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SWF STORM~~~! 7-26-06

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"This is SWF Storm!" shouts Mak Francis over the raucous crowd. "We're here in Hasselt, Belgium at the Ethias Arena, and would you just listen to these fans!"


"This Ethias Arena sure is a dump, isn't it?! But I can hear them just fine… I just can't understand any of this moonspeak they're all shouting, though. What a bunch of frog-eating--"


"King. We're in Belgium."


"Exactly. There was a guy talking to me in French or whatever the hell earlier and for the life of me I couldn't understand anything he was saying, I think it was something about choosing the speak the language of cowards despite not living there. It's all the same here anyway. Belgium has waffles. In fact the only thing Europe is good for is the food and beer and that's all I care about, but I can drink and eat at home."


"You're a true humanitarian. But tonight--"


However, the lights drop, and what begins emanating from the speakers is a guttural, all too familiar distorted warbling, unquestionably evil in its intent.




"Yeah. Great. We all know what THIS means!" grumbles Francis, as the already standing crowd immediately react with boos.


"What a way to kick things off tonight, Mak! There's no better way to start off the night than by being graced with MANSON's presence!


"I disagree, he isn't scheduled for time right now, but he'll do whatever he wants anyway and no one will put a stop to it. Ahh! Just so long as we get this over with," he says in a huff.


One final growl kicks "Scientific Remote Viewing" by Cephalic Carnage into gear, as flashing strobes begin pulsing and smoke pours out over the stage, while darkness piercing spotlights roam the arena. The curtain parts and out walks a cloaked, masked MANSON, who begins making his way down to the ring.


"I don't think I appreciate your tone and surely he doesn't either! He's doing us all a favor by opening up the show! He just sets a good mood, you know?!"


"It's only doing us a favor if he explains his position and the actions he took last week."


"I'll have you know he's been very upset this past week! So have some sympathy!"


"What he did to Megan warrants one, but I'll believe his remorse when I see it."


"Landon only brought all this on himself by continuing to duck and disacknowledge MANSON!"


"In any case, let's see what he has to say in his defense, but it better be good," says Mak, as the Savage Messiah grabs a mic from the apron, having already made his way into the ring.




After brushing off his hood, MANSON brings the microphone up to face level.


"I don't know where you are, Landon Maddix, but I hope you're listening… although I'm sure you are!"


"From the higher-ups, to nearly everyone in the back, to those flooding the site asking for my head… They've all called what I did disgusting, unfit, awful and ugly… and they're right. The one question, though, has been 'Why?! How could you do that to her, this… delicate Megan?!"


"Let me say, Landon… you just made it too easy, way too easy! Since back when Johnson and I first decided on you, making you a target… and believe what you will, that it was an order or directive… the fact is I wanted to! But since then, I've had the time of my life making your life hell, the only thing that hasn't been easy was breaking your pride and spirit. But this whole time you've played me for a chump, underestimating me, not knowing what I was capable of… until it was too late!"


"See, Landon wasn't due to appear last week, he pulled out and I can take a guess as to why and you're looking at him!" shouts MANSON, as he points to himself. "I told you I could get to Landon or Megan anytime I wanted and I did it! As much as Landon hoped I couldn't go that far I proved him wrong! So while he was out making his appearances I made my move… I found where they were staying, snatched her up and brought her right to the show! And initially, although it was because she was the brains behind Landon that I turned my attention to her, it's turned into something… more."


"That's eerily similar to the incident with Gabriel Drake a while back," muses Mak.


"Landon just has a bad habit of letting his woman get kidnapped. He should invest in some better security."


"With how easy it was to get to her, I don’t think you realize what you have here, Landon! A woman like Megan, you should take better care before someone… more willing to do what it takes decides on her. Frankly, between this relationship you two have and Megan herself, being the well behaved woman she is… as a man, I'm a little… jealous," hisses MANSON. "Aside from a few early difficulties, it was real easy just… sliding in, binding her up and bringing her to Storm! From the early evening to the time I brought her out, she was an angel… not one peep or attempt at a struggle, and maybe that's why no one had a clue!"


"Yeah. Landon, she's sweet… real… sweet, a real fine woman, if you know what I mean! It's not just her brain, it's her… model perfect looks, her silky hair and smooth skin, her curves, the way she moves and walks! Why she's just my kind of woman!"


"I really don't like where this is going… Someone would just cut him off right now and… what in the HELL are you doing?!" questions Mak, nearly in shock, as he glances at King.


"I'm just… writing this stuff down for future reference. You know? Future. Reference."


"You're both depraved, man."


"As I tied Megan to the chair in the back, watching her silently as she sat in the dark, never leaving my sight and looking only at me… then later on, as I held her close, my arm around her body, real close… we looked pretty good, don’t you think?!"




"As a great man once said, I should have to pay to do that! I should have to pay to have a such a woman like that in my reach!"


"This is just… way beyond anything I've seen from him before. This is beyond the pale of anything he's ever done, talking about Megan like this."


"Landon… she's very… nice, you see… but here's the kicker! As I put my arm around her, grabbing her… my hand on her shoulder… holding her tight, you see, I could just tell from the look in her eyes that she was digging it, man! Especially as she began fighting, the fire in her eyes, that passion… that's the kind of woman I want! She really liked it, Landon, she was really into it! Being grabbed and thrown about, she was… hot! She REALLY liked it, I could tell1 She isn't sweet, she isn't a delicate flower… she's rough, she's depraved, she's just like me! She likes to fight and be fought! I wouldn't even have much work to do in making her something I want, she's already there! She's… a perfect ten, as you put it, right?! That's partially why I decided right there to push her to the limit! Because she likes it!"




"Now he's really gone too far!"


"But would you disagree?!"


"She's gorgeous, everyone knows it, but it's the fact that he goes this far in talking about her like this. What I want to know now is whether he's serious or just saying these things to get under Landon's skin even further."


"Now what I want to know, Lanodn… is why she isn't mine?! Or anyone like her?! But this goes beyond the quality of our trim, Landon! Why did everything else come to you! Huh? It's everything I should've gotten and more, I was the prodigy, I was the chosen one… and then right when I was reaching up, ready to take what should be mine… in you come! A fucking coward who ducks me at every opportunity?! Who treated everyone like absolute shit while I was being the good company man, doing what he was told! When I was the one who had everything taken… my knee is shot, my neck is wrecked… when it was ME who gave EVERYTHING AND GOT NOTHING BACK FROM HERE! BUT YOU GOT EVERYTHING!"








"Now he's losing it, King, and now the fans are begging for Landon to come out and give him the hook."


"He's right, though. He's always right!"


"Landon, I've said it in the past and I'll say it again, but I'm going to take pleasure in taking it all way from you! I'm going to love cutting your throat, ripping out your heart and feeding on it and slaughtering you all over again! It's all just the tip… and if you're no longer… capable, for whatever reason… just maybe… well, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know…"


"So is this his motive, finally revealed after all this time?! His jealousy?! Is he willing to admit something so… human about himself after claiming divinity all this time, and is Megan really one of his aims here, even after all he's said?!"


"I don't know about that, I believe all MANSON wants is to make so Landon can no longer… walk, I suppose, and make it so he can't enjoy all those things life has brought him. He'll put Landon on the path to ruination, which as he's said, is his life's mission."


"You hear the crowd, if you're back there, come out and accept the challenge before I do… something… I'll really regret!"








"Where is he in all this?! Are you telling me he chickened out again?!


"I doubt that… I assume he's busy with other matters tonight, namely the health of Megan."








"You know, Landon… They're getting a little impatient and so am I after all these weeks… Where are you, Landon?! What's your answer!"








"I don't think he's gonna be coming out," suggests Mak.


"Landon. T-This… This," he stammers. "Are… Landon. You're telling me your answer now or… rather… you're saying that after last week we're going to do this again?! Again?! Fucking AGAIN?! NO MATTER WHAT I SAY?!! NO MATTER WHAT I DO?!! LANDON! LANDON!! WHERE ARE YOU!! LANDON!! LAND--"

Edited by chirs3

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As the advertisements for Pepsi Max and The Simpsons Movie ends, SWF fans worldwide hear the booming voice of Mak Francis over the airwaves as the house lights go down in the background while the cameras pan the capacity (as always) crowd.


"...and welcome back everyone to SWF Storm! We're staring off the in-ring action tonight with a bang as long-time veteran Todd deKindes takes on the debuting Jesse James Sanders -"


"...the farmboy," the Suicide King interrupts as Funyon enters the ring.


" - yes, he's from Kansas. A farm in Kansas. Also, he's young. Thus, a farmboy. However, he's also known as quite an accomplished wrestler on the independent scene."


"I still don't get why we're bringing new goofs up on to worldwide television," mutters Sucide King. "We've got eighty-seven billion past champions, call some of them up. I mean, we've got superheroes, clowns, and whatever the hell Fulminatus is. Now, a farmboy?"


"Hey, don't forget CIA," remarks Mak.

"Don't remind me."

"Anyway, now that King has gotten bug out of his ass, let's go to Funyon in the ring."


"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to SWF Storm! The following match is set for one fall with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, already in the ring, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada..."


Obligatory pro-Canada pop for no good reason.


"...weighing in at two hundred and forty five pounds, TOOOOOOD DEKIIIIIINDES!"


The long-time veteran of the SWF raises his hand to a mild mixed pop from the Belgian crowd.


"Introducing his opponent..."


The house lights dim across the arena as the bluesy rock sounds of Kenny Wayne Shepards 'Blue on Black' begins to blast over the arena.


"...from Lawrence, Kansas, weighing in at two hundred and sixty-eight pounds, making his SWF debut, JESSEEEEEE JAAAAAAMES SANDERRRRRRS!"


The newest SWF star makes his way out to the ring to a mild pop from the capacity crowd. Dressed in plain black tights, Sanders absent-mindely slaps some hands as he comes out to the ring.


"Of course, tipping the scales at nearly 270 pounds, Sanders becomes one of the largest active men on the SWF roster, with only Kibagami, Gabriel Drake, and Bruner being larger than this newcomer to the SWF," Francis says as the two competitors stare each other down in the ring.


"So, he's had a few extra helpings of bacon and eggs back at the homestead," replies Suicide King. "This isn't New York, you don't get a world title shot within three months in the SWF simply because you've got some extra muscles."


"That is true, but as we've seen in the past with men such as Thoth or the aforementioned Gabriel Drake, some extra mass can help out during a match."




The two men circle each other for a moment, before heading towards each other for a lockup. After a moment of grappling, deKindes grabs Sanders in a headlock. Jesse James reverses it quickly into a headlock of his own, but then deKindes reverses it back into another headlock and then quickly takes Sanders down to the mat. Tod cranks on the headlock for a moment in the middle of the ring as the crowd - well, doesn't make much noise at all. Hey, it's the opening match and we're in the middle of a headlock fifteen seconds in.


"Tod DeKindes isn't exactly endearing himself to the Belgian crowd here tonight by going to the mat early," Mak says as Sanders slowly makes his way to the ropes.


"Hey, he isn't hear to make the bunch of waffle-lovers happy. He's here to win a match....forthefirsttimeinyears," King replies as deKindes continues to crank on the headlock.


"What was that, King?"

"Hey, this isn't exactly Flesher we're talking about here. Just being honest, all right?"


Anyway, back in the ring, the larger Sanders shifts his weight a bit and elbows deKindes right in he jaw. The blow allows Sanders to slip out of the headlock and then nail Tod with a big elbow to the forehead as the crowd actually begins to react a bit. After the elbow shot, Sanders drills Tod in he gut with a boot and grabs DeKindes in a front facelock. The Kansas native then lifts DeKindes up and nails him with a vertical suplex and follows it up quickly with a knee drop right to the chest as the crowd comes alive!


"Impressive series of moves from the rookie," Francis notes as Sanders waits for Tod to return to a vertical base. "This may be early in this match, but Jesse James Sanders doesn't look to have any jitters here in his SWF debut."


"He hit a vertical suplex, Mak. Let's not name him the second coming of Kibagami yet," King replies.

"I wasn't trying to imply anything like that, King."


As DeKindes gets back to his feet, Sanders steps back to the near corner. After a moment, the rookie from Kansas charges DeKindes and sends Tod end-over-end with a big running forearm! Tod scrambles back up to his feet, but is drilled by another forearm of the non-running variety which sends the Canadian veteran stumbling back to the middle of the ring. Sanders follows that up with another big forearm and finishes up the series of clubberin' with a big body slam. After a moment, Tod tries to get back to his feet but Sanders is ready and comes from behind with a huge...


"...RUNNING BULLDOG BY SANDERS!" exclaims Mak as the crowd comes alive while both men are down.


"OK, that was a little impressive but it's still pretty early in the mat to increase the decibel level that much," replies King.

"That may be true, but Sanders is completely in control of this match at the moment and that is still an achievement, despite Tod's record in the last few months."


Sanders quickly gets to his feet and raises his fist to the crowd to a decent pop while waiting for Tod to get back to his feet. As the Toronto native tries to clear the cobwebs, Sanders comes over and drills DeKindes with a knee to the gut and follows it up with a picture-perfect single arm DDT which compresses Tod's neck right into the hard unforgiving mat with a solid thud as Sanders rolls over for the cover...











"C'mon kid, a DDT hasn't won a match in big-time professional wrestling since Jake Roberts lost his latest crack vial," the always subtle Suicide King says as the ref indicates that indeed, the count way only two.


"Still, Tod DeKindes has to begin to be worried at this moment. He's stuck in first gear while this young rookie is completely taking him apart," Francis replies.

"We're what, fthree minutes into this match Mak? Is their a stipulation in your contract that you have to hype every rookie like he's the second coming of well...me?"

"Well, if that was true, I'd have to mention Sanders possibly being pinned by Landon Maddix in a few years then."

"Below the belt, Francis. Below the belt."


The SWF rookie simply shrugs and goes to bring DeKindes back up to the mat, but Sanders suddendly steps back holding his eyes. DeKindes grins for a moment to a small heel pop from the SWF faithful, and then hits Sanders with a dropkick sending the rookie down to the mat. The veteran then goes to work on Sanders, nailing the young kid with several stomps right to the gut. DeKindes then grabs Sanders by his head and pulls him into a front facelook. After a moment, Tod returns the favor from a few moments ago by dropping Sanders right to the mat with a big DDT! Tod plays to the crowd for a moment and then goes out to the apron and begins to climb the ropes to a growing buzz from the Belgian crowd. DeKindes signals to the crowd and then leaps into the air and lands, driving an elbow...




...right into the mat!


"A slight miscalculation by the veteran and it might cost him big-time in the latter stages of this match," Francis says as both men are laid out of the SWF mat.

"You have to take risks in order to achieve your goals, Mak. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. At least DeKindes has attempted something that you don't learn by the end of your first week in wrestling school," King replies as Sanders begins to stir.


Sanders slowly makes his way to his feet using the ropes as an aid while Tod DeKindes is down and out on the mat. Seeing that Tod isn't going to make his way back to his feet for at least for a while yet, the rookie from Kansas backs up to the near corner and then begins to run toward the fallen form of DeKindes and dropping a big knee right into the chest of the veteran. Sanders stands up to a growing pop from the capacity crowd, then pulls a woozy Tod back to a vertical base. Jesse then whips Tod into the ropes and lifts his size sixteen boot right into the direction of DeKinde's face, sending him to the mat via a vicious big boot as the crowd comes alive once again! After playing to the crowd for a moment once again, Sanders picks DeKindes back up and locks him into a front facelock once again. After a moment of building up the buzz throughout the Belgian crowd, Sanders powers the limp body of DeKindes up, holding him for one...two...three...four...five seconds, then dropping DeKindes back to the mat with a...


"...massive delayed verical suplex by the rookie!" Francis yells as the crowd pops large for the rookie.

"So, he can hold up a man for a few seconds. Yay," King replies with just a bit of sarcasm.


After a second, Sanders sits back up and gets back to his feet as the crowd continues to heat up. The big man from the heartland pulls Tod back up to his feet once again and absolutely drills the Toronto native with a big forearm right to the skull! Completely out of it, DeKindes spins around and falls onto the ropes and hangs on to the ropes, barely still on his feet under his own power. Jesse James confindently walks over to Tod and grabs him by the skull. Sanders then basically drags DeKindes back to the middle of the ring, positions DeKindes behind him and drops him to the mat with a big reverse neckbreaker! Sanders then hooks the near leg and goes for the pin...











"Again, maybe a little of Sanders inexperience coming through here. Most veterans wouldn't think of going for the pin after a mid-range move such as a reverse neckbreaker. This may cost him if DeKindes is able to reverse the momentum of the match," Francis says.

"An actual criticism. My God, it's like your an actual unbiased commentator," a surprised King replies.

"That's rich, coming from the guy who would try to justify Flesher killing a puppy in the middle of the ring."

"Only if the puppy deserved it."


On a non-Vickian note, Sanders gets back to his feet and attempts to pull Tod back to his feet once again, but DeKindes actually proves his veteran cred by sandbagging the rookie causing Sanders to drop him back to the mat. Jesse tries to pull up the Canadian veteran back to his feet but once again, DeKindes sandbags Sanders once again and this time the young rookie gets frustrated. He backs off for a moment and kicks the ropes in frustration before heading back towards the middle of the ring. Once again, Sanders goes to pick up DeKindes and this time, the veteran strikes. He cradles Sanders quickly and even though the Kansasan quickly kicks out, the momentum shifts for just a moment and Tod takes the advantage to hit a quick drop kick to the rather large knee of Sanders that sends the big man sprawling to the mat!


"See, that's why experience will always win out over young kids with a lot of hype. All the knowledge learned in a school can't compete with the cunning of a long career," King says.

"Exhibit A: Toxxic."

"Hmm. You have a small point. Anyway, DeKindes needs to keep the pressure on Sanders here so the big galoot can't get back on track."


Realizing that, DeKindes quickly nails Sanders with a big forearm and then drops the rookie down to the mat with an effective Russian Legsweep as the boobirds come out of the crowd, showering Tod with heat as he ambles over to the near corner. As Sanders lays on the mat, DeKindes cliimbs up to the second rope and lifts his arms to the booing crowd. Then, Tod leaps off and nails Jesse James with a...


"...second rope elbow drop from DeKindes!" Francis exclaims as the crowd boos the impressive manuever from the Torontoian.


The veteran then comes off the near rope and returns the favor from earlier in the mat by dropping a big knee on to the chest of Sanders. Jesse James slowly gets back to his feet as DeKindes simply waits for the larger man to get back to his feet. DeKindes then hits a big dropkick on the big rookie, sending him back into the ropes. With Sanders still on his feet, DeKindes nails Sanders with another dropkick but the big man stands his ground by somehow staying on two somewhat-shaky feet. DeKindes then rushes at Sanders again and goes for a somewhat-big clothesline, but Sanders ducks under to avoid the move. DeKindes turns around right into a big forearm, then Sanders picks the veteran on to his shoulders and drops him to the mat with a...


"...SAMOAN DROP BY SANDERS!" yells Francis as the crowd goes mad.

"Slight mistake by DeKindes, but he can still get back into gear if he keeps his head in the game," notes King.


The rookie then follows things up as both men get to their feet and...




...hits DeKindes with a hard elbow strike, then follows it up with a...




...big forearm that sends DeKindes back into the ropes, and Sanders finishes things off with a...




...big boot that sends DeKindes flat on his back as the crowd goes wild!


"OK, that might complicate matters," deadpans King.


Sanders then goes off the far ropes and goes to the sorta-sky again by leaping for a big knee drop once again, DeKindes manages to baaarely just roll away as the rookies knee hits the mat with a thud and both men lay on the mat while the referee begins to count both men down after a moment...




















DeKindes begins to stir, using the ropes to get back to his feet. As Sanders stands back up, DeKindes rushes in and takes Sanders back to the mat with a nasty chop block that sends the rookie back to the mat. DeKindes then gets back to his feet and grabs the rookies near leg and hits Sanders with a big kneebreaker. The veteran then follows it up with, well, another kneebreaker as the crowd continues to boo DeKindes. The Canadian native ignores the booing and goes off the far ropes and flies once again, hitting Sanders with yet another knee drop. With a small smile on his feet, Tod then begins to simply lay into Sanders with a series of vicious stomps on the young rookies ribs and stomach, drawing even more boos from the Belgian crowd.


"Again, no fancy moves. Nothing that'll get put in a Youtube video made by a fourteen year old. Simple and deadly, that's how DeKindes works," King says as the referee yells at DeKindes to stop his attack as Sanders is under the ropes.

"It may be effective, but both men are beginning to take some damage here and the question is who will be able to outlast the other one and land the killing blow," replies Francis.


DeKindes cleanly backs away from Sanders as the referee admonishes him. Sanders slowly gets back to his feet, only for DeKindes to absolutely nail him with a running dropkick! DeKindes then signals to the crowd with a 'thumbs down' and picks up the farmboy from the heartland and attempts to get him into position for the Spirit Breaker, but the rookie shifts his weight causing the two wrestlers positions to reverse, with Sanders now holding the advantage. With all the stumbling and reversals, both men are now near the ropes but that doesn't stop Sanders from compressing a few vertebrae in Tod's neck by dropping him straight down into a...


"...TOMBSTONE! TOMBSTONE!" Francis yells as the crowd explodes with a large pop for the rookie.

"That was impressive, but the farmboy needs to get DeKindes back in the middle of the ring in order to pull this victory off," replies King as Sanders goes for the pinfall - near the ropes. "He's not even going to get a count from the ref."


The big man goes for a pinfall, but the referee quickly stops the count before even one as DeKindes feet are tangled in the ropes after the neck cracking manuever. As the crowd goes mad, Sanders raises his fist to the crowd, then pulls a completely out-of-sorts Tod DeKindes to his feet. He then hoists DeKindes on to his shoulders, simply stands their for a moment while the crowds buzz continues to build, he then drops DeKindes into the mat with a brainbuster, also knows as...


"...BLEEDING KANSAS FROM SANDERS! It has to be over now," exclaims Mak as Sanders hooks the leg.













"Impressive victory from Jesse James Sanders in his first SWF match," Francis says as the strains of 'Blue on Black' begins to play over the cheering Belgian crowd.

"Well, he won. We've seen a lot of geeks win their first match, and then dissappear Mak."


As the announcers continue to bicker, Sanders raises his fist to the crowd to a large pop, then rolls to the outside slapping hands as he heads to the back, his first SWF victory in the record books.

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Tom Flesher runs his hands through his hair before leaning back in his leather chair, taking in a deep breath, and crumbles the piece of paper, the apparent source of his frustration, in his hands. He carefully takes aim and goes to shoot it into the trash can but it’s sent horribly off-course as an obnoxious knock on the door begins that causes Flesher to groan.


“Come in, Dagda,” he says while listening to Dagda’s annoying knocking, knowing the inevitable-


“Hang on, Tommy Boy, I’m not done yet,” he says before rushing the knocking tune, swinging the door open. He beams a wide grin before asking, “Can you name that tune?”


“Don’t call me,” he begins to say but his voice trails off since it’s an act of futility. He thinks back to their last encounter and replies, “Bohemian Rhapsody?”


“Damn,” Dagda mumbles, “I was thinking of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle.’ Anyway, I got your memo?”


“I didn’t send you a memo,” he slowly says, mulling over in his head why he could possibly want to see him. Dagda steps forward and shamelessly swipes the papers off the corner of the desk, plopping onto it, and looking down at Flesher’s ash tray, pack of Camels, and a lighter.


“Oh, so I can smoke then?” Dagda asks to Flesher’s slow nodding. He grins once again while reaching over, snatching a cigarette from Flesher’s pack, and lighting it with his lighter. “So you never sent a memo, Flesh’ah?”




Dagda looks down at his hand with the reminder “Annoy Flesher” etched in pen. He facetiously slaps himself on his forehead before explaining, “Of course, how could I have forgotten, it’s almost Ground Zero, yes?”


“Right,” Flesher says with a long sigh because the conversation’s inevitably going downhill.


“So, how’s the contract coming?”


“What contract?” Flesher asks, getting smoke blown into his face from his own cigarette.


“Last time I came in, man, I gave you a contract for a title shot!”


“It was a blank piece of paper, Dagda,” Tom coldly replies.


Dagda shoots at him as if he’s judging his intelligence, or lack there of. “Yes, yes it was… that’s why I was seeing how the work was coming along.”


“Dagda, first off…” Flesher stops before blurting, “I don’t know where to start.”


“Ye’ of little faith, Daddy Dagda can take any title shot and turn it into gold... well, ”


“What title did you have in mind?” Flesher questions him in an act of appeasement.


“Well,” Dagda says while sarcastically sinisterly rubbing his hands together. “I have always fancied the Cruiserweight Championship.”


Flesher stares before replying, “I think you’re a bit over the weight restrictions.”


Dagda simply shrugs at these unfounded allegations. “If my superior talent and drawin’ power is in question then beggars can’t be choosers, Tom-Tom, at the end of the day- if you’re so skeptical about me then I’ll take what you’ll throw my way. Hell, I’ll embarrass whoever you throw my way. Now, I’m not a cocky guy.”


“Of course not,” Flesher mutters.


“But any title shot, anytime, anyone, any stipulation, any place, anytime, anyone… shit, I’m being repetitive, aren’t I?”


“I get it,” Flesher says. “I’ll see what I can do, Dagda.”


“Good, good,” Danny says while enthusiastically slapping his hands on his desk. He hops off the desk and flicks the lit cigarette into Flesher’s filled trash bin while turning around to give a guilty glance back at him. He flings the door shut but it swings open a crack and he yells back, “Daddy Dagda gets it done, Fleshy, Daddy Dagda gets it done damn well!”

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Tom Flesher hears a whistling, and looks up. It’s approaching towards the outer office where his secretary sits, and for some reason Tom gets the impression that the person doing the whistling is doing it not to express happiness, or because they can’t get a certain tune out of their head, but because they are aware it might irritate others in the vicinity. He spends a few idle moments narrowing down the options, and when he realises it still leaves him with about half the roster as possibilities kills a few seconds more by wondering if the person in question is going to be dropping in to see him. It’s really not a bet worth taking, even with himself…


…and sure enough the outer door opens. His secretary starts to say something, then stops in the middle of her first word. Clearly this is someone who’s ignored her so many times before she can’t be bothered to continue now…




“Little pig, little pig, let me come in...”


“Will the word ‘no’ actually do me any good?” Flesher responds, crossing to his drinks cabinet. The prospect of a conversation with Toxxic tends to do that to him, not that he really needs an excuse.


“No,” Toxxic answers, opening the door and poking his head round before his body follows suit, “but hey, a bit of levity never hurt anyone.”


“Levity? Is that what you call that abomination of a promo you did last week?” Flesher asks, mind going back to the PowerPoint presentation Revolution Zero used the Smarktron for, “honestly Toxxic, I-” he turns around and sees that actually, it’s not just Toxxic; Austin Sly, The Fabulous Jakey and Amy Stephens are all here as well. “Oh, what, you travel in a pack now?” the SWF’s Commissioner says with a note of resignation in his voice.


“Tom, can you deny us our group camaraderie?” Toxxic asks, while Amy mouths the word ‘camaraderie?’ uncomprehendingly behind his back and Sly inspects the furnishings, “especially since, Tom, you’re going to have us all out there for the main event, handcuffed to the railings!”


“Toxxic,” Tom says, thinking he can see where this is going, “this is the SWF, not some free-for-all indy set-up. Now, I had no problem with you guys beating down on Wild & Dangerous a bit last week because… well, they’re Wild & Dangerous and quite frankly, they’re annoying,” he declares. “But that doesn’t mean I want my company to be plagued by run-ins and inconclusive finishes, so-”


“Name us one match we’ve interfered in,” Austin Sly says, cutting him off. “OK, Jakey beat Landon when MANSON stuck his nose in, but MANSON’s not with us. The ass-kicking we gave him last week should have shown you that,” the Sly One adds with a grin.


“I don’t want my company to start being plagued by run-ins and inconclusive finishes,” Flesher tells him, keeping his voice level with an effort, “so I’m putting preventative measures in for occasions where there’s a previous history. And since you all put the boot in on Wildchild and Johnny last week…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders as if to suggest that there’s absolutely nothing that can be done.


“Hey, what’s this?” Jakey asks, poking something on a shelf.


“That’s my Wrestler of the Year Award,” Flesher snaps, snatching it away from him.


“Oh hey, yeah, I’ve got one of them,” Toxxic grins, sauntering over and peering at it, “I think mine’s bigger though…” Flesher opens his mouth to rebuke him, then hears a glug from behind him and turns to witness a sight of true horror.


“PUT THAT DOWN!” he bellows, striding across his office and whipping the bottle from Amy Stephens’ lips, “do you have any idea how expensive that is?”


“Eurgh, man, that mings,” Amy grimaces, “what the fuck’s that shit?”


“It’s Glenfarclas 17 year-old Scotch whisky!” Flesher hisses, “it does not ‘ming’, but then I wouldn’t expect anything else from someone who drinks Stella Artois!” He rounds on Toxxic. “What do you want?”


“Look Tom, about the main event,” Toxxic starts, “it’s very important you tell the Security monkeys that they cuff my left hand to the barrier,” he points to his left hand, just in case Flesher has forgotten which is which, “not the right,” and he points to the right one, just in case Flesher has a short memory. “You see, I might need the right one,” he points again, probably just to be an arse, “later tonight… if you know what I mean,” he adds with a leer.


“I don’t want to know about that!” Flesher snaps.


“I’M GOING TO BE WRITING A LETTER TO MY DEAR OLD MUM!” Toxxic roars in reply, but is unable to prevent a grin creeping across his face, “Honestly Tom, you’re sick, what the hell did you think I meant-”


“ENOUGH!” Flesher yells, prompting the entire Revolution to cower backwards.






“I might just tell them to cuff both hands to the barrier, to be sure,” Flesher snaps, “but if you haven’t got anything even remotely interesting to say, and I can’t imagine why you’d break the habit of a career now, get out of my office!


“Wild & Dangerous,” Toxxic replies.




“He said, ‘Wild & Dangerous’,” Jakey puts in helpfully.


“I heard what he said,” Flesher replies, not taking his eyes from the straight-edger in front of him, “I just need to know we’re doing more than playing a game of ‘name the tag team’ before I deign to respond.”


They have an open contract,” Austin Sly tells the Commissioner, “we have nothing booked in for Ground Zero, and you need a Tag Title defence organised for the Pay-Per-View.” He shrugs. “Kind of books itself, doesn’t it?”


“How do you know someone else hasn’t already signed that contract?” Flesher sniffs.


“Because I nicked it off your desk just now and checked,” Sly informs him, bringing the clipboard out from behind his back. Tom Flesher rolls his eyes.


“I’m tempted to say no, on the basis that you’re all damn annoying,” Flesher grunts, “but sure, if you fancy being beaten by the married couple again, knock yourselves out.”


“We would, if we did fancy being beaten by them again,” Toxxic tells him as he and Sly produce pens, “but since we don’t, we’ll just settle for knocking them out instead.”


“Toxxic, one more bad pun and I’m ripping that contract up,” Flesher threatens as the two Revolutionaries make their respective marks, then hand it back to the Commissioner. “Now do me a favour for once, and clear off.”


“Jawohl, mein Kapitan,” the Englishman replies, “du hast einen Kopfkase.” And Revolution Zero leave the office, with Tom Flesher staring after them.


“Europeans,” Flesher mutters, and takes an absent-minded mouthful of the Glenfarclas. “Damn, that’s good…”

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Funyon: “And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the House of Marvelous, and your host, Sir Marvelous!”






Sir Marvelous, already in the ring for time constraints, looks at the crowd with disdain.


Marvelous: “I do say, the feeling is mutual. My guest this evening is one of Mr. Bruner’s favorites. Isn’t that right, Mr. Bruner?”


Tracey Bruner stands perfectly still, failing to show any emotion whatsoever.


Marvelous: “He is the reigning SWF International Champion, and in just one week’s time he will unify it with Alan Clark’s World Heavyweight Title. He is ‘The Dean of Professional Wrestling’ … JAAAAAAAAAAAAY HAWWWWWWWWWKE!”






“Learning to Fly” by Pink Floyd comes on the PA, and the International Champion, decked out in a beautiful three piece beige suit, makes his way to the ring.


Francis: “Here is a man who is one week away from the biggest match of his professional career, King.”


King: “Hawke has had a few opportunities at taking that championship before, Mak, but never at as big a stage as Ground Zero. That’s a huge stage and a huge opportunity that I guarantee you he won’t squander.”


Mr. Bruner opens the velvet rope for Hawke, and he makes his way to the set, sitting on the luxurious couch in such a fashion as to assure the International Championship belt is being flaunted.


Marvelous: “Jay, it is one week away. You’ve got your opportunity at becoming the SWF World Heavyweight Champion in what will be the final appearance of that belt that is currently sitting around your waist.”


Hawke: “And a dignified gentleman such as yourself knows exactly how much that championship belt means. It means prestige. It means money.”


Marvelous: “Money’s good.”


Hawke: “Money’s very good. Do you know how much money I made my first month as International Champion?”


Marvelous: “No, I must admit I don’t.”


Hawke: “Over 110,000 dollars. Multiply that by nine months as champion, and that’s 990,000 dollars for one title reign, and that was as what was perceived as a second tier title. Imagine how much I could make as World Champion.”


Marvelous: “The number is potentially incredible.”


Hawke: “But there is one thing that is more important than the money.”


Marvelous: “The women?”


Hawke: “There is that. But I’m talking about the recognition that championship brings you as the best wrestler in the world. For two and a half years, I have been the best technical wrestler in the world. I have been in the match of the night at Genesis two years in a row. But without that championship belt, a lot of people here…the non-believers…think Toxxic or Alan Clark or El Luchador Magnifico or even Landon Maddix must be better because they’ve had that championship belt. So next week, I will take that championship belt from Alan Clark and put it around my waist where it belongs. No more will the SWF be seen as some Mickey Mouse operation. So Clark, bring Donald and Goofy if you want. Bring the Pirates of the Caribbean if you’re so inclined. Have Tinker Bell sprinkle pixie dust on you if you think it will help. Because at Ground Zero, not even Scrooge McDuck’s money will buy you the victory. Prepare to say goodbye to your championship.”


“Learning to Fly” comes over the PA as Sir Marvelous and Jay Hawke stand and shake hands.


King: “Did you hear that, Mak? He sounds ready for action here!”


Francis: “He is clearly focused, King, but Alan Clark is not going to be a pushover.”


King: “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Mak. I’m expecting a fantastic match as part of the main event of Ground Zero. But in the end, who do you really think is going to get the victory?”


Francis: “Whoever gets the three count first.”


King: “Smartass.”


Francis: “More great action still to come after the break.”

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Storm returns to a rumbling Ethias Arena, where Mak Francis and Suicide King chat up the next match. "Well, King. We're about to see a match with a bit of bad blood involved in what could be the first of many clashes between these four."


"That doesn't even begin to describe it," replies King. "On one side you have two of the most awful, freakish excuses for wrestlers I've ever seen, Jimmy The Doom and Fulminatus. And on the other, you have MANSON, Hallowed be His Name, and, of course, Michael Alexander."


"MANSON isn't freakish himself?! But this will be the frst time these four have set foot into the ring as opposing teams. Though, MANSON and Jimmy have a past together, with Doom usually coming out the victor, as well as their run in last year's Lethal Lottery as tag partners of all things! Then we have the New Blood Champ Fulminatus, and the man he defeated for the belt in Alexander, who as we saw last week, is having a very hard time accepting his loss," Mak clarifies." Add to that the simple fact that Winston Churchill is on a roll, while MANSON and Alexander need to come together, and in fact lost last week to a very capable Revolution Zero. One team is looking at a run to the belts, while the other merely looks to even up their tag record."


"MANSON will make Jimmy The Doom history, and that's about it. You can say Jimmy won the battles, but as always, MANSON will win the war. As far as Fulminatus and Alexander go, it's obvious that weirdo tapped! He does not deserve to be champion… hell, I don't think he even knows he's champion. Alexander will eventually make good, I'm sure of it! Especially if any of MANSON's greatness rubs off on him. You can only benefit from association with him.


"Try telling that to Megan Skye, King."


"It wasn't his fault! It was the cowardice of Landon Maddix, that cockroach, and how befitting that name is… he scampered as soon as the heat was on. He forced MANSON into that and it resulted in an unfortunate situation. Landon Maddix has absolutely no one to blame but himself if his girlfriend is accompanying him to Ground Zero in a wheelchair."


“You don't really buy that line, do you?"


"If he says it, it must be so. I just hope you referred Megan to a good wheelchair manufacturer."


Referee Sexton Hardcastle waits in the ring while Funyon enters, raising the mic up to his lips. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the next bout is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! First, making their way down to the ring… at a combined weight of four hundred and twenty pounds…"


Suddenly the lights in the arena are cut and silence reigns on all. Breaking the quiet atmosphere, loud, bombastic orchestral music begins to play. A song so majestic it makes “O Fortuna” seem like elevator music. Bursts of black pyro erupt continuously from the ring posts throughout the song!










“MANSON help us, here they come again…” King groans.


The SmarkTron is filled with images of everything imaginable: atomic bombs erupting, babies crying, emus attempting to fly, an Edsel, the Challenger explosion, a map of San Juan Capistrano, California, the Panama Canal, that video of the bulldog skateboarding, an old man drinking lager, amputees playing snooker, and many other things of a grandiose nature.


More black pyro erupts from the entrance ramp from the ring up to the stage.






The crowd is very confused at this point, having no clue what this overly elaborate entrance is supposed to signify. There are explosions of black pyro everywhere on the stage as the music comes to its climax.










Then as the music fades out from its final triumphant note, the trapdoor on the stage opens up and a huge flock of white doves emerges and heads for the rafters, creating a beautiful spectacle. The Belgian fans cheer wildly as the beautiful display comes to an end.


“Somebody needs to lose their job after okaying this insanity,” King grumbles.


The guy okaying it is the boss, so I don’t think he'll be reprimanding himself," Mak replies. "Still, I can't help but think there's got to be some law against the release of wildlife in enclosed and crowded arena."


As the last few doves emerge from the trapdoor, a huge image fades to the screen of the SmarkTron. The huge grimacing feature of Winston Churchill looms on the screen, its doughy majesty apparent. Suddenly, upon the image a large curly mustache begins to grow from his upper lip and a long pointy beard sprouts from his chin. The eyes also begin to glow bright red in a most eerie manner.


“That still creeps me out,” Mak admits, shuddering slightly.


“The mustache and beard from a Dudley Do-Right cartoon villain knockoff scares you?” King laughs.


“Actually, it’s Winston Churchill.” Mak whispers.




"Winston C-- Nevermind."


"Last I checked ol' Winston didn't have glowing eyes. Or maybe he did. In any case that's MANSON's thing!"


As the image remains, a spotlight illuminates the figure that has risen from beneath the stage. It is of the largest species of rodent, the capybara. It’s name: C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. (Computerized Automaton Processing Yield Benefit Analysis Rodent Abacist), and he looks majestic. Before the crowd has the time to react to the puzzling creature, a shower of gold sparks fall from the ceiling as Tiny Tim begins to sing “Tiptoe Through the Tulips.” From the back, out step Fulminatus and Jimmy The Doom.


“That thing is a menace!” King snarls. “Did you see what that overgrown rat tried to do last week? I barely escaped with my life. I can’t believe they let them bring it out again.”


The two wrestlers proudly, and slowly walk down to the ring, having to keep in step with C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. who is in none to much of a hurry. Jimmy proudly sports the brand new officially licensed Winston Churchill t-shirt, beneath his signature, though little worn leather vest simply covered in fringe. On the back of said vest, there is also the official Winston Churchill logo, with the facial hair fashioned out of vest fringe. To his credit, Fulminatus is also showing team spirit, having the officially licensed Winston Churchill mousepad duct-taped to his chest.


On the SmarkTron, the screen is filled with images of both Jimmy the Doom and Fulminatus modeling the official merchandise for their tag team. In one shot they are sitting at a table both wearing the Winston Churchill t-shirts and drinking from the Winston Churchill coffee mugs. Another shot has them barbecuing, both sporting the Winston Churchill barbecue aprons, with C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. also sporting his. There is even a shot of a clearly male ass wearing the Winston Churchill thong, but it is unclear whose tuckus this might be.


“Gah!” King shrieks in horror. “I can’t believe they kept the thong in the video!”


Mak shields his eyes wisely. “Looks like we should be prepared for this as a regular thing… I guess.”


The three warriors finally make their way down to the ring and Funyon looks at his watch and then continues, “Accompanied by C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A… The NEW BLOOD CHAMPION, FULLLLMINATUS and hailing from Doomopolis, Doomtopia… JIMMY THE DOOOOOOOOOOOM… WINSTOOOOOONNNN CHURRRRRCHILLLLLL!!"




Before entering the ring, Fulminatus leads C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. around by the announcers’ table and attempts to tie his leash to the guardrail. King snarls, “Not over here! Not again! You tie up your giant rat somewhere else, dammit!” Fulminatus looks a little hurt, but dutifully leads C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. to a railing about 15 feet from the announcers’ table.


King sighs in relief. “Thank MANSON! That thing is at least at a safe distance.”


“They really are harmless, King.”


“That’s just what they’d like you to think, Francis. But we need to destroy this… infection before it spreads! Winston Churchill is a bad rash, like the one I got when we were in Tijuana… the worst five bucks I ever spent!"


Funyon blares once again, as Winston Churchill goes about securing their creature to the railing. "And their opponents, weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred and fifty-one pounds…" he booms, as the arena lights drop, cueing a familiar guttural, distorted warbling from the speakers, when…




Devin Townsend's "Ziltoidia Attaxx!!!" kicks off, the thick, heavy tune accompanied by flashing strobes and spotights which roam the arena. The SmarkTron lights up with images of Vitruvian Man interspersed with shots of MANSON and Michael Alexander.


"People of Earth… we are your Ziltoidian overlords…


…resistance… is futile…"


The crowd boos on command as the two enter, with Michael Alexander taking the lead and MANSON following behind, as Funyon continues. "First, from Greenville, South Carolina, USA… MMMMIIIIIIIICHAELLLLL AAAAAALLLLLEXANDERRRRRR! And his partner, hailing from Denver, Colorado, USA… MMMMMMMMAAAAAANNNNNSOOOONNNN!"


While Alexander berates those ringside, MANSON follows along silently, his eyes darting around the arena, taking in the surroundings from behind his mask and chains rattling nonetheless. They each roll into the ring, and while Alexander immediately moves on to their corner, the Messiah pulls out the metal bat from beneath his cloak. He begins stomping about the ring, waving the bat high in the air, while Winston Churchill look on from the outside. Hardcastle manages to calm him down, convincing him to drop it to the outside while Alexander watches with a bemused smirk. Finally MANSON backs away, discarding the mask and cloak, as well, placing both over the post and preparing for the match.


Meanwhile, Jimmy and Fulminatus seemingly confer with C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. about something. “They’re… They’re talking to that thing,” King says in a hushed, almost frightened tone. “MANSON help us all, they’re TALKING TO IT!”


Mak’s eyes widen. “I’m almost inclined to agree with you, King. I mean, we knew these two were not strictly sane, but this…”


“Not strictly sane?! They’re talking to a giant rat! And before this, Jimmy made friends with a damn badger! They call themselves Winston Churchill! Thank MANSON that He’s here to protect us, Francis!”


“I wouldn’t go that far, King.”


“Suit yourself,” King remarks smugly. “That rat is closer to you now anyway, and I’m betting you can’t outrun it.” King scoots his chair just enough to avoid Mak’s inevitable smack. "As for me, I'll stick with the winning team."


MANSON stalks around the ring as Alexander exits, leaving the opening action to the Stampede. Jimmy the Doom and Fulminatus seem to have finished their discussion with their managerial rodent and they climb into the ring. Both men then look inquiringly at C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A., which seems to be fascinated by the apron, chewing on the end. The two men then nod to each other, with Jimmy the Doom stepping out of the ring.


“This is getting more absurd by the second, Francis,” King grumbles. “It’s like they’re looking to that rat for some sort of signal or something.”


“Well…I really don’t know what to tell you, King. It is listed as their manager.”


“WHAT?! Since when do we give managerial licenses to animals anyway.”


Before Hardcastle can even ring the bell, MANSON pounces on Fulminatus with a flurry of blows to the head, neck, and back, basically beating him straight down to the mat. Jimmy appears as if he's ready to come in, but glances as the ringside rodent and nods, remaining in his corner.






"Thank you, MANSON! Hallowed be thy Name!" shouts King, praising the Messiah with his outstretched arms.


“He's definitely starting off in classic form… he's basically pounding Fulmie into the dirt here.”


Fulminatus tries to clamber back to his feet, but the God Machine is utterly relentless, dropping onto Fulminatus' back, pummeling him with a series of punches to the back of the head. The Cruiserweight Chaos Engine covers up with his hands, but soon enough, Hardcastle steps in to warn MANSON about the closed fists. He rises with a snarl directed in Hardcastle's direction, who backs away quickly.


"Hardcastle is thankfully keeping an eye on those fists, and so should MANSON," Mak points out.


"We were all watching those fists," King remarks. "I was happily watching them smash into Fulminatus' skull."


The Raging Bull turns back to Fulminatus, who makes it up to a knee. Grinning wickedly, MANSON grabs and roughly hoists him back up to his feet, locking his arms around the mid-section with a bear hug. The Savage Messiah wrenches the hapless cruiserweight up in the hold up to nearly shoulder height, then plants him down into the mat with a thunderous belly-to-belly slam and going for a pin!






"A kickout by Fulminatus! He's showing a lot of gumption here and is proving to be a tough customer even after all this pounding at the hands of MANSON."


"For the lot of good it'll do him, Mak. He's about a million years too early for this, but like all great deities MANSON does not POUND people. He SMITES them."


MANSON grabs Alexander by the leg, dragging him like a broken doll to his team's corner, where Alexander waits with a smirk of satisfaction on his face. MANSON tags in the Evil Genius, then pins Fulminatus' leg to the mat. Alexander then flips over the top with a Tope Atomico onto the leg! Fulminatus howls in pain and Alexander rolls up to his feet, grinning and posing for the crowd.




"It appears as if MANSON and Michael Alexander have worked a bit on that teamwork thing after their loss to Revolution Zero," Mak observes. "This could be a sign of things to come for these two."


"Last week is a fluke, Mak. The Revolution was able to capitalize on Alexander's inexperience, that's all. All messiahs sometimes have to help their disciples work past their flaws. He will rebuild Alexander… make him better, stronger, faster…"


"That's 'The Six Million Dollar Man' King."


"He'll be worth Six Million when MANSON is through; if the Messiah were to be bound by our rudimentary and outdated monetary system, that is. All he needs to work miracles is MANSONOSITY."


The Deconstruction Dynamo tries to use the ropes to pull himself away from his opponents' corner, but Alexander catches him before he gets to far with a vicious stomp to the back of the head. He pulls Fulminatus' right leg again and drags him closer to the center of the ring, where he steps over the leg, spinning around into a toe hold, but he doesn't stop there. He scissors the leg between his own at the maximum torque, then reaches forward and pulls Fulminatus’ into a front facelock while holding the leg scissors.

Alexander then rolls over onto his right side, maintaining both holds on his opponent. Muffled groans of suffering escape from Fulminatus as he begins flailing his right arm, eventually focusing his efforts on some light and ultimately ineffectual punches to Alexander's ribs.




“Alexander locks in the Ouroboros!” Mak shouts.


“Now tap out, you freak!” King snaps.


Jimmy looks worried, and glances out to C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. Apparently he see something that no one else does in the blank stare of the shuffling rodent, because he bursts into the ring with furious speed and kicks Alexander hard in the spine. The Evil Genius yelps in pain and the hold is loosened enough for the nimble Fulminatus to wriggle free. Referee Hardcastle immediately rushes to get him out of the ring, and Jimmy does so with alacrity.




“Jimmy finally enters the match and breaks up the Ouroboros! But Fulminatus still needs to make that tag.”


King growls. “Bah, they’re just prolonging the inevitable, Francis. MANSON always prevails. These two jokes should just give it up now. Although I hope they don’t, because I love to watch MANSON work.”


Alexander regains his feet quickly after the attack, and notices that Fulminatus is pulling himself up on the ropes, his right leg wobbly. The Mad Scientist drives a series of forearms into the head of his opponent, rocking him. An Irish whip sends Fulminatus stumbling into the far ropes. Alexander goes for a back elbow smash, but the Deconstruction Dynamo seems to stagger under it, and as Alexander turns, he flips over backwards at the Evil Genius, connecting with a knee right to the face! Alexander crumples to the mat as Fulminatus flops down nearly on top of him.




“Alexander missed with that elbow, and Fulminatus, true to form, comes up with a truly unique counter to Alexander’s attack.” Mak nods in appreciation. “You’ve got to at least give him a break on that. Nobody does more off-kilter moves than Fulminatus.”


“Sure, his moveset is just as schizo as the rest of him. I’ll agree to that,” King snipes.


Unfortunately, Fulminatus used his right knee for that impact, and he rolls away holding the back of his leg. Seemingly by luck as by anything else, the Cruiserweight Chaos Engine rolls into his own corner, and Jimmy the Doom reaches down and hits a hot tag!




“The tag is made, and in comes Jimmy the Doom!” Mak slaps the table in excitement.


“It just keeps getting worse…” King groans.


The Straight Bread Sensation leaps in over the top rope and charges at Alexander, who has just regained his feet after being stunned by the backflip knee. Jimmy leaps forward and twists in the air, hitting Alexander squarely in the jaw with the back of his elbow. The Mad Scientist careens to the mat, nearly flipping over completely before he hits. Jimmy pops back up to his feet quickly, screaming a confused jumble of words in no particular order.




“Jimmy with a flying corkscrew elbow! Alexander got turned inside out by that one, King!”


“Not as inside-out as this guy’s English. Hell, even these Belgians can’t understand him!”


As Doom calls for a confused Alexander to stand, MANSON rushes into the ring and goes after Jimmy, but is halted by a thrust kick to the face! MANSON drops down to the mat, covering up his mouth with the inside of his forearm but pops back up to his feet. He stumbles in place, searching frantically for Doom, who appears beside him and grabs him by the wrist. He flings MANSON across the ring, hitting the adjacent ropes and looking to take him down, but out of nowhere Alexander makes the save, cutting Doom off at the pass with a spinning back elbow of his own! As MANSON drops out of the ring, Doom gets up on one knee but Alexander knocks him silly with a charging knee to the side of the head!


"Alexander snuffs the rally as quickly as it began with a knee to the cranium!" shouts Mak, as Doom writhes on the mat.


As Jimmy attempts to roll onto his stomach to push himself up off the mat, Alexander instead grabs him by the ankle and with a strategically placed foot to the back of the knee, stomps him leg first into the mat! As Doom rolls around in pain some more, Alexander chooses to bring him back up this time, whipping him into his team's corner. He follows with a clothesline, opting to keep Doom pinned to the turnbuckle with his arm, then tagging in MANSON!


"And MANSON is back in the ring, no doubt angry after Doom disposed of him earlier."


"It was all his plans, Mak!"


The Messiah drops to the floor, grabbing Doom by the ankles. As Alexander releases him, MANSON trips up Doom, bringing him down to the mat, then pulls him out slightly, leaving his legs dangling on the outside. He next grabs the ankle, yanking on the leg and wrapping the injured appendage around the post!


"This could easily tear up a knee!"


"It certainly could."


"I'm saying that given his history, it looks as if he's trying to seriously injure Doom."


Hardcastle forces Alexander out of the ring in the meantime, while MASNON slides back in. As the Bull distracts the referee just enough, Alexander also drops down and repeats the process, again slamming Doom's leg into the hard steel!


"And Alexander follows up with the same tactic!"


"It's the quickest, most efficient way to get to their goal, after all, so I'm not seeing what the problem is. It only goes to show how best to utilize all portions of the ring. You weren't adverse to it when you could walk anyway."


"You tend to see things differently when someone puts you in a wheelchair."


"In any case they're rather indiscriminate with this strategy. No matter who you are it'll have an effect, so I can't say I disagree."


Doom hobbles up to his feet while MANSON sidesteps Hardcastle and make a dive, clipping Jimmy at the knee! He collapses down to the mat and MANSON goes for a cover.






"Shoulder up!" shouts Mak.


MANSON stands and staring down at Doom, he begins laying in soccer kicks to the sides, the toe of his boot driving deep into the ribs of his opponent. Doom rolls away from the assault, but makes a mistake in turning his back to the Stampede, who charges forth…




-and punts him in the spine! Jimmy cringes from the impact, but again…




-he lays in another kick to the back!




-and hits another for good measure.


Jimmy falls to his side, reaching for Fulminatus clear across the ring, but instead, MANSON pulls him up again…








-and lays in three more quick ones to the lumbar!


"He's going to town on a prone Jimmy right now, laying in those kicks with abandon!" says Mak as Jimmy falls off to the side once more. "But what happened to the teamwork and strategy earlier, is this MANSON letting his temper take hold once again?! Wait!" shouts Mak. "Here comes another cover!"






"And another shoulder up!"


"Well, whether it's the knee, or the back, if you manage to critically damage either one then you're done for. If you take away both, then you're super done for."


"Super done for?!"


"That's twice the done for."


"And it was some decent analysis until you said it, too."


Grabbing hold of Doom's leg, MANSON pulls him back over to his corner, where he tags in Alexander once again and releases Doom. Alexander grips the top rope and prepares to vault in much like before. However, this time as he launches himself, Doom gets his left leg up and catches the Mad Scientist with a boot to the back of the head!


"And Jimmy may get out of this before too much damage is done! MANSON made a critical mistake in not securing Doom!"


"He works in mysterious ways, Mak."


"In actuality, this has long been one of his problems inside the ring, and if Alexander doesn't recover and Jimmy tags in a fresh Fulminatus, this may turn into another losing effort!"


Alexander stumbles about the ring, searching for his bearings, as Jimmy crawls closer and closer to Fulminatus, who reaches out for the tag! However, unbeknownst to everyone, a freight train steps into the ring and charges straight at Fulminatus, knocking him off the apron with a Lariat in an instant!




"He just stormed across the ring and prevented the tag to Fulminatus! That must be a disqualification!"


"That’s only if he disobeys Hardcastle's instructions to get out."


Hardcastle attempts to regain order by directing MANSON out of the ring, who instead grabs Doom by the leg and forcefully yanks him back into their territory. As he finally exits and Hardcastle returns back to the action, he finds Alexander staggering toward Doom. The Evil Genius grabs Jimmy by the leg and despite Doom's attempts to fight back, turns him over into a half Boston crab!


"When MANSON dragged Doom back to their corner he should have been DQ'd but we all know Hardcastle isn't the most scrupulous of officials."


"It just means he knows his place when in the ring with MANSON and Alexander."


"Now Alexander now has that half crab locked in tight!"


As Alexander sits back, Doom screams in agony, but struggles for the ropes still. Pushing up off his hands, he attempts to gain leverage, but finds none as the Professor of Pain only sinks his weight and sits deeper into the hold, always keeping a firm grip on the leg of Jimmy as he does so.


"He still has the hold locked on, but as all know Jimmy is tough, being the longest reigning Hardcore Champion of all time, so he can put up with this."


"Even if he fights out of it now he won't be long for this world. Turn out the lights, he's done!"


While Jimmy keeps struggling, grunting as he reaches for the ropes in between yelps of pain from the wrenching hold, Alexander continually positions his body, as well, keeping Jimmy away from the ropes. On the apron, the Messiah looks on with a smug and satisfied expression, as Alexander keeps Doom firmly in the middle of the ring.


"Regardless, he's still not giving it up, King, despite having his knee wrenched and continually exhausting himself by trying to get to the ropes."


Finally, having had enough, Alexander stands and turns Doom back over. Jimmy goes for a kick, narrowly missing Alexander, who keeps Doom in his grasp. Then, dropping back, he plants the injured leg of Doom into the mat!


"He impacts Doom's leg straight into the hard mat with a DDT! That's a good way to do some real damage to the knee."


Doom lets out a yelp and grabs his knee, when suddenly…


"What the hell is that thing doing in the ring?!" shouts King, as C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A runs into the ring, circling around Alexander's feet as the Evil Genius attempts to dance away from the creature.


"I have no idea, but… wait, where's Fulminatus?!" Mak asks, as right then, he crawls out from underneath the ring and slides inside.


While Hardcastle's back is turned, he first goes toward MANSON, knocking him off the apron in retaliation. He then heads for Alexander and grabs him by the back of the head, impacting him face first against his knees as he drops down back first to the mat. Alexander falls back, grabbing his jaw, as Fulminatus drags Doom back across the ring to his corner. After Hardcastle succeeds in tying C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A back up to the rail, he turns as Doom makes the tag to Fulminatus!


"Tag in to Fulminatus! Tag in to Fulminatus!"


"You support this nonsense?! Fulminatus clearly used that thing as a distraction! It's unfair! It's wrong!"


Hardcastle singnals the tag as Fulminatus jumps into the ring, looking for Alexander as he stands back up and hitting a jawbreaker which again stuns Alexander! MANSON steps into the ring steaming and goes for Fulminatus, but receives a dropkick to the face, sending him rolling out of the ring. While Alexander dances around the ring, the Chaos Engine sends him to the ropes and on the rebound, leaps up and catches him with a headscissors, taking him over with the Seek ye the Eye of the Hurricanrana!


"Fulminatus is taking this match into his own hands now, King!"


"I hate this! It's not fair!"


Again Alexander comes up dazed and confused, and placing him in a standing headscissors, Fulminatus signals to the crowd.




He wraps his arms around Alexander's waist, preparing to lift him up, but again MANSON comes into the ring, and charging toward Alexander, rolls forward and boots him in the face with his heel!


"Koppou Kick! MANSON makes contact with a Koppou Kick!" screams Mak, as Fulminatus goes down, releasing Alexander and clutching his nose. "This thing is breaking down, Hardcastle has lost control!"


"And once again MANSON saves the day!"


As MANSON stands and looms over Fulminatus near the ropes, in comes Jimmy The Doom, who takes himself and his opponent onto the floor with an over the top clothesline!


"They both spill out to the outside!"


Inside the ring, Fulminatus stands, as does Alexander, who is first to attack as he heads for the Chaos Engine. However, Fulminatus has a plan, as he pins the arms of Alexander back with his feet and stretches out over the ropes, grabbing the legs as he dangles outside.


"TARANTULA BY FULMINATUS!" shouts Francis, as Alexander screams.


"But he has to release this before five," King explains.










Fulminatus releases the hold and as Alexander drops to his knees, he begins ascending the turnbuckle. On the outside, after both Doom and MANSON come to, he and Jimmy exchange fists before a well placed kick to the knee by MANSON! Doom reacts by grabbing his leg, which enables a whip…




-right into the steel steps, as Jimmy collides knees first!




Fulminatus is distracted by the loud clang and the sight of his tag partner lying on the outside, which enables enough time by Alexander to recover as he disrupts Fulminatus, crotching him on the turnbuckle! Wrapping an arm around Fulminatus' head, Alexander takes him off the turnbuckle…


"DDT OFF THE TOP!" shouts Mak in disbelief. "He just got spiked!"


"See?! What did I tell you, Mak?!" King asks smugly, as Alexander goes for the pin.














"A DDT off the top and some of lady luck gets the win for MANSON and Alexander!"


"They don't need luck when you have MANSONOSITY and the skills of Alexander!"


"In any case, they beat out the other new team of Fulminatus and Jimmy The Doom in impressive fashion, in what's sure to be a landmark moment for this new partnership," says Mak, as MANSON heads back into the ring for the celebration.

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In the winddown phase from another crazy Winston Churchill match (lol... Winston Churchill... funny), MANSON and Michael Alexander are left in the ring. Which isn't the cause of the increased volume of murmuring around the arena, slowly turning into cheers from some sections. The section that can see what's going on, as most of the fans are being moved aside, trying to get out of the way as LANDON MADDIX has made his way through the crowd and jumps the barrier!!




"Are we on!?" Mak hurriedly asks to the production guys in his earpiece, apparantly getting his answer as he then shouts, "LOOK OUT! ALL HELL IS GONNA BREAK LOOSE!"


Landon slides into the ring before Alexander or MANSON can figure out what the Belgian crowd's noise is in reference to. It's Alexander who reacts first, but The Mad Scientist Of The Mat takes a quick shot from Maddix, on his way after his real target. Now hearing the cheers, not to mention the sound of his partner being bumped to the canvas, MANSON wheels around and gets tackled to the ground, Maddix mounting him and raining down with a flurry of wild lefts and rights!!!


"What the hell is this!?" screams King over the roaring crowd.


"This is payback! And they're a bitch for MANSON!"


With the crowd routing on Maddix to extract all the revenge he can for MANSON's attack on Megan Skye last week, Michael Alexander quickly recovers and sees his partner in trouble, diving over and tackling Maddix off of him. Landon quickly kicks Alexander off. But by that time MANSON is out of the ring, arms flailing wildly as he seems to be caught in two minds over whether to dive back in or run for the exits. Sliding out of the ring, Alexander takes control of the situation and helps guide MANSON up the aisle, little resistance shown from MANSON as he watches the street-clothed Landon taking a microphone from the outside.



"Congratulations! You have FINALLY crossed the god-damn line!"


Pinning the microphone under his armpit, Landon gives a mock round of applause, MANSON still looking a little flustered about the sudden attack.


"You know, I've had to put up weeks of questions, 'why didn't you accept MANSON's challenge?' 'Why don't you wanna face MANSON?' 'Are you afraid of MANSON?' Maybe I ought to be, sure. But plain and simple, the reason I kept turning you down and turning you down was simple. Because I damn well could! But now... see, now, things are getting out of hand all of a sudden. Turns out MANSON isn't the harmless, 'ranting and raving about absolute crap' kinda psycho that pretty much comprises half of the undercard in the SWF, oh no. Turns out you're a little more dangerous than I gave you credit for. A little more unbalanced than even I expected."


Confirming as much, MANSON nods. Seemingly waiting for Landon to get to the point. The point he wants, that he's wanted all along.


"Don't worry, I'm not out here to 'cry the blues'. I brought this all on myself after all. See, when you turn up at your hotel after heading out for fresh croissants to find out your closest friend's been basically kidnapped and dragged to an arena to get dropped on her head, you can't but feel you should have seen it coming. I see you all nodding out there. You've all been there."


MANSON looks a little annoyed at his adversary's ability to still see some sort of funny side to all this. No matter how forced and sarcastic it may seem.


"See, I'm not the tunnel-vision obsessive that you are. I am pissed, believe me. Uber pissed. Believe it or not, I've been to the kind of depths you ended up plumbing last week. Attacking women, drawing loved ones out into your traps, manipulating people to get what you want? Been there, done that. Little ol' me. Yep. So in all good conscience, I can't come out here and run you down for what you did to Megan... completely... considering my past. You know, I guess you could say this whole situation is karma at work. Well see MANSON, that's all well and good. But 'karma' already kicked my ass a long time ago and snapped me out of all that psycho crap to the error of my ways. And now, it's your turn. Karma might not be a skinny emo Limey this time, but it will kick your ass all the same, I can guarantee you that!


MANSON's eyebrows perk up a little.


"It is officially ON." Landon announces, finally prompting a sick smile from MANSON as he now realises for sure he's got what he wanted. "At Ground Zero, I'm going to defend my Hardcore Title like a Hardcore Gamers Champion should. And I know what you're thinking, 'Oh, look at Landon Maddix trying to be the big, bad vengeful ass-kicker Hardcore Champion, how adorable'. But this isn't about the title. It's never been about the title. I'm going to do to you what I'll do for two reasons. One, for Megan. And two, because you need it. You need some sense kicked, punched, forearmed, chopped, low-blowed, chairshotted, table-spotted, lighttube smashed, thumbtacked pierced or otherwise miscellaneously beaten into you!"




"So, congratulations. You've won. I just hope it was worth it."


Practically licking his lips, MANSON doesn't exactly seem all that worried by the threats, still delighted he's finally got what he wanted. Landon drops the mic and wipes the hair from his face, staring at the man he's agreed to face at Ground Zero.

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Welcome back,” Mak Francis greets the viewers, “and we’re just about ready for our main event! Tonight, Johnny Dangerous will be looking for a measure of revenge against Revolution Zero as he takes on the SWF Cruiserweight Champion; the Fabulous Jakey!”


“Well he will have Wildchild with him at ringside,” adds King, “but on the other hand, Jakey will have all of Revolution Zero at ringside. Unfortunately, those who are not actually involved with the match will be handcuffed to the railings to prevent them from interfering in this match.”


“It’s definitely an interesting added bonus for the match, but I’m starting to wonder if we’re just bidding our time until someone breaks free and makes their presence felt on the match,” adds Francis. “It’s almost like we’re asking for it to happen.”


“Nobody is asking for anything!” snaps King. “They’re going to be handcuffed out here so we can keep our watchful eye fixed on that scheming Bahaman.”


“Yes, I’m sure that’s the man we need to watch out for,” Mak sarcastically agrees with the Gambling Man. “However, I think it’s time for us to send this one over to our ring announcer Funyon, who is standing by!”




The sounding of the timekeeper’s bell draws all the attention towards the ring where Funyon is standing. Slowly, the colossal light structure hanging over head dims it’s lights as a single spotlight shines down on the ring announcer.


“Ladies and gentlemen,” bellows Funyon. “The following match is tonight’s MAIN EVENT~ and it will be for one fall! Introducing first…”


Funyon’s voice trails off only slightly before-






As expected, the crowd is already booing as the ‘REV-0’ logo appears on the Smarktron and the lights steadily dim down… and then the main guitar riff kicks in.










…and as the pyro goes off and Zack de la Rocha’s voice roars out, out come Revolution Zero! One by one, all four members of the group emerge from behind the curtains, which is lead by the Fabulous Jakey( seeing as how it’s his match ) with Austin Sly in caboose… pulling a red Radio Flyer wagon behind him.


“What in God’s green earth,” Mak mutters as both announcers look on in bewilderment at the sight of Revolution Zero pulling around a wagon. Even more for the sheet draped over it to presumably conceal whatever the payload happens to be (which seems to be at least several large boxes) and the rather tacky Revoltion Zero logo scribbled on the sheet, “-and it couldn’t have been made with anything more high tech than a black King Size permanent marker,” Francis speculates. King nods in agreement.


“From Minneapolis, Minnesota,” booms Funyon, “and being accompanied to the ring by Toxxic, Austin Sly and Amy Stephens. He is the CURRENT and REIGNING SWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION; the FAAAAAABULOUUSSS JAAAAKEEEEEYYYY!!”







Revolution Zero heads towards the ring but is stopped just before reaching the ring by a plethora of referees. There sole mission for this evening is to ensure that this match goes on and off without a hitch, and they intend to make sure that happens exactly to plan! Each member of Revolution Zero is sequestered and rigorously searched.


“I’m not sure what they’re expecting to find on Revolution Zero except for maybe a few personal items and a pack of chewing gum,” Suicide King confidentially says. Just then the referee checking Toxxic pulls out a handcuff key, but Stephens innocently puts his hands up as the referee questions him.


“Personal items and a pack of chewing gum?” Mak mockingly asks. “Just look at the floor around them,” he finishes, pointing towards the ground next to the Revolution Zero members. The cameras zoom in to show all the various items Referees have retrieved from Revolution Zero members. Keys, mace, cherry bombs, bolt cutters and a banana.


“A banana?”


“Don’t ask me,” replies King, looking very much like he wants nothing to do with that. “I don’t even want to know what they were planning to do with that.”


“Well, regardless, the three members of Revolution Zero that aren’t involved with this match will be handcuffed to the rails,” notes Mak, “and to make sure they stay that way there will be several security guards watching them the whole time. What I want to know, though, is what in the heck is in that wagon and how come that hasn’t been checked?”


“Don’t you know the law Mak? You have to have reasonable suspicion to search someone’s vehicle.”


“A wagon is a vehicle?”


“You ride in it don’t you?”


“Oh, come on!” shouts Mak. “Besides, if you ask me, I say that sheet covering what ever is in the wagon makes it pretty darned suspicious to me!”


“Nobody asked you, Christopher Reeves!”


Finally, the members of Revolution Zero (minus Jakey) are handcuffed to the metal rails of the crowd barricade, with the wagon located in perfect reaching distance of all three. However, looming over each of them is the ominous presence of three security guards (rent-a-cops) that promise to keep this ragtag group of misfits under control.


Inside the ring, Jakey stands, patiently waiting the arrival of his opponent. That moment finally comes as the lights dim once more, and the crowd immediately jumps to their feet, exploding with cheers! A video begins displaying an image of a fuse fizzling down towards a stick of dynamite, and the Mission Impossible theme starts ringing out around the arena. Just before the music swings into full gear to launch the crowd into a frenzy-




-a deep, sultry voice breathes the name of the SWF’s secret agent over the speakers then-




-the music hits as an explosion of pyro literally rocks the entrance stage! Finally, through all the vibrant lights and the cloud of smoke comes not just the Barracuda, but both members of Wild and Dangerous, silhouetted by the strobes with occasional flashes reflecting off Johnny’s high-tech shades as he turns his head from side-to-side, looking out at his crowd!







“And his opponent,” bellows Funyon. “From Las Vegas, and accompanied to the ring by the Wildchild! He is one half of the CURRENT AND FIVE-TIME REIGNING SWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS. HE IS JOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDA’ DANGEROUS!”


Johnny storms towards the ring as WC heads around to receive his shackling. After a quick check he’s cuffed to the rails on the opposite side of the ring. Ronald ‘Red’ Herrington then signals for the bell to begin this match…




…but Dangerous seems to be too preoccupied with Revolution Zero to notice. He leans over the top rope, pointing at Toxxic while shouting words that would have your mother reaching for the nearest bar of soap.


“He’d better worry about the match and leave those other guys be,” says King, as Jakey tiptoes his way in behind the Barracuda, Stephens sees him and continues egging Dangerous on, and even with the fans howling their warnings Johnny never even detects the Cruiserweight Champion until he reaches between the Barracuda’s legs and rolls him over with a school boy! Herrington quickly drops down and counts for:






NO! Dangerous manages to roll his shoulder off the mat, saving himself some face for now.


“Jesus! Johnny almost gave this match away by letting himself get distracted by Revolution Zero,” says Mak. “He’d better stop worrying about them and worry about the match or he’s going to find himself staring up at the lights in a hurry!”


“Which would be a fitting end to this so called vengeance of Dangerous’ anyway,” King finishes. Johnny quickly rolls up to his feet while Jakey backs up a little to give himself some room, which proves to be smart as Johnny immediately charges for the Cruiserweight Champion. Johnny tries to level the smaller man with a lariat but Jakey quickly hooks Dangerous’ arm and with a quick pop of the hips he sends his opponent to the mat with a textbook armdrag, which prompts a rousing round of cheers and applause from the Revolution Zero members!




The fans let Jakey know exactly how they feel about that, but it doesn’t deter the Cruiserweight Champion in the least. Again Dangerous charges for the Cruiserweight Champion and like before, Jakey hooks the Barracuda’s arm and tries to send him to the mat with another armdrag, but this time Johnny keeps his feet planted on the ground. He quickly headbuts Jakey and with his arm hooked around the Fabulous One’s arm he pulls him back towards him and-




-Johnny slams his forehead into Jakey’s again, getting a loud pop from the crowd! He releases the Cruiserweight Champion and Jakey staggers backwards, reeling from the blows. Johnny grabs his arm and then steps forward, whipping Jakey across the ring and into the corner post! His back slams into the unforgiving steel and then he stumbles out of the corner as Dangerous starts to charge towards him and-






-Johnny is suddenly stopped dead in his tracks as an egg comes flying into the ring and hits him directly in the face!


“What the heck?! Someone just egged the Barracuda in the face!” shouts Mak.


“I think that someone might be Revolution Zero,” King says. Lying on the floor is the sheet that previously covered the Revolution Zero wagon, and in the wagon itself is an assortment of various items, including but not limited too: egg cartons, milk cartons, water bottles, and even a case of beer!


“That must be Amy’s,” King speculates. Mak nods.


Herrington heads to the edge of the ring where Revolution Zero stands, admonishing them for the tossing of the egg, but all three of them profess their innocence, and since Herrington didn’t actually witness the throw he can’t do much about it.


“Even though all three members of Revolution Zero have been handcuffed to the rails, they’ve still found away to cause havoc on this match,” says Mak. “Why can’t they just watch like Wildchild?”


At the mention of the Bahama Bomber, the cameras show him. WC is standing by and watching the match unfold like any good man should. (Wildchild does have a mammoth security guard hovering over him.) He hollers at Johnny to remain calm, urging him not to do anything crazy after getting hit with an egg.


As the match continues, Jakey is getting up after having a little time to gather his bearings and Johnny is tossing a towel out of the ring after wiping his face with it. The two men begin to circle one another and then come together with a classic collar-and-elbow tie up! Being the stronger of the two, Johnny easily takes control of the lock up and then powerfully shoves the Cruiserweight Champion back! Jakey stumbles backwards and falls to the canvas, which gets a thunderous cheer from the crowd.




Jakey gets back up--his confidence undeterred—and heads back for his opponent, “-and I hope he has a better plan of action then trying to outmuscle the Barracuda,” says Mak. “That’s assuredly a no win situation for him.”


“You just watch, Jakey has something up his sleeve,” King responds.


The Cruiserweight Champion rushes towards Dangerous, ducking an attempted lariat from the Barracuda, and rolls around behind him. When Johnny spins around he’s quickly met with a boot to the gut, forcing the wind out of his lungs. Jakey grabs him by the arm and sends Dangerous across the ring with an Irish whip! Johnny hits the ropes and rebounds for the Fabulous One, who suddenly bellies out, letting the Barracuda float over him and continue to the opposite ropes. Jakey jumps to his feet and anticipating Johnny’s return from the ropes he jumps up and extends both feet out for a drop kick! Unfortunately, Johnny hooks both arms around the top rope to stop him from bouncing off them and the Cruiserweight Champion hits nothing but air before crashing down quite embarrassingly on his tail!


“Jakey’s running off of adrenalin there, trying to anticipate the movements, but he has to wait until he sees his opponent,” says Mak. Jakey hurriedly rolls back up to his feet, but when he does stand he’s mowed down by a lariat! Johnny quickly reaches down and pulls his opponent back up to his feet and then pulls him into a front face lock…


“Oh no, not this stupid Triple Agent,” mutters King.


…but that’s exactly what the Barracuda is looking for. He raises his arm out to the fans and unleashes a battle cry that gets a huge pop in response… and then he just barely ducks out of the way as another egg goes whizzing past his face!




“God damn it! They’re really starting to get on my nerves,” hisses Francis. Johnny points his finger in accusing fashion at Toxxic, just before an open water bottle hits him square between the eyes!


“At least they have good aim,” says King.


“Oh, shut up.”


Finally, the Barracuda has had enough! He rolls out of the ring and heads over towards Funyon. After ordering the ring announcer out of his seat he takes the steel folding chair and closes it up with a loud clang! The crowd is really going now while Herrington hollers from the ring at Johnny to get back in and put the chair down.


“He’d better do what that referee says,” warns King, but right now that’s the last thing Johnny is about to do. He heads over towards Revolution Zero… but is cut off by their team of security guards.


“I knew those guys would come in handy.”


However, with the cats away the mice come out to play. Revolution Zero takes advantage of their moment of not being watched. Austin reaches into the wagon and produces several lock picks that were stashed inside one of the egg cartons and hands them out to Toxxic and Amy.


“This isn’t looking good,” says Mak. “We’re about to have World War Three out here!”


The security guards turn Johnny away, but when they turn back around to do their jobs of watching over Revoltuion Zero-






-Austin swings the wagon out and hits all three guards in the head with the spinning attack. Eggs, water bottles and everything else goes flying everywhere. Needless to say, Revolution Zero is freed. Johnny heads in after them…


“Johnny Dangerous is about to be out numbered four to one as his partner, Wildchild is still shackled to the… Hey! Where the heck is Wildchild?”


Everyone looks over to where WC is supposed to be and much to the surprise of everyone, he is gone! The handcuff dangles from the railing and Steve, WC’s security guard is sprawled out on the concrete floor!


“He must have escaped during all the commotion,” Suicide King suggests. “So much for being the shining example!”

Near the corner of the ring on the outside floor, Johnny Dangerous fights the odds valiantly(or stupidly as some would say) but it’s a no win situation for him as the group easily beats him into the ground!







“This is supposed to be Johnny Dangerous’ revenge!” Mak angrily shouts. As the beating continues WC finally appears from under the ring and slides into the ring. He heads for the corner post and climbs up with the crowd cheering him on.


“Oh no, now he’s going to get involved in the mix!”


When the Rev-Zero members turn around is when WC moonsaults himself off the post, into the four members-






“Wildchild just took down Revolution Zero! This looks like some kind of a six car pileup out there now!”


WC gets up and lays punches into anything that moves before grabbing Johnny and helping him back to the ring for safety. He then grabs Toxxic and rolls him under the bottom rope before following after.


“I think Herrington has ended the match, declaring a no contest, but I don’t think these guys care at all!”


WC pulls Toxxic to his feet, but Amy Stephens charges into the ring to save her brother… but she’s suddenly scooped off the mat by Johnny, “-he’s going for it on Amy Stephens!” shouts Mak, as Johnny lifts her up, looking for the MI Slam!








“I can’t believe Johnny just MI Slammed a woman! What kind of crap is that?!” King exclaims.


“She’s been fighting men her entire time in this federation, King!” Mak loudly responds. “Don’t start some man on woman violence now!”


Amy rolls out of the ring and Johnny turns his attention on Toxxic. He pulls the Straight-Edged Sensation to his feet and sends across the ring with an Irish whip as the Wildchild rushes towards the ropes and Dangerous crouches slightly to catch Stephens with a back body drop on the return. Toxxic hits the ropes… and then falls, face-first to the mat, when Austin suddenly reaches under the bottom rope and grabs his partner by his ankle!




“Fast thinking by Austin,” says King. “If he hadn’t interfered Toxxic would have become victim to the Silver Bullet!”


Austin drags Toxxic out of the ring, and with Jakey grabbing Amy all four Rev-Zero members head towards the walkway to leave ringside. Finally, Wild and Dangerous’ theme kicks up as they stand at the edge of the ring holler back at Revolution Zero, and daring them to come back to the ring.


“Revolution Zero is backing out of the fight now, but they’ve signed Wild and Dangerous’ open contract,” says Mak, “and at Ground Zero we will see these two teams square off for the Tag Team Championship!”


“You can bet your bottom dollar that the reign of Wild and Dangerous’ is going to end,” says King. “Nobody that’s foolish enough to have an open contract remains champion long.”


“We shall see, King, but the Tag Team Championship match is the most anticipated match of Ground Zero so it can’t all be bad,” says Mak. “That show is coming up next week on pay per view, so check your local cable providers for details on how to order, and we’ll see you there. For the Suicide King, this is Mak ‘The Franchise’ Francis signing off, and you’ve been watching SWF Storm!”


A final shot shows Wild and Dangerous standing triumphantly together in the ring, with the Tag Titles over their shoulders…



As we:



©2007 Smartmarks Wrestling Federation

'Raising Workrate By Hitting People Harder'

Edited by chirs3

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