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SWF STORM - 8/30/2007

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...
SWF STOOOOORM!
Live, Wednesday, August 29th, from the Sommet Center in Nashville, Tennessee!
(7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings)
(Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3)


nashville_gaylord1.jpg

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

THE MAIN EVENT - SWF WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP CONTENDERS MATCH
Michael Alexander vs. Johnny Dangerous

--> In recent weeks, Michael Alexander has beaten... oh, let's see here... something like EVERYONE EVER. Spike Jenkins, Landon Maddix, Jimmy the Doom - all top tier contenders in the SWF, and all of them have fallen before the Mad Scientist of the Mat. We've been searching for an opponent for Alan Clark's midterm defense, and Michael Alexander just may be it.

If he can overcome one last hurdle.

On the other side of this match is Johnny Dangerous - he fell short of his goal in the final International Championship match, and has been chomping at the bit ever since - in recent weeks, both his words and his actions have shown he won't be satisfied until he has Alan Clark's head on a platter!

One exceptionally talented rookie and one incredibly determined vet do battle for the right to face our World Champion in one week's time!
Rules: Singles.

-=-=-=-

SINGLES MATCH
Alan Clark © vs. Ghost Machine

--> I wonder - did Disney have anything to do with The Iron Giant? That guy wasn't a ghost, but he was definitely a machine, so that would be kind of a neat coincidence. To have the Disney Guy and... and a machine, you know... if... er...

... yeah.
Rules: Singles.

-=-=-=-

SWF STABLES CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH - HANDICAP MATCH
Revolution Zero (Toxxic, Austin Sly, The Fabulous Jakey) ©© vs. Chris Raynor ©

--> Tom Flesher is an asshole. Nevertheless, he claims Raynor renegged on the agreement made upon his return! And according to stupid technicalities and long forgotten fine print, Chris Raynor was - and still is - a holder of the long since retired Stables Title! As such, Tom is now forcing Raynor to put his one legit claim to fame on the line, against the single most dominant stable the SWF has seen in some time! Is Raynor's final entry in the record books about to be overwritten, or can he somewhow pull off a miracle win?
Rules: Handicapzzzz. One man in for Rev-0 at a time. Be gentle. :P

-=-=-=-

SINGLES MATCH
"Hollywood" Spike Jenkins vs. Nathaniel Kibagami

--> Requestified.
Rules: Singles.

-=-=-=-

Oh the Whiskey Ain't Workin' Anymore Match - Hardcore Championship
Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix © vs. Danny Dagda

--> Landon Maddix had a little fun at Tom Flesher's expense last show, and while I think we can all agree that it was worth it now, I'm not sure if Landon will still think it was worth it after this match. Especially when you consider that Dagda outweighs Landon by a decent amount, and can therefore probably hold his liquor a little better. :cheers:
Rules: Hardcore, with a twist - after every near fall, both competitors must drink a shot of Southern Comfort (100 proof).

-=-=-=-

SINGLES MATCH
MANSON vs. Jesse James Sanders ©

--> Editified.
Rules: Singles.

-=-=-=-

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As Storm returns, the house lights dim across the board, and the blues-rock sounds of 'Blue on Black' by Kenny Wayne Shepard begins…

 

"Welcome back to Storm, we have a big night, including the Hardcore Championship being defended against Danny Dagda and a World Heavyweight Championship Contender's Match, but we're gonna get things started with Jesse James Sanders versus Manson!"

 

"I'm not one go give baseless rumors any play, especially where it concerns the Messiah, but where was he last week? I'm not one to give this any credibility, but there is talk of a falling out with his partner in Slaughterhouse/Five, Michael Alexander... not that I believe any of that, of course."

 

"Well, Alexander did pin Landon Maddix and was chosen for this opportunity tonight, and with the way Manson holds a grudge, who knows."

 

"If there is any truth to it, I'm sure Manson will take it upon himself to soothe things over."

 

"Yeah, right."

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the following is a singles bout scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, hailing from Lawrence, Kansas, and weighing in at two hundred and sixty-eight pounds… JESSE JAMES SAAAAAAAANNNDERS!" booms Funyon, as the crowd comes to their feet.

 

"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

 

Sanders come out to a good response from the Nashville crowd, and with a small smile on his face, he heads to the ring, slapping hands along the way. He slides in and immediately the arena lights drop, cueing a guttural, distorted warbling from the speakers, as images of the cosmos interspersed with shots of Manson begin on the SmarkTron.

 

"BBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

Then a final growl kicks 'Scientific Remote Viewing' by Cephalic Carnage into gear, as flashing strobes begin to pulse and spotlights roam the arena, while smoke pours out over the stage. Scenes of violence, wanton destruction, and Manson, whose eyes glow red with a maddening fury, as lightning crackles around his person, obviously due to edits, continue on the big screen. The curtain parts and out comes the disguised form of the Messiah, who begins making his way down to the ring amidst the jeer of the fans.

 

"And his opponent, hailing from Denver, Colorado, and weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds… MMMAAAAANNNNSOOOONNNNN!"

 

He strides down the aisle in silence, the occasional clang and rattle of steel chains being the only sound coming from his person, as he keeps his eyes fixed on the ring. He slides into the ring, pulling out the crooked bat from beneath his cloak as he stands, but he's immediately halted by the referee, who forces him to discard the instrument. He steps back into his corner, dropping the bat over the top, then shedding the mask and cloak, placing both over the post, as Manson bolts from his corner.

 

*DING DING!*

 

"It should be a competitive one, and the question has to be, will Manson find some way to deal with Jesse's strength," speculates Mak, as Manson catches the unaware Sanders with a right hand.

 

"AAAAAAAAH!"

 

"YEEEEAARGH!"

 

"AAAAAAAAH!"

 

Yes, then Sanders drops to his knees, covering his face and screaming in terror. His eyes rolling back into his head, he suddenly stops yelping, as his arms drop and he looks up at the sky. Suddenly, the atmosphere around his person shatters, as an endless void appears!

 

"What?!"

 

"You know what this is, Mak! It's the return of... MANSONOSITY!

 

"It... It looks like he's ripped open a hole in space... time, as it were. It's the very fabric of reality and all that we know that he's punched through!"

 

"It's all he knows, Mak, and only he, for you can't comprehend it! Is he awesome, or what?!"

 

In the blink of an eye, Sanders disappears into that infinitesimal nothingness... all that he ever was, gone in an instant. As quickly as it was pierced, that hole into the unknown closes, and it's over! Oh, God, is it ever over!

 

*DING DING!*

 

Manson ascends into the air, hovering for a moment before flying toward the back. Everyone bows their heads, praising his deed and offering reverence out of respect and fear, as we fade.

 

 

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“Raynor.”

 

Chris Raynor looks around. Four figures are approaching down the corridor, and old instincts make him casually rest his bag on the ground to free up both hands. This won’t be the last time he meets this crowd tonight.

 

“Toxxic,” he nods cautiously to the man who’s spoken. “What can I do for you?”

 

“Chris, it’s three-on-one tonight,” Toxxic says without any preamble. “I mean, I was half hoping that one or two of your old Carnie mates would show up, make it a bit of a fight… well, old Carnies, anyway,” he corrects himself, the realisation that maybe Raynor doesn’t have any old Carnie mates anymore beginning to dawn. Either that, or it was a cheap jibe, take your pick. “Anyway,” the Englishman continues, “I probably don’t need to tell you that you’re up against the Tag Champs and the Cruiserweight Champ, and you haven’t exactly made a splash since you’ve come back. Odds are, one of us could beat you by himself.”

 

Raynor eyes Toxxic as the straight-edger smiles faintly.

 

“Two of us would take you down, fast. Three? You’re gonna be mincemeat, sunshine. But that’s no fun, that’s not a challenge, there’s no point to it. Flesher can’t even be thinking to get a decent match out of this, he’s just set it up out of spite. So,” the grin widens, “I’ve never liked the bugger, so maybe we should spite him.”

 

“What did you have in mind?” Raynor asks warily.

 

“Simple,” Toxxic tells him, “hand over the Stables Titles. We won’t lay a finger on you. Same outcome, but it saves everyone a lot of hassle… well, it saves us a little hassle, and you a lot of pain,” he amends. “I’ve got no interest in beating you up just because the Superior Arse thinks it’s a good idea, but if the titles are on offer I don’t see why we shouldn’t have them since you’re not doing anything with them.”

 

Raynor looks at him thoughtfully for a few seconds. Then he speaks.

 

“Go to hell.”

 

“I told you he’d say that,” Austin Sly mutters.

 

“Actually, you said he’d tell us to go fuck ourselves,” the Fabulous Jakey puts in.

 

“Well, it’s the same difference isn’t it?”

 

“No way! You can’t say that you said he’d say something when he’s said something different!” the Cruiserweight Champion argues. “That’s totally…”

 

“Are you sure?” Toxxic asks Raynor as Amy weighs into the debate behind him, “last chance.”

 

“I’ll see you out there,” Chris says, picking up his bag and turning his back on the Englishman. Behind him the voice of Austin Sly rises above the hubbub.

 

“Look, leaving aside the semantic niceties, it’s pretty fucking clear that…”

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"Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is the..." Funyon checks his cards, "...'Oh the Whiskey Ain't Workin' Anymore Match' for the SWF Hardcore Gamers Championship! And the rules are as follow..." Funyon checks his cards.

 

"You know, when Funyon is this confused over rules, it's always a bad sign." sighs Mak.

 

"There will be no disqualifications, no count-outs, traditional hardcore rules. However, after either champion or challenger records a nearfall, they must BOTH take a shot of this bottle of 100 proof Southern Comfort, proudly supplied from the mobile drinks cabinet of Mr. Tom Flesher."

 

Referee Mark Hebner displays the bottle like a Price Is Right prize.

 

As he does so, “Aneurysm” by Nirvana (instrumental only) begins and blue pyro sparks rain down before a burst goes off along the outside of the entrance ramp. Danny Dagda steps through the sparks, absorbing the jeers from the crowd with a big smile on his face. Pointing to his shirt, which simply reads 'BEER' on the front, Dagda struts down towards the ring.

 

"Introducing first, the challenger! From Newark, New Jersey... he weighs in tonight at two hundred and ninety eight pounds... DDAAAAAAAAAANNYYYYYYYYYY... DDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGDDAAAAAAAAAA!!!!"

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

Rolling into the ring, Dagda snatches the bottle away from referee Hebner and raises it in the air like his own personal trophy and a definat cry of "LET'S GET WASTED!" A few of the already half-cut fans cheer in agreement, most just boo Dagda for being such an ass.

 

"Well, the rules may not but at least the crux of this match explains itself. Landon Maddix has been put into this match by Commissioner Tom Flesher, after trying to have a little too much fun at his expence last week. And by coincidence, it happens to be a match that favours the challenger heavily."

 

"No kidding." smirks King. "I mean, come on, Dagda drinks with Amy Stephens all the time. I doubt there's many guys who could keep up with them, Landon Maddix being the absolute least likely. And I include women, referees, backstage announcers, ring crew, any young children the guys may have brought with them to the show..."

 

"Their own children."

 

"It's worrying you felt the need to clarify that."

 

Dagda is convinced to give the booze back and goes to his corner...

 

 

"REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!"

 

The lights dim, alternating between complete blackout and really frikkin' bright as "Personal Jesus" by Marilyn Manson hits and brings the fans to their feet. From behind the curtain steps Megan Skye, heralding the arrival of Landon who stops at the top of the ramp and thrusting his hands out to his side to cheers. The lights stop alternating but stay dimmed as Landon walks down the aisle, head held high in spite of the situation he's in.

 

"And, introducing his opponent! Accompanied to the ring by MEGAN SKYE! From Huron, South Dakota by way of Madrid, Spain... weighing in at two hundred, eight pounds... he is the reigning SWF HARDCORE GAMERS CHAMPION... LANDON "LA CUCARACHA" MMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXX!!!!"

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Landon leaps to the apron, looking out at the crowd as Megan climbs the steps. Megan holds open the ropes and Landon bounds into the ring, spinning himself into the centre of the ring HBK style and posing with Megan.

 

"Oh, he's all smiles now, but I give it four... no, three nearfalls before Landon's over here professing his love for you while he takes a whizz up against our desk. And trust me Mak, when that happens, I will be a mere memory my friend."

 

Producing a milk carton from an inside pocket of his jacket, Maddix downs it before getting himself ready for action. The attempts to line his stomach earn Landon an amused look from Dagda, the resulting milk moustache amusement from... well, everyone.

 

"Got moron?"

 

"Oh, you're a riot." groans Mak, wishing he had a shot in front of him right now. It might not knock King out, but a glass to the face might quiet him down a little.

 

 

*DINGDINGDING!*

 

As Mak drifts off into that daydream, the bell sounds and we are ready to go. Maddix wipes the milk from his upper lip and skips out of the corner, offering a lock-up to Dagda. Inexplicably, he lets Danny initiate contact... and gets thrown straight on his ass. Maddix looks a little embarrassed, even though being thrown down by a 6'7, 298 pounder is no real shame. He loses his focus though, allowing Dagda to quickly dive on top with a cover...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

Quick kickout by Landon.

 

Rushing back to his feet, Landon prepares to throw a kick at the bigman... as Mark Hebner steps in, seperating the two and calling for the shotglasses.

 

"You know, the idea of the shots is to be a punishment in this match," Mak thinks aloud, awaking from his dream, "but I think that aspect is lost on Dagda. He just wants a drink!"

 

Landon tries to protest the loose usage of the term 'nearfall' but the letter of the law stats that it's time to down-in-one. The process is a little too slow for Dagda and he wrenches the bottle away from Hebner, pouring himself the shot and throwing it down his neck gladly. The next shot is then presented to Maddix, who looks decidedly unsure.

 

"Not sure Landon is a shots kinda guy."

 

"He seems more the Appletini type to me." sneers King.

 

Finally, the Champion accepts his fate and takes the shot from referee Hebner. Landon prepares to down it... but stops as Dagda starts to make a move for him. Hebner quickly moves Dagda away...

 

 

 

...allowing Landon to throw the shot over his shoulder!

 

"YYEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 

"Hey..." King says, before the anger has a chance to set in. "HEY! Come on!"

 

"I think Landon missed the target..."

 

Or not. As Hebner turns back around, Landon sucks through his teeth and passes the empty shotglass back, bullshitting away about it being "good stuff". Landon then catches Dagda napping a jumps up, popping him with a forearm strike. And another. A third... fourth... five forearms it takes to back Dagda into the ropes, Landon setting him up with an irish whip. However, the larger Dagda is able to reverse the momentum pretty easily, sending The Next Generation for the ride and knocking him into the middle of next week with a heavy shoulder tackle on the rebound! Cover...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

Kickout by Landon again... but again, Hebner sees this as the signal to get the drinks.

 

"You can see Dagda's tactic here," points out Mak, "string together a bunch of nearfalls and force Landon into taking more shots than he can handle as quickly as possible. But, that only works if Landon is actually drinking the shots..."

 

"Which is what he SHOULD be doing! Those are the rules."

 

"And if he doesn't follow them? Can he even be disqualified?"

 

Dagda again wastes no time downing his shot, while Landon stalls for time waiting for a distraction to arise. This time the challenger is making no moves though and Maddix's attempts to get Megan to run interference with just 'subtle' body language aren't working either.

 

"CHUG!"

"CHUG!"

"CHUG!"

"CHUG!"

 

"Why are they chanting 'chug'?" asks King. "They do realise they're supposed to be on Maddix's side, right?"

 

"Hey, it's a party, whatthefuckever!"

 

With no other option, Landon finally throws the shot... most of it ending up down his front rather than in his mouth. The best he can muster is a "my bad" to Hebner, who contemplates making him taking the shot again. But the impatient Dagda takes the decision out of his hands by charging at La Cucaracha, throwing up his boot and LEVELLING Maddix in the face with a hard Yakuza Kick!!

 

"See, given the choice, I'd have taken the shot. Maybe that's just me."

 

Dagda makes another lateral press...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

No extra prompting needed, Dagda motions for Hebner to hurry it up with the pouring and downs his third shot in quick succession. So far he doesn't seem to be showing too many ill effects, a seasoned drinked for sure. The same can't be said for Landon who, while not drunk is certainly punch drunk. Beginning to sit up, Landon tries to pull himself up...

 

 

 

...and is stopped by Dagda, who grabs Landon's shot and FORCES it down his throat!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Reminds me of my date last night." King thinks aloud.

 

"What?"

 

"I mean, now the fun begins! Which also reminds me of my date last night come to think of it."

 

Pulling Landon back up, Dagda grabs hold of the wrist and draws in La Cucaracha, burying the knee to the abdomen. Potent alcoholic shot + knee in gut does not = good times. Maddix keels over in pain, allowing Dagda to club him in the spine with a forearm, the force of which drops the Hardcore Champion to the mat in one fair swoop. Turning away from the action, Dagda sleazily gives Megan 'the eye' and invits her into the ring, although whether that could be classed as a side-effect of the shots or not is debatable.

 

"Well, there's one positive for Megan. Apparantly alcohol makes her more attractive. Mak, got any booze on you?"

 

With Maddix busy trying to wipe the taste of 100 proof from his mouth, the smiling Dagda backs off the ropes and tries to drop a big knee. He's a little too relaxed in doing so though, giving Maddix time to slide out of the way! Dagda's knee jams into the canvas and he rolls over in pain, while Landon makes a cover...

 

 

"NO!" cries Megan...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

...but it's too late. Dagda kicks out and Maddix realises his mistake.

 

"One shot and already Landon's judgement is impaired. That doesn't bode well."

 

"That's not the alcohol Mak, that's just Maddix being Maddix. God knows what he'll be like once it actually does kick in..."

 

We may be about to find out, as Hardcastle watches the fourth shot of the match all the way down Landon's throat. Hilarity ensues as Maddix's throat suddenly burns red hot and his eyes bug out of his head. Dagda, holding his knee, quickly downs his shot too, but decides not to take the opportunity to attack from behind, instead pausing to enjoy the show Landon is making of himself.

 

"You don't think he'll actually urinate on us, do you?" Mak begins to worry.

 

"Well, in that chair he might mistake you for a toilet. I can't rule that possibility out entirely."

 

Once Landon's throat cools down he shakes away the cobwebs, feeling a little drowsy all of a sudden. So he tries to shake the feeling away again... and stumbles a little bit, quickly grabbing the top rope and smiling sheepishly as he indicates he's okay. On the outside, Megan hides her face in shame. Maddix carefully walks himself away from the ropes now, Dagda waiting on him and throwing out a hand to goozle the Champion. But with only two of the four shots actually downed, the Champion still has enough about him to reach up and catch Double D with a quick Jawbreaker!

 

"YYEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

 

Hope is raised for the Champion's fans, as he again attacks his towering challenger with a series of forearms. Four connects before Landon gets adventurous and runs off the ropes, looking for a final Flying Forearm. Dagda steps in though and catches Maddix in his arms with ease! Turning Maddix around, Dagda plants him with a slam, following it up with a kneedrop.

 

"Oh, I think Dagda forgot about the knee for a second there." despairs King.

 

Sure enough, Dagda limps back up and shakes out the knee which he jammed moments earlier.

 

"The challenger, maybe not thinking too straight after four shots in a short period of time. I don't care how much of a heavyweight he is in the drinking stakes, under these hot lights and in a competitive environment like this, alcohol will take it's toll."

 

"You know, we should book Toxxic and Spike in one of these matches." King interrupts, completely ignoring his partner's point.

 

Dagda pulls Maddix to his feet, a little pre-occupied with his knee which allows Landon to fire off a quick kick to the hamstring. He wobbles a little after executing it, his base not so steady as usual. Landon connects with another forearm next, but gets shoved away by Dagda. Another wobble, but the ropes keep La Cucaracha standing and he rebounds... only to get Gorilla Pressed high overhead by Dagda...

 

 

 

 

...but he slips free and schoolboys the challenger up...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NO!

 

Landon curses the nearfall and in his eagerness to keep the momentum going, he downs the shot in a flash. Forgetting all about Dagda's requirement to drink to he then walks over, drags Dagda up by the head... and falls on his BUTT, giggling.

 

"Uh-oh."

 

"He's gone. Now the only question is, what kind of drunk is Maddix? Because if he's a sleepy drunk, this could be over pretty quick. Of course, if he's an amorous drunk... may God have mercy on us all."

 

Back up, Dagda takes his fifth shot of the match, having to shake that one off a little bit. Back up too now is Maddix and he's recovered from his little stumble, throwing another forearm. Unfortunately, he throws it like a haymaker in round 10 of a boxing match and barely connects with Dagda what-so-ever. Dagda brushes it off and pushes Landon's arms away, giving him a base to grab one wrist and yank La Cucaracha forward into a Short Arm Lariat! Cover by Dagda...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SHOULDER UP!

 

"Dagda might want to start going easy on the pin attempts here." critiques Mak, as yet another shot is required.

 

It's the sixth shot for Dagda which he takes like a man. Surprisingly, the same can be said for Landon now, the alcohol drawing out a sense of bravado to the surface. He downs the shot and throws up his dukes, ready for a fist-fight with Dagda... until of course he collapses in an unflattering heap.

 

"Somewhere, Tom is loving this I'm sure." Mak says with just a hint of bitterness.

 

"And you know the ironic thing? Tom's probably drunk more than Landon has in the course of this match and I bet he's still barely drowsy."

 

Dagda collects Maddix back up to his feet, trying to do something with the unco-operative Champion who mumbles something under his breath about not wanting to get up for school. Which is kinda odd. But not really that much of a concern to Dagda, until Landon lets slip the word "Mommy" and gets kneed in the crotch for his trouble.

 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

Showing some effects of the alcohol now, Dagda mazes to the left a little on his way over to the right, where the timekeeper's table is. Dagda drunkenly yells at Funyon to move and grabs his chair, throwing it in the ring before threatening the timeless ring announcer. Just 'cause. In the ring, Maddix shimmies over to the ropes and pulls himself up with their assistance, resting in the corner. And when I mean resting, I mean on the verge of falling asleep. Infact Megan has to come over and start shaking him by the ankle as his head begins to rest on the top turnbuckle...

 

 

 

...into which Danny Dagda slams the steel chair, seconds after Maddix has stumbled out of the way!! Still holding his nether regions, Landon stumbles into the far ropes. They divert him back to Dagda, who has prepared another chairshot. But again Landon, by more luck than judgement, moves clear...

 

 

 

*CLANG!*

 

 

 

..and Dagda strikes the ring ropes with the chair, REBOUNDING THE CHAIR INTO HIS OWN FACE!!!

 

"YYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Drunk or sober, that's gonna hurt." Mak helpfully points out.

 

As Dagda goes down, Megan waves Maddix away from her and over to Dagda, telling him in no uncertain terms to go after the leg Dagda had injured earlier. But for once, Landon isn't listening.

 

"Ya know... you... you are one boootifoo' woman, you know that?" Landon smiles, slurring his words and giving Megan a very lopsided wink. "I mean you... you juss... juss... you juss LA... LALALALALAAA, LALALAAALALAAA HEY! LALALAAAA..."

 

Drunkenly breaking into a rendition of... well, God knows what to be honest, Landon tries to encourage everybody in the crowd to sing along. A few of the drunker fans who had stupidly decided to play along by downing beers when the wrestlers downed their shots, perhaps forgetting there's still like five matches on the show that they'll now be drunk as a newt during, try to join in. The rest just watch on, stunned.

 

"This is... beyond words." struggles Mak, trying to say something.

 

Thankfully, Landon ends his little ditty and motions for Megan to 'call him sometime' before stumbling his way back over to Dagda. The bigman is still down but beginning to sit up. At least, he was. Maddix picks up the dented steel chair and just lazily throws it right at Dagda's head...

 

 

 

*CLANG!*

 

 

...and now, he's not beginning to sit up.

 

"That could do it right there!" Mak calls. "But, I don't know if Maddix wants to risk another nearfall, he's on his last legs as it is."

 

"Well, if he was smart, he'd..."

 

King trails off mid-thought, watching confused as everyone does as Landon exits the ring and slowly starts to climb to the top rope.

 

"...you know what, nevermind."

 

Despairing of her man, Megan asks him (very sharply) what in the hell he's thinking. Landon just blows her a kiss though before steadying himself on the middle rope, re-steadying himself on the middle rope, then giving the signal for some sort of flip!? I dunno. It's something unwise though and Megan can barely watch as Maddix takes what seems an enternity to get his footing on the top rope. Once he finally does, he slowly stands. Before, with dozens of flashbulbs going off and necks craned up towards him, the Hardcore Champion steps off the top...

 

 

 

 

...does the laziest front flip in professional wrestling history...

 

 

 

 

...and misses Dagda by about four feet with a Somersault Legdrop!!

 

"GGRRRRRRROOOOOOAAAAAANN!"

 

"Uh, nobody home on the... uh, somersault attempt. That was... awkward."

 

"Wait, did the fans actually just say 'GROAN'?"

 

"...."

 

Maddix lies flat on his back as Dagda begins to stir. Rolling over, he notices Landon down and looking for all the world like he's catching forty winks. And after clearing his head, the bigman crawls over and drapes an arm over the Hardcore Champ...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"New Champ!"

 

THR-

 

NO!! LANDON'S FOOT FINDS IT'S WAY ONTO THE BOTTOM ROPE!!

 

"YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

"Damnit! Megan put his foot on the rope!" snaps King. "She had to have done!"

 

Both men are struggling now, which makes the next step all the more unwelcome. Hebner pours out the next two shots from the nearing empty bottle of Southern Comfort and tries to hand them to the competitors. Only Dagda is compus mensus(??) enough to take his, downing shot number seven. Technically it's Landon's seventh too. And although he only really drank five and a half, he's got no idea what's going on, trying to hand the drink to the nearest cameraman. With the help of Hebner, Landon is brought to his feet and rested in the corner where he takes the shot. Hebner then signals for the match to continue, which is Dagda's cue to finish his run-up and charge from across the ring at Landon for an Avalanche...

 

 

 

 

...MISSES! Maddix stumbles out of the corner...

 

 

 

 

*WHAM!*

 

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

 

...AND DRUNKENLY KOes HEBNER WITH A CRASH LANDON '05!!!

 

"There goes the referee!" wails King. "What sort of a cheap move is that!?"

 

"You really think Landon meant that?"

 

Apparantely not, as he actually flips Hebner over and tries to make the cover on the referee. Over staggers Dagda, encouraged by Landon to make the count. And sure enough, Dagda drops down...

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

"What the hell..."

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

...

 

"Wait, I ain't a ref..."

 

Realising his mistake, Dagda reaches out and punches Landon in the head! Dagda drags himself to his feet and forces Landon up with him too, now firmly back in wrestler mode as he gutwrenches the Champion and hoists him over his shoulder. Holding him for a second, Danny gains his balance and his bearings, before turning...

 

 

 

 

...AND DECIMATING LA CUCARACHA!!!!

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"DECIMATION! Dagda with that sickening Piledriver variation, this one is over..."

 

Dagda makes the cover...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...and looks confused to hear the sounds of cheering and not the sounds of counting.

 

"...if not for the referee being knocked out, of course."

 

Looking over, the blurry vision of Mark Hebner's facedown body comes into view and Dagda finally realises what's going on. Dagda crawls off of Landon and over to the referee, trying to wake him up. Surprisingly, shaking him violently doesn't do the trick. Who knew!

 

"Dagda had the match won!" bemoans King, audibly punching the table. "See, this is why I hate wrestling!"

 

"Oh pull yourself together. Dagda, trying to wake up Hebner here, he may be beginning to stir a little bit, I'm not sure. The opportunity may have gone for the challenger though, for the time being at least."

 

With shaking not working, Dagda suddenly happens upon the bottle of Southern Comfort. With seemingly enough alcohol left in the bottle to pour over someone and wake them up, at least in Dagda's drunken mind, the challenger quickly unscrews the cap and pour... NO. Dagda stops short of actually dumping the contents on Hebner and instead, turns back to Landon.

 

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

 

"Oh boy..."

 

"No disqualifications, referee down or not, which means Danny Dagda can do whatever he wants with that bottle. And that's not a comforting look in his eye King."

 

"If that was supposed to be a pun, for shame."

 

The only sober person around the ring at the moment, Megan realises she has to act and quickly jumps onto the apron to try and distract the Dagda. Unfortunately, she gets a little more than she bargained for. Because, after seven shots and a chair to the head, Danny Dagda is feeling frisky. Dagda swaggers over towards Megan, licking his finger and RUNNING A RING AROUND HIS NIPPLE, which Megan does her best to look un-disgusted by.

 

"Oh yeah, lay it on her Danny! She wants you! We all do!" King encourages, before realising what he just said and shuddering.

 

Dagda continues to put the moves on Ms. Skye and seems to be getting all the right signals back from her. So he chances his luck and PUCKERS UP, leaning in to plant a smacker on her lips...

 

 

 

 

 

*SLAP!*

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

 

...AND GETS A SLAP PLANTED RIGHT ACROSS HIS JAW!!

 

Dagda staggers and drops the bottle, perilously close to Landon. He's lucky that Maddix isn't totally with it though and nothing comes of it, to Megan's dismay. Shaking off the slap, Dagda points a threatening finger at Megan, throwing some drunken abuse her way before turning around to pull Landon back up...

 

 

 

 

 

 

*SMAAAASH!!*

 

 

 

...ONLY TO FIND LANDON IS NOW 'WITH IT', ENOUGH AT LEAST TO SMASH THE BOTTLE OF SOUTHERN COMFORT OVER HIS CRANIUM!!!!!

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

 

Both men collapse in a heap, Landon on top of the pile...

 

 

 

 

...and staying there, as Hebner starts to come to his senses and sees the cover...

 

 

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh come on, not like this..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREEEE!!!!

 

"YYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

 

 

*DINGDINGDING!*

 

"I hate wrestling." sulks King, as the fans behind and around him erupt.

 

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match... and STILL SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion... LLLAAANDON... "LA CUCARACHA"... MMMMMMAAAAAADDIIIIIIXXXXXXXX!!!"

 

As "Personal Jesus" strikes up again Megan rolls into the ring, dragging her sozzled man off of Dagda and out of the ring. Two hundred and eight pounds of deadweight is hard for even Megan to carry though and she lets Landon collapse in a heap on the arena floor while she collects his Hardcore Title.

 

"Landon Maddix, still Hardcore Gamers Champion! I'll drink to that!"

 

"How long have you been waiti..."

 

"About a day and a half. Danny Dagda ended up paying the price for his love of the demon drink in the end and although he's destined for one hell of a hangover tommorrow morning, I'm sure Landon will be happy to endure it in the knowledge he's still Champion."

 

Drunkenly or not, Landon palms off the title as Megan tries to hand it to him, using her to get back to his feet and as a crutch to stagger off to the back, mumbling that he's about to be sick any second.

 

"You were saying."

 

"...uh, well, I'm sure Landon is happy in the knowledge he got the last laugh on Tom Flesher."

 

"For now, maybe. But we'll see. We'll all see."

 

"Well said."

 

As Landon pauses in the aisleway for a spot of dry-heaving, we thankfully...

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT.

 

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“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a handicap match,” Funyon booms, looking down at the index card he holds with some disbelief, “and is for the SWF Stables Titles! Introducing first…”

 

Abruptly every light in the arena hits full, and the Smarktron whites out. For a few seconds there is only the sound of a needle on vinyl. Then:

 

“WEL-WEL-W-W-WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!”

 

The skittering, epileptic riff of Rage Against The Machine’s ‘Know Your Enemy’ starts to ring out around the Sommet Center to a chorus of boos, as the Smarktron is filled with a rotating ‘REV-0’ logo interspersed with clips of the members in action, while spotlights sweep the crowd. The song starts to build up until without warning the main riff kicks in… and three blasts of red pyro rip up from the soundstage!

 

*BAM!*

 

*BAM!*

 

*BAM!*

 

‘KNOW YOUR ENEMY!’

 

Zack de la Rocha’s voice roars out and out come four familiar figures as Funyon takes up the introduction once more:

 

“…accompanied to the ring by ‘The Punk-Rock Princess’ Amy Stephens, at a combined weight of 518lbs; the team of the SWF Cruiserweight Champion The Fabulous Jakey and the SWF Tag Team Champions Austin Sly and Toxxic… REVOLUUUUUUUUUUUUU-TION… ZERRRRRRRRRRRRR-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

Toxxic leads the way, trenchcoat flapping behind him as the light glints off the Tag Team gold at his waist. Austin Sly comes next, rolling his shoulders in preparation, while the Fabulous Jakey pauses to exchange a few pleasantries with a couple of girls who are standing at the barriers on the entrance ramp, even allowing one to reach over and stroke his… title. Meanwhile Amy Stephens brings up the rear, swallowing lager as usual.

 

“King, what we’re about to see is in all likelihood going to be a massacre,” Mak Francis says, “are you really happy with seeing the last vestige of the Midnight Carnival having the Stables Titles taken from him by this gang of thugs?”

 

“Eh, the Carnival wasn’t worth a spit without me in it anyway,” King shrugs, “don’t get me wrong, Raynor’s a nice guy as long as you haven’t previously broken his neck or anything, but he’s been a bit pathetic since he came back.”

 

Revolution Zero are now approaching the ring… and suddenly turn around and start to head back up the ramp as Isle of Q’s ‘Rubberneck’ hits. The brief strobe lighting for the opening drums shows the quartet starting to position themselves around the entrance position, and then as the stage gets fully illuminated it shows them clearly poised to attack.

 

“Oh what, three-on-one isn’t enough?” Mak asks despairingly, “they’ve got to ambush him as well?”

 

“They haven’t got to,” King corrects him, “they choose to.”

 

The singing comes in… and Chris Raynor comes out, at full speed, and slams his fist into Toxxic’s face!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Old habits die hard Mak!” King shouts, “Raynor used to be a booker, he got used to watching the monitors backstage - it’s dollars to donuts he snuck a peak before coming out and saw Revolution Zero waiting for him!”

 

Toxxic goes down (easy tiger) as the big man puts all his power into the punch, and Raynor then turns around and clotheslines Jakey nearly out of his boots!

 

“LET’S GO RAY-NOR!”

 

“LET’S GO RAY-NOR!”

 

*CRUNCH!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

…but Austin Sly puts a stop to proceedings by delivering a chop block to the Baton Rouge native that takes his vertical base out, and then the Sly One and Amy Stephens simply start stomping a mudhole in the one remaining Stables Champion!

 

“YOU ALL SUCK!”

 

“YOU ALL SUCK!”

 

Toxxic gets back to his feet, nursing his jaw and with a face like thunder, and joins in! Jakey is a little slower to get back up, but soon enough The Fabulous One is ready to go as well and between then the four Revolutionaries haul the battered Chris Raynor up to his feet and start to drag him towards the ring.

 

“YOU ALL SUCK!”

 

“YOU ALL SUCK!”

 

Raynor tries once more; with a desperate surge he manages to shrug his assailants off, then grabs Sly and Jakey by the head and bangs their skulls together!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

…but Toxxic is ready this time, and whips out a small black canister that he sprays into Raynor’s face.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“AEROSOL EQUALISER!” Mak shouts, “although how the hell Toxxic thought anything needed equalising here, I don’t know!”

 

Raynor staggers back, only to find Amy Stephens’ foot coming the other way but heading for his groin. The big man doubles over and the Stephens siblings grabs him and propel him the rest of the way to the ring, while Sly and Jakey start to pick themselves up and follow.

 

“YOU ALL SUCK!”

 

“YOU ALL SUCK!”

 

The Stephenses roll Raynor under the ropes, then Toxxic calls to Sly who shakes his head to clear it and heads for the ring. Amy stays outside but the other three enter the ring…

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

…and Brian Warner, with no other option, calls for the bell to officially start the match. Revolution Zero bring Raynor up to something approaching a vertical base, then Sly hooks him up for a suplex. The Sly One hoists, lifting Raynor into the air, and brings his feet down onto Toxxic’s shoulders; then he snaps sideways and Toxxic drops down as they whirl Raynor to the mat with the Welcome To The Revolution.

 

*BANG!*

 

Austin Sly makes the cover.

 

One.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three.

 

*DING-DING-DING!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners,” Funyon declares, hardly having even needed to leave the ring, and never having had the time to do a proper introduction for Raynor, “and NEW~ SWF Stables Champions… REVOLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-TION… ZERRRRRRRRRRRR-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Well, that was pointless,” Mak says in disgust, “Toxxic and company didn’t even want to give us a match to watch!”

 

“Pathetic, more like,” King sniffs, “Tom won’t be pleased, Raynor just can’t do it anymore.”

 

The Stables Titles are handed to Revolution Zero by a reluctant Brian Warner; the quartet don’t even bother to celebrate but instead exit the ring and head back up the entrance ramp, as we

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT

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The Sommet Center lights up as SWF Storm returns from its final commercial break, and the Nashville fans are literally buzzing with anticipation for tonight’s main event!

 

“Finally,” Mak Francis begins as the cameras settle on the two announcers, “it’s just about time for the match we’ve been waiting for all evening. Not only is this match a first time encounter between Johnny Dangerous and Michael Alexander, but for the winner it’s a guaranteed shot at the World Heavyweight Championship on next weeks edition of Storm! Are you ready for this one, King?”

 

“Most definitely,” Suicide King confirms. “Under normal circumstances we’d be hailing this as a classic David versus Goliath story – an upstart rookie with early success taking on an experienced man of the squared circle.”

 

“How is this one any different?” Mak asks.

 

“Because this Goliath—Johnny Dangerous—isn’t the Goliath of old,” the Gambling Man explains. “Dangerous is a shell of his former self and his lack of success in recent times confirms that theory. Now he’s nothing more than a washed up, has been with no chance of even defeating a new comer to the SWF.”

 

*DING DING DING!!!*

 

The sounding of the timekeeper’s bell draws all eyes to the ring. Inside the ring announcer waits patiently for the noise of the fans to subside some, and then he begins.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Funyon bellows over the anxious crowd. “The following match is your MAIN EVENT~ and it is scheduled for one fall to crown the number one contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Championship!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

The fans pop magnificently for the announcement. When they finally settle down, leaving the ring announcer just enough room to be heard, he continues; “Introducing first… ” he says, before letting his voice trail off as “Dread Rock” by Paul Oakenfold comes over the speakers and the crowd sounds off with an substantial jeer for the South Carolina native!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

On the giant screen, a video montage of Michael Alexander’s previous in-ring exploits interspersed with Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” highlighting the areas that the various moves depicted injured on his opponents.

 

“From Greenville, South Carolina,” Funyon continues, “and weighing in tonight at two hundred-twenty one pounds; he is the Mad Scientist of the Mat… MIIIIICHAAAAAEEEEEEL AAAAAALEXAAAAAAANDEEEEEERRR!!”

 

Michael Alexander leisurely strolls out onto the stage and makes his way to ringside.

 

“Michael Alexander doesn’t look too worried about this match or his opponent for tonight,” observes Francis. “Hopefully he’s not buying into your nonsense and overlooking his opponent.”

 

“That’s because the man is self-confidence in his abilities,” King answers. “A million years ago David fearlessly headed into battle to challenge a great giant. Alexander broadcasts that same type of confidence on his way to the fight.”

 

Alexander heads into the ring and takes to a corner for a last minute stretch as he waits for the arrival of his next victim. “Dread Rock” fades out and then the lights dim the Mission Impossible theme starts ringing out around the arena!

 

Through all the vibrant lights and the cloud of smoke comes the Barracuda, silhouetted by the strobes with occasional flashes reflecting off his high-tech shades as he turns his head from side-to-side, looking out at his crowd!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

“And his opponent,” bellows Funyon. “From Las Vegas, Nevada, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty five pounds; he is… JOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDAAAA’ DAAAAAAANNGEEEERROOOOUUUUSSSS!”

 

“After months of waiting and a failed attempt to make it back to the main event,” Mak notes as the Barracuda heads down the walkway, towards the ring. “He won’t let a Cinderella story unfold under his watch.”

 

Johnny slides into the ring and then heads right towards Alexander!

 

“Someone seems to be a little anxious to get this one started,” says Francis. Ronald ‘Red’ Herrington, the official for this bout, is quick to call for the bell. There won’t be a chance for these two to men to turn their smack-talk into a smack-down before the start of this match!

 

*DING DING DING!!*

 

Alexander and Dangerous stand nose-to-nose, exchanging words that are only allowed in rated ‘R’ features, while the noise of the crowd swells in anticipation for the first blows.

 

“Right now the tension between these two superstars is so thick you could cut it with a knife,” the Franchise says. “Though they haven’t had any previous altercations, the chance for one of these two superstars to become World Champion is the reason for the hostility between them.”

 

Taking some initiative, Alexander shoves both hands into the Barracuda’s chest, knocking the secret agent several steps back!

 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!!”

 

The fans hum at the boldness of the Mad Scientist of the Mat while Dangerous narrows his eyes. Finally, Dangerous reaches out, looking to begin this match with a textbook collar-and-elbow, which is like music to Alexander’s ears. He eagerly reaches out to accept the offer, half beside himself over the fact that Dangerous would so willingly play to his game-

 

“It’s a bait and switch!” King shouts. “Look out!”

 

-but Dangerous suddenly switches gears and sends a quick roundhouse kick into Alexander’s gut and then drops down to fluidly move into a Russian leg sweep to put the Mad Scientist flat on his back!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

Moving quickly, Johnny floats over Alexander and applies a lateral press as Herrington drops down to count for:

 

ONE!

 

…and nothing more as Alexander easily raises the shoulder up, and then moves up to his feet. Johnny meets him at a vertical base and all the Mad Scientist can do is glare at his reflection on the Barracuda’s shades before getting hammered in the jaw with a right hook!

 

*CRACK!*

 

Alexander stumbles back as Johnny steps in and delivers a second shot, this time knocking the Mad Scientist into a corner post. Dangerous grabs his opponent by the arm and whips him diagonally across the ring, into the opposite post! Michael crunches into the steel structure and then staggers out of the corner, gingerly rubbing his chest as Johnny races towards him with a lariat-

 

“I was expecting Dangerous to have some success against this relative rookie,” says Mak, “but right now the Barracuda is dominating.”

 

-but Michael quickly ducks Dangerous’ arm, rolls behind the Barracuda, and when Johnny spins around to find his opponent is when Alexander lights up his face with a plain old bitch slap!

 

*SMACK!*

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed someone’s domination put to a halt by a bitch slap before,” King snorts. Mak folds his arms and glares at his cackling announcing partner.

 

The fans are taken back once more by Alexander’s boldness and the secret agent’s high-tech shades go skidding across the mat! As expected, the bitch slap only infuriates the Barracuda, and when he snaps his head back towards Alexander you can just see the fireballs igniting in his eyes! Likewise, Alexander’s eyes get a new look as well - they widen with surprise while he mouths “Ut-oh”… and then he tucks his tail and heads out of dodge!

 

“The Mad Scientist is running for his life! I don’t think this is how David defeated Goliath,” Mak suggests as King rolls his eyes in response.

 

However, Johnny’s just not going to let Alexander head outside and grab a quick breather; Johnny grabs Alexander by his leg, preventing him from leaving the ring and he drags the Mad Scientist back in. Dangerous grabs around the Evil Genius’ waist to drag him to his feet, but Alexander starts wildly swinging his elbow back! One shot connects right with Johnny’s temple, but he answers back with a clubbing fist to the back of Alexander’s spine! Having subdued Michael for at least one second is more than enough time to execute a German suplex, and the Barracuda sends him overhead then down to the mat! Wisely, Dangerous covers -

 

ONE!

 

- but that’s all Alexander will give up just yet. Johnny rolls up to his knees and Alexander greets him with a boot to the face to send Johnny tumbling backwards!

 

“No that’s how you show someone their offense is weak,” King says.

 

Dangerous rolls to his feet but is still too stunned to stop Alexander from grabbing his head from behind, walking him towards the corner turnbuckle, and then slamming his face into the top of the post!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Johnny’s head bounces off the turnbuckle like a tennis ball. He stumbles away from the corner, turning around on one foot before Alexander grabs Johnny by his arm and whips him across the ring, into the opposite corner, and then chases after Dangerous. Johnny slams into the steel post back-first and then Alexander follows in a second afterwards, sandwiching the Barracuda between himself and the turnbuckle. Michael peels himself off his opponent and then begins stomping Johnny anywhere and everywhere that his boot can find an opening.

 

“I’d like to point out this moment for the next time you decide to whine about Dangerous unfairly getting passed over for a title shot,” says King. “Here he is, a former two-time World Champion, a veteran of the SWF, and he can’t even get the duke over a man who is by all accounts still a rookie.”

 

Mak holds up his finger like a man of great intuition and says; “On any given Wednesday-”

 

“Shut up!” snaps King. “You know I don’t subscribe to that bullshit! Like I was saying, Johnny being the experienced vet that he is should have this match wrapped up, but it’s exactly the opposite. Now I’m not saying Alexander isn’t good; he is obviously better than 90% of our talent but this just proves the point that Johnny Dangerous is nothing more than a washed up, has been.”

 

“It’s still early,” Francis argues as the Mad Scientist continues to pummel Johnny with stomps, forcing Dangerous into a seated position against the post. Herrington is forced to start a count to disqualify the rookie while the Franchise continues his thoughts; “Alexander is far from having won against the Barracuda just yet. Besides, I didn’t see you making the same comparisons when Alexander was beating Spike Jenkins?”

 

“That’s because Spike is a never was,” King solemnly answers. “In fact, it’d be who of him to replace that ‘heartless’ slogan on his sweatshirt with one that reads ‘worthless’.”

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO!”

 

“THREE!”

 

“FOUR!”

 

Slightly short of getting himself disqualified, Alexander ceases his attack and moves away from Johnny, leaving the secret agent slumped in the corner in a world of hurt. The fans rise up with a solid boo for the Mad Scientist, which only seems to make him even more proud of his progress.

 

Alexander stops as he comes across Johnny’s shades lying on the mat, picks them up, and puts them on.

 

“Oh, Lord,” Francis mutters.

 

As one would expect, the crowd decides to let Alexander know exactly how much he sucks with this action, and it only gets worse when he decides to strike a quick martial arts pose.

 

“Ha! It’s a spitting image of Dangerous,” King snickers.

 

It gets worse though; Alexander puts his back against the ropes like he were trying to conceal himself against a wall and then he looks to his left, and then his right and then deftly moves back towards his opponent, picking up some steam as he looks to put another boot into his opponent-

 

*CRACK!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

-but Johnny quickly raises his foot up and Alexander charges head-first into it! Once more the shades go flying, this time completely out of the ring, and Michael is knocked down to his hands a knees.

 

“This is exactly what separates these two,” Mak explains. “Alexander is taking way too much time to try and insult the Barracuda when he should have continued his attack. A veteran like Johnny would never engage in such acts, especially when there is so much at stake here.”

 

“Like Johnny has never squandered an opportunity by playing to the crowd,” King responds. “Alexander knows exactly what’s at stake and when he has the match in hand as well as he did he can take the time to mock someone so easy to mock like Dangerous.”

 

“But now he doesn’t have the match in hand,” Mak returns. King just waves him off.

 

Johnny gets on his feet and grabs his opponent then steps forward, whipping Alexander across the ring… but the Mad Scientist digs his feet into the canvas and reverses, sending the Barracuda across the ring instead! Johnny hits the ropes and rebounds towards Michael, who quickly snatches Dangerous off the mat then puts him back down into the canvas with a powerslam! Michael covers for:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

…and Johnny kicks! Alexander leaves Dangerous face up on the mat and heads for the ropes, hits them, rockets back towards Johnny and then leaps up for a body press. At the apex of Michael’s jump Johnny suddenly pulls his legs up. All Alexander can do is widen his eyes in horror as he comes crashing down, chest-first into the Barracuda’s knees!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

“Alexander was trying to squeeze too much in there and it cost him,” Mak notes. “Another rookie mistake.”

 

“What are you going to do? Point out every mishap and blame it on Alexander’s lack of experience?”

 

“Would you rather I just blame it on his lack of ability?”

 

“Are you kidding me, Mak? Alexander has all the talent in the world!”

 

“Than it’s a rookie mistake,” Mak responds. King sits in disgust but he knows that his partner is right… for once.

 

Alexander sits on his knees with his head down in the mat as he cradles his chest, clearly in pain. Dangerous finally has enough time to gather up his bearings and pulls himself up. Alexander gets to a vertical base as well, showing Dangerous that he can more than take a licking and keep on going. Michael stumbles towards Johnny and that’s when Dangerous slams a fist into the side of Alexander’s jaw!

 

Alexander is knocked back but then he quickly charges back in with a wild swing, which is easily ducked by Johnny before he drills Michael with another punch to the face!

 

“Dangerous is starting to come alive!” Mak shouts as the crowd starts to get riled up for the Barracuda.

 

Again, Alexander refuses to go down and he comes back with another swing. Like before Johnny ducks down to avoid the blast, but this time he fluidly moves into a roundhouse kick, catching his opponent in the gut with it for the second time tonight!

 

“Doesn’t he have any more tricks up his sleeve than that!?” King hollers.

 

The wind is forced out of Alexander’s lungs and he doubles over, clenching his abdomen as Johnny backs into the ropes and charges forward-

 

*CRACK!*

 

-and Dangerous sends a sharp kick into Michael’s lowered head. It doesn’t knock the mad Scientist out like have the fan base would have hoped, or even down to the canvas, but it does knock his senses right out of his skull!

 

Alexander staggers a few loopy steps to one side, and then back the other way before Dangerous rushes to the ropes near Michael. Johnny leaps to the middle rope and then springboards off, back towards Alexander and crashes into Michael with a springboard body press!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

Johnny stays right on top of the Evil Genius, hooking the leg as he rolls Michael onto his shoulders for the pin. Herrington quickly drops down and counts:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

NO!! Alexander kicks out after two! Johnny pulls Alexander up by his arm and then whips him across the ring. He ducks down in anticipation of the Evil Genius’ return off the ropes, but he might as well have just drawn a huge target on top of his dome because that’s exactly what it looks like to the Mad Scientist.

 

Alexander suddenly kicks Johnny right in his head, putting a damper on whatever the Barracuda was planning, and knocking Johnny is a stunned upright position. Johnny retreats, dazedly stumbling away from Alexander but the Evil Genius isn’t about to just let his opponent off the hook. He swoops in from behind with a chop block to the back of Dangerous’ knee to send Johnny spilling to the mat.

 

“And there you have it,” King says. “Alexander must feel like he has this match in full control as he’s now starting to drill down on Johnny’s leg for his Gordian Knot submission.”

 

Alexander grabs Johnny by his leg to try and roll him over with a spinning toe hold and tear Dangerous’ knee to pieces, but Johnny resist and fights to stay on his back. Suddenly, Dangerous reaches out and grabs Alexander in a front face lock and then rolls back with a modified small package, grabbing onto Michael’s legs to secure the pin!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

“He’s got him!” shouts Mak.

 

Herrington dives to count as Alexander frantically kicks to try and escape.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

NO!! Alexander escapes just after the two-count! He rolls himself away from Dangerous, rather frustrated after letting someone with far inferior mat skills to his almost beat him with it.

 

“Close call for Alexander,” Francis repeats. “It was almost like he forgot that he’s not the only one in the SWF with any wrestling knowledge; he can’t expect to just have his way with everyone.”

 

“Johnny knows nothing outside of punch, kick and MI Slam,” King refutes. “I’d be surprised if Johnny even knows the difference between a wristlock and a wristwatch.”

 

Alexander pounds his fist into the canvas before getting up to his feet. He knows it’s time to get serious if he wants to have a shot at the World Championship and so he stands back up with a little more determination than beforehand – a little more focus.

 

“If the point of Johnny’s feeble roll up was to send a wake up call to Alexander than it looks like that did the trick,” says King. “It’s time to show the world that the Mad Scientist is for real!”

 

“I think you might be seriously underestimating what Johnny’s capable of. He’s faced some of the best ring technicians in the SWF before and won.”

 

“Maybe so, but he’s never faced this ring technician!”

 

Alexander scrambles to his feet and charges his now standing opponent, but like Francis noted Johnny’s faced these types before and a good way to knock the starch out of these charges is with a well placed spinning heel kick to the face. Dangerous does just that but the Mad Scientist ducks down to avoid it and Johnny’s momentum carries him off balance.

 

*WHACK!*

*WHACK!*

 

Alexander sends some quick kicks into Dangerous’ leg, “-and right now Alexander is utilizing some of that extensive mixed martial arts background on the Barracuda’s leg,” Francis notes. “Dangerous is going to need to play it a little bit safer than this.”

 

Johnny howls in pain as he reaches down at his leg, which only enticed Alexander to deliver some more kicks to that very same leg!

 

*WHACK!*

*WHACK!*

 

Michael nails Johnny twice more before grabbing Dangerous and whipping him towards the ropes. Johnny rebounds and Alexander drops down and catches Johnny with a quick drop toe hold to send Johnny face first into the mat.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“MICH-AEL SUCKS!”

“MICH-AEL SUCKS!”

 

The crowd voices their disapproval, but when Alexander hears this kind of reaction he knows he’s doing his job, and doing it well.

 

“Now this is the kind of work I was expecting to see out of Alexander,” beams King. Michael quickly grabs the same leg of Johnny’s that he was previously kicking and drapes it over his neck, and then forces down on Johnny’s shin to lock in a stretch muffler. Johnny howls in agony while the crowd continues to verbally assault the Evil Genius.

 

“I don’t believe I’ve seen Alexander use a stretch muffler before,” Mak says astoundingly.

 

“Well now you’ve seen it,” King hisses, “and you’re seeing the end of Dangerous’ 85659509th attempt at a World title shot – thank God!”

 

Herrington drops down and asks Johnny if he submits but that’s the last thing Dangerous wants to do right now. He answers with a profanity laced refusal and begins to reach out for the ropes, which are a good stretch away from him actually grabbing hold of them…

 

“This might not be over,” Mak reports. “If Johnny can grab those ropes he’ll force a break!”

 

“Who the hell do you think he is, Plastic Man?”

 

Plastic Man or just an ordinary Barracuda; neither matters as much as Johnny reaching for safety. Seeing the determination on the secret agent’s face, the crowd starts to chant in support of Johnny:

 

“LET’S GO JOHNNY!”

“LET’S GO JOHNNY!”

 

Dangerous reaches out for the ropes, his fingers lightly grazing the twill fibers of the red rope…

 

“LET’S GO JOHNNY!”

“LET’S GO JOHNNY!”

 

Finally, Dangerous uses his free foot and digs his toe into the canvas and with a mighty effort he manages to push himself just a little bit closer…

 

“He’s got it!” Mak exclaims as Dangerous grabs hold of the rope!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

Herrington barks at Alexander for the break, but the Mad Scientist refuses to let go, forcing the referee to begin a count:

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

…and Alexander lets go right after four, but his effort still gets him a heated round of boos!

 

“We saw Alexander milking every penny against Jimmy last week,” Mak recalls, “and he follows that up here tonight.”

 

“That’s called good strategy,” King replies. “If he can cause four more seconds of pain to Johnny than it’s four seconds spent worthwhile.”

 

Alexander isn’t so keen on just walking away at this point, so after releasing Johnny he reaches back down and grabs Dangerous leg once more!

 

“LET’S GO JOHNNY!”

“LET’S GO JOHNNY!”

 

However, Johnny isn’t going to simply give up his leg again and he rolls onto his back to avoid it, but the Mad Scientist simply won’t let go! He’s hell bent on getting the muffler locked back in and he fights with Johnny’s leg to try and roll him back onto his stomach!

 

“The only problem with this is Alexander is straddling directly over Johnny’s midsection, leaving his back exposed to Johnny’s upper body and his front exposed to the Barracuda’s lower half with the way he’s stooped over like that,” Mak reports. “He might be unintentionally leaving himself wide open.”

 

“Will you just shut up!?” King shouts, cocking his hand back. “Quit trying to coach him!”

 

“Stop getting so defensive! It’s not like he can here me!”

 

However, Mak’s thoughts are the same as the one’s running through Johnny’s mind. Moving quickly, Johnny reaches around Alexander’s legs and grabs on, and when Michael suddenly stops fighting with Dangerous you can almost see the light bulb of realization going off over his head. Unfortunately, Johnny moves quick enough to still catch the rookie; Dangerous reaches up with his legs and hooks underneath Alexander’s arms and then pulls him down with his legs. The momentum of Alexander rolling forward pulls Dangerous up, and suddenly-

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

-Johnny has Alexander pinned to the mat with the strangest form of a victory roll possible!

 

“Dangerous has him again!” shouts Francis. “Talk about some improvisational skills – this might be over!”

 

Herrington drops to count as the crowd counts along with him for:

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

The entire building is stunned when Herrington jumps up and waves off the fall. Having plainly seen Alexander unable to escape the pin nobody can believe it until Herrington points towards Alexander’s hand grabbing hold of the rope.

 

“Excellent thinking by Michael Alexander,” King praises, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead. “He knew he couldn’t kick out—Dangerous had too much leverage—so he wisely grabbed the rope to stop it!”

 

“I can’t argue that,” Francis adds. “However, it was another very close call for Alexander.”

 

Johnny is obviously angered by this outcome and he slings Alexander’s legs to the mat like they were some kind of rag doll as he stands up, opting to try and grab some momentum away from his opponent. He limps towards Alexander, and even though the Mad Scientist is down on all fours he sees the Barracuda coming… and also sees the limp. A sick smile creeps across his face; he now knows without a shadow of a doubt that this so called vet is about to fall.

 

“Alexander better stop watching Johnny and make a move,” Mak warns as the Mad Scientist seems to be lost in a world of thought. Nonetheless, Alexander seems to snap out of his trance when Dangerous approaches and he reaches for that leg again, which Johnny is quite protective of and so he jumps up with his good leg and then comes down, knee-first across the back of Alexander’s head!

 

*BAM!*

 

Alexander is seeing stars when the Barracuda mounts him from behind and starts wailing away with his fist! Herrington barks at him to stop and then starts a count out on the Barracuda!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Finally, Johnny stops his assault. He might be mad as hell but he’s not going to let it ruin his shot at gold.

 

“Oh, what was that!?” cries King. “Apparently Dangerous isn’t too good to push the limits as well.”

 

“When push comes to shove…” Francis begins and then trails off. Shaking his head he realizes it’s not worth the argument.

 

Johnny gets up to a thunderous cheer from the Tennessee crowd and drags Alexander up to a vertical base with him… and then spins around and drills Michael with an absolutely brutal spinning back fist!

 

*SMACK!*

 

Michael is sent reeling and falls into the ropes. Before he can pull himself off under his own power, Dangerous grabs Alexander by the arm and sends him across the ring with an Irish whip! Alexander hits the far ropes and bounces back towards Johnny, who quickly sends a stiff kick into Michael’s ribs on the return, doubling the Mad Scientist over!

 

The crowd moves to the edge of their seats as Dangerous moves in under Alexander and drags him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, they know where this is leading and they howl in excitement!

 

“Spinal Explosion~!” Mak calls in anticipation. “But will he be able to get it off!?”

 

As Dangerous lifts up a sharp pain shoots through his wounded leg, causing him to cry out in pain. He’s not about to let it put a stop in his plan though; wisely shifting all his weight and the weight of Michael Alexander onto his good leg gives a momentary reprieve of pain, hopefully it’ll be enough to execute his move. Apparently it is, all it takes is a good push off for Johnny to somersault forward—the weight of Alexander carries him over for the most part –

 

*BAM!*

 

- and Dangerous drills Alexander, back-first into the canvas!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

Johnny leans back into a cover, not out of over confidence, but because right now it’s the least painful to do. He’s hoping it’ll be enough.

 

ONE!!

 

 

 

 

TWO!!

 

 

 

 

THR-NO!!! Alexander just barely gets a shoulder off the canvas before three!

 

“He’s not out of the running yet,” says King. “All he has to do is get the momentum back and it’ll be an easy grab for victory. You saw how difficult it was for Dangerous to get the Spinal Explosion off. I-I-I think it’s a safe bet to say Alexander has effectively eliminated most off Johnny’s offense.”

 

“You sure seem to be sweating the washed up Barracuda more than expected,” Mak returns, which gets a glare from King.

 

Johnny pulls Alexander up again. Backing Michael into the ropes, Johnny then whips Alexander to the opposite end of the ring. Johnny readies himself for the return but when the Mad Scientist goes into the ropes he frantically hooks his arms around the top rope to keep himself from going anywhere!

 

Alexander quickly charges towards Dangerous looking for a running elbow, but the Barracuda manages to dodge out of the way! Michael stops himself and turns back around –

 

*THHH-WACK!*

 

- right into Shotei palmstrike, right between the eyes from the Barracuda! Alexander shudders from the hit and stumbles a few steps to the side when Johnny spins around on his good leg and lifts his other foot into the Mad Scientist’s gut, but Alexander catches the secret agent’s foot! Johnny realizes his mistake but it’s already too late – Alexander slings Dangerous’ leg around, “-and there’s Alexander’s inverted Dragon Screw!” Mak shouts as Johnny spirals into the canvas. “This usually leads into one of Alexander’s favorite holds – the Gordian Knot!”

 

“Damn right! I told you this wasn’t over!”

 

The fans rise up in shock – they know exactly where this one is headed and they can’t bear the thought of actually seeing it take place! Alexander reaches down and grabs at the Barracuda’s leg, but Johnny isn’t so keen to just letting the Evil Genius wrap him up and end this match. Johnny bucks and jerks his leg back causing more of a struggle to lock in the Gordian Knot than what Alexander had hoped for, and the struggle gets the fans roaring!

 

“LET’S GO, JOHN-NY!”

“LET’S GO, JOHN-NY!”

 

“The Barracuda is fighting for his survival here,” Francis says. “He knows the match will be over if Alexander locks in that move – Dangerous has taken too much abuse to that leg!”

 

Johnny claws his way to the ropes and grabs on. Even if Alexander can get the move locked in the Barracuda has secured a rope break, but the Evil Genius doesn’t give a damn if Johnny has the ropes – he came for a Gordian Knot and he’s going to get one! Alexander completes the move and with Johnny clinging to the ropes for dear life he has the Gordian Knot locked in!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

“What’s he doing!?”

 

Herrington calls for the break even before the move is completed, so when Alexander pays him no mind and continues he goes for yet another count!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

FI-

 

- Alexander releases the hold at the last possible moment, “-and he’s really trying to see how far he can test this referee,” Mak says heatedly.

 

Herrington pushes past Alexander to check on Dangerous’ condition, but Alexander can’t afford such courteous notions right now. He has Johnny where he want’s him and he intends to end this! Alexander pulls Johnny up to his feet by his head, but Dangerous shoves the Mad Scientist away! Desperate to fend off his attacker, Johnny fires off a shot into Alexander’s head –

 

*CRACK!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

 

- but Alexander is just as quick to return fire!

 

*CRACK!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

*CRACK-CRACK!*

 

Two more shots to the head has Dangerous apparently reeling – one good, stiff shot should end any fight the Barracuda has left inside him, so Alexander takes off across the ring to make it happen!

 

“Alexander’s looking for something big here – something to finish off the Barracuda with,” King says happily.

 

“But he nearly had him already!” Mak returns. “There’s no need to try and do something fancy, especially when he really doesn’t have a foothold on the match right now!”

 

“All he needs is a little bit!”

 

Hitting the far ropes, Alexander rockets back off of them, picking up some serious steam as he rushes back towards his opponent, but Johnny drops to the mat forcing the Mad Scientist to float over him!

 

Alexander continues to the opposite end of the ring, hitting those ropes and bouncing back, but before he can get off whatever move he’s planning the Barracuda springs up and snatches the Evil Genius right off the mat, using Alexander’s own momentum against him and the strength of his uninjured leg to carry the Mad Scientist over head and down into the mat with a-

 

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-” Mak shouts.

 

*SLAM!*

 

“OUT OF NOWHERE!” hollers Mak, and the crowd explodes as Alexander is drilled into the mat! Moving quickly, Johnny scrambles back over his opponent and covers as Herrington drops down. Dangerous knows this rookie nearly had his number – Goliath nearly fell tonight, Cinderella nearly rode away in her pumpkin carriage -

 

 

ONE!!

 

 

That’s one less fairytale to be told -

 

 

TWO!!!

 

 

And now it’s time to end the second one -

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

*DING DING DING!!*

 

“It’s over!” shouts Mak. “Johnny Dangerous has won and now he’ll have a shot at Alan Clark next week!”

 

Johnny’s theme pounds from pillar to post and the crowd roars in delight. Herrington helps Johnny up and then raises his arm triumphantly.

 

“The winner of this match by pinfall,” bellows Funyon, “and the number one contender to the SWF World Heavyweight Championship; JOHNNY ‘THE BARRACUDA’ DAAAAAAAANNGGGEEEEEEEERROOOUUUSSSSS!!”

 

After a little effort, Johnny climbs the corner post and raises his arm to the crowd. Finally, he can feel proud that he’s secured a shot at Alan Clark and the World Heavyweight Championship. Now all he has to do is win it, and he calls attention to that moment as he pantomimes the title belt around his waist…

 

As we:

FADE OUT.

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