SWF Storm - 9/12/2007

[chirs3 0]

“Well now,” Tom Flesher says, pouring himself a bourbon, “here we are. I’m going to make you a proposition that I feel could be of benefit to you, but in order for me to do so I’m going to have to ask you to remain silent. Basically because your manner of speaking and your stupid accent annoys me, and if you start talking I might lose my patience and make a decision both of us will regret.” He offers the bottle to his guest, who simply looks at him. “Suit yourself,” Flesher smiles and replaces it, then takes a sip of his drink.

 

“So, to business. Johnny Dangerous is World Heavyweight Champion, having taken the belt from Alan Clark. Clark was an anomaly as champion, his sponsorship deal with Disney was profitable for us even if I got thoroughly sick of the complimentary Mickey Mouse ears I was sent every week.” Flesher takes another sip, then frowns contemplatively. “Johnny, on the other hand, has no such sponsorship deal. If he did I might - might - look a little more favourably on him, but at the end of the day he’s one of those wrestlers who should never be allowed near the top belt. I had counted on Michael Alexander beating him to get the shot, but the best laid plans of mice and men, etc etc.” Another sip, the Superior One’s eyes raise to focus on the face of his visitor.

 

“Johnny is not a profitable champion. In fact, he loses us money. The ludicrous copyright fees we have to pay to licence his Mission Impossible theme music costs as much as half the roster’s, there’s the cost of those stupid ‘hi-tech’ sunglasses he throws into the crowd each week… but mainly, he just doesn’t draw,” Flesher concludes. “His first run with the belt was mercifully short. His second tanked, we didn’t even get that good a rating when Danny Williams took the title from him, I suspect because people couldn’t be bothered to tune in for what would be an obvious shit-kicking. He’s a lame-duck champion heading for Genesis, our biggest show of the year, and I need to find something to spice the main event up a little. Something with a little… history to it.”

 

The figure across the table doesn’t nod, but it does tilt its head to one side in a vaguely quizzical manner. Flesher rolls his tumbler in his hand, perhaps figuring out how much he can say of what’s on his mind and how long it will take his visitor to ignore his conditions and start speaking.

 

“You have history with Johnny,” the Superior One states flatly. “There are others, granted, but I think you fit the bill nicely. You’re a competitor, you want to win; I’ve found that out to my own cost. But quite apart from that, there’s the matter of Johnny costing your team the Tag Titles when you were the most dominant force in the company. Add that on to the nature of your previous encounters and I think we’ll have a main event for Genesis that the fans will pay to see… and also one that I’m confident Johnny will leave without the World Title. Now, let’s not beat around the bush,” Flesher concedes, “you’re not exactly the person I’d choose to hold the belt, because the person I’d choose to hold the belt is sitting on this side of my desk. But whatever reservations I may have about you, about your wrestling style, or about the nature of the mic work I’ll likely have to endure after you win the title, you’re still a more attractive option to me and this company’s bank balance than Johnny Dangerous is.”

 

Now the figure does nod, slowly; Flesher isn’t being flattering, perhaps because he knows that won’t work. But in his own way, he is speaking the truth.

 

“Bottom line, I need to name a contender for Genesis so we can get the hype machine rolling,” Flesher says, “in fact it probably needs to be announced by the end of next week’s show. But this is Genesis, I’m not taking chances and I’m not going to risk making my announcement only for you to have a change of heart and decide you don’t want to face Johnny or you have other plans or whatever. Before you leave this office I want a yes or no answer,” the Commissioner says seriously, “and I want your signature. So if you decide to monkey around with me I can take you to court for a large amount of money, and given the years you’ve been with us and the title reigns you’ve had I’m pretty damn sure I’ll have a lot to choose from. And did I hear that you’ve recently opened a wrestling school?”

 

The figure nods.

 

“Heh, I can’t wait to see what people will learn from you,” Flesher snickers, then sobers. “But that’s neither here nor there. My opinions of your wrestling style are, ultimately, meaningless in this context. You know I don’t like you much, but this is also the only way you get to make history, step into the main event of Genesis VIII and show Johnny Dangerous who the better man is.” He pushes a contract across the table and holds out a pen.

 

“Do you have an answer for me?”

[chirs3 0]

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

The Smartmarks Wrestling Federation presents...
SWF STOOOOORM!
Live, Wednesday, September 12th, from the Thomas & Mack Center in Las Vegas, Nevada!
(7pm PST, 10pm EST; check local listings)
(Send all promos/marked matches to chirs3)



Vacation-time in the SWF - apparently everyone wants to get trips to Disneyworld in BEFORE they injure themselves beyond recognition at Genesis, not after. Even so, some of our heavy hitters will be in attendance, including brand new World Champion, Johnny Dangerous!

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

TAG TEAM MATCH
The Winston Churchill Experience (Jimmy the Doom and Fulminatus) vs. Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix and Chris Raynor
-->
Rules: Standard tag.

-=-=-=-

SINGLES MATCH
Michael Alexander vs. Danny Dagda
-->
Rules: 5000

-=-=-=-

HARDCORE MATCH
Austin Sly vs. Ghost Machine
--> Because, because, because, because, because of the wonderful things he does.
Rules: Hardcore

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

[chirs3 0]

“Johnny!” Flesher beams. “Have a seat old friend!”

 

The rather cheerful mood of Tom Flesher catches the Barracuda by surprise. In nearly all the time he’s known the current SWF commissioner he can’t think of a time where Tom Flesher seemed even remotely warm towards him, let alone…friend.

 

“You said you wanted to see me?” Dangerous asks as he takes a seat in front of Tom’s desk.

 

“Indeed, I did,” Tom replies, taking his seat. “I didn’t get much of a chance to see you after last weeks Storm concluded so I’d like to express a belated congratulation towards you for winning the World Championship for a…*ahem* third time.”

 

Dangerous sits…waiting…and Flesher remains silent, eyeballing the title belt until Johnny shifts the championship from one shoulder to the other.

 

“Anyway,” Tom finally speaks up as he reaches under his desk, pulls out his bottle of bourbon and pours himself a drink. “That’s not the only reason I wanted to speak with you today. In fact I wanted to discuss Genesis.” Tom glances at Johnny and raises his brow quizzically as he tilts the bottle towards the Barracuda.

 

“It is Genesis, after all,” Johnny says. He slides the empty tumbler on his side of the desk towards Flesher, “and it only comes once a year.”

 

“Thank God,” Tom replies and though hesitant…Flesher pours Dangerous a drink, but not without a noticeable shake in his hands. After he sets the Bourbon down he continues; “I don’t think I could take the stress that comes with this big of a show more than once a year. Anyway, with a show this big we need to make sure we have a match that will sell that show – it just can’t be any old person in the back,” Flesher concludes. He leans back in his chair as he takes a sip of his drink.

 

“I see,” says Johnny, setting the empty tumbler down on a coaster. He taps the rim of the glass. “So what you’re saying, if I’m understanding you correctly, is that you don’t want me to go out here tonight and declare that I’ll be facing some random individual – the Crimson Skull, Tokyo X ala what Landon did with the whole Zyon fiasco.”

 

“Ugh,” the Superior One cringes, “don’t remind me.” He tops off his glass then refills Johnny’s. “What Landon did was absolutely shameful. He named an overmatched opponent to face him in a pay per view main event so he could – A; make sure he didn’t have to face anyone else for six weeks before the show and B; take an easy victory at the show.” Tom shakes his head in disgust then sips his drink. “You are correct, though. That sort of event is the last thing we want to see. What I need you to do is just put your faith in me and let me select a challenger for Genesis that I can get the brain trust to buy into.”

 

“That’s fine,” Johnny shrugs. “I just don’t want to have the odds stacked against me in some kind of an elimination chamber or what not. Honestly,” Johnny leans in a little closer. “I’d just like a good, competitive match – that’s all I could ever ask.”

 

“Come now, Johnny. Do you think I’d set out to ruin your reign as World Heavyweight Champion? I’m not the same vengeful Tom Flesher that was competing every week…I have a role of authority - I have to be fair. So do we have a deal?” Flesher concludes, extending his hand.

 

Sure,” Johnny replies. He reaches forward and accepts Tom’s handshake. “I’m in for whatever.”

 

“Excellent,” Flesher responds as a smile creeps up on his face…

 

 

FADE.

[chirs3 0]

We go to The Palms casino, where the Cruiserweight Champion The Fabulous Jakey, decked out in a dark green power suit, is frustrated at a slot machine and downing a fruity cocktail.

 

“Why aren’t you at the arena?” Amy Stephens asks as she walks by. She is wearing a truly lame tourist “I LOVE LAS VEGAS” T-shirt.

 

“Why aren’t you?” Jakey shoots back as Amy takes a seat next to him.

 

“Toxx ain’t on the show tonight, and neglected to tell me, so I flew all the way to Vegas for nothin'", Amy explains. "Can I try your drink?"

 

"Oh, sweetie, this is strong stuff," Jakey discourages.

 

"Please, knowing you it's probably some watered down Kool-Aid," Amy scoffs before taking a big gulp. She immediately winces as if she drank fire.

 

"How-----you're so little!" she incredulously cries.

 

A lady employee in a bowtie walks by and Jakey flags her down.

 

"Can we get another double vodka Red Bull with grenadine, please?" he asks. "And this one will have an iced tea."

 

"Hell no!" Amy cries. "I'm having what he's having! I'll get used to it!"

 

The employee smiles a tight grin and walks off.

 

"Are you winning?" Amy asks.

 

"I'll get there," Jakey argues, then pushes another button.

 

"DAMMIT!" he cries out before pulling another $20 out of his front pocket.

 

"Are our rooms comped?" Amy asks with forethought.

[chirs3 0]

Sly Machine

[chirs3 0]

 

Three empty glasses are by The Fabulous Jakey as the server walks by to scoop them up on a tray. "Another double vodka Red Bull with grenadine?" she asks.

 

"Yes!" Jakey rudely tells her.

 

"And one for you?" the server asks Amy, who is still nursing her original drink.

 

"No thank you," Amy says. "I should have just ordered a beer."

 

The server smiles and walks away.

 

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be tipping them?" Amy asks.

 

"You tip them when you aren't losing," Jakey explains. "Winning drunk people give it all back in tips."

 

"Aren't you glad you didn't have a match tonight?" Amy asks, trying to be cheerful.

 

Jakey angrily puts another $20 in the machine and pushes the button.

 

"Well ... when I'm in the ring, I'm at least winning," pouts the champ.

[chirs3 0]

Tom Flesher leans back in his chair, a sadly empty scotch glass on his desk. He's holding the Jayson Grant Memorial Trophy in his hands, and is looking intently at someone off camera.

 

"Listen," he says evenly. "We both know that Johnny Dangerous' title reign is a fluke, an overblown balloon waiting to pop. I know that every day he holds the SWF title is a day that we lose money...he doesn't sell merchandise, he doesn't even draw fans and he's grossly out of touch."

 

Tom chuckles to himself. "I mean seriously, he pretends to be James Bond ten years after Bond stopped being anything approaching hip, trendy, or popular. The SWF needs..." Tom slaps his hand on the desk for emphasis, "...I need...the belt off of Johnny Dangerous. He's an embarrassment to me and a money pit to this entire company."

 

Tom smiles at his guest. "You on the other hand, when I see you, I see hope for the SWF's future... a return to its Golden Age, you might say, when the title was held by the best wrestler in the company... it's like I'm looking into a mirror... and mirrors don't lie. I think you could be the future of this company and this business.”

 

“So tell me... are you up for the biggest opportunity of your career?" He finishes, sliding a clipboard towards his guest…

 

As we:

FADE OUT.

[chirs3 0]

The cameras pan around the Thomas & Mack Center, giving a panorama of the roaring crowd, as Mak Francis and the Suicide King begin their banter. Signs amongst the crowd proclaim that “Daddy Dagda gets it Done” and ask “Where’s Your Igor?”

 

“Here we are with the second match on the card tonight, with the monolithic Danny Dagda facing off against Michael Alexander. This will be Alexander’s first match here in the SWF against a behemoth like Dagda. It’s going to be interesting to see how he handles himself, since all of his previous opponents have been somewhere close to his own weight class.” Mak rubs his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Well, with two guys of this quality, we can’t help but have a great match,” King chirps happily. “After Alexander was cheated out of his opportunity to face Clark a couple of weeks ago, it’ll be good to see him return to singles competition.”

 

“Cheated? How? Dangerous beat him fairly…and honestly, Alexander gave him so many openings that he has no one to blame but himself.” Mak pronounces.

 

“Are you kidding? Dangerous shouldn’t have even been in the running for the title! Who had he beaten lately? Nobody! He got thrown into the mix why? Because he committed a cowardly attack on Clark a few weeks ago? I say it was obviously some sort of conspiracy against Michael Alexander.” King declaims.

 

“Regardless, King,” Mak replies, “Dangerous showed us all last week that he had what it took when he became the champ last week by beating Alan Clark. And before that, he had beaten Michael Alexander. Seems like a pretty simple equation to me.”

 

“It would seem that way…to YOU.” King folds his arms as though he has just made a cogent point. Mak raises his eyebrow quizzically. King continues, “You’ve always been against Alexander since he debuted here. You’re probably part of the conspiracy.”

 

“Whatever, King,” Mak segues flawlessly, as he’s had a lot practice at this. “It looks like things are about to get going.”

 

Referee Brock Samson grimaces angrily as Funyon clambers into the ring. The big man prepares to earn his pay once again as he raises the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, this match will be one fall. First, from Newark, New Jersey…weighing in at 298 pounds…DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNY DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGDAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

 

“Aneurysm” by Nirvana queues up, and a shower of blue sparks rain down on the ramp area for a few moments before Dagda’s pyro explodes on the outside of the ramp. Danny Dagda then walks out smiling, wearing a pair of incredibly fake and unspeakably comical glasses and a white lab coat. A pocket protector full of pens graces his coat’s pocket, which he adjusts in mock nerd-dom as he shuffles down to the ring, pushing his glasses back up his nose unnecessarily. The crowd is a little take aback by his attire, but still doesn’t like him, and makes that abundantly clear.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“I think Dagda’s poking a little fun at our Mad Scientist of the Mat, King,” Mak snickers.

 

“He’s never going to miss a chance to mock someone…that’s one of the things I love about Danny,” King says.

 

“It’s Dagda’s stock-in-trade to do this sort of thing to get under his opponent’s skin early in the match. I wonder how this will play with Michael Alexander, who has yet to face someone quite like Danny Dagda,” Mak muses.

 

Dagda climbs into the ring, and remains in the get-up as Funyon begins to introduce his opponent. “Dread Rock” by Paul Oakenfold begins to play, and the a video montage of Alexander’s previous in-ring exploits interspersed with Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” highlighting the areas that the various moves depicted injure on his opponents. The Smarktron seems to have been updated with footage from his recent match with the new SWF champion Johnny Dangerous. The lights in the arena flicker in time with the Smarktron.

 

“And his opponent, from Greenville, South Carolina…weighing in at 221 pounds…the Mad Scientist of the Mat…MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICHAELLLLLLLLL AAAAAAAAAAAALEXAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDER!”

 

Alexander steps out onto the stage, and the flicker lighting stops dead. He stares dead at Danny Dagda in all his pocket-protected glory and is obviously not amused. Strangely enough, the crowd actually seems to side with Michael Alexander, as he stomps angrily down to the ring.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

As he stalks into the ring, Michael Alexander looks out over the crowd in surprise; he’s not used to that particular reaction. He then refocusing on Dagda, staring daggers into the big man. Dagda takes this in stride, chuckling to himself, as he finally removes his “Revenge of the Nerds” costume.

 

“Well, that was a surprise,” Mak observes. “The crowd actually seems to have sided with Alexander…for the first time since his SWF debut.”

 

“It’s about time they saw the impending greatness of Alexander, but I think it’s just that everyone hates Dagda a lot more,” King adds sagely.

 

“You’re actually probably right for a change, King. It’s going to be interesting to see how Alexander deals with this. This is actually Dagda’s element, being the jerk and getting his opponent riled and off his game. Usually Alexander is the one doing the mocking, but now he’s on the receiving end.”

 

“Well, as good as Dagda is, I don’t see this taking Michael Alexander off his game, Francis. But at the very least, it’s going to be a fun match to watch.”

 

Funyon ducks out of the ring, sensing trouble to come. The Referee growls for the bell, and the match is underway.

 

DING! DING!

 

The two men circle each other, Alexander looking fey and Dagda looking cheerfully heelish. The two collide in a collar-and-elbow tieup, and Danny takes advantage of his size and power to quickly shove the smaller man into the corner.

 

“This is definitely not where Alexander wants to be, King…cornered by Danny Dagda,” Mak remarks.

 

“Seriously,” King says. “Anytime you’re cornered by a guy just a few inches shy of seven feet tall, it’s bad news.”

 

Samson snarls for them to break it, which Dagda does with a smart back elbow to Alexander’s head. Rocking back in the corner, Alexander’s legs go wobbly. The big man then grabs him and hurls him bodily into the middle of the ring with a Beal toss. Alexander flops limply to the mat, still stunned.

 

“And that ended about as well as could be expected,” Mak laments.

 

“Did you think Danny would pass up such a great chance to soften his man up a bit early on? I’m a little surprised Alexander got caught there, but there wasn’t really anywhere to go out of that corner. It’s good to see Dadga at work again.”

 

Danny plays to the crowd a bit as he approaches his grounded opponent, and drops a crunching elbow…which basically only crunches the mat, as Alexander has rolled aside. Both men roll back up to their feet at about the same time, but Dagda is still in better shape, and he bulls Alexander into the ropes with a series of elbows to the head.

 

“Dagda missed the elbow, but he still manages to control Alexander early in this match,” Mak states.

 

“If Alexander doesn’t start something soon, this could be actually be late in the match, ‘cause it won’t last very long.” King snickers at his terrible joke as Mak winces.

 

Danny smirks as he whips the Mad Scientist into the ropes and raises his arm for a clothesline. Unfortunately, Alexander sees this coming and easily ducks it and bounces off the ropes again, and as Dagda turns around, his face becomes intimately familiar with the Evil Genius’ forearm, as it crashes into his face!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“Alexander must have heard you, King. That was a nasty flying forearm right in Danny Dagda’s face!” Mak yells.

 

“It was only a matter of time before Alexander asserted himself. He’s got to make use of his speed and technical skills…I know he doesn’t want to try to go toe to toe with Danny.” King snorts.

 

Dagda slumps to the mat, more from surprise and impact than true injury, but Alexander is back to his feet more quickly this time, and takes advantage of the big man’s shift in altitude. As Danny starts to get to his knees, the Evil Genius cracks him in the jaw with a spinning back elbow, sending him onto his back once again. Knowing his real chance in this match is to slow take the pins out from under the big man, Alexander grabs Dagda’s right leg and delivers a series of sharp kicks to said leg. Danny grunts sharply and tries to sit up, but Alexander steps over the leg and weaves it over into a stepover toehold, wrenching it to put pressure on both the knee and ankle.

 

“And here we are with some vintage Michael Alexander, focusing on the leg and grounding his opponent,” Mak points out.

 

“Yep, and this exactly where Danny Dagda doesn’t want to be,” King replies. “As good as Danny is, he can’t outwrestle Alexander or make use of his main set of power moves with a bum leg.”

 

Dagda growls now, and decides that enough is enough, raising his left leg to Alexander’s chest and shoving the Evil Genius off of him by main force, sending his opponent staggering backward and giving him a chance to get back to his feet.

 

King laughs. “And Danny Dagda counters it as only he can! He launched Michael halfway across the ring! I knew this was going to be good.”

 

Both men stare intently at each other, both a little more wary now. Alexander is the first to make a move, shooting in for a single leg pickup on Danny’s right leg. Dagda tries to steady himself, but he’s not used to this sort of thing, and hops to maintain his balance. The Mad Scientist offers his remedy to this situation by raising Dagda’s right leg sharply and clipping Danny’s left ankle with his right foot, causing the big man to collapse solidly backward to the mat. Danny, to his credit, quickly rolls over onto his stomach to scramble back to his feet. The Evil Genius is not about to allow the big man to get back to a vertical base so soon, and floats quickly over into a front facelock, forcing his opponent to support his weight with his neck and shoulders. Unfortunately for Alexander, Dagda quickly shows that this is not a particular problem for him, as he powers himself up from the mat, bringing the smaller man with him. Once he reaches his knees, Danny fires a series of punishing right hands into Alexander’s midsection, breaking the hold. The big man isn’t done yet, as he feels that he should return to takedown favor, and hoists Alexander up and whips him to the mat with a thunderous spinebuster! He smirks as he goes for the pin.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“ONE!”

 

“TWO…!”

 

NO! The Mad Scientist kicks out, shifting himself just enough to raise left shoulder off the mat.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

Mak shakes his head. “That little exchange illustrates the basic problem in this match…can Alexander’s skills and speed really counter the raw power of Danny Dagda. The results so far don’t favor Michael Alexander…”

 

King shrugs. “Well, we knew this was going to be a serious test for Alexander, but I don’t think even he saw things going this far south this soon. I’m sure Michael can deal with this, if Danny doesn’t break him first.”

 

Dagda shrugs and gets up, dragging Alexander up with him. Danny smiles maliciously and knees the smaller man in the gut. Alexander gasps at the impact, doubling over. Dagda then reaches down and lifts the Mad Scientist up over his head in a military press, and slams him contemptuously to the mat. Alexander arches his back in pain, rolling away from his opponent.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Big press slam! Dagda obviously is not suffering too much from Alexander’s work on that leg. This is bad news for Michael here,” Mak pronounces sadly.

 

“Well, it’s a bit early for that. But Alexander needs to avoid let Danny hit those big power moves, or he won’t stand a chance here.” King nods sagely.

 

Danny laughs at the crowd and his opponent. He stomps over and delivers a vicious kick right to Alexander’s back, sending the smaller man rolling toward the ropes. Alexander sucks in breath, trying to get his wind back after having it pummeled out of him. Dagda just smiles as he stalks Alexander until the smaller man manages to pull himself back up to his feet, then charges Alexander to hit him with a vicious clothesline that carries both Alexander and Dagda himself to the outside!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Cactus clothesline! Both men go the outside!” Mak yells.

 

“This spells trouble for Alexander,” King warns. “Dagda is at his most dangerous on the outside.”

 

Samson snarls out a count as the two men try to regain their feet. Danny is the first to get back to his feet, as he was prepared to the fall. The big man gleefully kicks Alexander solidly in the midsection, eliciting a grunt of pain.

 

One…

Two…

Three…

 

Dagda continues on the attack, hauling the smaller man back up and bullrushing him into the apron with a crunch. Alexander gasps in pain as his back crashes into the ring apron. Danny then grabs the Mad Scientist’s head and bounces it off the apron. Alexander stumbles a bit, but Dagda doesn’t let up, whipping the Evil Genius into the guardrail!

 

“Dadga is relentless tonight. Alexander is going to be in need of some serious chiropractic work after this,” Mak smirks. “It’ll be a wakeup call for him after all the people he’s sent to the docs after unnecessarily holding his submission holds.”

 

“The big boys play rough, and nobody plays rougher than Danny. Alexander can take it. The question is, can he take it and win?” King muses.

 

Four…

Five…

Six…

Seven…

 

Danny takes this opportunity to break the count by rolling in the ring for a second or two, then coming right back out. He smiles and shrugs as Referee Samson growls at him to get it back in the ring, and begins the count again. Dagda meanwhile stalks Alexander as the Eidolon is hanging limply on the guardrail. The big man, playing to the crowd, charges, going for a boot to the head designed to damn near decapitate the Evil Genius. Alexander expresses his intention to remain capitated by dropping sharply to the floor, leaving Danny to straddle the guardrail painfully as his big kick misses entirely.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“Danny’s ego got the better of him there, as he tried to showboat a bit too much, and it gave Alexander the warning he needed to get out of the way of that kick,” Mak observes.

 

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

 

The Mad Scientist pulls himself back to his feet as Dagda attempts to dislodge himself from his painful predicament. Alexander takes advantage of Danny’s difficulty with a sharp kick to his left leg, causing it to buckle and Danny to straddle the guardrail again with an impact that causes winces throughout the arena. Danny groans an octave higher than he would normally, and collapses to the floor.

 

King winces, but chuckles a little. “Danny’s ego is the least of his worries right now, I believe. Owch.”

 

Five…

Six…

Seven…

Eight…

 

This time it’s Alexander’s turn to break the count, drawing the ire of Brock Samson as the Referee snarls at him to bring it back to the ring, but is constrained to start the count again. The Evil Genius takes a moment or two to recover from the pummeling Dagda has dished out thus far. Danny is crawling back to his feet as Alexander approaches him. Knowing his best chance involves keeping Dagda off balance and off his power game, Alexander renews his assault on Danny’s right leg. He stomps away at the leg, refusing to allow the big man to get back to a vertical base without suffering a little payback.

 

“Alexander continues his attack on that leg. Hopefully this allows him to get some headway here.” Mak taps the table in thought.

 

“At the very least, he’s made Dagda think twice about those high kicks,” King smiles.

 

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

 

Danny snarls in pain, but manages to pull himself up on the guardrail, even with Alexander peppering his right leg with stomps and kicks. Alexander sees the writing on the wall, and decides to head back to the ring.

 

“Danny was too stubborn to let even Alexander’s concerted assault stop him from getting back up,” Mak states.

 

“Stubborn is an understatement. How many people have the guts to just pull themselves up out of an attack like that? Michael’s got his work cut out for him.” King adds.

 

Five…

Six…

Seven…

Eight…

 

The Evil Genius waits patiently in the ring as the big man pulls himself up onto the apron and steps slowly back into the ring. Danny is not so flippant at this point, but goes straight after Alexander. The Mad Scientist also wastes no time in going right to work with a series of crisp kicks to the inside and outside of Danny’s right leg. The leg buckles, dropping Danny to one knee, which Alexander uses as a stepping stone, spinning around to bring his heel into a violent intersection with the back of Dagda’s head. Danny collapses to the mat.

 

“Looks like Alexander still has some tricks up his sleeve!” Mak yells. “He’s going for the pin!”

 

“He might get it on surprise alone, but he hasn’t beaten Dagda down nearly enough to keep him down.” King brushes aside the possibility.

 

Alexander scrambles over for a quick pin, and Samson drops for the count!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

NO!

 

Dagda kicks out with authority, tossing Alexander off like a rag doll. The Mad Scientist looks at the big man in disbelief for a moment, giving Danny a chance to get back up to his knees. Alexander rushes back to hammer the big man with forearm shots. Danny shoves Alexander away, the force of the shove sending the smaller man careening away. Dagda then follows Alexander, pounding his opponent with clubbing forearms of his own, stunning the Mad Scientist.

 

“Dagda out with authority! Another reason to love Danny Dagda!” King chirps happily.

 

“Danny’s just plowing past every bit of offense Alexander’s offered so far,” Mak adds. “I don’t know what else Alexander can throw at him to keep him down.”

 

Danny grabs the Evil Genius and tosses him over the top rope, turning away to smirk at the referee’s warning. Alexander holds on to the top rope, however, keeping himself on the apron. He takes advantage of Dagda’s diverted attention to spring up onto the top rope, setting up for a springboard calf kick. The Mad Scientist springs off at Danny.

 

Unfortunately for Alexander, Danny was not as distracted as he appears, as the big man catches Alexander in midair. He shifts the smaller man onto his shoulder, signaling for an end to the proceedings with a quick cut across his throat.

 

“Danny caught him effortlessly in midair!” Mak yelps. “He’s signaling for the Condescension! If he hits it, it’s over for Michael Alexander!”

 

“There’s no getting out if he hits it, Francis,” King agrees. “But can he do it?”

 

Seeing what is coming, the Evil Genius kicks wildly, allowing him to slip out of Danny’s grip. Dagda is not so easily foiled, however, as he fires a sharp elbow into the head of Alexander as the Evil Genius lands on his feet.

 

“Alexander sneaks out, but Dagda still maintains control with that elbow! Michael just can’t seem to really keep Danny down, King!”

 

“Danny Dagda is a tough guy to keep down, Francis. But don’t count Alexander out just yet. Honestly, given the size and strength difference here, I’m surprised Alexander has done as well as he has so far.”

 

Smirking, Dagda whips the Mad Scientist into the ropes, and goes for a big clothesline. Alexander has other ideas, though, and as he bounces off the ropes, he drops and smashes into Dagda’s right leg with a vicious dropkick. Danny howls in pain and collapses forward. Alexander, seeing his chance, immediately rolls up to his feet. The Evil Genius grabs Dagda’s legs and weaves them around his own leg, hooking Danny’s right foot behind his own calf, and drops backward, tying the Gordian Knot! Dagda snarls in pain as the hold is cinched in.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“Holy Crap! The Gordian Knot! He clipped Danny with that basement dropkick and just slapped it on out of nowhere! Dagda’s in big trouble, King!”

 

“Anybody’s in trouble when they’re in this hold, Francis! Dagda might be the first to bull his way out of the hold though. And has Alexander done enough work to the leg to soften it up?”

 

“I don’t think it matters how soft the leg is once it’s twisted like that,” Mak replies.

 

Samson asks him if he can continue, and Dagda barks back a sharp retort. The big man tries to pull himself toward the ropes, but Alexander has no intention of allowing that to happen, and begins wrenching the hold, pulling both himself and Danny away from the ropes. While normally Dagda would have no problem with pulling both himself and Alexander along, the application of this particular hold means that not when Danny attempts to do so, he suffers not only the normal pressure of the hold, but his own strength works against him, putting even more pressure on his right leg. Danny strains toward the ropes, but they are too far. He tries to roll the hold, in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. Alexander bridges his body to block this maneuver, both increasing the pressure on Dagda’s knee, but also hampering Dagda’s ability to roll the hold. Danny howls in pain and tries once more to reach the ropes in a desperate lunge…which falls about six inches short.

 

“Danny is trying everything under the sun to get out, but Alexander’s countering him at every turn. How long can he last if he can’t escape this hold?” Mak slaps the table for unnecessary emphasis.

 

“He’s already lasted longer than anyone else so far,” King points out. “But there’s only so far you can go in that kind of pain.”

 

Alexander wrenches the hold again, wracking Dagda’s legs with excruciating pain. Danny can’t reach the ropes…Alexander has blocked his attempts to roll the hold…his mind races, trying to find a way out of the terrible pain. He does.

 

TAP! TAP! TAP!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

“Danny tapped! It’s been a hell of a long time since we’ve seen that!” Mak observes loudly.

 

“Yes it has. Danny got caught in that hold, and he wasn’t able to get out of it. Alexander continues his winning ways in singles competition. Dagda came close to derailing him though. Another night, another place, it could be a lot different. Both of these guys are that good.” King crows.

 

Samson calls for the bell, and Alexander releases the hold to have his hand raised as Funyon calls out, “Ladies and Gentlemen, here’s your winner…MMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIICAELLLLLLLLLL AAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLEXAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDER!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

Danny is gingerly trying his right leg as Alexander raises his hand. Alexander grins wickedly at the hobbled Dagda. Alexander rolls out of the ring and grabs Danny’s nerd outfit and tosses it back into the ring at him. Danny scowls at him, but Alexander’s grin is implacable as he walks back up the ramp.

 

“I don’t think Danny’s going to forget this anytime soon,” Mak warns.

 

“Nobody forgets losing on live TV, Francis.”

 

“Well, we’ve got to break, but we’ll be right back after this word from Electronic Arts!”

[chirs3 0]

“Welcome back to SWF Storm!” Mak Francis greets the home viewers. “In just a few moments we are going to be joined by the new SWF World Heavyweight Champion, Johnny Dangerous. King, you have to be impressed with the Barracuda now after his trouncing of Alan Clark, especially since you were so vocal about how Johnny had zero chance of winning the match.”

 

“I don’t have to be impressed with a damn thing!” King snorts. “Yeah, Dangerous came out here last week and took care of business. Was I wrong about Johnny? No. Was I wrong about Alan? Yes.”

 

“B-b-but that’s the same thing,” Mak responds, hesitant to try and make sense out of the Gambling Man’s response. “So you’re saying that Johnny didn’t really win; rather Alan Clark lost the match for himself?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” King replies. “Now, you see that I’m dressed for an endless night of fun in Sin City so can we hurry it up a little?”

 

Inside the ring is where Funyon stands. As the lights start to drop out a single spotlight shines down on the ring announcer, and already the din of the crowd haves risen.

 

“They know who is coming out in a few minutes and to say this crowd is a little excited would be a vast understatement,” notes Francis. “This is Las Vegas, the Barracuda’s hometown, and he’s coming out for his first night as the new World Champion here! These fans can’t wait to see their local hero!”

 

The crowd chants for Dangerous in anticipation…

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

‘JOHNNY DANGEROUS!’

 

The sultry female voices whispers the Barracuda’s name over the speakers as dozens of strobes begin to pulse from behind the entrance stage, “-and it appears the Barracuda has gone back to his former entrance,” reports Mak.

 

The strobes continue while similar ones strafe across the crowd from the top of the ring canopy.

 

‘I am the new way to go. I am the way of the future.’

 

The volume of the crowd rises exponentially as Johnny Dangerous makes his way out wearing his Sunday bests, silhouetted by the strobes and with occasional flashes reflecting off his expensive shades as he turns his head from side-to-side, looking out at his hometown crowd.

 

‘I am the new way to go. I am the way of the future.’

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

Johnny walks slowly down the ramp, not rushing, letting the fans see the title that sits snugly around his waist.

 

‘There’s a lot of innocent people being crucified...’

 

“FROM LAS… VEGAS… NEVADA!” Funyon bellows over the roaring crowd.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“PLEASE WELCOME HOME, THE NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW, CURRENT AND REIGNING SWF WORLD… HEAVYWEIGHT… CHAMPION… JOHNNY ‘THE BAAARRAAACUDAAAAAAAA’ DAAAAAN-GEEEEERROOOOUUUUSSS!!”

 

*BOOM!*

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Johnny pauses at the bottom of the ramp. He raises his hands to his face and takes off the shades before folding them up and tossing them to the crowd, then hops up onto the apron and steps through the ropes. Johnny unbuckles the belt, then raises it high in the air and turns full-circle so the entire stadium can see it, even the ones in the top tiers getting a good view thanks to the massive Smarktrons.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

The Barracuda climbs the nearest turnbuckle and raises his arms to the fans, still holding the belt in one hand, and the entire arena rises in response as camera flashes go off from all sides in such volumes that it’s almost like sheet lightning has descended into the building. Johnny grins, tightly; for all the work he had put into this championship bid nothing feels as good as sharing the victory with his fans at home.

 

Dangerous heads to the edge of the ring and calls for a microphone. He receives it promptly then turns to the crowd, waiting just a minute longer for them to settle themselves before speaking.

 

“Finally-”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Who the hell does he think he is anyway,” mutters King, “The Rock?”

 

Johnny Dangerous’ first words to the Vegas crowd are met with an absolutely thunderous cheer, and it takes the Barracuda back. Yes he had expected the crowd to be happy to see him but he never would have imagined it like this.

 

“Finally, I’ve come back home!” Johnny finishes. His lively crowd reacts with another cheer but he pushes through rather quickly to continue talking. “Believe me, getting here wasn’t easy. It took me about a year of slugging through the trenches, as I’m sure all of you saw each and every week. I fought everything from robots to the British and even some freaks!”

 

“Look who’s talking, eh?” King jabs the point of his elbow into Mak Francis’ side.

 

“So now that I’ve completed my mission of once again becoming the World Champion I am sure that everyone is dying to know what they can expect,” Johnny says. “Well, for starters… ”

 

Johnny digs into his suit jacket and pulls out a can of Pepsi Max. The crowd groans accordingly, for even though they are proud to see someone from their city as the SWF World Heavyweight Champion the object he holds in his hand just smells like more of the same old shit.

 

“Now, give me a chance to explain here,” the Barracuda says, sensing the crowd despair. “When Landon Maddix won the Clusterf(Bleep!)k he came out proudly supporting this beverage that I hold in my hand, becoming what I like to call a corporate shill! Do I blame him?” Dangerous raises his brow as he tosses out the question. “Honestly, I can’t. I mean it’s hard to say no to a giant corporation waving thousands of dollars in your face. However, when Alan Clark defeated Landon for the World Championship he too came out sponsoring this high octane boost of a drink. It was almost like he won the sponsorship deal with the title!"

 

"Believe me, I know, because after last weeks show was over with I was met with tons of congratulations from fellow superstars, but after I stealthily maneuvered myself past them I was staring in the face of representatives from Pepsi! I told them I would have to get back with them and here I am… ”

 

“Don’t tell me he’s sponsoring Pepsi Max now,” Francis grumbles. “It was funny when Landon did it, mildly amusing when Clark did it, but now? Come on, Johnny.”

 

“So Pepsi Max,” Johnny says, cracking the drink open and then holding the can up. “You can go sh(bleep!)t on yourself!”

 

Dangerous turns the can over, pouring all of the drink on the floor.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“That’s right,” Dangerous continues, tossing the empty can over his shoulder. “I’m not out here to sell soda! I’m not here to use my reign as World Heavyweight Champion to sponsor a trip to the dentist! No, I am here for the People - for each and every one of you!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“For the first time in a long while, a champion is here for those that come out to Storm every week and for those that tune in all over the world! I am not here to be someone who is above all of you, I am part of you - one of you! I am also here to lead a new movement in pro wrestling and that is what I like to call the Dangerous Nation! How do you join you ask? By being a fan of the SWF and supporting the Champion that supports you!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“So I ask all of you, my fellow neighbors in Las Vegas, Nevada,” Dangerous pauses as he slides out of the ring, steps over the crowd barricade, and goes into the crowd. Fans crowd closer around Dangerous leaving him encircled by at least a thousand of them. “Who will stand up and join the Dangerous nation!?”

 

“WE WILL!”

 

“Who is in the Dangerous Nation!?” Johnny shouts.

 

“WE ARE!”

 

“WHO IS THE CHAMPION OF THE DANGEROUS NATION!?”

 

“YOU ARE!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“It doesn’t stop here either!” Dangerous goes on. “At every show, those who are part of the Dangerous Nation can come out and be heard! And I challenge the Dangerous Nation to come out at Genesis and make a noise so loud that they will hear us in heaven!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Dangerous throws out his arms. All around him hands are patting his back and shoulders while the rest of the crowd chants for the Barracuda…

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

As we:

FADE OUT.

 

[chirs3 0]

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Jakey cries in vain as his machine is still not producing any output.

 

"Why don't you get up and move?" Amy asks.

 

"I don't want to walk far," Jakey whines.

 

"Well, we'll just switch machines or something, I can give this a whirl," Amy offers.

 

Jakey picks up his drink and switches spots with Amy. They both put bills in their machines.

 

"Dammit!" cries Jakey.

 

"How does this thing work?" Amy asks.

 

"How much do you want a bet at a time?" Jakey asks.

 

"I don't know, a dollar," Amy says.

"OK, then put 1 credit, 20 lines, spin," Jakey explains.

 

"Oh, I see!" Amy says, and does what she's told ...

 

...WHIRRRRR! WHIRRRRR! WHIRRRRRR!!! The red siren above the machine starts blaring, other casinogoers cheer as they watch the commotion, and a plethora of casino workers rush to the machine to unlock it.

 

"How about that?" Amy beams. "I won the jackpot on first spin without any previous experience! Oh, that's great!"

 

"Congratulations!" one of the workers tells her.

 

"You must be thrilled you brought her here," an innocent worker tells Jakey.

 

Jakey stands up and gives Amy a look of death.

 

"Oh, don't get mad at me!" Amy cries. "Some people just don't have the push of luck, that's all!"

 

Amy turns to the workers helping unlock the machine, but her joy is stilted when--

 

---SPLASH!

 

Jakey douses Amy with his full drink of double vodka Red Bull with grenadine! The red substance stains Amy's tourist T-shirt that cost her $5.95 she'll never get back ... But more importantly it fuels her temper! The casino workers quickly work like security guards as Amy lunges for Jakey! But they can't hold the former Hardcore Champion back as she flees her seat and takes down Jakey with a spear on the casino floor!

 

"Get her off of me!" Jakey yells, kicking away before security guards come in to pull them apart.

 

"LEAVE!" one of the guards yells at Jakey, who wipes off his suit and backs up while the guards hold back Amy.

 

"Good grief!" Mak Francis cries back from the arena. "She may be a big winner, but Amy Stephens and The Fabulous Jakey having a scuffle at the Palms Casino!"

 

"You can't bring SWF Stars anywhere!" Suicide King bemoans.

 

[chirs3 0]

“I'm just saying, we're in friggin' Vegas! Who the hell books a wrestling show in a sports arena in VEGAS? I have to walk, like, TWO BLOCKS just to get to the casinos now!”

 

“Maybe SWF management thought it would be irresponsible to air a program that children watch from inside a casino.”

 

“Oh, that's swell. What next – we can't have a show in a cigarette factory, because it might encourage kids to smoke?!”

 

“... King, when have we ever- you know what, forget it. Welcome back to Storm everybody – Mak Francis here, alongside a man who is clearly going into withdrawal, the Suicide King.”

 

“Withdrawal? I'll bet you $50 you're wrong. Wait, no, give me that!”

 

As King snatches away Mak's paper cup and attempts to construct a crude shell game, the arena descends into darkness. Winston Churchill's face appears on the Smarktron, prompting a round of cheers – suddenly, an animated MANSON dances onto the screen from the left side! His eyes glow with the power of MANSONOSITY, and he fires his laser beams at Churchill's head-

 

-but Churchill eats the lasers, and spits them back, transforming the Raging Bull into a complacent cow! He opens his mouth to moo, but instead we hear:

 

KA-BOOOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM!

 

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

As a wall of pyro erupts everywhere except the stage and ramp! Pyro on the steps, pyro on the guard rails, pyro on the announce table, but no walls of flame or smoke dare block the imposing sight of Jimmy the Doom and Fulminatus as they emerge from the curtain, to the tune of “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”!

 

“The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!” shouts Funyon, struggling to be heard over the combination of music and Jimmyisms that have started to spew from Smarktron Winston's mouth. “Introducing first, at a total combined weight of four hundred and twenty pounds... Jimmy the Doom, and the SWF New Blood Champion, Fulminatus – the Winston Churchiiiiiiill Expeeeeerieeeeeence!”

 

Led to the ring by Lois the Unethical and C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A., who tonight is decked out in a Jonestown High Marching Band uniform, Jimmy and Fulminatus take their time to post with various Churchill cardboard cutouts that fans have brought with them. As they enter the ring, Funyon nervously backs away, keeping his eyes on the rodent. Soon enough, Tiny Tim fades away, and is replaced with-

 

REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!

 

Perhaps it's the sheer awesomeitude of Winston Churchill that makes the fan reaction a little less than desired, but it's likely Landon doesn't notice and Raynor doesn't care – as Megan Skye swooshes the curtain and gets the obligatory “HAWT” pop from the crowd, the two take a moment on the stage – Landon plays to the crowd, and Raynor just kind of stares at the strangest thing he's seen since the second flying manatee.

 

“Their opponents, being accompanied to the ring by Megan Skye... weighing in at a total combined weight of four hundred and fifty eight pounds... Chris Raynor, and the SWF Hardcore Champion... Laaandoooooon Maaaaddiiiiiiiix!”

 

With C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. waving his baton in time with the music, La CucaRaynor makes their way down to ringside.

 

“These two seemed to work out pretty well last week,” Mak mentions, “even if their goals were not exactly in alignment.”

 

“If by that you mean completely retarded, then yeah, I can see that. Come on! Raynor pitched a hissy fit, Landon saw on opportunity to annoy Tom – that's really all they've got going for themselves!”

 

“That, and eight tag title reigns between them.”

 

Raynor and Landon climb through the ropes and head to their corner – one would assume they're discussing strategy, but given who their opponents are, one wonders how effective any strategy could be. On the other end, Winston Churchill is either debating the finer points of “Here is the Church, Here is the Steeple”, or attempting to do A.R.A.B.Y.P.A.C. Shadow puppets – at this distance, it's a little hard to tell.

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“No pre-match beatdown. How refreshing,” Mak notes.

 

After a brief commune with the spirits, Winston Churchill from beyond has selected Fulminatus as his official ambassador for the beginning of the match – after a moment of deliberation across the ring, Raynor steps to the center of the ring while Landon steps outside. The Rayn-man stops at the sight of his opponent, providing a nice contrast – as Fulminatus bounces on his heels, fakes left, jukes right, shadow boxes, and dances a quick jig, while Raynor stands absolutely dumbfoun-

 

*CRACK*

 

A spinning kick crashes into the side of Raynor's head! He snaps back to attention, wondering exactly what- doesn't matter, before he can finish the thought Fulminatus has already swung off to the side, where he throws a quick elbow strike into Raynor's jaw! In response, the Caveman throws a desperate swing in that completely misses the mark, and Fulminatus takes advantage by dropkicking him as he turns around! Raynor's knocked clean to the mat, and before he can even get to his knees the Dynamo has hit the ropes and comes back, leaping into the air and slamming his boot down onto the back of Raynor's head with Fortuna's Wheel, and straight into the cover!

 

ONE!

 

T- Kickout!

 

“Raynor looks completely lost in there,” Mak says, leaving it wide open for comment from the Suicide King, who is laughing too hard to respond.

 

The Caveman rolls away and gets to his knees, but Fulminatus is back on him in an instant! He grabs Raynor's arm and pulls him up, then delivers a few quick chops to the chest – Raynor makes another desperate swing, but Fulminatus again dodges, and brings Raynor crashing back to the mat with a drop toe-hold! He quickly rolls his opponent over into another cover!

 

ONE!

 

T-Another kickout!

 

Raynor gets to his knees and this time scrambles on all fours to his corner, slapping the outstretched hand of his partner!

 

“It looks like Fulminatus was just way too fast for him, King. Raynor couldn't keep up with his unpredictable style at all.”

 

“Man, does Landon know how to pick 'em or what?”

 

As Landon steps in, he immediately gets defensive as Fulminatus leaps towards him! The Dynamo throws a fast elbow, but Landon's no stranger to speed, and he ducks out of the way, and before Fulmie can turn around, Landon sends a stiff kick into his right knee! Fulminatus buckles for a second, and that's all Landon needs to wrap him in a reverse headlock and drag him away from the ropes, doing his best to keep him locked down tight! He bucks and flails, but Landon manages to quiet him down with a few shots to his stomach, then slams him down with an inverted DDT! He keeps ahold of Fulminatus' head, though, and brings him back up in the reverse facelock position, pounds at his midsection a few more times, then drops him in another inverted DDT, and this time stays on him!

 

ONE- Kickout!

 

Nowhere close to three, but Landon is undeterred, making sure to grab ahold of Fulminatus' arm before leading him back up to his feet. He whips Fulminatus into the ropes, but as he hits them, Landon immediately charges and buries a knee into his gut, stopping him flat! Fulmie doubles over, and Maddix takes the opportunity to deliver some stiff Kawada Kicks to his face, then heaves him back into La CucaRaynor's corner. But as Landon reaches out to tag Raynor back in, Fulminatus suddenly snares his hand and whirls around, cinching in a hammerlock, then delivers a basement dropkick to the back of Landon's right knee! Still holding the arm, he brings Landon back to his feet and hip tosses him back to the center of the ring-

 

-Landon lands on his feet and spins around with a discus clothesline, taking the rookie back down, but Fulminatus quickly springs back up, and Landon desperately plows into him and pushes him back into a neutral corner! He throws a punch, but Fulmie ducks out of the way and starts wailing away with chops of his own! After a quick set he pulls Landon out and goes for a shortarm clothesline, but La Cucaracha ducks behind him, then brings him up and over in a German Suplex-

 

-”And that looks like it may have finally ground the Dynamo to a halt!” says Mak, with some relief. “I was having trouble just keeping up with the kid.”

 

“Well we don't blame you for that, Gimpy, but there's no excuse why Raynor and Landon couldn't – they're just not good enough, plain and simple.”

 

“You... you do realize you're complimenting a good guy, right?”

 

“What? No! Never! I'm not complimenting Fulminatus, I'm just insulting those two invalids.”

 

Certainly Fulminatus now lacks a certain spring in his step, so Landon takes the opportunity to again throw him into his corner, and now tag in Raynor. The Rayn-man wastes no time in climbing in and pounding away on his opponent with a series of suspiciously closed fists, which transition to open palm strikes as the referee moves in to investigate. Raynor pulls his foe out of the corner and hooks his leg and head from the side, then drives him down with a forward legsweep! He then takes the opportunity to drive his knee into Fulmie's back a few times, before dragging him away from the ropes and applying a cover!

 

ONE!

 

T- Fulminatus kicks out with a little more gusto than Raynor would like, so the Caveman drives a few knees into his side this time, then brings him back to his feet, where he hooks him up for a vertical suplex. But as he lifts, Fulmie swings kicks off and swings his weight to the side, and he ends up falling backwards with Raynor's head into, delivering an improv'd neckbreaker! Both men are back to their feet relatively quickly, but Raynor's desperate dive to catch his opponent is fruitless, as Fulminatus breaks for his corner and tags in Jimmy the Doom!

 

“And this is why I hate good guys, Mak. Fulminatus' speed was winning out, yet he tags in the big dumb slow guy!”

 

“Did you not notice the German Suplex, the Kawada kicks, and general beat down-ery, King? Fulminatus was smart to get out when he did – he'll be able to bring that speed back later in the match, once he's more rested.”

 

Raynor's face shows he's not exactly thrilled with the tradeoff, but he makes the best of it as he and Jimmy lock up in the center of the ring.

 

“Last time these two met was... do I have to say this? Really?”

 

“It helps to get a few drinks in you.”

 

“The last time these two met was... Badger on a Pole... where Jimmy scored the submission victory. Under normal circumstances I might say that Raynor may have studied the tape to see where he went wrong, but really, there's not much to learn. He got beaten by a badger.”

 

Raynor may not have learned much, but Jimmy did – as the Caveman slowly pushes the Doomtopian back, Jimmy tilts his head to the side and bites Raynor in the arm! The Rayn-man howls and draws his arms in, giving Jimmy the perfect opportunity to toss a Hand of Doom into his opponent's throat! With Raynor's attention equally divided between his arm and his throat, he leaves himself wide open for a Yak kick, which drops him... well... like a Yak! And Jimmy floats into the cover!

 

ONE!

 

TWO- Raynor kicks out! Jimmy allows his foe to get back to his feet before throwing a second Hand of Doom - he then wraps his arms around Raynor's neck and hoists him up-

 

“Going for the Jimmy Bomb-”

 

Unfortunately, the glaring flaw in his plan is revealed as Raynor winds his right leg back and kicks a field goal into Jimmy's stomach! He then runs to the ropes and on his return leaps up, Scissor Kicking Jimmy's head straight into the canvas! The Caveman helps Jimmy back up, just long enough to whip him into the corner where Landon is waiting to be tagged in.

 

*SLAP*

 

And there we go. They exchange some words, then together they whip Jimmy into the ropes - as he returns Raynor lifts him up and lets him fall back in a Flapjack. Bad enough on its own, but made worse when Jimmy's face drops straight into Landon's outstretched knee! Raynor then takes his leave, and La Cucaracha goes for the cover!

 

ONE!

 

TW- Jimmy kicks out!

 

Landon keeps the pressure up by bringing Doomy McDoomsalot to his feet and delivering a few standing kicks to his legs – as Jimmy drops to one knee, Landon gives him a dropkick right in the kisser, and Jimmy falls back to the canvas.

 

"WHERE'S YOUR DOOM NOW, JIMMY!?" Landon yells down at the fallen Doomtopia native, not making a whole lot of sense.

 

With Jimmy down, Maddix now takes a turn at the junction, piefacing Fulminatus to try and draw him into the ring. Curiously though, Fulminatus doesn't get drawn in. Instead, he takes the pieface to it's most literal sense, licking the 'pie' from his face and complimenting Maddix on his bakery skills. For a moment Landon begins to thank him before realising the confusing nature of the 'conversation', all of which allowing Doom to sneak up behind him and HEADBUTT him right in the back of the neck!

 

"Unorthodox move."

 

"Which, for Jimmy, woudl be orthodox, right?" quips King.

 

"Uhm... don't, please. My head hurts enough in a normal Winston Churchill match."

 

"Is there such a thing?" quips King.

 

"Stop quipping at me already!"

 

After shaking off the effects of his own attack, Jimmy begins to make a move towards the tag. But, seeing that Fulminatus is ready to get back into the ring, Chris Raynor takes defensive action and runs into the ring,not so much piefacing as STEAMROLLERING him off the apron!! Fulminatus goes flying into the ringside barrier, leaving Jimmy in an empty corner, hand stretched for the tag. Capitalising, Maddix fires off a quick kick to the kidneys on Jimmy before whipping him across into the CucaRaynor corner. Raynor provides a little helping hand to keep Doom in the opposition corner, while Maddix charges in, leaping and landing a forearm strike in the corner.

 

"The tag team veterans that are Chris Raynor and Landon Maddix, cutting off the ring, using the illegal man to their advantage, all classic tag team tactics."

 

After a snapmare on Jimmy, Landon tags in Raynor. The bigman stalks into the ring and Maddix backs into him, making signals. And some on the fly teamwork results in Raynor lifting Landon up for a back suplex before throwing him forward, SPLASHING onto Jimmy!

 

"That was pretty good." Mak compliments.

 

Not too good for Landon, holding his ribs and regretting allowing himself to be thrown around by a guy the size of THE CAVEMAN~! Meanwhile, Raynor hurries him out of the ring so he can make the cover on Jimmy...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

No!

 

Another quick tag is made. Maddix doesn't look 100% ready for it, but takes it anyway. He's not going to argue now, is he?

 

"HEY, WACKJOB!" yells Landon, directed at Fulminatus. Naturally. "HOW ABOUT A WRESTLING LESSON!?"

 

Landon begins to pull Jimmy up.

 

"BEST.

 

 

HAMMERLOCK.

 

 

EVER!"

 

Landon applies a hammerlock.

 

 

FULMINATUS

 

"Ghey." snipes King.

 

Fulminatus continues to stand in awe of this, the best hammerlock EVER! Maddix really wrenches on it but unfortunately, Jimmy The Doom isn't buying into all this. Jimmy escapes it with a quick roll behind, spins Landon around and grabs him by the throat with both hands for the JIMMY BOMB!!

 

"Big move, but no cover from Jimmy?"

 

No. Instead, Jimmy stands back up and tries to decapitate Raynor with his Hand Of Doom! The Caveman is caught by surprise and collapses to the arena floor, giving Jimmy full chance to scuttle across the ring and make the tag to Fulminatus... who, to show he's such an old skool tag team specialist, insists on exchanging by way of the FOOT-TAG~!

 

"Foot tag! Fulminatus, in!"

 

"This is ridiculous. What am I saying, of course it is! It'd be even more ridiculous were it not to be ridiculous and feature pure professional wrestling and any degree of sense..."

 

"I thought I told you to stop that!?"

 

Fulminatus leaps into the ring and hits the ropes. He then goes diagonal to hit the ropes adjacent after realising he's set to completely miss his opponent. Landon reels around looking for the blur that's zipping around the ring and it comes flying towards him, clocking him with a knee strike. Off the mat bounces Maddix, back to his feet and into a hammerlock from The Cruiserweight Chaos Engine! After a mere second Fuliminatus releases him and boasts about his own hammerlocking prowess, only stopping to bonk Maddix on the top of the head with a tomahawk chop when he turns to attack him.

 

"Oh! DEADLY! DEADLY I tell you!" mocks King.

 

With Landon reeling, Fulminatus turns to see Chris Raynor coming in. Putting up his hands, Fulminatus waves them around, making sure Raynor's eyes are fixed on them as he slowly shimmies them towards the canvas. Raynor's confused eyes follow them until they touch the mat, at which point Fulminatus kicks him in his lowered head!

 

"Wow, a smart move from Fulminatus!" gasps Mak.

 

Fulminatus keeps the "jazz hands" shtick going as he hits the ropes. He hits them awkwardly as a result. Which might contribue to the SPINEBUSTER Raynor drills him with!! Landon has enough sense to cover...

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

Raynor looks to cut off Jimmy The Doom while the pin is being counted. Doom bypasses him though, sending Raynor out to the floor.

 

Meanwhile, Landon sets Fulminatus up for the Landon Eye. As he brings the arm around to comlete the move however, Fulminatus pulls a counter from his bag of tricks, pushing Landon away, into a running palm stri...

 

 

 

...NO! Landon ducks the running palm strike from Jimmy, CAUSING THE STRAIGHT-BREADER TO KO HIS OWN TAG PARTNER!!

 

"OH! There's a miscue!"

 

Doom looks down at his partner remorsefully for a second, before realising he's in the middle of a match with an opponent he's neglected to keep his eye on. He realises all this a second too late though, as Maddix hooks him up and delivers the Lungblower!! The Doomtopian rolls out of the ring, finally leaving the two legal men to go at it – not for long, though, as Landon makes a cover!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

T- Fulminatus kicks out!

 

Landon turns to tag Raynor back in, and is somewhat disappointed that his partner is still on the floor, recovering from his earlier spill. La Cucaracha brings his attention back to the Dynamo, who's gotten to a seated position – perfect set up for some Dragon Kicks! Landon unloads a round of stiff kicks to Fulminatus' spine – the rookie howls, and C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A. howls his sympathy in response.

 

“Would PETA hold it against me if I killed that thing?”

 

“They might, King, but I wouldn't. Knock yourself out.”

 

The Hardcore Champ drags Fulminatus up once more – this time he whips the Dyanmo into the ropes, and waits for him in the center of the ring. Fulmie hits and returns, and Landon leaps up and takes him down with a Thesz plant, prompting another cover!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

TH-No!

 

“Looks like they've finally managed to contain this kid,” Mak notes, as Landon quickly transitions into a headlock. “He was practically running circles around Raynor in the beginning.”

 

“And I wanted to be happy about that, Mak, but... it's Fulminatus.”

 

On the outside, Raynor's collected his wits and returned to his corner, a little stiff but grinning at the sight of his once feared opponent being cut down a notch. He calls out to Landon, and they make the tag – this time around, Landon sets him up and drops him with the Landon Eye, while Raynor scales to the inside turnbuckle to the second rope and leaps off, delivering a knee drop just as his partner rolls away! Landon exits as the cover is made!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR- No, Fulminatus just kicks out!

 

“He's got heart, King, you've gotta give him that.”

 

“I'm pretty sure I've gotta give every human being in here that, Mak. The only guy in this company that doesn't have heart is Ghost Machine.”

 

“Hey, he'd be a great addition to Winston Churchill, don't you think?”

 

“NO.”

 

The Rayn-man drags Fulminatus back up – the Dynamo gets a sudden burst of energy, as he bucks and flails to get loose from the facelock, but Raynor buries a knee into his gut, then quickly hooks and spins, taking him down with the Raynfall, and from there he covers again!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THRE-OH, Fulminatus kicks out before the last count! Raynor punches the mat in frustration, taking a moment to consider his next move, but for some reason Fulminatus takes this as an invitation to roll to his knees and scramble away! Raynor quickly dives on top of him, applying a headlock and grinding him to a halt before slowly leading him back to his feet... once there, he delivers a few fists to the Dynamo's kisser, then leads him over to a neutral corner and slams his face into the top turnbuckle one, two, THREE times, and then gravity does the work as Fulminatus collapses. The Rayn-man looks down incredulously, wondering how his opponent can still be so animated. He shrugs, then picks the Dynamo up for a quick scoop slam, but in a flash Fulminatus squirms free and drops behind him-

 

*CRUNCH*

 

-and eats a quick back elbow for his troubles! Raynor immediately pounces, clubbing him across the back to drive him down to the canvas. He cinches on a headlock and slooooowly brings him back up at his own pace – a few quick wrenches of the neck, then he wraps his arms around Fulminatus, looking for a Side Suplex-

 

-but the Dynamo throws his momentum into it and comes out on his feet! He takes quick dive for his corner, but Raynor snatches his leg in midair and yanks him back, and drops a hard elbow onto the back of his head, shouting “STAY DOWN!” on the way. He applies a front facelock and again brings Fulmie up with as much control as possible, pushing him back towards La CucaRaynor's corner, before swinging him around in a quick neckbreaker! He gets back to his feet and reaches out to Landon, who would probably make the tag if he hadn't just had his feet yanked out from under him! He collapses awkwardly on the floor, and as Raynor leans over the rope Jimmy the Doom leaps up and hangs him over the top! The Caveman is left choking as Jimmy sprints around the ring to his corner, and by the time Raynor has brought his attention back to Fulminatus-

 

*SLAP*

 

-it's already too late.

 

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

 

“Heeeeeeeere's Jimmy!”

 

“Lame.”

 

Raynor's hands have no time to cover his face, as the Doomtopian barrels across the ring and plows into him with a flying front kick! Raynor falls into the ropes, but the momentum unfortunately propels him forward into a headbutt! Again he's knocked back, but the ropes compel him to move forward into a second, a third, a fourth, and finally a fifth headbutt that leaves the Caveman as stupefied as his nickname! He stumbles out of the ropes, does a 180 on his heels, and falls flat to the canvas, and Jimmy goes for the pin!

 

ONE!

 

TWO- Landon attempts to break up the pin, but Jimmy rolls off, and Landon's boot goes square into his partner's face!

 

“Great,” King remarks with no attempt to hide his sarcasm, “apparently BOTH teams are dumb enough to fall for that.”

 

Landon has no time to apologize, as Jimmy lays into him with a series of knifeedge chops! He manages to back La Cucaracha into the ropes, then whips him across the ring – as Landon returns, he's taken down by-

 

“A... a flying hug, sort of... well, anyway, it worked.”

 

Megan grabs her man and pulls him out before he sustains more damage, and Jimmy turns his attention back to the legal man – the stars are starting to fade from Raynor's vision, and that simply won't do, so Doom locks in an arm ringer, then delivers the series of kicks that form The Doomsday! One to the stomach, a knee to the face, a swift kick to the back of the legs, and as Raynor is on his knees Jimmy swings a roundhouse to the back of his head!

 

WHOOSH!

 

... uh oh.

 

Raynor apparently has enough sense to duck, and Jimmy goes spinning as a result – Raynor latches onto his waist from behind, hoists him up, and drops him back down on his knee in an Atomic Drop! Jimmy is stunned, and Raynor decides to just plow straight into him with a right hand!

 

BOOM!

 

And Jimmy responds in kind!

 

BOOM!

 

Back and forth they go, each one reaching a half dozen before Jimmy starts to get the upper hand! He switches from fists to palmstrikes, and he manages to back Raynor into the ropes-

 

*tiny slap*

 

-where a blind tag to Landon goes unnoticed by the Churchill-ite! He hurls Raynor across the ring and prepares to meet him in the center, but Legal Landon sneaks in behind the Doomtopian! Just as Raynor hits the ropes and sees what's what, Landon quickly locks Doom's arms from behind in a full nelson, and to avoid yet another hot partner on partner sequence, Landon moves his head off to the side, so he won't absorb any of the-

 

“RUNNING BIG BOOT!”

 

-that pastes Jimmy in the face! Doomtopia's ambassador to the Americas goes collapses into the bottom rope... Immediately, Landon starts a-running, and Raynor rolls out from the side as La Cucaracha comes barreling back, leaps, and-

 

*KER-RACK*

 

“-absolutely obliterates Jimmy's sexy Doomtopian features with the Shining Wizard!”

 

There is an awkward pause at the commentary table, which makes it all the easier to hear the action that follows – Landon pulls Jimmy away from the ropes and makes the cover!

 

ONE!

 

Fulminatus leaps over the ropes-

 

*WHUMP*

 

TWO!

 

-or rather, doesn't, as Raynor grabs his leg and pulls him back!

 

THREE!

 

*DING DING DING*

 

“Landon Maddix with some quick thinking there-”

 

“Sexy Doomtopian features, Mak?”

 

“- er, with the blind tag, that, uh-”

 

“Don't dodge me, Francis!”

 

“...”

 

Raynor and Landon make a quick getaway, uncertain of just what C.A.P.Y.B.A.R.A's post-match routine entails, and not particularly wanting to find out – Jimmy stares up at the lights and, I don't know, maybe he sees Winston Churchill looking down in disappointment, as Fulminatus rolls into the ring with Lois to check on him.

 

“The winners of this bout... Chris Raynor, and Landon “La Cucarachaaaa” Maaaaddiiiix!”

 

La CucaRaynor wastes no time in heading up the ramp, Megan Skye cheerleading along as their music brings us to the Fade Out.

 

[chirs3 0]

 

“Ladies and gentlemen....”

 

‘When I was back in seminary school...’

 

The crowd pops, nearly drowning out Funyon as he shouts, “Please welcome...”

 

‘There was a person there who put forth the proposition...

that you can petition the Lord with prayer.’

 

‘Petition the Lord with prayer!’

 

“TOM FLESHER!”

 

‘YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER!’

 

With that, the explosion that heralds the opening of Led Zeppelin's “Kashmir” blasts through the arena, and the traditional blue explosion lights up Las Vegas as the SWF's commissioner steps through the curtain. As the arena lights up with flashbulbs, the fans can see that Flesher actually seems to be in a generally good mood.

 

“His dealings with Landon must have been kept to a minimum,” King suggests. Mak nods his head.

 

As the fans continue cheering, Flesher steps into the ring and stands in the centre for a moment, his expression serious as he motions for a microphone then grabs it when it’s handed to him.

 

“Good evening, Las Vegas,” he says. “I won’t take up too much of your time tonight, I just want to discuss an upcoming show… Genesis and the main event of the show-.”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“Wow!” marvels Francis. “The Dangerous Nation has yet to have their fill of the Barracuda.”

 

“Don’t say that – it’s stupid!” hisses King.

 

“You want Johnny again?” Flesher asks.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Well since this does concern Johnny Dangerous lets go ahead and have him come back out,” he says.

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“However, we really don’t need all the lights, music and other nonsense – we’ve seen it once tonight and that’s certainly enough.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Come on, now,” Flesher continues. “We have important matters to discuss and we’re on a tight time schedule. Johnny-”

 

“I’m here, Tom,” the voice of the Barracuda echoes out from the speakers, and then Johnny himself swipes aside the curtains and heads back out onto the stage.

No fancy lights.

 

No music.

 

Just the Barracuda, and just as Tom had wanted. Johnny heads to the ring, rolls in and comes to his feet in front of Flesher, holding his arm out for the Dangerous Nation to quite down so he can speak.

 

“You wanted me, so here I am,” Johnny says. “Earlier you told me to leave the Genesis match in your hands which I have, so what do you have for me now – I’m up to any challenge.”

 

“Oh, really,” Tom responds, the tone in his voice dripping with sadism. Flesher moseys along the length of the ring as he says; “Well I am glad to hear that, Johnny. Really, I am; what I have for you first is a real treat.”

 

“Who’s he talking about? We saw him talking to someone earlier in his office,” says Francis.

 

“You see, Johnny, I simply can’t have you running around with the SWF World Heavyweight Championship. Like I said dozens of times before and I’ll say it again - Johnny Dangerous is quite simply bad for business.”

 

The fans immediately turn on Flesher, booing loudly. He holds his hands up in a profession of innocence, and protests, “Listen, I wouldn't be telling you this if it weren't true. Johnny Dangerous not only brings our insurance bills up through the roof with his silly spy antics, but no one is willing to pay to see him. Even the highest-rated pay-per-view shows he headlined were backed by a strong sub-main event, and frankly, if you leave him alone as the headliner, well...” Flesher points his thumb to the mat and lets loose a bronx cheer.

 

“Let’s not even get on the Pepsi Max deal. Right now I’m sure Pepsico is blowing up my voice-mailbox after you’re little tirade earlier. These people were paying you… paying us money to sponsor them and you pull a stunt like that!? As if the red ink has yet to go away, now were hemorrhaging money!”

 

“ASS-HOLE!”

 

“ASS-HOLE!”

 

“Oh, shut up!”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“So I made sure to make a deal that guarantees the World Title leaves your waist at Genesis,” Flesher continues. “I went and got me someone that you, Johnny, in all the time you’ve spent in the SWF and SJL combined that you could only beat once. This is the guy that I was never able to beat and damn it if I didn’t try more than once!”

 

“Wait a second,” says Francis. “Someone Flesher never beat? Someone Johnny beat once? We heard him earlier talking about Johnny costing this person the tag titles and even discussing his new wrestling school! King, is he talking about Johnny’s tag team partner; the Wildchild!?”

 

“You know, Francis, you might be right!”

 

“But how horrible would that be!? How could Tom force Wild and Dangerous into Wild versus Dangerous!?”

 

“Horrible?” King is taken back. “How about getting injured in a tag team match where you loose the titles, and your partner’s only concern is going after the World Championship! This would be the best example of ‘something coming back to bite you in the ass’ that I’ve ever seen!”

 

“So Johnny,” says Tom. “Let me introduce you to this man that you know all too well-”

 

Suddenly, all the lights drop out. Amongst the crowd is a small murmur from those speculating on exactly who Flesher has chosen, but for the most part there is silence.

 

“-and a man you know you can’t beat!”

 

It is at this moment that every light in the arena hits full. A glance at the Smarktron shows that it has gone completely white. For a moment there is confusion, but then the awful truth starts to dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not that subtlety was ever the newcomer’s strongpoint.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

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

 

The rolling bassline of ‘The Gush’ by Raging Speedhorn starts to ooze over the PA system and the Smarktron quickly darkens down to black; as it does so jagged white letters flash up a slogan that Johnny Dangerous has grown very familiar with, one word at a time:

 

‘PREPARE TO BE PROVED WRONG…’

 

Three chords ring out. On the first we see Toxxic knocked from the top rope to the floor by a Nathaniel Kibagami springboard enzuigiri. On the second we see Michael Stephens taken from the top rope to the mat with a Super Mark Of The Beast. On the third we see him chokeslammed out of the Clusterfuck by Janus. Then the guitar drops out and the bass takes over again while Toxxic takes Mike Van Siclen off a balcony and through a table, the shot starting to strobe and intercut with a lopsidedly grinning face, the devastating landing timed to coincide with the moment the song kicks into gear, and the-

 

*BOOOM!*

 

-stagewide blast of red pyro that announces the arrival of the SWF’s premier straight-edger! And through the flame and smoke…

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

…red-and-black canvas trenchcoat flapping behind him…

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

…with a Stables Title belt slung over his right shoulder, and one of the Tag Titles he and Austin Sly won from Wild & Dangerous buckled around his waist…

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

…comes possibly the last man Johnny Dangerous would want to see walking down that ramp.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

In fact, probably the last person the fans would want to see walking down that ramp.

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

Suffice to say, he’s not that popular... but he is walking down that ramp.

 

“YES!” Suicide King yells in delight, “that’s what I’m talking about! Francis, I think business just picked up! Toxxic is going to humiliate Johnny Dangerous and take the World Title from him at Genesis again!”

 

“What, so Johnny Dangerous had to beat Michael Alexander for a chance to get a shot at Alan Clark, but Toxxic can just swan in and get a title shot on the biggest show of the year?” Mak asks, clearly annoyed. “This just stinks of Tom trying to pick the person whom he thinks has the best shot of taking the title from Johnny.”

 

“Yeah, and it’s a great choice,” King grins. Meanwhile the camera cuts to Johnny Dangerous’s face; the Barracuda’s expression is one of someone who had a nasty feeling he was about to get stabbed in the back, only to find the knife slipping into his side instead. As Toxxic rolls into the ring under the bottom rope and comes up to his feet with a mocking smile on his face Johnny readies himself, not sure if the Straight-Edge Sensation might try to jump-start things. However, instead Toxxic calls for a microphone and takes hold of it in one black-nailed hand.

 

“Now, normally I think everyone would agree that I’m not the sort of person to come when Tom Flesher calls,” the Englishman begins without preamble, “however, under the circumstances I thought I may as well appear to flesh out that little introduction he gave me. However,” he continues with another grin at Johnny, “there’s a small detail that you left out, Tom. Namely that I’ve faced off with Dangermouse here once before at Genesis and took the title from him. Now, I’m not that practiced in the art of forcibly removing confectionary products from pre-schoolers,” Toxxic admits, “but I must say that even without a direct comparison to draw on it seemed remarkably similar to taking candy from a baby.”

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

“Thank you Toxxic,” Flesher says, the ‘shut up’ audible in his tone of voice, before turning to Johnny. “You see Johnny, Toxxic has signed a contract in my office today, a contract I have locked away in my briefcase, behind the locked door of my office. I am not taking any risks with it, because it is very valuable to me. That contract is for a match…”

 

Toxxic’s grin widens.

 

“…for the Number One Contendership…”

 

Toxxic grin falters.

 

“…next week on Storm!”

 

Toxxic’s grin disappears.

 

“What the bloody hell…?” the straight-edger demands, rounding on the Commissioner. “Contendership match? You didn’t say anything about a contendership match, sunshine!”

 

“No, I didn’t,” Flesher admits with a small smile, “and to be honest I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to put one over on you, but you were too eager to sign to properly read the contract and it paid off. Because you see,” he continues, picking up a bit of steam in the face of the Englishman’s eyeliner-boosted kilowatt glare, “a lot of people think they can just announce themselves as the Number One Contender to the World Title. Jay Hawke thought he could do it, Zyon thought he could do it, Spike Jenkins thought he could do it… and you thought you could do it.”

 

“I did not ‘just announce’ myself!” Toxxic spits, “weren’t you listening Tom? I’ve beaten him,” he growls, jerking a finger at Johnny Dangerous who is now watching and trying to work out where Tom has hidden the second knife, “I’ve beaten Clark, I’ve beaten Spike, I’ve beaten Jay Hawke… I’ve earned this bloody shot, you stupid jackmonkey!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“TOXX-IC SUCKS!”

 

“Yes, you have earned it,” Flesher agrees amiably, “which is why you’re in the Contendership match next week. But there’s one other person who’s earned it - a person whom, by your own admission, you haven’t beaten-”

 

“OK, I’m getting sick of this,” Johnny butts in, pushing forward. “Toxxic, if you want a piece of me you just had to ask, I don’t need to wait for this clown to organize some scheme. Tom,” he turns his attention to the Commissioner, “quit playing around. I’ll face whoever wins that match next week, I’ll face them and beat them, but do us all a favour,” he gestures around at the crowd, “and stop giving yourself a hard-on with your own voice.”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

“JOHN-NY!”

 

Flesher’s smile sours, but he steps back and gestures towards the sound stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, Toxxic’s opponent for next week…”

 

“My money’s on Janus,” King mutters, “Toxxic’s never beaten him one-on-one…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and the synths of Paul Oakenfold’s ‘Dread Rock’ strike up with accompanying strobe lighting, while on the Smarktron Da Vinci’s Vetruvian Man is intercut with shots of a man in action in the ring… a man well known to the crowd and to Johnny Dangerous…

 

…and man who has just stepped out onto the sound stage.

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

King raves.

 

“It’s Michael Alexander!” Mak Francis shouts over the hostile reaction, “Revolution Zero beat Slaughterhouse Five in a tag match, but Toxxic’s never faced Alexander one-on-one! This can't make either of these guys in the ring very happy. Rookie or not, Alexander has taken out a laundry list of top SWF talent over the past couple of months. And he's got one of the most dangerous submission holds out there”

 

“Plus, Alexander nearly tore Johnny’s leg off the other week, and was cheated out of his rightful victory by our sham of a World Champion!” King crows, “what a great choice from Tom - this gets better every minute!! He’s surely the savior of the company!

 

The Professor of Pain is walking down the ramp, jaw-jacking with the fans as he goes, before climbing into the ring and raising his arms triumphantly. Johnny Dangerous sets his jaw and looks grimly at the man he struggled to beat to get his title shot at Alan Clark… then transfers his gaze to the man he has always struggled to beat in singles competition.

 

I think you both know him," Flesher says. "And next week, Toxxic, you and Michael Alexander will go one-on-one to determine who exactly will face our champion at Genesis."

 

Alexander swaggers forward to get in Johnny’s face, but then Toxxic places an arm across his chest and pushes him backwards, then gets in Alexander’s face and starts making certain pointed comments about who is going to Genesis here! Johnny has had enough of both of them and drops his title to head forward and give them both a shove to remind them who they have to beat, and both men round on him as Flesher ducks out of the ring!

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

*BAM!*

 

Alexander nails the Barracuda with a sudden right hook, rocking his head on his shoulders! Instantly the crowd roars out in disapproval, but then cheers as Stephens grabs Alexander’s shoulder from behind, spins him around and-

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

RIGHT!

 

 

LEFT!

 

 

...V-sign...

 

 

DISCUS CLOTHESLINE-

 

*WHACK!*

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Alexander is knocked to the canvas, flat on his back and Toxxic stands towering over him, breathing heavily as he stares down at the rookie with hate. However, he’s seemingly forgotten about the man who holds what he is ultimately after—the World Heavyweight Championship—and Johnny rushes in and kicks his foot into Stephens’ gut, doubling the Straight-Edge Sensation over!

 

“This is out of control!” shouts Mak. “We’ve got to get security out here or we’ll never get to Genesis!”

 

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Johnny quickly ducks under Toxxic and rolls the four-time former Champion onto his shoulders, ‘-and Dangerous appears to be looking for a Spinal Explosion!” shouts Mak. “He beat Alan Clark with this move!”

 

“Yeah, but he’s also standing in front of Alexander,” King adds in. “If he goes through with the move he’ll bring Toxxic down on top of Michael!”

 

The crowd sees this and is loudly encouraging the Barracuda to do it, and just as he is about a second away from executing an Spinal Explosion, an armada of security guards come out of the woodworks!

 

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Security forces Dangerous to put Stephens down and he does, but not without a less than gentle landing for Stephens. The crowd is nuclear at this point, as the brawl that looked so appealing is now nothing more than an afterthought.

 

“Fans, we’re out of time!” Mak Francis shouts, “but make sure you tune in next week to find out who wins between Toxxic and Michael Alexander, and who is going to Genesis to face Johnny Dangerous!

 

 

 

 

 

FADE OUT