the middle of the ring, Jenkins leaves himself wide open as Jakey charges into the ropes. Bouncing off them, he comes flying back towards Spike, leaps into the air and connects with both of his boots into the chest of his opponent, sending him to the mat with a front dropkick!


“Ha! Jakey is stealing one of Spike’s little,” Suicide King continues in a mocking tone, “Grr, I’m angry and I kick people hard, wah wah; moves.”


Jakey quickly throws himself on top of Spike, hooking the leg for the pin.












THR—NO! Jenkins kicks out!


“Jenkins kicking out of that dropkick after Jakey took advantage with the eye rake!”


Jakey sits up and shouts over at Referee Ordonez once again. Climbing up to his feet, he grabs Spike by his hair and drags him over into the corner. Sitting his opponent up against the turnbuckle pads in the corner, Jakey places his boot right across the windpipe of Jenkins, once again trying to choke the air out of him. Referee Ordonez gets in the rookie’s face about the choke and begins to count him out once again.














FIV—Jakey releases the choke!


“Again, using choke holds to keep Jenkins down!”


“Stop crying, Mak. You might as well as just roll yourself in there and save your boyfriend. Jakey has been dominating Jenkins since the early portions of this match.”


Jakey grabs Spike by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. Dragging him out of the corner, he pulls the New Straight Edge Sensation into a front face lock. Looking around at the audience, he happily grins as he calls for the finish.


“Jakey is going for the Jumping Jakey Flash! The tornado DDT he uses that put away Fulminatus away two weeks ago on Storm!”


“If he hits this, it is all over!”


Jakey charges into the corner, leaps up onto the middle rope and springboards off of it. Spinning backwards, Jakey looks to drive Spike head first into the mat with the tornado DDT…but Spike flings Jakey off of him! Jakey lands on his feet in the center of the ring, slightly dazed.


“Jenkins blocked the Jumping Jakey Flash!” cries Francis.


Jakey looks up at his opponent, who now charges at him. Jenkins lifts his boot up, looking to connect with a Yakuza Kick…but Jakey ducks underneath. Jakey charges into the corner, but quickly turns around and goes after Jenkins. Spike watches the Cruiserweight Champion run towards him and quickly gets a boot up, connecting with the gut of The Fabulous One. With his opponent bent over, Jenkins pulls him into a standing head scissors. Wrapping his arms around the waist of Jakey, Spike lifts the youngster up into the air for a powerbomb…that Jakey quickly fights out of! Using his speed, Jakey rolls down Spike’s back, looking for a sunset flip!


“Jakey reversing out of the powerbomb!”


“He could have him here, King!”


Jakey lands on the mat and pulls Spike over with the sunset flip! Ordonez drops to the mat for the pin fall!






TW—Spike rolls out of it! Rolling backwards over onto his feet, Jenkins quickly aims a kick straight at Jakey’s chest…but Jakey drops onto his back as Spike sweeps right over him and spins around…but without hesitation, Jenkins leaps straight up into the air…





…And drives both of his boots directly into the chest of The Fabulous Jakey!


“Double stomp!” shouts Francis.


Jenkins stumbles off of Jakey as the youngster grabs his chest in agony and gasps for air. Pushing his head down to the mat and placing his forearm over his face, Spike covers Jakey for the first time this match!











THRE—NO! Jakey gets a shoulder up!


“Jakey just barely getting a shoulder up there!”


“Spike Jenkins tried to crush Jakey’s chest! That should be illegal!”


“But Jakey has used multiple chokes…BLATENT chokes in front of the referee only a few minutes ago!”


“Yeah, but he didn’t JUMP on Spike to choke him!”


Spike sits up to his knees and begins to climb to his feet. Jakey rolls over onto his stomach, coughing as he tries to get air back into his system. Slowly rising to his feet, he turns towards his already standing opponent. Unable to protect himself at the moment, Spike quickly moves in on Jakey. The Hollywood Superstar connects with a stiff left slap across the face, followed by a stiff right slap across the face. Quickly spinning around, Spike connects with a back fist to the side of Jakey’s head, knocking the Cruiserweight Champion loopy.


“Spinning back fist by Jenkins! Jakey looks to be out on his feet right now!”


With the champion staggering back and forth, Spike quickly pulls him inward and up onto his shoulders in a Death Valley Driver position! With Jakey on his shoulders, Jenkins throws him up into the air and falls backwards down to the mat, placing his knees in the exact position where Jakey’s torso happens to land as he comes crashing down on top of the New Straight Edge Sensation!


“Gut buster out of the DVD position! If that double stomp earlier didn’t knock all the wind out of Jakey, this certainly did!”


The expression of pain on Jakey’s face tells the whole story, as he rolls around on the mat clutching his abdomen. Spike quickly rolls over on top of him, looking for the pin fall!















THRE—NO! Jakey kicks out! Spike sits up, visibly distressed over the kick out.


“Look at Jenkins, Mak. He can’t believe that Jakey kicked out of that,” says the Suicide King. “That is exactly why The Fabulous Jakey is a member of Revolution Zero and the current SWF Cruiserweight Champion!”


“He may be a member of Revolution Zero, but Spike Jenkins co-founded Revolution Zero with Toxxic! I’m not sure Spike Jenkins is all too thrilled with Toxxic bringing the group back.”


“Let’s see if he can actually put Jakey down for the three count before he declares war on Revolution Zero…or SWF World Champion, Alan Clark for that matter.”


Climbing up to his feet, Jenkins grabs Jakey by the back of the neck and pulls him up to a standing position. Grabbing him by the wrist, he Irish whips Jakey across the ring into the corner. Spike charges into the corner, ready to strike Jakey…who gets both of his boots up, connecting with the jaw of Jenkins! Spike stumbles back, leaving Jakey a moment to catch his breath. With Jenkins momentarily stunned, Jakey turns his back to his opponent and quickly scales the ropes. Once on the top rope, he wastes not even a second as he back flips off…and lands on top of the standing Jenkins, taking both of them down to the mat!


“Moonsault press by the Cruiserweight Champion!”


Jakey grabs one of Jenkins’ legs and pulls it over as he goes for the quick cover!




















“Kick out by the Hollywood Superstar!” cries Francis. “These two men are really giving it everything they got in this high-paced, fact-action match!”


Jakey rolls off of Spike and climbs up to his feet. Still holding his ribs, he watches as his opponent climbs up to his feet as well. Slightly dazed and trying to figure out what just hit him, Spike stumbles towards Jakey, whom grabs him by the wrist and Irish whips him across the ring into the opposite corner. Jakey stampedes towards his opponent and once near the corner, leaps into the air, planting a foot on the chest of Jenkins and using the momentum off his opponent to back flip through the air and land on his feet!


“Beautiful corner back flip!” praises the Suicide King. “Did you see that, Mak? He just did a back flip off of Spike’s chest!”


“Yes, King, I saw.”


“Oh, don’t be jealous because you can’t do that in your little chair.”


Spike stumbles out of the corner, straight into a Jakey superkick that catches Jenkins underneath the jaw. With his opponent staggering back, Jakey grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him into a side headlock. Jakey speeds towards the ropes with Spike in tow, leaps into the air and springboards off the top rope, spinning around and comes crashing down, driving Spike face first into the mat with a bulldog!


“Springboard bulldog by the Cruiserweight Champion!”


“He used a girls move! That’s hilarious!”


“I wouldn’t necessarily call it a girls move…”






Spike hits the mat face first and quickly rolls over, clutching his head as he slams his legs into the mat in pain. Jakey hurries over to the prone body of Jenkins and hooks the leg for the cover!















THREE—NO! Jenkins pushes Jakey off of him!


“Spike Jenkins kicking out of that springboard bulldog, King! The Fabulous Jakey is having a hard time keeping the Straight Edger down!”


“Don’t talk about straight edge around Jakey, Mak. He knows ALL about it…not by being it, but by spending a lot of time around someone who used to do it. Like you are with me and walking…HA!”


“I hate you so much.”


Jakey slowly climbs up to his feet, breathing hard and visibly exhausted. Reaching down, he grabs his weakened opponent and drags him up to his feet. Jakey gets Spike up to a standing position…and suddenly; the New Straight Edge Sensation comes to life! With a burst of energy, Spike slaps Jakey across the face with a right…then a left…then a right…then a left…then a right…then a left, knocking the Cruiserweight Champion back a couple of steps! Jakey blindly throws a right, trying to stop Jenkins in his tracts…but Spike ducks it and shoots into The Fabulous One, wrapping his arms around his waist. With a quick pop of the hips, Jenkins hoists Jakey up into the air and drops back, driving him onto the back of his head with a snap side belly-to-back suplex!


“Spike just dropped Jakey on the top of his head!” shouts Francis.


Jakey sits up, holding the back of his head and neck in agonizing pain. Spike quickly rolls over and up to his feet. He grabs Jakey by the neck and pulls him up to his feet quickly, as well. Turning his opponent around, he underhooks Jakey’s arm and locks his hand around the back of the neck with a half nelson. Grabbing Jakey by the tights, he elevates him up into the air and drives him back down across the knee with a backbreaker!


“Half Nelson Backbreaker following up that Belly-to-Back Suplex! Jakey is out of it!”


Spike quickly rolls Jakey over and hooks the leg!
















“The Fabulous Jakey kicks out! Spike can’t believe it!”


“I have to admit, Mak. That was a close one for the Cruiserweight Champion!”


Spike sits up, a look of confusion and exhaustion on his face. He slowly begins to climb up to his feet. Right behind him, Jakey rolls over onto his stomach and pushes himself up, as well. Spike makes it up to his feet, with Jakey slowly up behind him. Spike grabs Jakey by the wrist and Irish whips him into the corner. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Spike charges into the corner and raises his leg up into the air, looking for a running yakuza kick…but Jakey dodges out of the way! Spike’s foot hits the top rope, stopping the New Straight Edge Sensation dead in his tracks.


“Spike misses his patent Yakuza kick in the corner!”


Jenkins grabs his knee, trying to shake off the pain from catching the turnbuckle. He turns around back towards the ring. As he turns around, Jakey charges towards the corner, ready to strike…but Spike ducks his head down and lifts Jakey up into the air with a backdrop…but Jakey grabs onto the top rope and turns his body inward and lands on his feet on the apron!


“Spike tries to toss Jakey out of the ring, but he lands on the apron!”


“Reflexes like a cat, Mak! LIKE A CAT!”


“What?” responds a slightly amused Mak Francis.


Spike takes a few steps out of the corner, unaware that his opponent is on the apron. He turns his attention back towards Jakey, finally noticing him on the apron. He quickly shoots in with a right hand to knock the Cruiserweight Champion off the apron, but Jakey blocks it. Jakey takes the opportunity to retaliate with a forearm to the face, knocking Jenkins backwards into the ring. With his opponent stumbling, Jakey scales to the top rope.


“The Fabulous Jakey is going to the top rope! He could be looking for that DDT off the top rope!”


“You know you aren’t in good shape when the Cruiserweight Champion is on the top rope. That usually ends bad for his opponent!”


Spike turns around, looking on as Jakey descends to the top rope. The Fabulous One gets onto the middle rope and positions himself on the top rope, still bent over trying to catch his balance…AS SPIKE JENKINS CHARGES INTO THE CORNER, DRIVING HIS BOOT INTO THE SIDE OF JAKEY’S FACE!


“Running Yakuza Kick!”


“OH! Why? Why does Spike enjoy kicking people in the face so much?”


Jakey nearly falls off the top rope, his eyes roll into the back of his head as he fumbles on the top rope. Jenkins wastes not even a second as he climbs up to the middle rope and up to the top rope with Jakey! Pulling Jakey into a standing position with him on the top rope, Spike wraps his arms around the waist of Jakey. Jenkins pivots his hips and hoists Jakey upside down and into the air…AND BOTH MEN COME CRASHING OFF THE TOP ROPE TO THE MAT AS SPIKE DRIVES JAKEY DOWN WITH A TOP ROPE GUT WRENCH SUPLEX!!!!




Jakey shoots up into a sitting position, holdings his ribcage as he gasps for air.


“I think he knocked all of the air out of The Fabulous Jakey!”


Spike sits up, grabs Jakey by the shoulders and shoves him down to the mat. He hooks one of Jakey’s legs and with his other arm, hooks it under Jakey’s neck and clasps his hands together, cradling the Cruiserweight Champion!



















Ordonez quickly sits up and signals for the bell!


*Ding Ding Ding*


“Jenkins defeats the Cruiserweight Champion after a high-paced, hard-hitting contest!”


“Fantastic. Now this fool is really going to think he deserves a title match against Alan Clark.”


Spike releases his hold on Jakey and rolls away from his defeated opponent. Ordonez follows him, lifting his arm in the air as he declares Jenkins the winner.




Spike pulls his arm away from Ordonez and rolls away towards the ropes and out of the ring. Holding the back of his head, Jenkins begins to make his way up the ramp, making sure to turn around and watch his opponent. The Fabulous Jakey rolls over onto his stomach and pushes himself up to his knees. Ordonez goes to hand him the Cruiserweight title, which Jakey rips out of his hands.


“You can’t take anything away from Jakey, King. He put on one hell of a fight against Spike Jenkins. It could have gone either way!”


“I wish it went the other way, though.”


“The bottom line is Spike Jenkins picks up another win since returning to action, takes one step closer to the SWF World Heavyweight Title AND puts a damper on the plans of Revolution Zero!”


“Toxxic will defiantly not be happy that The Fabulous Jakey just took a loss to Spike Jenkins!”


Emmure’s “When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong” blasts in the background as “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins walks up the ramp towards the back, his arm raised up in the air in victory.




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It's sunset in Tampa, Florida. With the glowing orange horizon in the background and the soothing sounds of the waves from the Ocean, we focus in on the SWF Hardcore Gamers Championship, held proudly over the shoulder of.... uhm, Megan Skye? Yes, Megan Skye. The camera does a quick, embarrassed pull to the left, finally finding Landon Maddix, sat back on the balcony of his hotel room with a cocktail glass in his hand. Filled with what certainly looks like plain Pepsi Max. And a parasol, of course. Lowering his shades, Landon grins to the camera and takes a sip of his 'cocktail'.


"This is the life, huh? Now, I know what you're all thinking right now. 'How the hell could a cameraman mistake Megan Skye's shoulder for the bulging biceps of La Cucaracha?' That and 'hey, that doesn't look like Norway to me.' Well, you're right to ask on both counts. I'm not over in Norway for this special Tribute To The Vikings edition of Storm. See, it's been a good week. A really good week for Landon Maddix."


Landon glances down into his lap and to another title belt. We can't quite make it out, aside from the letters 'OAO'.


"So, I'm over here in Tampa for a little bit of a... celebration." Landon clarifies, trying to stay as diplomatic as possible. "Which is a shame. I was really looking forward to coming back over to Norway. All that snow. And ice. And I haven't had a good reindeer burger in lord knows how long! But if Landon Maddix can't come to Norway, then, well Norway will just have to come to Landon Maddix."




"I'm not sure what I meant by that." admits Landon. "The point is, I didn't want my SWF fans to feel left out so I've taken a little time out from my hectic schedule to record this little message. And to say something to you, MANSON."


Rubbing his jaw, it's clear Landon is still feeling the effects of the Curbstomp. Or trying to remind people it happened. Whatever.


"As I'm sure you're aware by now, I have to sign off on any contract to face you at Ground Zero. And do you know why that is MANSON? You know why Tom Flesher can't just flex his mighty ego and do whatever the hell he feels like doing, to whomever he feels like doing it to, as usual. Because you are a psychopath MANSON. Everybody knows why you want me one on one. It's to injure me. It's to hurt me and to put me out of wrestling, for what reason god only knows. I know it. The fans know it. And the board know it, which is why they've had to increase the stationary budget this month, because so many waivers and contracts have been torn up."


Landon takes another swig of his 'cocktail'.


"You want to know, I'm sure, have I signed off on the match yet? Have I signed off on the match yet? MANSON, I haven't signed off on a match with you at Ground Zero. And I don't intend to. What do I have to gain from facing you on Pay Per View? Some more bruises? Some more blood-shed? Another trip to the dentist to check my pearly whites? All for a little extra cash in a pocket that's already over-flowing and a little more exposure for a man who can afford to pick and choose just where he wrestles on a Wednesday or Thursday night? And over some ridiculous notion you've got in your head regarding me? Sounds like a hiding to nothing, eh Megan?"


"...sorry, what?" mumbles Megan, waking from her daydream. Standing and holding belts is a pretty boring job after all, got to make the time go by somehow.


"Nevermind. MANSON, there's bigger freaks to fry in this world than you. You're still not that high on my priority list, even after two Curbstomps and some deeply despariging remarks directed towards me in a rap song on YouTube that my lawyers are looking into. See, all these transparent ways of getting me to face you aren't going to work. Unlike most of the braindead egomaniacal super-jocks in that SWF locker room, I'm not ruled by my impulses. I'm rules by a brain. Her brain!"


Landon points to Megan, who kinda waves awkwardly and tries to hide the shame of being associated with him right about now.


"And her brain is telling me 'don't waste your time'. Come Ground Zero, I might be defending this title..."


Landon goes to raise the belt, but is interrupted by a cough from the HCG holding Megan. A yet more embarrased Megan.


"...that title. I might not. I might not even be at Ground Zero at all! Who knows? I'm a busy man MANSON, too busy to play mindgames with the likes of you. My mind is going a mile a minute as it is. So, go ahead and play with the Ced Ordonezes and the Insane Luchadors of the world again, because if you're waiting on Landon Maddix, you might be waiting a while buddy. See you next week...





Landon takes a last swig of the 'cocktail' and lowers his sunglasses again as we fade out on the Florida sunset...






Which is when we cut back to Norway and interestingly, the fans aren't the only ones watching that interview closely. Decked out in his ringgear, MANSON stands in front of one of the monitors he passed on his journey to the ring, snorting a little under his breath before continuining on in the direction of the ring.

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“We’re back!” says an excited Mak Francis. “And coming up next, we’ve got something of a rematch, as Toxxic leads his new Revolution Zero into battle, as they challenge Wild and Dangerous for the SWF Tag Team Titles! And King, Toxxic figures to be motivated to win back the Tag Titles, he has the opportunity to join a very select group of individuals that have won the Tag Team Titles at least three times, all with different partners!”


“But when you look at the rest of that list, all those individuals had quality tag team partners,” adds the Suicide King. “Whether you’re talking about Rane, whom won titles with Hall of Famers like Sarp, or Chris Raynor, whom has held the Tag Team Titles with the likes of Mags and Edwin, or whether you’re talking about that twerp Maddix, whom was carried by four different guys to the titles. Toxxic is going after his third tag title reign with Austin Sly, and while he’s shown that he can get it done in the ring, his name sounds a little out of place with those other guys.”


“Nonetheless, it promises to be a fantastic encounter,” continues Mak, “as perhaps the best individual performer in the SWF today and his partner will try and conquer what is, arguably, the top tag team in SWF history!”


“Well, I’ll say this,” replies King, “there’s probably nobody that knows what it takes to beat Wildchild and Johnny Dangerous than Toxxic… but most of his victories against them have been individually. He’s really going to have to be on his game if he wants his team to come away victorious tonight!”


“There’s no question that Wild and Dangerous have incredible teamwork, but will Toxxic and Austin Sly be able to communicate well enough together in the ring to get the job done? We’ll know soon enough, as we send it up to Funyon in the ring!”






“The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the SWF World Tag Team Championship!”




Suddenly the house lights hit full, bathing the audience in a rich white light. The SmarkTron also goes to a blank, white screen. There is the sound of a needle scratching against a record before some familiar words fill the arena…




… and the cheers immediately shift into a chorus of boos, along with a faint “Toxxic sucks!” chant and, most obviously, the roaring guitar riff of ‘Know Your Enemy’ by Rage Against The Machine! The fans boo as Toxxic and Austin Sly make their way onto the stage. Both men have a look of arrogance and confidence about them, Toxxic with his slightly lopsided grin and Austin with a more menacing smile and a slight flex of his muscles. Stephens crosses his arms into an “X” momentarily before the duo begins to make their way down to the ring. The audiences on both side of the ramp begin a duel chant.






“Making their way to the ring,” begins Funyon, “are the challengers! At a total combined weight of four hundred fifty-five pounds, the team of Toxxic and Austin Sly… REV-O-LUTION ZEEEEERO!”




“The challengers look confident,” notes Mak.


“Well, it's hard not to look confident when you've got Toxxic as a tag team partner,” replies King. “You’re talking about one of the best who’ve ever done it!”


They hit the ring in stride and slide under the bottom rope and into the ring before each makes his way to ascend a turnbuckle. Toxxic once again raises his arms to form an “X”, while Austin simply stares out over the audience, and then to his opponents. Sly jumps down and meets with Toxxic in their corner for a last-minute strategy session as their music fades out.





The fans begin to cheer again as Cool J and Busta’s “Starsky and Hutch” begins to play, signifying the arrival of the champions! They step out onto the stage, WC wearing his championship belt around his waist, while Johnny holds his aloft for the fans.


“AAAAAND their opponents!” Booms Funyon, “Making their way to the ring at this time, at a total combined weight of four hundred thirty-nine pounds, they are the reigning… AND DEFENDING… SWF World Tag Team Champions: WILD! AAAAAND DAAAAANGEROUS!”


Wildchild and Johnny slap hands with the fans at ringside as they make their way towards the ring. Johnny and WC enter the ring simultaneously and each head over to a corner of the ring, where they scale the turnbuckles to face the crowd. They then hop down into the center of the ring and surrender the title belts to Herrington, who holds them aloft to display to the crowd as “Starsky and Hutch” fades out. After a short discussion, it is apparently decided that Sly will start the match and Toxxic steps out of the ring and onto the apron. In the other corner, there is no such discussion, as Wildchild prepares to start the match as always.






“Bell’s gone,” shouts Mak, “and we’re underway!” Wildchild and Sly circle each other in the center of the ring; WC quickly goes behind Austin and trips him with a waistlock takeover. Before Austin can push himself to his feet, the Bahama Bomber leaps into the air and comes crashing down onto his back with a leaping senton splash! WC then spins around to face Austin and traps him in a front facelock.”


“Another inauspicious start for Austin Sly,” notes Mak. “And, as we noticed the last time these two were matched up in the ring, Sly has a real problem with Wildchild’s speed; he’s definitely going to have to try and learn from their last match!” Sly negotiates his way to his feet and belts WC in the midsection to force him back towards the edge of the ring; he uses the leverage from the ropes, as well as his power to force Wildchild across the ring, but as he lowers his head to deliver a back-body drop to the returning Caribbean, WC evades him with a running leapfrog…




… And then smashes Sly in the face on the rebound with a flying back elbow! Wildchild beats Austin to his feet and greets him with a ferocious right cross that knocks him back down! WC waits for Sly to get back to his feet and takes him down with a textbook hiptoss; he then leaps into the air as Austin stands back up, and knocks him back down with a standing dropkick!


“Tremendous explosion of offense here by the Wildchild!” shouts Mak. WC pulls Austin to his feet and grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring, only for Sly to turn the tables on him, sending Wildchild back-first into a neutral corner! Austin charges at Wildchild to follow up on his assault… but the Tropical Tumbler gets his feet up and drives them both into Sly’s face! Sly staggers back towards the center of the ring, giving WC the opening to climb up to the top turnbuckle and leap back down into the ring, crushing Austin with a flying Thesz Press from the top! Rather than go for a cover, however, Wildchild begins hammering Austin’s face with a flurry of lightning-fast right hands!









“Austin Sly almost looked like he had turned the tables on Wildchild with that reversal into the corner, but he took his eye off of Wildchild for a split-second, and you can’t do that against an opponent with that kind of speed!”


“Not only that,” spits King, “but Wildchild caught him flush on the mouth with those stinking bare feet! That’s horrible!” WC pulls Sly to his feet, but Sly stuns the Caribbean with a rake of the eyes, and then promptly scurries to his corner and tags in Toxxic.


“Sly bails out and tags to Toxxic,” says Mak, “and I don’t blame him! And now, here comes the former World Heavyweight Champion, whom you have to figure is going to have a little better luck against the Wildchild!” The Straight-Edge Sensation steps into the ring and methodically circles his opponent around the ring; the Bahama Bomber tracks the challenger as he takes a full, deliberate lap around the ring.


“And that was a very subtle but brilliant maneuver on the part of Toxxic!” praises King, as Toxxic finally steps in to lock up with his opponent. “You’ve got the momentum on Wildchild’s side, and you know first-hand what he can do when he’s on a roll, so you take the wind out of his sails by slowing the match down; you take the crowd out of it, and you dissipate that momentum that he was building up!”


Wildchild takes control with a side-headlock, prompting Toxxic to lead him back towards the edge of the ring; the Straight-Edge Sensation uses the ropes to help him launch WC across the ring, and actually stops him in mid-motion, slipping out from the headlock and reversing into a standing arm-wringer, which he quickly transitions into an inverted front-facelock; Toxxic then fluidly spins around, aiming the point of his elbow towards WC’s chest…






Toxxic takes the Bahaman down to the canvas with an elbow-drive bulldog, and quickly covers:













Wildchild kicks out at two! Toxxic pulls WC to his feet and leads him over to a neutral corner; he grabs the Champion by the back of the head and rams him face first into the top turnbuckle! Stephens sneers at the crowd as he grabs Wildchild by the back of the head and slams him into the turnbuckle once again; he then buries his forearm into the back of Wildchild’s neck, grinding the Caribbean’s face into the top turnbuckle! Herrington begins delivering a five-count:















Toxxic breaks well ahead of the five-count. He grabs Wildchild by the back of the head and rams him into the top turnbuckle a third time, and then follows up as WC staggers out of the corner with a tremendous European uppercut! Toxxic stays on top of the stunned Caribbean and catches him in a head-and-arm trap, lifts him up off the canvas…






… And drives him down with a Sambo Slam! Toxxic applies a lateral press:













Kickout! Toxxic looks up at the referee and slaps his hands together, indicating a slow count.


“Tremendous turnaround in this match for Revolution Zero,” says Mak, as Toxxic pulls Wildchild to his feet. “Toxxic has totally taken over, and put his team in control! Johnny Dangerous is chomping at the bit across the ring, but he can do nothing but stand and watch!” Toxxic tags Sly back in, and then hold WC’s arms back as Sly steps into the ring and drives a boot into his midsection! Sly leads Wildchild over to the neutral corner and grabs him by the back of the head to continue on the attack that Toxxic began moments ago… But the Bahama Bomber gets his foot up to avoid being slammed into the turnbuckles a fourth time, and the turns the tables, slamming Sly into the turnbuckle instead! Toxxic rolls his eyes as WC begins to hammer Austin with piston-like rights!







Sly breaks up his momentum with a rake of the eyes, and grabs him by the wrist to whip him across the ring, but WC reverses it on him, sending him back-first into the turnbuckles! WC charges into the corner, only for Sly to lift up both of his feet to slam them into Wildchild’s face, but the Human Hurricane not only ducks underneath them, but slides out to the floor! He grabs Sly’s feet as soon as they return to the canvas and trips him from outside the ring, slamming him nose-first into the canvas! WC then quickly returns to the apron and leaps fluidly onto the top turnbuckle as Austin gets to his feet, before springing back into the ring to crash into Sly with a flying cross-body block!
















“Springboard into a high cross-body!” shouts King. “I’m a little surprised that, so soon after losing the World Cruiserweight Championship when that exact move got countered on him, that he’d go for that move again, against another Revolution Zero member, no less!” WC pulls Sly to his feet and leads him over to his corner, where he finally makes the tag to Johnny Dangerous; WC then pulls Sly nearer the center of the ring, as Johnny steps through the ropes.



“Tag is made!” shouts Mak. “And Johnny Dangerous is about to get his first taste of action in this match!” WC traps Austin in a front waistlock and lifts him up into the air as Johnny runs to the ropes; Wildchild drops Sly down onto his outstretched thigh with an inverted atomic drop, and then suddenly bridges back a split-second before the Barracuda’s outstretched arm slices over the top of him, leveling Sly with a running clothesline! Johnny pulls Sly to his feet and leads him over to his corner, where he scoops Austin up and slams him back down to the canvas; Johnny then reaches over to quickly tag WC back into the ring, who gracefully launches himself over the top rope, and onto his partner’s shoulders.


“What are they going for here?” Mak wonders aloud, as Johnny suddenly sits out, dumping WC off his shoulders and onto the Sly One with an assisted Electric Chair Splash! Wildchild applies a cover:













…but Sly kicks out at two! WC pulls Austin to his feet, but Sly once again stuns him with a rake of the eyes, and scrambles over to his corner to make the tag to Toxxic. Stephens returns to the ring, but this time he underestimates WC’s recovery ability, and the Tropical Tumbler scoops him into an inverted atomic drop! Wildchild leaps into the air as Toxxic clutches his lower extremities, and knocks the former champion down with a standing dropkick!


“Toxxic with a rare error in judgment on that occasion,” says Mak, as WC drags Toxxic back over to his corner. “And have you noticed how, every time Sly turns the match over to Toxxic, his team is at a disadvantage?”


“I don’t know if I’d have put it quite that way,” replies King, “but Sly is definitely going to have to step his game up if he wants to help Toxxic bring the tag titles back to Revolution Zero; he definitely doesn’t want anybody thinking that he’s the weak link of this organization!”


WC reaches out and tags his partner back in, and then sends Stephens to the ropes with an Irish whip. When Toxxic rebounds Johnny is in the ring, standing side by side with the Bahama Bomber, and they snatch him off his feet and send him overhead with a double hiptoss!




Toxxic rolls up to his feet to try and quickly get back on the defensive. He sees the Barracuda stalking towards him and lashes out with a wild right hand, which Johnny ducks… and then carries his back foot up, and over, smacking the Straight-Edged Sensation in the face with a Scorpion Kick!




The crowd roars in delight as Stephens staggers back, clearly stunned out of his mind, which makes it all the more easier for the Barracuda to plan his next attack. Johnny pulls Stephens onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry position as Mak Francis excitedly calls out: “The Barracuda’s looking for a Spinal Explosion!”


The crowd recognizes the motions of Dangerous’ trademarked move and they move to the edges of their seats in anticipation. Their eagerness to see the dastardly leader of Revolution Zero have his spine smashed into the canvas is easily detected by Johnny, and so like any good entertainer would do he stalls momentarily to try and get a rise from the crowd, and then pumps one fist out to them as he unleashes a ferocious battle cry!




Perhaps it’s the sudden surge of cheers, or maybe just too much time allotted, but Stephens comes to his senses while still draped over the Barracuda’s shoulders! He panics, suddenly clamping down around Johnny’s head and desperately kicking his legs out, which frees him off Dangerous’ shoulders and he drops down in front-




-dragging Dangerous down with him for an improvised DDT!


“OH!” Francis bellows as the crowd roars in disgust… and Wildchild holds his head in disbelief. “Dangerous took too much time there, mugging for the fans, and it came back to bite him in the rear!”


Stephens is a little woozy still, but apparently not as bad off as the Barracuda now is. He crawls over Johnny, hoping that just maybe he’s got him, and covers him for:










“Saved by the Bahaman boot!” Francis snorts. King just shakes his head and considers releasing the emergency breaks on Mak’s wheelchair.


Herrington quickly pops to his feet and barks at the Bahaman to exit the ring. He keeps his eyeballs glued to Wildchild as the Caribbean Cruiserweight heads back to his corner. Unintentional or not, the referee turning his back to Revoltuion Zero is like leaving the keys in the ignition of a Ferrari overnight and trusting that nobody will steal it. The opportunity is just too much to pass up for Austin. He runs in and starts stomping the holy hell out of the secret agent as Stephens staggers to his corner and steps out to the outside.





After making sure several of those stomps nail the Barracuda directly in the skull Austin ceases his attack, which happens to occur at the same time as Herrington turns around and signals the tag. Obviously, the fans are not at all pleased and they sound of with a chorus of boos.


“Once more we see that Austin is taking over just as his leader got the match back under control,” Francis points out. “I can’t quite call that a legal tag, though.”


“It looks to me like the referee signaled for the tag. That makes it pretty damned legal according to the rule book,” King responds. “Furthermore, Toxxic is the more experienced wrestler. Handing the reigns over to Austin once the match is under control is exactly what he should be doing.”


Leaving Dangerous on the mat, rocking back and forth while holding his head in both hands, Austin makes a quick move to the nearby ropes, bounces back and drops a knee into the Barracuda’s exposed chest! Dangerous convulses from the impact and then Sly grabs Johnny by his head and drags him up to his feet, “-and Austin is making a mistake by putting Dangerous back on his feet,” warns Mak. “Keep the heat on Johnny while you have him down!”


Austin pulls Dangerous’ head down by his hair and repeatedly knees him in the face, before a final shot sends the Barracuda staggering back into the ropes. Sly rushes towards Johnny for a lariat but the Barracuda ducks under his attempt and grabs around Austin’s midsection, looking for a suplex!


“Austin’s in trouble!” Mak shouts, but Austin frantically swings his elbow back into Johnny’s face before Dangerous can even begin to lift him up, forcing the Barracuda to release his hold, but when Sly spins around to face his opponent-




-he turns directly into a solid uppercut from the Barracuda! Sly stumbles back into the ropes as Johnny brings his arm back for a second hit. He steps forward and swings with a right cross, but this time its Austin’s time to duck out of harms reach, skirting under Johnny’s arm and coming up behind him! Sly jumps up just as Dangerous turns around-




-and Austin plants two feet into the Barracuda’s chest! Johnny isn’t taken off his feet but he stumbles backwards, into the ropes, and then aimlessly bounces off them into the waiting arms of Austin…



…who sends him high over head with a quick belly-to-belly suplex!


“Who’s in trouble now?” King snorts as the crowd unloads with some more boos, due in part to Toxxic pumping his fist excitedly for his partner. Austin applies a lateral press on Dangerous for:










…but Johnny thrusts his shoulder off the mat, ending the count, and getting some cheers in response! Dangerous rolls over and starts getting up as Wildchild hollers at him from the corner and starts pounding the turnbuckle padding with his hand, in hopes that he can get his partner moving while the crowd chants:





But Austin has other ideas, and he hauls Dangerous to his feet and then clamps down on him with a front facelock. Johnny tries to squirm his way free until Austin silences him with a quick knee to the gut and the reaches down to underhook both of Johnny’s arms for a double arm DDT, but before he can land the move Dangerous breaks one arm free! He jams his knuckles into Austin’s ribcage, and then three more times to finally free himself before the secret agent grabs Sly’s arm and twists out to the side, stunning him with a quick kick to the ribs!


The crowd bursts into cheers as Austin doubles over in pain, only to have Johnny grab him from behind and duck his head under an arm!


“He’s going for –” exclaims Mak, and Johnny lifts Austin off the mat, looking for the MI Slam!




NO! Austin slips out of the Barracuda’s grasp before Dangerous can deliver his patented finisher and shoves off of his shoulders, landing just slightly to the side of Johnny! The fans let out a collective sigh, but still hold a death grip on their seats, until Dangerous turns right into a short arm clothesline!




“Ha!” snorts King. “That’s why you don’t try something like that until you have a firm control over the match.”


Austin doesn’t even try a pin at this point, figuring it’d just give Dangerous more time to rest. He hauls Johnny up to his feet and traps him in a side headlock, “-and again I have to question Austin’s decision to keep the Barracuda on his feet,” Mak says desperately. “Johnny is someone that you want to keep off his feet as much as possible.”


“In most cases I’d agree with your point,” King returns, “but Austin’s not giving Johnny time to react – he’s keeping the pressure going strong.”


Austin jams his free elbow into Johnny’s back, but it seemingly only serves to send a quick surge of energy through Johnny as he suddenly wraps his arms around Sly’s waist and charges forward, running him all the way into the corner post!


“OH!” the crowd winces at the impact! Johnny peels himself off Sly and turns to make an escape. Austin sees that Dangerous is closer to making a tag than he has in quite some time, so he ignores the pain and bolts across the ring! Wildchild glances up and sees Sly closing in and he hollers at his partner to hurry, so with all the energy he has Johnny leaps towards WC-






-but not before Austin pops WC right in the kisser, knocking him off the apron!


“So close!” hollers Mak. Austin takes off to the nearby ropes just as Johnny is starting to pick himself back up, rebounds back-




-and drills the Barracuda’s skull into the mat with a bulldog! Fans boo louder than they have all night for this, but it does nothing to deter Sly. When Johnny hits the mat he bounces up and comes to a final halt on his back, which provides the perfect opportunity for Austin to hit the So-Cal!


“This could be it!”


Austin runs to the nearest ropes, but is stopped when WC grabs on to him from behind! “A total act of desperation!” roars King.


Herrington hollers at WC to release him but the Bahaman refuses, and holds on until an elbow from Sly catches WC in the mouth! Finally released, Austin steps off the ropes and then runs back to them…


“NEW CHAMPS!” King exclaims as Austin leaps to the middle rope and springs off after a single bounce, back-flipping himself back onto Dangerous-




-but his chest lands squarely on the Barracuda’s knees! Johnny having pulled his knees up at the last moment to save himself from Austin’s So-Cal, and it puts Sly in a world of misery! As expected, the crowd is thrilled and cheers ring out, while Stephens angrily pounds his fist into the turnbuckle padding! Finally, Dangerous is able to tag WC back in, and the Bahaman comes in a house of fire!


“Here he comes!” shouts Mak. Wildchild charges towards Austin, who is just know standing up, though wearily clutching his chest, and WC peppers Sly in the face with a series of left and right hands!


Fans chant for WC as he continues to blister Austin’s face with punches, leaving Sly reeling! He grabs Austin in a side headlock and then marches him to the corner, tagging Johnny back in. Dangerous heads in and immediately kicks Austin in the gut, keeping him subdued, and then motions to the crowd that he’s about to finish this match off! Seeing this, Toxxic hops down from the apron and heads around the ring, unnoticed by Wild and Dangerous.



“Look at the set up!” cries King. “Wild and Dangerous are looking for a Silver Bullet!”


Austin is sent across the ring with an Irish whip as the Wildchild rushes towards the ropes and Dangerous crouches slightly to catch Sly with a back body drop on the return. Sly hits the ropes… and then falls, face-first to the mat, when Stephens suddenly reaches under the bottom rope and grabs his partner by his ankle!




“Not this time! Toxxic just saved his partner from becoming victim to the Silver Bullet!” shouts Francis. “This crowd might not like it but that was excellent work by the veteran member of Revolution Zero. He saw what the Champs were up to and steeped in just in time to bail Austin out!”


“Most definitely,” King naturally agrees. “He’s faced these clowns enough times to known them like the back of his hand.”


Johnny marches to the edge of the ring and hollers at Toxxic, while WC opts to simply put an end to anymore interference. He rushes across the ring and then leaps up, spinning completely around in mid-air to land on the top rope with his back facing the crowd, and then moonsaults himself off and over Stephens, just as Toxxic finally sees him. Unfortunately, it’s too late and WC snatches Stephens by the head to viciously smear his skull into the thinly-padded mats!








“What the hell?! That was like an Asai Moonsault turned into a reverse DDT!” shouts King.


“That’s exactly what it was,” Mak simply replies. Dangerous—his mouth gaping open and his eyes wide with surprise—can only look in shock at what he’s just seen. Though he should know better with the amount of time he’s spent with WC, and he should also know to keep his eyes glued to the match. Austin crawls in from behind and quickly reaches up between Dangerous’ leg and takes him over with a surprising school boy! Herrington dives in to count as the crowd cries out in horror!






















“NO! Dangerous just barely kicked out!” shouts Francis as the crowd lets out a collective sigh of relief. “Talk about by the skin of your teeth!”


Johnny scrambles to get off his back. Austin might not have done any physical damage with that but he certainly took Johnny off his game. Johnny rolls to his feet and immediately gets on the defensive. Austin isn’t exactly as fast to get up as Dangerous but he is moving, and his mind is focused on winning this match with or without the help of his Revolution Zero leader. As Johnny approaches Austin suddenly springs forward, looking for a diving lariat, but Dangerous deftly dodges the attempt, letting Austin sail overhead before crashing into the mat.


“Austin with an act of desperation and it misses,” comments Mak. When Sly returns to his feet he becomes victim to Johnny’s trademarked palmstrike, cracking him right between the eyes! Austin is really stunned now, and as WC returns to the apron it becomes glaringly obvious that he could be seriously outgunned. Johnny sees his partner and nods to him, he knows how he wants to end this and he grabs Austin by his arm and attempts to whip him into the W&D corner, but Johnny purposely doesn’t put as much mustard behind it and the whip is reversed! Austin desperately sends Dangerous across the ring and then chases after him…


“NO!” King shouts his warnings but Austin obviously isn’t going to hear him, and goes right along with his plan. Johnny smacks back first into the steel post…


“Austin whipped him right into the Wild and Dangerous corner!” Francis shouts and when Austin sees it, like Johnny before him, it’s too late. WC quickly blind tags Johnny and then leaps to the top and dives off, catching Sly with a high flying sunset flip, which in this case it’s called a, “-BAHAMA DESTROYER!” Mak shouts. “That’s what won Wild and Dangerous the titles and now it may save them!”


WC holds Austin in position, while Stephens finally pulls himself up from the outside. All he can do now is watch…

















A massive cheer booms from the crowd as the bell rings to end this match! Music pounds out across the arena and Herrington returns with the Tag Team titles, handing them back to their owners.


“The winners of this match by pinfall,” Funyon bellows, “and as a result… STILL THE SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS… WILD! AAAAAAANNNND DANGEROOOUUUSSS~!!”


As we:



Edited by chirs3

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Ben Hardy is standing in the interview area; he looks off stage right, as the boisterous din of the victorious Tag Team Champions increases in intensity.


“I’m about to be joined by the SWF Tag Team Champions, Wild and Dangerous,” says Hardy, “who just completed a successful title defense against a very tough opponent in Revolution Zero… Now Johnny, you and Wildchild asked for this time because you said that you had an announcement to make?”


“That’s right, Ben,” replies Johnny. “You know, ever since we beat those two punks, Toxxic and Landon, to regain OUR tag team titles, people have been coming out of the woodwork to take shots at us; we’ve read it in print in the Apter mags, online at all the major internet sites, and even here in our own company! People saying that we’ve been hiding behind the belts… ducking opponents… all kinds of garbage like that!”


“Five times we hol’ dese belts,” interjects Wildchild, “an’ dey still show us no respec’… Lemme tell you somet’in: we didn’ win dese belts by accident. It’s not a coincidence dat we’ve beaten everybody dat’s been put in front of us! You can put is in all de singles matches you want to, but whenever it’s time t’put dese belts on de line, me an’ Johnny form like Voltron… an’ when we bus’ out dat Blazin’ Sword… dat’s a wrap!”


“What my young friend is trying to say,” clarifies Johnny, “is that we’re tired of putting up with people saying that we’re ducking from anybody… So, what you see here is an open contract, signed by both of us!”


“An open contract?” repeats Ben. “Are you saying then that…”


“What we’re sayin’, Benjy,” replies WC, “is dat we’re puttin’ de SWF on notice! Anybody dat t’inks de’re man enough to take dese titles, come on down an’ try!”


“That’s exactly right!” agrees Johnny. “We’re fighting champions, with this open contract, we’re going to prove it! We’re going to go out there every week...” Johnny pauses at Ben’s astonished look. “That’s right, EVERY week, and we’re going to put these belts on the line against anybody and everybody! So for all of you that wanted to talk trash about us and try to diminish what we’ve earned, we’ve got four words for you: Want Some?”


WC leans into the microphone: “GET SOME!”


With that, Wild and Dangerous exit the interview area stage left. “Well, there you have it,” says Hardy. “The World Tag Team Champions have officially gone on the offensive: they’ve challenged the entire SWF to try and take their belts… Can anyone answer the challenge? King, Mak, back to you!”



The last thing seen on camera is Hardy removing his earpiece…



As we:



Edited by chirs3

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