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The SWF proudly presents...


LIVE to tape/DVD at 7pm EST, Tuesday 29th April, 2008, from the Halifax Metro Centre in Halifax, Nova Scotia!

Michael Alexander© vs Insane Luchador
2/3 Falls Hardcore

We chose the name of this show for a reason. After years and years... how many years? Six? Seven? Whatever. After a very long time the Insane Luchador now stands poised to take the top honour in the SWF. He's been the Hardcore Champion, he's been the Cruiserweight Champion, he's even been the ICTV champion, but now he is very very nearly the World Champion.

The big one.

In his way stands up-and-comer Michael Alexander, still a rookie, but what a talented one. Having dethroned Toxxic the Mad Scientist Of The Mat is ready to throw down again this seemingly unlikely challenger - but IL's hot streak has paid off, as his victory over Alexander's tag partner MANSON has allowed him to choose his stipulation, and he's gone for a two-out-of-three-falls Hardcore match. Can Alexander's mat skills help him, or is the deck stacked too far in favour of the Ill One?

Rules: No DQ, no countout, falls count anywhere. First person to get two falls, whether by pin or submission, wins the match and the title.
Word Limit: 7000
Send To: King Cucaracha

Grudge Match
Tracey Bruner vs Va'aiga

You know that old cliche about unstoppable force vs immovable object? Well, take your pick about which is which here. Bruner's got a few inches and nigh on a hundred pounds on the Maori Badass, but that doesn't mean that he's going to be able to stop the former World Champion. Va'aiga's been on a tear since his loss to Insane Luchador, and you know that if IL dethrones Michael Alexander he'll want a rematch with the big gold belt on the line. However, what will happen when he faces off against Sir Marvellous's bruiser? And what precisely is the relationship between Bruner, Marvellous and S.I.N.?

Rules: Standard singles. Try not to kill/squash/eat the referee, fellers.
Word Limit: 6000
Send To: Toxxic

Increasing Grudge Match
Annie Eclectic vs Taiga Star

You go, girls! Taiga came out victorious in a perhaps slightly surprising win over Annie at Downward Spiral, but Eclectic is nothing if not persistent (well, perhaps stubborn. Or stupid) and is raring to have another crack and her diminutive adversary. This provides easy booking for Landon and Toxxic, who've gone with the 'yeah, get on with it' approach and signed them up for Round Two!

Rules: ...not sure. let me know what you want.
Word Limit: 5000
Send To: Toxxic

S.I.N. vs 'Hollywood' Spike Jenkins
Spike's returns tend to be about as effective as cotton candy kevlar, but we know that when he DOES bring it, he's good. He gets to go up against S.I.N., who took a DQ loss against the Maori but stomped seven kinds of crap out of Va'aiga in the process. Spike, on the other hand, got knocked the fuck OUT by Va'aiga. Who's going to win in this battle of cagey veteran vs big newcomer?

Rules: Standard singles
Word Limit: 5000
Send To: King Cucaracha

Dance Dance Dragon vs TORU Takahara
Triple D wants to get back onto the road towards Cruiserweight gold. TORU... isn't a cruiserweight (despite competing against Wildchild under Cruiserweight rules once). Nonetheless, Landon thinks it's a good plan to throw the two together, so off we go! It's Japan vs Another Part Of Japan in a battle to the... three count. No, NOT Karagias, Moore and Helms.

Rules: Cruiserweight Rules
Word Limit: 5000
Send To: Dace59

Tod James Stewart & Daniel Smith vs Rikard Fleihr & Arne Andersen
Those foolish Norsemen. They've pushed TJS that bit too far with their post-match beatdowns, and now he's been forced to call in his backup. Enter Daniel Smith. We know nothing about him, but we're expecting great things. Norsemen, beware!

Rules: Tag
Word Limit: 5000
Send To: Toxxic

Send all marked matches, promos etc to Toxxic

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The screen stays black and the low beat of “Seven Nation Army” kick up as a gradually emerging picture comes into focus of the Insane Luchador, Andrew Rickmen in center of the ring with his arms victoriously raised in the air.


I'm gonna fight 'em off

A seven nation army couldn't hold me back


Insane Luchador’s yell is in the darkness-


“…Not you, not anyone, will be the one to keep it from happening, okay?”


They're gonna rip it off

Taking their time right behind my back


Insane Luchador is seen nailing the Event Horizon, Alexander’s finisher, against Alexander’s tag partner, MANSON!


And I'm talking to myself at night

Because I can't forget


Insane Luchador clutching S.I.N. in the Brink of Insanity is shown, putting them both through a barbed wire C4 table.


Back and forth through my mind

Behind a cigarette


IL comes close up into the camera’s lens and addresses Alexander-


“The Ill One is coming for you and please listen and please, please trust me on this- these aren’t idle threats.”


And the message coming from my eyes

Says leave it alone


Insane Luchador is shown exchanging blow-for-blow with Va’aiga, slightly being beaten out but recovering to deliver a hard flying knee.


Don't want to hear about it

Every single one's got a story to tell


Michael Alexander’s recent response to IL calmly warns while sweeping his arm across the locker room-


“Take a look at these items, Rickmen. Every one has stories to tell.”


Everyone knows about it

From the Queen of England to the hounds of hell


Alexander’s roll up is shown, followed by the aftermath with him holding his title and then quickly to MANSON is shown quickly followed by IL defeating The Fabulous Jakey with an Implant DDT straight onto an open chair.


And if I catch it coming back my way

I'm gonna serve it to you


Insane Luchador practically laughs before concluding to Alexander-


“I know that you don’t even know what’s coming at you at Hell Freezes Over.”


And that ain't what you want to hear

But that's what I'll do


Insane Luchador is seen diving off of a balcony, amazingly connecting with a moonsault against Erek Taylor through a flimsy table. Next the devastating Delenda Est is shown as Alexander dangerously delivers it to his own tag team mate MANSON.


And a feeling coming from my bones

Says find a home


Insane Luchador throws his arms into the air while his voice echoes-


“Michael Alexander, you have no fuckin’ clue what you’re facing once you step into the ring with the Ill One…”


Followed by Alexander’s confident voice predicting as the screen fades away-


“I'm going to break and twist things inside of you, and when I'm done you'll be just another subject to be resigned to the refuse heap.”

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"Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado… THIS is the opening bout of Hell Freezes Over. It is a tag team contest, set for one fall!"


The hot canadian crowd erupts at the announcement, as The Beatles' Helter Skelter fires up on the Metro Center's speakers.


"Introducing first: representing the Wrestling Clinic in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. At a total combined weight of 522 lbs, they are; Daniel Smith and Tod James Stuart… the Finch – Street – Fight Teaaaam!"


"We're live from Crosby Country, and we're set to settle some scores right off the bat! Welcome everyone!" declares Mak Francis.


Clad in his Wrestling Clinic t-shirt, Tod James Stuart steps out from behind the curtains, trying to look into the distance at how large this crowd really is. After that brief pause, he gets set to resume his way down the ramp, but he almost forgot that hey! He's got a partner! With the universal 'Hold up a minute' signal, Tod takes a few steps backwards and points an index finger towards the Go position.


"This week if you logged onto the website, among other things you got your first look at Tod James Stuart's promised partner." continues Mak. "A man by the name of Daniel Smith, who made short work of his first opponent. And here he comes!"


Coming through the curtains in turn, the 6'5", 285 lbs. Daniel Smith makes for quite the intimidating camera presence. He rejoins his newfound partner, as the duo embarks on a confident walk down the ramp. But first, Tod intercepts the intrepid cameraman for a little dialog between you and me.


"I said I'd go back to the well, and I did!" offers Tod James Stuart. "And I brought back this quite large motherfucker to help me out! Oh and, um… if you want a little scoop, Mr. Camera Man, I'd suggest you take a little trip backstage…" he concludes with a smirk.


"What's he mean by that?" asks Suicide King, with growing suspicion.


As we switch to a wider shot, we can see the stage cameraman take a quick jog behind the curtains. Meanwhile, Daniel Smith has already walked up the ring steps, wiped his feet on the apron and entered the ring, doing a few shoulder rolls and arm stretching. Tod quickly follows suit as he steps on the nearest second rope and offers the crowd a confident fist to the air. While t-shirts are promptly removed and tossed to the crowd…


"Wait a minute," begins Mak. "We're getting word from backstage… We got a camera back there, let's check out what's going on."


We quickly cut to past the go position as the camera man is seen jogging his way through the corridors and towards the lockerroom area.


"What the hell is this?!" asks the incredulous King.


Amidst the sea of hollering road agents, we see two writhing bodies on the cold concrete floor, one unconscious and the other clutching his leg in intense pain.


"It's the Norsemen!" exclaims Mak Francis. "Olaf Andersen and Tolland Blankhardt appear to have been assaulted and they're motionless on the floor! Things are going crazy in the back!"


Throughout the commotion, we see a crazed Helle trading words with referees Eddy Long and Anthony Michael Hall while the just arriving Rikard Fleihr and Arne Andersen convey shock and anger at the sudden state of their allies. Meanwhile in the arena, we can hear the beginning of Amon Amarth's 'Pursuit Of Vikings' erupting through the speakers.


"Looks like the tables have been turned, King." states Mak. "Normally it's the Norsemen who are the ones leaving people laying. Olaf and Tolland look seriously hurt!"


Cutting back to the ring, we see Tod James Stuart staring at the Smarktron with a satisfied smirk. For anyone that hasn't connected the dots yet, Tod elbows his partner on the bicep in a quite obvious "We did that, all right" manner.


"And if you want to find the culprit, or culprits I should say, then look no further than who's in the ring at this very moment!" claims Suicide King.


"If that's the case, then it's pretty clever strategy on the part of Tod James Stuart and Daniel Smith, who chose to be addressed collectively as the Finch Street Fight Team." replies Mak. "With those two out of the way, that's two less distractions for them to worry about. We can finally look forward to some even odds here, King."


Back in the locker room area, Norsemen Fleihr and Arne are seen trying to stay with their fallen comrades, but referee Ced Ordonez and several of the road agents are trying to usher them towards the arena.


"C'mon guys, you gotta go out!" pleads Mr. Ordonez.


"Quiet, punk! We're gonna find whoever the hell did this and teach him not to mess with us!!"


"I'm serious, Rik!" continues Ced. "You gotta go now, they've cued your entrance!"


With 'Pursuit Of Vikings' still playing for two additional minutes, the opposition finally makes its presence felt. Both remaining Norsemen are power walking towards the ring, quickly shedding any unnecessary clothing.


"And their opponents; they are members of the Four Norsemen: Arne Andersen and Rikaaaard – Fleeeeihr!!"


Funyon barely has time to complete his introduction that the two elder Norsemen are already sliding in the ring and trading blows with their Canadian opponents. As the ring announcer safely retreats to his table, Tod James Stuart and Rikard Fleihr are throwing evenly matched right hands while Daniel Smith is absorbing everything that the Norseman powerhouse is throwing at him in terms of forearms to the chest. As the bell rings and referee Nick Soapdish hops out of the way, Arne Andersen's efforts to send Daniel Smith on an Irish whip trip across the ring proves fruitless, as Smith is able to reverse the hold into a hard short-arm clothesline. For his part, Tod James Stuart finds himself ducking a charging Rik Fleihr, sending the Norseman SAILING over the top rope and onto the floor. With Arne rolling to the outside to regroup, the Norsemen reconvene to the outside in order to discuss a new strategy plan. This also allows Nick Soapdish to establish a bit of order and show the Finch St. Fight Team to their assigned corner.


"The Norsemen will have more than their work cut out for them." states Mak. "If you've seen Daniel Smith in action on SWF.com, you saw him take apart Chance Silver in just a few minutes. In his own right, Silver is a great athlete but I've never seen him tossed around to such a degree!"


"Did you fall and hit your head and your arm rest while trying to reach for that high up box of Honey Bunches Of Oats again?" asks Suicide King. "The Norsemen are a bit smarter than that! Sure, Tod's got the advantage by getting himself an ape-sized tag team partner, but Rikard Fleihr has slayed mightier dragons than this, Mak Truck! Everyone's got a weakness, even this Dan Smith guy. It's all a matter of time until finding his, and exploiting it and exploiting it until you get the desired results. And THAT is the Norsemen way."


Once spirits have slightly calmed down, it's finally decided that Dan will start against Rikard Fleihr. Both men jockey for a lock-up position, but Fleihr has him successfully faked out as he quickly brings up his right hand and pokes his larger opponent in the eye. Smith is stunned from the tactic, which in turn will allow Fleihr to shove him back to a corner despite the size difference. He rears back for his trademark knife edge chop…




…but the hand is caught. The usually vocal Fleihr is now speechless at the sight of the annoyed Daniel Smith holding his chopping appendage with a firm grip. Just as Fleihr starts wailing in pain from the suddenly intense pressure being applied, Smith casually steps out from the corner and calmly switches places with Fleihr, who's now backed up against the turnbuckles. Fleihr's pleads seem to work as Smith slowly lets up on his extreme handshake… only to let out a powerful roar and unleash a vicious series of forearm shots to Fleihr's head!


"I think for now that thumb to the eye was Rikard Fleihr's worst idea of this match so far." states Mak. "That just served to fire up Dan Smith even more, and now he's on the receiving end of 285 lbs worth of forearms to the head!"


Just as Soapdish gets to the count of 4, Smith lets up on his forearm barrage. With a firm grip of Fleihr's left wrist, Smith rends him running to the opposite corner courtesy of an Irish whip. Not letting up, he charges immediately after him and flattens his opponent with a hard corner splash. Holding onto Fleihr's arm, Smith takes a step backwards and yanks the unwilling Fleihr into another punishing short-arm clothesline. He punctuates the onslaught by dropping a heavy elbow to the Norseman leader's chest.


"I'm liking what I see so far from Dan Smith, King." says Mak. "He calls that the Domi Special. I'm not the biggest hockey follower, but I know just enough that Tie Domi is another Toronto resident with an affinity for plowing into people."


"Personally, I don't get it." replies King. "I don't know if I could ever respect such blind loyalty to a hockey team that frankly wasn't even that good this season! But notice Daniel Smith isn't going for the cover right away. I think he and Tod are trying to have a little fun at the expense of the Norsemen. If they're not careful, it's gonna cost 'em."


"Finch St. Fight Team, wearing the royal blue as a tribute to their hometown of Toronto. Finch Street, from what I gather, is also the location of Tod's wrestling school in Toronto. Nothing wrong with a little hometown pride, King."


"…I just wanna point out how I really really enjoy my newly built and quite large residence in Miami."


Just as soon as Smith had connected with his elbow to the chest, Arne Andersen displays a blatant disregard for the rules as he enters the ring, charging at the large Torontonian. But Tod James Stuart already has anticipated that as he himself also enters the ring to counter Andersen with a tackle. The Fight Team muscle the enforcer up to his feet and into a corner, where they then proceed to send him across the ring with a hard Irish whip. Smith preps himself for another corner charge, but first… Tod hops onto his back? With Stuart riding piggyback, Smith charges with the extra weight and collides with an even harder corner splash onto Andersen. Switching places with his partner, Tod grabs hold of Arne's wrist and yanks the Norseman into another one of Smith's soon to be patented hard clotheslines. Stuart then walks once again into his partner's arms, who lifts him up into an atomic drop… and then drops him into an elevated back splash onto Arne!


"And that one they call the McSorley Special!" utters Mak. "These two are certainly coming up with some interesting moves."


"Are they gonna have a funny name for ALL of their moves?!" asks King, letting his annoyance show.


"Yeah, I got the whole list right here." replies Mak.


While the rarely flustered Suicide King sighs at the defeat of his argument, referee Nick Soapdish is seen attempting to put some order back in this match. With Rikard Fleihr deemed too shaken to begin proper, Soaps decrees that Daniel Smith and Rikard Fleihr are the legal men. Having taken enough time to recover, the Norseman leader is back on his feet and being properly motivated by his ally and enforcer Arne Andersen. After receiving a manly shoulder rub from Arne, Fleihr shakes one more cob web out of his head and turns around to return to the action… and is met with a large hand around his throat! Dan Smith was waiting patiently all this time for his moment to strike. With Fleihr firmly locked in a goozle, Smith lifts up his opponent and drives him to the canvas with a massive seated chokeslam! Smith adds a double chest slap which he holds into a pinning predicament.


"And there's the Miracle On Yonge Street by Daniel Smith!" says Mak Francis with an exaggerated enthusiasm that he knows will irritate his partner. "Man, these are clever move names, I'm having a blast calling this match! The cover!"









Lunging in at the last second, the pinfall is broken by Arne Andersen with a kick to the shoulder blades of Dan Smith. Before Arne can think about getting the advantage on his larger opponent, it's -Tod- who lunges into the ring, spins Arne around, boots him in the stomach and plants him with a quick but effective snap DDT. He grabs the dazed Andersen by the scruff of the neck, takes a few steps with him and sends him soaring over the top rope and to the outside!


Before Nick Soapdish can get in the middle of this party, Tod quells his fury with a calming motion of the hand. He then backs the official into a corner, adds a 'This'll just take a second' motion. Now with both members of the Fight Team standing over the fallen form of Rik Fleihr, they exchange a nod. Following Tod's signal, both men suddenly unleash a flurry of kicks and beatdown stomps to Fleihr's body!


"Well now THAT's a nice blatant disregard for the rules!" says King. "You suppose they have a fancy name for THAT?"


"Well, seeing as Tod and Dan are both proud Canadians and fans of anything Toronto, it's only obvious that they'd find an appropriate-…"


"Just say the goddamn name."


"Stomping Tom Sayer."


Soaps was going to make yet another attempt at law and order following the double team, but decides on a more lenient stance once he spots Arne Andersen crawling back into the ring. Arne, aiming for the first Canadian he sees, charges at Tod with a clothesline but it's ducked under by Stuart. Using Arne's momentum, Tod holds onto him with a rear waistlock and is then able to successfully lift him up into a german suplex. At the same time, Dan lunges behind the two and catches Arne's head into a big time neckbreaker!


"Get your pass ready, Arne Andersen, because you're Riding The Rocket tonight!!" exclaims Mak Francis, indifferent and amused at Suicide King's bemusement.


Once Tod has finally regained his corner, Dan eyes his prone opponent and flashes a symbol that hasn't been seen on SWF TV in over five years, a figurative gunshot to the head.


"Looks to me like Daniel Smith's signalling for the Spirit Breaker!" says Mak. "The same finishing maneuver that once belonged to Tod James Stuart, now you could say it's been handed down, so to speak."


Smith runs Andersen's left arm in between his legs and hooks his right arm, immobilizing him. Andersen tries with all his might to block the move, but his strength is no match for that of Daniel Smith's. He hoists the Norseman up on his shoulder, but the desperate Arne frantically uses his very last resort of flailing his arms around and burying his fingers in Dan's face. Staggering around, but not letting go of his victim, Dan manages to back into his corner where awaits his partner Tod with a mighty slap on the back that Nick Soapdish will allow as a tag. Just as his feet safely hit the canvas behind Daniel Smith, Arne flashes a quick throat slash signal, spins his opponent around and goes for his patented double leg pick-up…


"And now Arne Andersen is going for that devastating Spinebuster of his!" offers Mak. "The Norsemen have gotten next to NOTHING in match so far."


"But if there's one move that can turn the tide around, it's this one." offers King back. "… that is if he can get the opponent off the mat first."


Try as he might, Arne is unable to lift up the 285 lbs Daniel Smith into the Spinebuster. Smith cuts all of his momentum short with a heavy clubbing forearm to the back that nearly crumples the Norseman to the canvas.


"Even if he did, it wouldn't have done much good, seeing as Tod Stuart just tagged himself in, King. I get the feeling they're done playing around and want to put an end to this!"


Having sneaked behind Andersen, Tod grabs the Norseman into the Burning Hammer position, with one arm grabbing the near leg and the other holding the head. Rather than lift him up on his shoulder, Tod swings Arne's legs out from under him and forcefully DRIVES the back of his head into the mat!


"There's our first ever look at the Brain Go Splat!" exclaims Mak Francis. "A very basic, yet fitting name if there ever was one. I've been talking to Tod and he's told me that he's been looking for an occasion to fit in this particularly nasty move for a while now. Arne Andersen is OUT!"


While Nick Soapdish rolls the unconscious Andersen out of the ring, the Finch St. Fight Team looks at their one remaining target. The man behind the two beatdowns on Tod James Stuart, the man responsible for halting another man's desired path to redemption: Rikard Fleihr. With Helle in hysterics at ringside, the two Canadians share a long glance where Tod holds up four fingers… and turns it into a thumbs down. Both men share an evil grin while Tod leaves the ring to climb up to the nearest top rope while Dan picks up Fleihr and appropriates him into a standing headscissors. Wrapping both massive arms around Fleihr's waist, he effortlessly lifts him up into a powerbomb with his back towards his partner who's perched on the top rope. In an impressive display of timing; Tod leaps off the top rope and connects with a hooking clothesline, adding extra weight to Dan's already dangeround snap powerbomb. As Smith lands on his knees, Rikard Fleihr is like a fish out of water as he contorts his body in pain, but he's soon motionless as Tod leaps on top of him into a lateral press with the leg hooked. Dan adds to the weight by pressing down with both hands on his partner's back.
















The bell rings upon the cue of Nick Soapdish, signaling the end of this match. The twangy notes of Helter Skelter begin to play throughout the arena as Funyon makes it official.


"Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners: The Finch - Street - Fight Teeeaaam!"


Proud to finally say he can get an actual win again, Tod James Stuart looks on with a proud smirk as he watches the fallen Norsemen collect themselves. Tolland Blankhardt, clutching his head, and Olaf Andersen, limping; pull their leader and ally out of the ring. Olaf helps his brother to walk back down the ramp while Tolland is escorting the barely conscious Fleihr.


"A victory tonight for the first outing of the Finch Street Fight Team." states Mak Francis. "And as far as first and second looks go, I don't think Daniel Smith is going to disappoint here in the SWF."


"I'll admit, sure, he showed some fire and intensity. He's a big strong guy that can dish AND take a beating, but I've seen my share of these piss and vinegar newcomers that try and make a name for themselves and think they're ready to take on the world. So Tod James Stuart went back to the well and returned with the largest student at his school in Toronto. Is he the next hottest sensation of the month? Or next big bust? Only time will tell…" states Suicide King.


"But for now, we got much more coming up! Tonight! The Insane Luchador finally gets to go after the gold, as he takes on Michael Alexander for the SWF World Championship in a Two Out Of Three Falls Match with Hardcore stipulations! That and more, but coming up in just a few, we got some high flying cruiserweight action, so stay with us!!"


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With the opener in the books, we go backstage and into the Commissioner's Office, complete with working door (for now at least)! Landon Maddix sits back in his desk with a contented smile on his face, feeling pretty good about life evidently. Even despite the fact that resident airhead interviewer Emma Dumas is standing by with microphone in hand waiting to talk to him.


"Hi everybody, I'm Emma Dumas and I'm here with Landon Maddix. He's the Commissioner which means he makes all the matches and stuff. Hi Landon! I'm glad to see you got your door fixed!"


"Well, uh..." Landon stammers, trying to find the right way to talk to Dumas. "...this is actually a different office. Because we're in a different city tonight. Is Halifax a city? I'm not sure actually, my geographical knowledge isn't that great. (calling off-screen) MEGAN, GET ON WIKIPEDIA AND CHECK THAT, WOULDYA? (to Emma) Anyway, the cheque for the damage is still pending. Next question please?"


"Okay. So, uh, you share the office, right?"




"How's that like then? Do you get on well with The Toxxic?"


"About as well as one could expe... wait, did you just say The Toxxic?"


Emma nods a little too enthusiastically.


"You don't happen to have any other family members who are broadcasters, do you? A grandfather, perhaps?"


"I'm sorry, I don't get that reference." Emma smiles back, speaking for probably a few people watching right now.


"Nevermind. Me and 'The' Toxxic get on as well as one could expect, considering our history. I like to think that the majority of that is water under the bridge now. We had plenty of battles in the past, against each other and side by side. Now, it's time to find some common ground. I mean sure, we have the odd creative difference now and then but that's to be expected. Having an 'alternative' take on life in general isn't all bad. Now, did you have any questions that didn't specifically involve my office and who's in it, Emma?"


Chewing her fingernail, Emma's eyes suddenly light up.


"Ooh, yes! I was wondering what you thought about the main-event tonight?"


"Well, as Commissioner I can't comment too much seeing as I'm all about the impartiality. But, if you ask me IL's been on a roll recently. He's been picking up a lot of impressive wins, especially when he's in the hardcore environment... which as the current possessor of the Hardcore Gamers Title, I can tell you is no small feat. Thing is, sooner or later, the gas tank is going to hit empty. Or, maybe that should be the 'blood' tank. Yeah, that's a better analogy. Real clever." Landon admires his word work for a second. "So, in the end, I think the real winners will be everybody who buys the DVD. So, go ahead, go out and get it folks because you won't want to miss this one!"


"Uh, Landon?" Megan asks from off-screen. "If they're listening to this, wouldn't they have already bought the DVD anyway?"


Landon thinks about it, opens his mouth...








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The pulsing electronic beats of ‘Tribe’ by Mad Capsule Markets start up and the arena is pierced into by strobe lights as we go back to the arena/skip whatever just happened last on our DVD. The letters and numbers 'T K O' '2 K 8' flash up on the Smarktron interspersed with images of the recently returned duo in their previous SWF appearances.


"Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. On the way to the ring first, he is a member of TKO and weighs in at two hundred, sixty four pounds... accompanied to the ring by Chris Card and Natasha. Hailing from Saitama Prefecture, Japan... TAKAHARAAAAA... TTOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!"




Chris Card and Natasha lead the way for the mighty TORU as the first guitar riff hits, then fold their arms and glower out at the crowd while the muted Japanese chanting builds up to...




‘TRIIIIIIBE! Why don’t you strike, justify your mind!’


A burst of pyro goes off behind before TORU marches to the ring with his head held high. Card has a typically confident look on his face, as the biggest member of TKO is disrobed by Natasha before jumping to the ring apron and then in, up and over the top rope.


"TORU doesn't look in a great mood tonight, to the surprise of no-one who's ever been around him." Mak states.


"Is it any wonder? This idiot Funyon can't even get his name right!"


"That's how they do it in Japan, King. And this is a battle of Japanese superstars tonight. The Japanese, dare we say 'strong-style' competitor against the very unique Japanese junior heavyweight, Dance Dance Dragon, here in... uh, Nova Scotia, about as far away from Japan as you can get."


TORU finally removes his shades and scowls out at the crowd, before scowling down the aisle when the intro to "Hung Up" by Madonna begins to play. A surprisingly large reaction goes up, dying down through the admittedly very long intro, only to resurface when The Dance Dance Dragon and his Dragonesses walk out. The song's pace kicks up and so do the dancing skills of Triple D as he lights up the holographic DDR pad at his feet.


"And, his opponent! He comes to us from Heaven's Dancefloor... weighing in at two hundred and nineteen pounds! This is THE DANCE... DANCE... DDRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR - AAAAAAAAGGOOOOOOOOOOONN!!!"




"We haven't seen Dragon in action since February at From The Fire, but he's been itching for competition and to get another shot at Cruiserweight Champion, Wildchild."


Dragon dances down to the ring, leaving his dance troupe behind. TORU's own troupe watch on from the ring and don't look impressed at all with the flashy cruiserweight.


"A big test for Triple D tonight, he's never competed against someone the size of TORU in the SWF."


"Dragon isn't so much 'cruiserweight' as he is 'Flesherweight', at 219." analyses King, in his favourite way possible, name-dropping his buddy Tom. "Infact, let's be brutally honest and point out how that all-over bodysuit of his sorta hides a pretty pudgy physique. Which has worked out great so far... against other cruiserweights, in the Cruiserweight Division. But TORU isn't a cruiserweight. He's a 260 plus pound bad-ass."


"If The Dance Dance Dragon can use his speed though..."


"Well sure, Dragon's agile for 219, but TORU's just as agile for 264. So it's not a huge advantage."


With Card and Natasha dispatched to the floor, TORU stretches out his large upper body in preparation for lots of striking. His stretching slows down though as he becomes distracted, almost hypnotized even, by Dragon who is swaying rhythmically on the spot across the ring.





The bell sounds and Dragon's swaying doesn't stop. There he stands, rocking back and forth, the crowd wanting to feel included and deciding to clap along to the beat only he can hear.


"Oh Lord." groans King. "Has this moron danced so much that he's forgotten how to stand still? Is that what's happening? Do I really even want to know?"


TORU looks mighty confused at this and turns to Card, who seems just as bemused and just shrugs his shoulders with the sage advice, "Just kick his ass". Cracking a smile, TORU looks to do just that and rushes Dragon in the corner with a clothesline. Dragon breaks out of his trance just in time to duck the line though, trapping TORU in the corner and unloads with a right hand.






...chop. And a right hand.






...chop. Right hand.






Chop, Right hand.


"Forget the Democrats and the Republicans, it's The Violence Party dominating on this Super Tuesday!"




With TORU momentarily dazed, Dragon looks for an irish whip out of the corner. TORU is able to reverse, but Dragon reverses right back to get the whip in the end. Into the opposite corner goes TORU, followed in by Dragon with a Running Elbow Strike in the corner. A needless backflip later and Triple D is feeling good, until Takahara bursts out of the corner and lays Dragon out with a running elbow of his own!


TORU points at Dragon, "YOU...", then mimes swatting a fly away, "...MOSQUITO!"


"HA! You tell'em TORU!"


Pulling himself back to his feet, Dragon is momentarily dis-orientated and walks into another elbow strike. TORU then fires off three quick, low kicks to the back of the knee. But Dragon fights back, connecting with an elbow of his own. That only serves to piss TORU off though and he returns fire. Down goes Dragon from the elbow, rolling back up immediately but right into his opponent's clutches. Clutching Dragon around the head, TORU pulls him down face-first into his knee. Dragon collapses in a heap and Takahara makes the cover...


















"TORU might not even have to break the rules at this rate." King predicts sadly.


TORU fires in another knee on the canvas still angered that Dragon would dare to try and strike with him. By the mask he then pulls DDD onto all fours, taking a step back before driving the knee into the side of the head.


"Those knees will stop any fun and any dancing in a hurry."


With Dragon dazed, TORU backs up into the ropes. Up he goes, looking for a kneedrop... but Dragon moves out of the way and TORU lands on nothing but solid canvas! TORU hobbles up and Triple D is there to meet him with an elbow. And a second. Already past the point of anger at being hit, TORU lets out a loud shout and swings back with his own elbow. Dragon ducks it though, then takes TORU down sharply with drop toehold. The bigman (in SWF terms anyway) pops right back up, only to go right back down with a second drop toehold. Card shouts out some advice, fearing TORU is losing his composure as he walks in wildly again. This time TORU steps clear of the drop toehold and flips him the bird, pulling him up to his feet... only to get jarred with a Jawbreaker!


"Here comes the speed into play for Triple D." calls Mak.


"Card needs to get TORU out to regroup."


Off the ropes comes Dragon, TORU ducking his head instinctively but Dragon reading it and going up and over with a sunset flip...

















TORU charges and misses with a clothesline, turning around into a flurry of kicks. The Masked Dance Assassin tries to chop the sturdy base out from underneath TORU by targeting the legs before going to the chest. Busting out a quick 'running man', Dragon then becomes a running man in his own right as he hits the ropes, swinging high with a palm strike...




...too high, as TORU sweeps him up onto his shoulders, into a fireman's carry, throwing Dragon up in the air...



...but losing him in mid-air, as Dragon goes down the back with another sunset flip attempt. A failed attempt, as TORU gets himself set this time and reaches down to grab two handfuls of the back of the mask! By the mask he blocks the pinfall and pulls Dragon back to his feet, backing him into a corner and driving his knee into the stomach. Referee Sexton Hardcastle catches up with the action and warns TORU about grabbing the mask. But TORU's limited understanding of English means he thinks the referee is telling him to grab the mask, which he does, shaking Dragon's head around like a ragdoll until the referee breaks it up.


"What was that you were saying about cheating earlier, King?"


"That wasn't cheating, just a mis-understanding. He was just doing what he was told. Or, what he thought he was told."


"TORU is prone to losing things in translation from time to time, when it suits him." Mak sneers.


While Card steps in to try and 'clear up the mid-understanding' with the referee, TORU grabs the mask again out of sight of the referee. A mask-mare sends Dragon tumbling to the canvas for the kneedrop TORU was looking for earlier, hooking up a leg...


















Straight from the kickout, TORU goes right back to the mask; specifically the laces attaching it at the back. Referee Hardcastle has shaken off Card in time to put a stop to the unmasking, thankfully. Caught red-handed, TORU is all to quick to apologise and proves how sincere he is by fixing Dragon's mask. It only takes Hardcastle a couple of seconds to spot how tight the tassels now seem to be around Dragon's throat though.








Again TORU is apologetic and holds up his hands innocently. He even tends to Dragon by stroking his head, like a wounded cat. Another ploy, of course, as when Card tries to explain away this indiscretion TORU slams his closed fist into the side of Dragon's head.


"See, now that was cheating." King smiles. "And it was beautiful."


Allowing Dragon back to his feet, TORU sends his trusty knee into Dragon's midsection again before setting him up for a whip. TORU then takes a step in and scoops Dragon up and connects with a Powerslam...


















TORU lifts Dragon up via the mask once more, ignoring the warnings this time as he quickly scoops Dragon into his arms again. Up and over the back goes Dragon however, reaching back and bringing Takahara down on the back of his head with a quick Neckbreaker!


"Nice quick counter from Dragon... and, what is this?"


What it is is Dragon kicking TORU's arm over his chest, in a strangely familiar manner. After a few quick DDR steps, Dragon then runs the ropes, going up and over the chest of the prone Takahara with a leap, off the opposite ropes... and finding No Through Road, as TORU pops up to meet him with the devastating Spinebuster!!




"Nobody home on the DDR Elbow!" groans Mak.


"You've made some ridiculous calls in your time Mak..."




"No, nothing. I just felt I should point that out at this point in our tenure."


TORU shakes his head arrogantly, then decides to rub further salt into the wounds of the masked man as he kicks his arm over his chest.


"Now wait a second, what is THIS? A TKO Elbow?"


No dance moves, no funny hand signals. TORU flips the double bird to Dragon before he himself hits the ropes. He gets up a lot of steam as he comes off the ropes, going up and over the chest of the prone Dance Dance Dragon...







...and then nonchalantly kicking him in the side of the head with his heel!!




"Have I told you how much I missed TKO recently?" beams King.


"They're definitely your kind of people."


Cover by TORU...




















TORU takes Dragon into a corner, throwing him face-first into the top turnbuckle. That one felt so good, he feels compelled to do it again, just 'cause. Scooping from behind, TORU then attempts to place Dragon up on the turnbuckles but finds some stern resistance. Dragon swings out behind him a couple of times to fight TORU off, turning himself around on the ropes and taking a quick jump... right into the arms of Takahara. Sinking in a bearhug, TORU walks across the ring to drive Dragon spine-first into the turnbuckles. Still he carries Dragon and drives him into the next set of turnbuckles. Showing impressive strength, TORU then switches Dragon up stage by stage onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry, taking him into the centre of the ring where he deposits him across his knee with a Gutbuster!


"Ah, don't do that TORU. He's got plenty of padding there. Go for the head, not a lot of protection up there."


Standing over Dragon with a sly smile, TORU gestures to Card that he barely felt a thing delivering that move, making visual reference to Dragon's stomach.


"Nevermind. It was totally worth it." chuckles King. "Remind me never to doubt TORU again."


Eventually, TORU decides he should go for a cover...



















Sitting Dragon up, TORU tries to sneakily wrap the tassels on the mask around the throat and conceal it with a rear chinlock. He's not quite sneaky enough to get past Hardcastle however...







TORU breaks on four, prompting Card to yell out to Hardcastle, "See, he's learning!"


"D - D - D!"

"D - D - D!"

"D - D - D!"

"D - D - D!"


As the Nova Scotia crowd start to chant their support, Dragon's foot starts a tapping, a sure-fire sign that he's still in the match and still feeling the beat. TORU's knee in the side of his head threatens to put pay to that though. TORU then flips off the crowd, which only increases the volume of the support for his opponent.


"We've seen over the past few months, Dragon has earned this sort of 'cult following' in the SWF. And a lot of that can be contributed to his guts and determination."


"That and the loveable loser aspect."


"Dragon's coming in on the back of two big wins, King..."


"I was meaning more loser in life."


Backed into a corner again, Dragon is penned in and winded by a series of knee strikes delivered up under the ribcage. TORU then turns Dragon around and looks to put him back on the turnbuckles again, for whatever he was setting up for earlier. Dragon again has other ideas though, pushing off the top turnbuckle with his feet and floating over behind. Grunting, TORU turns around...







...and gets caught with a knifedge chop!







And a second!







And then a third! TORU shakes them off and looks ready for more, but Dragon goes back on the move instead and hits the ropes. A clothesline from TORU misses the mark, DDD going underneath and coming back with a running dropkick! TORU rolls back to his feet, Dragon running in with a second dropkick! Up comes TORU again, Dragon coming at him again... TORU sidesteps a third dropkick... but Dragon rolls out of the way of an elbowdrop and then lands a dropkick to send TORU out through the ropes and to ringside!


"The tempo is rising and that's just how The Dance Dance Dragon likes it!" enthuses Mak.


As TORU stands shaken on the outside trying to get his wits about him, Dragon lines him up. Getting a full run-up across the ring, Dragon comes charging back AND TAKES FLIGHT THROUGH THE TOP AND MIDDLE ROPE WITH A TOPÉ!!!




"That Dragon got wings~!"


Dragon picks himself up off of TORU and affords himself a quick dance, before he sets about trying to get TORU back into the ring. With some difficulty he dumps him back inside... but as he goes to follow, two hands clamp around his ankle!


"Damnit, Card getting involved, as usual."


"Maybe he wants to dance? You don't know that's not what's happening!"


With TORU suffering a sudden eye injury for Hardcastle to deal with, Card is able to pull Dragon down from the apron and to the floor. His attempt at a right hand gets blocked though, allowing Dragon to pop him in the face with an elbow strike!




Down goes Card, but still standing is Natasha and she's waiting with the AEROSOL EQUALIZER, spraying it right into Dragon's...





...uh, MASK!!


"I don't think that's gonna work somehow!"


Some of the pepper spray gets through the porous part of the mask, but it's clear Dragon isn't as affected as most are by the trusty Aerosol Equalizer. Natasha sees that Dragon isn't down in agony, only irritated and panics, deciding to try and hit him with an aerosol can assisted right hand... but Dragon ducks AND CARD GETS CLOCKED IN THE HEAD!!


"Down goes Card!" cheers Mak.


"Oh no!"


As Natasha stands shell-shocked over Card's body, Dragon quickly gets away while he can. Pulling himself to the apron, Dragon's eyes are still stinging clearly as he stops to see what he can do about it. The onrushing TORU causes him to forget about it quickly, Dragon weaving through the ropes with a shoulder to the gut. Dragon then rolls himself up and over the back of TORU, back into the ring where he connects on a Hurricanrana, cradling the legs a second later...





















Back up first, TORU connects with a boot to the gut and looks to hook the arms for the Tiger Driver! Dragon quickly spins out though, pulling TORU in looking for some Blue Thunder! TORU's 264 pounds proves a tough task to lift for The Masked Dance Assassin and he blocks, elbowing his way free. Off the ropes, TORU then swings with a big-time LARIAT... DUCKED, Dragon using the momentum to this time get TORU up and HIT the Blue Thunder Bomb!!


"He got him up, is this going to do it?"






















"No way." scoffs King.


Pulling TORU back up, Dragon lays in definitely with more elbows. Now, they seem to be having a little more effect than earlier. And he softens TORU up, giving him time to hit the ropes again. Another palm strike goes array however. Kneeing DDD in the kidneys, TORU threads the far arm through the legs in a pumphandle. He then applies a half nelson on the near arm and lifts Dragon up...




...but somehow, Dragon uses his supreme body control to twist inwards and come out in something resembling a prawn hold...





















"Man, Dragon also stole it out from under Takahara's nose right there!"


TORU strikes first as both men scramble back up, buckling the knee with a hard kick. Down to one knee falls DDD, giving TORU a glimmer of a Shining Enziguri. Dragon catches TORU coming in though, trying to get him up into a fireman's carry... which he barely does, before TORU slides down the back and folds Dragon up with a Backdrop Suplex!!


"Just incase you forgot these two were Japanese." quips King.


Dazed, Dragon winds up on one knee...











"Ooh, that could be the knockout!" cringes Francis. "Right to the back of the head, that's where knockouts are made, kids!"


Smiling to himself, TORU flips Dragon over and makes the lateral press...
























"But a pretty nonchalant cover, if you ask me." Mak criticises.


"I don't recall doing so."


Getting on the referee's case, TORU stalks after Hardcastle only for the referee to stand his ground. TORU makes a few complaints, then notices Dragon trying to get back up and leaves him be. Handful of mask, he pulls Dragon up, paintbrushing him across the back of the head a couple of times. Once Dragon is up, TORU then hits the ropes and looks for his Busaiku Knee Kick...





...but the eternal question of 'how the fuck do you kick someone with your knee!?' will not be answered just yet, as Dragon sidesteps! TORU pulls out of the knee before taking off completely, thus stays on his feet.


"Had that knee scouted, but that may only be a momentary reprieve."


As TORU comes to a stop, Dragon turns and charges. TORU is waiting on him though, taking The Bemani Bruiser down with an STO! The back of Dragon's head bounces off the mat and he stays down, in perfect position for TORU as he slaps the top turnbuckle, indicating his desire to go up.


"The bigman, maybe taking a risk?"


"Hey, anyone who's seen TORU in action knows this big guy can fly. It's a risk, but it's a calculated risk, one which is going to pay dividends should he land it!"


TORU scales the turnbuckles pretty quickly for a man of his size, sizing Dragon up as he gets his footing. First, Takahara launches a top-rope snot rocket towards his opponent. Then, he launches his entire body, touching his toes in mid-air for a Frog Splash...











"The risk did not pay off!"


"Oh, congratulations you. Nobody likes a know-it-all." snaps King.


Holding his stomach, TORU gets back up and Dragon latches onto him in a 3/4 headlock, looking for a Dance Dance DDT... but two hands in the BUTT send him up and over the top on his way upwards. Dragon ends up stumbling into the corner and TORU rounds on him.









TORU runs face-first into two feet to the face! With TORU dazed, Dragon then turns away and runs up the turnbuckles, springing back off the top rope with the MOONSAULT PRESS...






























"...HE GOT HIM!"


The crowd in Nova Scotia erupt as TORU kicks a second too late, the three already counted and the bell already being sounded!














"Come on now!" cries Mak, as CHRIS CARD lays out Dragon from behind with a clothesline! Having sat up with his mouth agape in shock, TORU quickly snaps out of it and joins Card in putting the boots to Triple D, Natasha also lending a foot or two.


"Go ahead Mak, say it. It's murder on the dancefloor!" chimes King. "What, no more puns now?"


"Dragon won the match fair and square, this is totally uncalled for!"


"He won it on a fluke and if there's one thing TKO hates, and for the record there's not, there's many more, but mainly, it's flukes!"


Card and TORU stomp away on Dragon, until TORU steps in and pulls Dragon back up. The Genius backs up and encourages TORU to "make him pay", as he underhooks both arms and DUMPS HIM WITH A TIGER DRIVER!! Two more middle fingers and a slap to the face are further parting gifts for The Masked Dance Assassin, before Card calls TORU off and the disgruntled trio head for the back.




"What a pair of sore losers." chastises Mak. "What a group of them! We saw the same thing with The Fabulous Jakey at Downward Spiral, now they lay waste to Dragon as well! I can only hope Commissioner Maddix is watching and has some fines ready to be doled out to these lawless thugs!"


"Me too. Can you imagine what KOJI and TORU'd do to him? Get a camera on that and watch the DVD sales spike!"


Dragon is left laid out in the centre of the ring as we fade out/skip to the next chapter.

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The scene opens up backstage with the Smarks Wrestling Federations resident backstage enforcer, Ben Hardy!


“Ben Hardy here, live backstage in the Halifax Metro Centre for SWF Hell Freezes Over! Tonight is a history making night, as our main event for the SWF World Championship is one of the most anticipated matches in recent memory! But right now, I would like to introduce a man who is making his return to the SWF tonight after a hard loss to The Maori Badass, Va’aiga a month ago. Without further ado, I present ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins!”


“Hollywood” Spike Jenkins walks into the camera view, looking well rested and prepared for his upcoming match.


“Spike, in just a few moments you will go out there and take on a man who is on a little bit of a mean streak lately. A man who is much bigger than you, who out-weighs you and has a distinct strength advantage over you. That man is S.I.N.! What are your thoughts?”


“Well, first off Hardy, I would to commend you on a job well done. You, my good sir, are very capable of pointing out the obvious. Yes, S.I.N. is much bigger than me. Yes, S.I.N. is much stronger than me. And yes, S.I.N. is on a little bit of a mean streak. But one thing you have to understand, Ben, is that I do not take anyone lightly. I never underestimate anybody. Even if their move set consists of moves named after the seven deadly sins. No matter how unimaginative or uninteresting they seem to be! Yes, Ben! I now know how to counter out of such devastating maneuvers like Gluttony or Sloth!”


“Umm…” Ben Hardy stumbles as he tries to understand what he is hearing. “Are you making fun of S.I.N. two minutes before you go out and wrestle him?”


“Ben, what I am saying is this. I’ve been in the ring and beaten everyone this company has to offer. No matter how big, no matter how strong. They lined them up and they have all fallen before me. Yes, S.I.N. is bigger and stronger. But what does that mean to me? Nothing at all. I am faster; I am smarter; I am better. I am a conniving son of a bitch and I will do whatever it takes to win.”


“Strong words from Spike Jenkins!” says the buffoon announcer. “While I have you here, how about some thoughts on tonight’s main event between Michael Alexander and Insane Luchador?”


“Thoughts?” The New Straight Edge Sensation says, slightly taken back. “You want my thoughts? How about that I should be in that match? If there is one person in this god forsaken place that deserves the SWF World Heavyweight Championship, it is me. So Ben, you want my thoughts? How about this? Yes, I am focus on defeating S.I.N. tonight, but I’m thinking long-term. I’m thinking I want the SWF World Heavyweight Championship and I will stop at nothing to get it!”


“Well, by defeating S.I.N. tonight, you will put your name up for consideration as a future challenger!”


“For once in your life, you are right, Ben. After I defeat S.I.N. tonight, my name will be up for consideration. But that isn’t good enough for me. I want my title shot and I want it now. But I know that the Commissioner and his lackey, my nemesis Michael Stephens, will do whatever it takes to assure that I don’t receive a shot at what is rightfully mine! So this is what I am going to do. I’ll be as fair to the management and booking team as I possibly could. Right here, right now, I am issuing a challenge for next month against the LOSER of tonight’s main event. That way, if Michael Alexander retains tonight, I’ll destroy Insane Luchador to prove that I deserve my title shot.”


“But what if Insane Luchador defeats Michael Alexander?” asks Ben Hardy.


Jenkins chuckles to himself. “Heh, if by some miracle that does happen…I’ll beat the former World Champion and the man who ended Michael Stephens reign of terror, Michael Alexander. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go beat the hell out of a certain Bronx native.”


Jenkins gives an evil glare towards the camera and storms off, leaving Ben Hardy alone.


“Well, fans, up next! ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins battles S.I.N. live at Hell Freezes Over!”





The lights in the arena flash and the music dies down, as we return live to the Halifax Metro Centre in beautiful Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada!


“Fans, coming up next is a match that has been dubbed The Battle for New York,” begins the ecstatic Mak Francis. “A returning ‘Hollywood’ Spike Jenkins takes on the six-foot-six, Puerto Rican monster known as S.I.N.!”


“Why do we continue to book Spike Jenkins? This guy has literally less friends than SWF World Champion, Michael Alexander! He at least has MANSON!”


“My former protégé in Spike Jenkins is a top athlete here in the SWF,” the paraplegic announcer defends. “Sure, his attitude has changed over the past several months, but that doesn’t mean we can forget about his past accomplishments! Former SWF Cruiserweight Champion, SWF Hardcore Champion, SWF Tag Team Champion and he was one of the final three in this years Clusterfuck!”


“How can you defend the man that put you in that wheel chair, Francis?” the Suicide King asks.


“He was going through a bad time and he made a mistake. We have both settled this and it is now in the past!”


The lights begin to flicker around the Halifax Metro Centre as the violent guitar riffs and the blaring drum work of The Agony Scene’s “Scapegoat” blast through the PA system. The screams of lead singer Michael Williams pierce the ears of everyone in attendance.


Abandon, broken and bleeding.

A feast for their eyes, a spectacle.

A martyr of the forsaken.

A scapegoat for their suffering.


Red strobe lights begin to flash and smoke rises from underneath the top of the stage, as the audience waits for their first glimpse at The New Straight Edge Sensation.


Burn Me Alive…











With that, the crowd goes into frenzy as “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins steps out from behind the curtain. Jenkins stomps down the entrance ramp, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt that covers most of his face. With a cocky grin on his face, Jenkins passes by the jeering crowd as they cry out.


“The following contest is scheduled for one fall and has a twenty minute time limit,” booms Funyon from inside the ring. “First, making his way to the ring. He weighs in at a total of two hundred and five pounds. Hailing from Long Island, New York…he is the NEW STRAIGHT EDGE SENSATION……’HOLLYWOOD’ SSSSSSPPPPPIIIKKKKKEEEEEE JEEEEEEENNNNKINNNNNSSSSSS!!!!”


Spike climbs up the steel steps and onto the ring apron. He climbs up to the middle rope, unzips his sweatshirt and tosses it to the side. Jenkins stands tall and proud, waving the middle finger around at the crowd around him. He climbs over the top rope and leaps into the ring.


“Spike looks to be in top shape tonight, but he will have a huge test in front of him in the Ghetto Superstar!”


“Huge test? That’s the understatement of the century,” cries out The Suicide King. “Did you see what S.I.N. and Tracey Bruner did to Va’aiga at Downward Spiral two weeks ago? They destroyed the Maori Badass! Not an easy thing to accomplish.”


“Oh, come on, King! That was a sneak attack on one half of the World Tag Team Champions. And later on tonight, Va’aiga gets an opportunity for revenge as he battles Bruner, one-on-one!”


The lights in the arena go dim and silence falls upon the crowd. After a few seconds, the silence is broken…




“Come Home with Me” by Cam’ron and Dipset plays over the loud speakers as Sammy Irizarry Nunez makes his way out from behind the curtain. S.I.N. stomps his way down the entrance ramp, ignoring the boos of the crowd.


“AND HIS OPPONENT!” booms Funyon. “He weighs in at a total of two hundred and sixty-five pounds. He hails from The Bronx, New York…he is SAMMY IRIZARRY NUNEZ….HE IS SIIIIIIINNNNNNN!!!!”


S.I.N. climbs up the steel steps and onto the ring apron. Barely gazing at his opponent, he places one giant foot over the top rope…





…And before he can get the second one over, Spike Jenkins is on the attack! Jenkins charges the giant Puerto Rican and throws repeated right hands at the chin! SIN steps over the top rope, but is too dazed to stop the assault by Jenkins. Even Referee Sexton Hardcastle is taken back. He calls for the bell and tries to get in between the action!




“Spike Jenkins goes straight to the attack on the giant Puerto Rican from the Bronx!”


“If he didn’t, SIN defiantly would have gone for the first shot. And when you’re in there with someone who is half a foot taller and sixty pounds heavier than you, you’re going to have to do whatever it takes to gain the advantage!”


Spike continues the assault, but SIN puts his hands up to block the incoming shot. He grabs Jenkins by the neck and shoves him back. The Straight Edge Superstar stumbles back, allowing the giant Puerto Rican to shoot forward and throw a wild right hand…but Jenkins ducks underneath!


“Spike has been keeping a good distance and using his speed against S.I.N. The giant brawler from The Bronx hasn’t been able to get his hands on his opponent yet!” remarks Francis.


SIN turns around to face Jenkins…who already unleashes a side kick straight to the abdomen! SIN is momentarily stunned as Jenkins follows up with two more razor-sharp kicks to the chest/abdomen area.


“Mak, how effective are Jenkins’ strikes going to be against someone as big as S.I.N.?” asks The Suicide King.


“While it may not look like it, Spike is very technical with his striking. His kicks and elbows are always on target. They can slice through you like a cold wind. But when he is against someone as big as S.I.N., you never know.”


SIN staggers from the effect of the kicks, giving Spike the opportunity to run the ropes facing his opponent. He bounces into them and charges back towards the Bronx native…but SIN raises his arm up, ready to take the head off of Jenkins. But the much faster Hollywood Superstar ducks underneath the clothesline attempt and continues into the ropes. Jenkins bounces off of them and charges back towards SIN. SIN turns around to face Spike…just as the former Cruiserweight Champion leaps into the air and connects with a running front dropkick straight to the chest!


“Spike Jenkins just launched himself into the air and connected with that running dropkick!”


“We’ve seen him use that maneuver against smaller opponents, but never on somebody the size of S.I.N.!”


Unlike the usual cruiserweight opposition, SIN stumbles backwards into the ropes, just barely catching himself. Spike is quickly back up to his feet and shoots forward. He leaps into the air, grabs the top rope, and nails the Ghetto Superstar with a spinning heel kick to the chin…sending both men over the top rope! SIN fumbles to the arena floor, while Jenkins lands on the ring apron! The New Straight Edge Sensation rolls underneath the bottom rope, back into the ring. He climbs to his feet and slams his fist against his chest in a victorious pose, to the surprise cheer of the crowd.


“The opening moments of this match have been Spike Jenkins utilizing his speed to take down the giant S.I.N. If he keeps this up, he may collect a victory in his return to the SWF since his loss to Va’aiga a couple of months back.”


“…Or maybe he awoke the sleeping giant…” says The Suicide King as he looks over towards SIN rising to his feet, with a look of absolute anger in his face.


“Oh, that isn’t going to be good for anybody…” remarks the paraplegic announcer.


Jenkins is already off. He charges into the opposite ropes and speeds towards the direction of SIN. The Hollywood Superstar dives beneath the bottom rope, looking to connect with a baseball slide to the Bronx native…but SIN simply sidesteps out of the way. The momentum brings Jenkins all the way to the outside of the ring, on his feet, right in front of the giant Puerto Rican…exactly where he doesn’t want to be! SIN grabs Spike by the back of the neck and CHUCKS the Straight Edger straight into the guardrail!


“The Bronx Bomber just threw Spike Jenkins like a lawn dart into the guardrail,” cries out Mak Francis.


Jenkins lays face first on the floor, clutching the back of his head. SIN leans against the ring apron, holding the back of his head, but lets out a growl as he raises his arms in the air.


“S.I.N. for the WIN,” laughs The Suicide King.


“Oh, that was just corny.”


“Maybe, but Spike Jenkins brains have been scrambled after that monster tossed him into the guardrail. “


“Well, that stopped any momentum that the Straight Edger was building against The Bronx Bomber.”


SIN stomps over towards Jenkins, grabs him by the hair and drags him up to his feet and towards the ring. The giant Puerto Rican rolls his opponent back into the ring underneath the bottom rope. He climbs up onto the ring apron and steps over the top rope, stalking the injured cruiserweight.


“S.I.N. slowly stalking the Straight Edge Superstar…if you ask me, Spike is in some serious danger.”


Jenkins rolls into the center of the ring and slowly climbs to his knees. SIN steps closer…only to receive a right hand to the gut. Spike pulls back and hits a second desperation shot, barely fazing the giant. SIN grabs Spike by his hair and drives his knee straight into the face of Jenkins, laying the Hollywood Superstar out flat on his back.


“Oh ho ho! Spike Jenkins just got knocked out!” laughs the Suicide King. “He better get use to staring up at the ceiling, because that is exactly what is going to happen when S.I.N. continues to beat on him like this!”


SIN reaches down and grabs Spike by his hair and drags him up to his feet. He grabs Jenkins by the wrist and Irish whips him into the corner. SIN lines up and charges straight towards the Straight Edger…and smashing him with a clothesline right across the chest!


“Running clothesline by S.I.N.!”


SIN pulls his arm back and drives it again into the chest of Spike Jenkins…and another…and another…and another…and another…and another…and one more! SIN continues to pummel Spike with clotheslines until Jenkins legs give out and he collapses in the corner.


“Repeated clotheslines in the corner…a signature maneuver that S.I.N. calls Gluttony!”


“Earlier tonight, Spike Jenkins made fun of S.I.N. naming his signature and finishing moves after the seven deadly sins. Looks like he isn’t laughing now! BUT I AM! HA HA!”


SIN grabs Spike by his hair and drags him out of the corner and into the center of the ring. Standing tall above his opponent, SIN raises his arms up in the air to the dismay of the Canadian crowd. The Bronx native pulls Jenkins up to his feet and hoists him up onto his shoulder for a powerslam. With the Straight Edge superstar hanging over his shoulder, SIN holds one arm up and a cocky grin forms over his face. After a few seconds, the giant Puerto Rican tosses Spike up and spins him in mid-air, driving his smaller opponent face first into the mat with a face plant!


“The move that S.I.N. calls Sloth! The face plant DDT out of the powerslam position. A maneuver that defiantly knocks all of the wind out of the victim.”


Jenkins curls up into a ball, clutching his ribs. SIN turns him over onto his back and sloppily covers him!
















TH---NO! Spike kicks out!


“Spike just barely kicking out at two,” says Francis.


“What an onslaught brought on by S.I.N.!”


SIN climbs up to his feet and runs backwards into the ropes. He bounces off of them and stomps back towards the downed Jenkins. SIN leaps into the air and comes crashing down with a leg drop across his opponents’ windpipe!


“Big leg drop by S.I.N.!”


From his sitting position with his leg draped over the throat of Jenkins, SIN rolls backwards and back up to his feet! He charges backwards into the ropes, bounces off them once more, leaps into the air and comes crashing down with an elbow across the chest of his opponent!


“Followed by a big elbow drop!” cries out Francis.


“S.I.N. is going for the cover!”


SIN keeps his elbow pressed against Jenkins chest as he sloppily covers him.













THR---NO! Spike kicks out!


“S.I.N. is unable to keep the Hollywood Superstar down for a three count.”


“I don’t understand why Jenkins keeps kicking out. It’s only a matter of time before S.I.N. puts him out of his misery,” says The King of Hearts.


SIN climbs up to his feet, a hint of frustration in his eyes. He reaches down, grabs Spike by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. He grabs Jenkins by the wrist and sends him across the ring with an Irish whip. Jenkins bounces off the ropes and comes speeding back towards an awaiting SIN…who raises his boot into the air, aiming to take his opponents head off!




…But Spike dodges the attack with a baseball slide underneath the giant Puerto Rican!


“Spike ducks out of the way of that big boot attempt,” cries out Mak Francis.


SIN stumbles forward, but turns around just as Jenkins shoots up to his feet. Spike pushes forward and slaps the Bronx native across the chest with a knife-edged chop!




…And a second!





…And a third!




“Three knife-edged chops by The New Straight Edge Sensation!”


The blows to the chest stun SIN momentarily, allowing Jenkins to step forward and connect with a side kick straight to the thigh! The Straight Edger steps back, lines up and connects with a kick straight to the chest of the Puerto Rican!


“Spike has finally regained the momentum. He looks like he is trying to take advantage of the stunned giant!”


Spike speeds forward into the ropes. He bounces off of them and charges towards the giant, ready to strike…





…When SIN throws his giant boot in the air and connects with the side of Spike’s head! Jenkins immediately crumbles to the mat!


“I guess not!” laughs The Suicide King. “S.I.N. is just using his power to grind Spike down!”


SIN stumbles forward, still feeling the effects of Spike’s flurry of strikes. He shakes the cobwebs loose and turns his attention back to his opponent. He drops down and hooks the leg, looking for the cover!













THR---NO! Spike kicks out!


“The New Straight Edge Sensation just getting a shoulder up before the three count!”


SIN climbs up to one knee and pushes himself up to his feet. He steps over the fallen body of Spike Jenkins and looks down at the Straight Edger. SIN bends over and grabs Spike by the throat with both hands.


“What is this monster going to do now?” asks a curious Mak Francis.


“Whatever it is…it won’t be good!”


Without a moment of hesitation or struggle, SIN pulls Jenkins up off the mat and straight into the air, holding him up by the throat with both hands. The crowd awes at the sheer strength of the Bronx native, but break out into a chorus of jeers soon after. Without his opponent putting up much a fight, SIN drops backwards to the mat…TOSSING SPIKE JENKINS STRAIGHT ACROSS THE RING!


“Oh, My God!” cries out the paraplegic announcer.


“S.I.N. just tossed Spike across the ring like a rag doll!”


Jenkins crashed hard onto the ring mat. He reaches for his back, as he tries to drag himself towards the ropes. SIN climbs up to his feet, looks over at his victim, and pounds his chest in victory. He walks around the ring, yelling out at the fans and talking trash.


“What a massive blow by The Ghetto Superstar. That throw must have taken a lot out of Spike Jenkins!” reports Mak Francis.


“Spike said earlier tonight that he wasn’t going to underestimate Sammy’s power…I bet he wasn’t expecting that kind of power, though!”


SIN continues to stomp around the ring, proud of his sheer strength. He turns his attention back towards Jenkins, who is holding onto the bottom rope in the corner, trying to pull himself up to his feet. SIN walks over towards Jenkins, reaches down and grabs him by the ankle…but Spike kicks upward, pushing the Bronx native backwards.


“Spike might be seriously hurt. He is trying to buy himself some time.”


“S.I.N. is just toying with Jenkins, Mak. It’s all over!”


A cocky grin appears on the face of SIN. He once again grabs Spike by the ankle and again Spike kicks him back. That cocky grin disappears into an expression of anger, as he once again goes to grab The Straight Edger. Jenkins slides his body underneath the bottom rope onto the ring apron, however.


“The former Cruiserweight champion looks desperate at the moment, Mak.”


“He’s doing whatever he can to get away from that giant S.I.N.”


SIN walks over towards the ropes, leans over and grabs Jenkins by the hair. The New Straight Edge Sensation tries to pull away, but The Bronx Native’s grip is too tight. He drags Jenkins up onto his knees and then finally up to his feet…





…But leaves himself vulnerable for an attack in the process! Spike reaches up and grabs SIN by the back of the head. Without hesitation, Spike drops off the ring apron…driving SIN throat first across the top rope!


“Spike with the desperation move out-of-nowhere!”


SIN stumbles backwards, clutching his throat and gasping for air. Jenkins climbs back onto the ring apron and ascends to the top rope. With the giant Puerto Rican hunched over, The New Straight Edge Sensation leaps off the top rope…






“The Super Ego Trip!” cries out Mak Francis.


“I don’t believe it…”


“He hit the diving enzu knee to the back of the head! The move that he copied from Tom Flesher several years back when he first lost the Cruiserweight Title to The Superior One!”


SIN crashes to the mat, clearly knocked unconscious by the blow. Spike quickly shoots up to his feet and stumbles over towards SIN. Dropping down to the mat, the smaller Jenkins has a tough time turning SIN over…but finally does and covers him!




















“I don’t believe it…” exclaims a stunned Suicide King.


Referee Sexton Hardcastle rises to his feet and signals for the bell!


*Ding Ding Ding*


The crowd applauds the Straight Edger as he rolls underneath the bottom rope and out to the floor. Holding the back of his head with one hand, he holds his free arm up in victory.


“The winner of this match…’Hollywood’ SPIIIIIIIKE JEEEEENKINNNNNSSSSS!!!!”


SIN rolls over onto his back, still clutching the back of his neck. Jenkins begins to make his way to the backstage area, walking backwards up the ramp. He holds both arms up in the air in victory, as the Canadian crowd continues to cheer him.


“Spike Jenkins not only won over the crowd tonight, but also scored the victory over SIN!”


“They are only cheering him because they didn’t want to cheer SIN after his attack of Va’aiga a few weeks back.”


“That may be the case, but where does this put Spike Jenkins now? He said earlier tonight that he was going to defeat SIN and that he has his eyes set on becoming the next SWF World Champion!”


“Despite my feelings towards him, that was an impressive showing over the Bronx native. He has to be considered for title contention now!”


“Well, fans. Up next is the rematch between the Queen of Hardcore, Annie Eclectic against the rookie sensation, who already has a victory over Annie, Taiga Star!”




Edited by Toxxic

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The scene cuts back to the center of the SWF ring where Funyon stands ready to announce.


The only boy I understand The one ashamed to be a maaaaaaan...


“Be A Man” by Hole plays, signaling the entrance of a certain Hardcore Princess...


“Ladies and Gentlemen our next match is scheduled for one fall to a finish! Introducing first, from Helltown – Haverhill, Massachusetts... Taiga... STAR!”


The cameras turn to the top of the ramp, where spotlights train on the entrance. No motion is made, creating a murmur of confusion from the audience.


“We're ready for our next match,” begins King, “But perhaps Taiga isn't. Or maybe there was an open buffet on the way to the gorilla position.”


“So it begins,” says Mak with a hint of defeat, “We're ready for the next match, a falls count anywhere rematch between the self proclaimed Queen, Annie Eclectic and Taiga Star... who I believe is heading to the ring as we speak!”


Spotlights move from the ramp over to the center of Section C, where Taiga is now heading straight for the ring through the crowd! Fans slap her back as she walks past with a look of determination set in her eyes.


“Halifax seems to be behind the newcomer from the Northeastern US tonight,” says Mak, “who seemed only too happy to accept a request for a rematch from the stubborn... some might say whiny ... Onita Institute. Whoever the hell they really are.”


Taiga reaches the steel barricade, struggling slightly to get her shorter frame up and over but makes it to the other side. Star speeds up and slides under the bottom rope, popping to her feet and raising her fists confidently towards the fans.


“I don't see the draw,” says King, “Although I have to admit some curiousity towards this Onita Institute thing. Even though Shockmaster here fluked out a win, some of Eclectic's new attack style seems promising. I don't think Taiga is going to luck out a second time.”


The lights inside the Halifax Metro Centre dim, as Malcom X's voice rings clear throughout the building...


And during the few moments that we have left... We want to talk right down to earth in a language that everybody here can easily understand.


A fast guitar riff... another... and then


*pop*pop*pop*.... *BOOOOOOOOM!*


Pink and white pyro explode as the rest of "Cult of Personality" plays on. The SmarkTron snaps awake with images of Annie's more successful (and bloody) moments in the league. As the smoke clears from the pyrotechnic display, Allison Onita's figure walks out, clipboard in one hand and microphone in the other.


“If you will pardon me, Funyon,” says Allison over the music, “I shall do the announcement from here on.”


Inside the ring, Funyon shrugs and steps outside the ring, allowing Ms. Onita the floor.


“Thank you.”


Allison steps off towards the side of the entrance ramp, allowing the spotlights to center on the curtain again.


“Introducing her opponent, from Tokyo, Japan and representing the Onita Institute! She is the Most Decorated Woman In The SWF™ and soon to be YOUR World Champion... the QUEEN! ANNIE EEEEEEECLEEEEEECTIIIIIIIIC!”


The crowd turns sour as Annie Eclectic walks through the curtain, bokken in hand. She taps her the crown on her chest with her free hand then raises a crown to the fans. Not many return the favor.


“Some considered the last match a bit of an upset,” says Mak, “And that may go some way towards the polarity of the crowd this time out. Taiga Star earned some respect beating the Hardcore Queen in her element.”


Eclectic retracts her pinky and index fingers, leaving a mosaic censor mark around her hand.


“That's not going to get the fans in your corner either.”


“Fans in your... Mak, we're in Halifax!” exclaims King, “Who cares what people from Halifax think?”


“The marketing department.”


“... Halifax is a wonderful place. The SWF would like to take this moment to espouse the wonders of the Canadian Wilderness and its beauty.”


The Onita sisters walk down the ramp together, Allison trading the microphone to her sister for the bokken. Onita ignores the jeers by grabbing a pen to begin notetaking. Allison simply smirks at the negative reaction she endears from the crowd. As they reach the ringsteps Annie makes a 'cut' motion across her throat. The music dies down to nothing.


“Canadian Wilderness?” Mak asks to no one in particular.


“I am glad to be back in my favorite city...” begins Annie before looking back at her sister who shows her the clipboard, “... Halifax, Nova Scotia!”


The Queen ignores the boos as she walks up to the ring apron. She locks eyes with her opponent, not wanting to give her a chance to strike early.


“A city privileged to witness a clinic which I shall unleash upon the Baby Bitch here.”


Taiga stomps forward, moving face to... well breasts really with Eclectic.


“Fluke, Baby Bitch, that is all you are.” Annie continues, leaning over to look eye to eye with her opponent, “That's all you will be known as. You crossed the wrong...”




Eclectic reels back as if shot in the face, keeping herself on the apron by holding onto the top rope. She shakes off the blow and rears back to punch Taiga in the face... when Onita strikes Star from behind with the bokken!




Annie kicks Taiga through the ropes, forcing her down into the corner. Allison hooks Star's foot with the bokken and sweeps her back, leaving her seated in the corner. Referee Soapdish steps in and forces Onita back, drawing a round of boos from the fans.


“A blatantly cowardly double team from the Onita sisters!” exclaims Mak, “This is supposed to convice people that Eclectic is ready for the big time?”


The Queen stomps her downed opponent as Soapdish forces her sister back towards the side corner. Annie steps backwards to the other side corner and yells across the ring at her sister. Allison sidesteps the referee and makes a dash matching her twin as they both drive the heel of their foot into the face of Taiga Star!


“Double Yakuza Kick!” yells King, “Show me where this is against the rules, Mak. The Onitas obviously prepared a better gameplan through science and research.”


“More like simple math, two is more than one.”


Soapdish physically separates Allison from the action and pushes her away. He points at Onita then sharply towards backstage yelling “You're OUTTA HERE!”


“Soapdish is kicking Allison out!” says Mak over the cheering crowd, “Getting this match back under control is paramount.”


“It is not against the rules!” exclaims King, “Soapdish ought to be fined for being heavy handed during a falls count anywhere match.”


Allison begrudgingly walks through the ropes, reaching around the ref as she goes and tossing a small object towards her sister. Annie scoops it up and sneaks it into her gear as her sister yells at Soapdish for effect but follows his orders and walks up the ramp towards backstage.


“We've seen that in the past,” says Mak, “Hell, I've personally seen it, that's the container for the Asian mist!”


“I remember when you got hit with that... on the way to losing the ICTV title to Annie wasn't it?” asks King.


“Yes,” says Mak begrudgingly, “That would be correct.”


Annie gives the official more than an earful as she walks back towards her downed opponent. Taiga remains where she was before, if slightly less conscious. Grabbing her by the hair, Annie pulls Star up to her feet in the corner and lays a knee into her midsection for effect. Eclectic grabs her opponent by the wrist and whips her into the opposite corner with a loud thud. The Queen charges, going into a cartwheel – handspring – then springs back with an elbow into Taiga's throat! Star stumbles forward two steps then falls flat on her face on the canvas.


“The Queen, no relation I might add, takes early control off the brilliant strategic move...”


“You would say that,” interjects Mak.


“... and I wonder if Taiga's luck is beginning to wear thin.”


Annie kneels down and starts to roll Taiga over... struggling a bit but managing to roll her over and get a cover...




TWO!... and Eclectic picks Taiga up by the head, stopping the count!


“More arrogance from Eclectic,” notes Mak reacting along with the crowd.


Annie resumes the cover, and Soapdish begins the count anew...





TWO... and Annie picks her opponent up again, laughing as the crowd jeers her. She releases Taiga's head and in one swift motion swings the same hand around...






The crowd barely has time to react to the blatant show of disrespect before Taiga's fist instinctively drives upwards and clocks Eclectic on the chin! The Queen tumbles backwards from the surprise blow and comes back to her knees... only to eat a huge Yakuza Kick from Star! Eclectic tumbles to the outside as Taiga collapses into the corner trying to shake off the punishment she received.


“Taiga shows some fight and comes back, but how much did it take out of her?” asks Mak.


Star takes a deep breath before stepping through the ropes and gingerly dropping to the canvas. Eclectic has enough time to make it to her knees before Taiga is on her, dropping punches down onto her forehead...























Annie falls flat on her back from the barrage of punches as the crowd cheers Taiga on. Star steps forward and drops an elbow on her opponent, floating over for a cover as Soapdish rushes to make the count...









Star ignores the ref and pulls Eclectic to her feet, willing to dole out some more punishment on the woman from Japan. She leads Annie towards the ring and rolls her under the bottom rope, following in the same way. Taiga forces the Queen to her feet and whips a hard open hand chop into her chest! The fans WOOO~! In approval as Star repeates the strike, driving the ever cringing Eclectic back to the corner. The Princess of Hardcore turns her opponent towards the other corner with an Irish whip... until Annie puts on the brakes! Eclectic tries to whip Star to the corner... but Taiga stops her halfway! Taiga with the irish whip... Annie reverses midway... Taiga reverses the reversal... which Annie reverses... Taiga reverses... Annie reverses...


“I think some of the kids in the audience are getting dizzy,” says King, “Look, that kid in the helmet's looking a little green. Kid in the helment, heh.”


“King, don't say that on air!”



Taiga hits upon the idea of just letting her opponent go... right at the same time Eclectic does. Both women tumble backwards, leaning against the ropes on opposite sides of the ring. Annie springs to her feet first and charges her opponent, catching her unawares with a clothesline that sends both women tumbling back to the outside!


“Cactus clothesline from the Queen,” notes Mak, “I'm surprised she was even able to walk straight after all those spins!”



Annie rolls through and pops up to her feet, taking a second to mug to the crowd. She turns back around to find... no one. She looks left and right, trying to see where her opponent went. She bolts to her right, running around the ring until she reaches the other side, still unable to find her prey.


“A little cockiness goes a long way for Taiga,” says Mak, “I think she snuck under the ring when Annie wasn't looking!”


“Not surprising, when you spend your life surrounded by rats and cockroaches, I'm sure the lowest, darkest place is the first place Taiga would run to,” returns King.


The Queen walks carefully along the ring, waiting to hit dead center on the nearest side before raising the apron and peering under the ring... only to get a mouthful of steel chair for her efforts! The crowd applauds the guerrilla strike from Taiga as she climbs out from under the ring. Eclectic, flat on her back, gets pulled up to a seated position before she tilts her head back and unleashes a cloud of pink mist!


“Annie finally lets loose with that despicable mist attack... and a pink variant no less,” says Mak, “I don't think that follows tradition, King.”


“Traditions are meant to be altered,” says King, “There is nothing wrong with pink.”




Star stumbles back as she wipes at her stinging eyes, giving Eclectic time to get up onto her feet. Annie braces herself against the steel railing and catches her breath. She wipes the sweat from her eyes... not seeing Taiga blindly charge her and clothesline them both over the railing! The crowd flips out as both fighters mingle awkwardly with the front row patrons.


“You see how this works?” asks King, “Eclectic prepares for an ambush by having the mist ready for retaliation. Taiga gets lucky by charging ahead and hoping to hit her opponent. Star can only be lucky for so long before talent and experience take over.”


Soapdish awkwardly chases the two women who find themselves blindly brawling up section A. Trading lefts and rights, Eclectic and Taiga make it up to an empty isle. Star finds room to irish whip Annie across the isle who finds herself helplessly careening into the mens bathroom! Cameras rush behind Taiga as they all follow the tumbling Queen into the restroom.


“When in doubt, just wing your opponent!” chides King, “Taiga's wrestling 'style' is nothing more than making garbage up on the spot.”


“If it wins you the match,” says Mak, “How can you disregard it? Besides, we've seen Taiga Star be technical herself, it's Annie that keeps bringing this back to an unconventional brawl.”


Star gets backed into the cameraman, victim to an unseen kick from the fallen Eclectic. Annie kips up and pulls Taiga off the cameraman to lock in a front face lock. She screams out and drops Taiga headfirst onto the tile with a DDT! The lone previous occupant of the bathroom slides across the room to the corner as Annie floats over for a cover...











“Surprise comeback from the Queen!” exclaims Mak.


“There's the technique and experience kicking in,” says King coolly, “You notice that once Eclectic knew where she was, she quickly took the situation in hand and regained control.”



Annie releases her frustration with the referee's count with a verbal lashing in his direction. Eclectic rises to her feet, draging Star with her towards one of the stalls in the bathroom. She kicks open the door, looks in and smiles.


“I seem to remember someone getting a brainbuster into one of these!” Annie shrieks as she locks another front facelock onto Star. She grunts deeply as she lifts the heavier woman up just enough... for a low Annie-T into the drink! She cringes from landing the attack but gets up, knowing her opponent took more damage. With a sardonic laugh, she kicks at the toilet's handle, sending a pneumatic rush of water around Taiga's head.


“Do not try this at home,” says King, “Flush first before giving someone a swirly, it's only good hygene!”


“That's disgusting, King.”



The Queen walks out of the stall across the room towards the sinks. Leaning against the counter, she begins toying with her hair, putting the longer bits back into place with a narcissistic smile. Satisfied with her look she turns around... to be caught by a charging knee into her midsection! Annie crumples forward from Taiga's counterattack and gets lifted onto the counter by her soaked opponent. Star moves some of the wet strands out of her face as she steps back... and eyes the man in the room.


“Get on the floor!” she yells at him.


“What???” he asks.


“Get on the floor, there, on your hands and knees! Just do it!”


Scared, the man follows her directions, propping himself on the floor in front of Eclectic.


“I'm surprised that man followed Taiga's orders,” says Mak.


“If you saw that thing charging towards you soaking in toilet water, what would you do???” asks King.


Taiga charges in, taking a leaping step off the man and driving her boot forward with a charging Yakuza Kick driving the Queen into the mirror! The glass shatters as Annie crumples down and rolls off the counter, bleeding across multiple lacerations in her back. Star helps the man up and shoos him out of the room before covering the fallen Queen...













“Star better realize she'll have to pay for that mirror!” says King, “The SWF will not be held responsible for the actions of an angry retarded bull.”




“What?” asks King.


“I'll make sure to tell Taiga you said that,” says Mak.


“I'm sure I can outlast her in a chase. I mean, her running full speed is still slower than me walking, am I right?”



Star slams her fists into the ground in frustration. She looks around the bathroom, her face a wet mix of artificial and real pink. She spies a wooden door in one of the walls, as the camera looks with her.


“What's Taiga thinking here, she already owes damages for the mirror!” exclaims King.



Dragging her opponent up by the hair, Taiga steps over to the wooden door and opens it. She peers inside then ducks back in, smiling. Propping Eclectic up with a vicious chop to the chest, Taiga irish whips her through the doorway with a resulting crash! Star steps through as the camera follows... into the concession stand!


“Why do the public bathrooms and the concession stand share a door?” asks Mak.


“I think it's just best not to try the footlongs here,” notes King.


Annie awkwardly rises to her feet, stumbling and holding her head. Concession workers step back as the Taiga charges forward with a headbutt to the Queen's forehead. Annie staggers back as Taiga unloads with a second headbutt... a third... a fourth sending Eclectic staggering backwards and resting against the register counter. Taiga reaches out and grabs the first thing she reaches... a squirt bottle of ketchup. She chuckles as she fills her mouth with the thick red condiment... and sprays it in Annie's face!


“Ketchup Mist!” says Mak, trying not to laugh, “A flavorful retaliation on the Hardcore Queen!”


“Flavorful retaliation?” asks King.


“Well listen to you and your 'Canadian Wilderness',” retorts Mak.


Taiga soaks in the crowd's laughs for a second, enjoying being on the dominant side of the match for a change. She takes a couple steps back before rushing forward and clotheslining Annie up and over the counter onto the isle outside! Eclectic flops onto her back as Star climbs up onto the counter and drops a leg to step down... then rethinks and brings it back up, instead rising to her feet ON the counter!


“Taiga's going high risk here,” says Mak, “Not something she's had luck with in the past, but Annie may be showing signs of a head injury, she doesn't look to solid on her feet.”


“Well it's no surprise to have balance issues when you're that lopsided,” says King, “I'm amazed Taiga doesn't tip over when walking.”




Taiga kisses her fist and raises it in the air, garnering a cheer from the crowd. She leaps off, driving her fist down... onto the concrete floor as Annie rolls out of the way! Star rolls to her side holding her fist, kicking the air fast and hard and screaming in pain. The Queen struggles to get to her feet, holding her pounding head with her hand and leaning awkwardly against the concession stand counter.


“Star may have just broken her hand,” notes Mak, “But Eclectic appears to be hurt as well! These two women just won't stop until someone's career is over!”


“If that means having a Mendoza Line for women in regards to looks, so be it,” says King, “I doubt the marketing department would see a problem with that.”



Weaving side to side, Annie slowly walks towards her opponent and stomps at one of the three hands she sees on the ground. Hearing a yelp of pain, Annie assumes she hit the correct one and proceeds to mercilessly stomp on the right hand of Taiga Star.


“I don't know if it's instinct or intelligence, but Annie smells blood and whatever her own condition, she is looking to take advantage,” says Mak.


Annie shakes her head back and forth, trying to clear the cobwebs her opponent put in there so far. She pulls Star up to her feet. Taiga reacts quickly with a left hand but Annie blocks. Taiga throws a second left jab but no luck... until a knee to the gut breaks the Queen's guard! Star's third left jab finds the mark and as her fist hit Eclectic's chin, the Queen dropped to a heap on the floor! Taiga drops for a cover...









THR... kickout!



“Eclectic is hurt!” shouts Mak, “Nick Soapdish may have to look into ending this one early!”


“Are you insinuating that the Queen couldn't take a beating from this foul and noisesome whelp?” asks King.


Mak looks at King confused.


“Whatever that meant, remember that Taiga did beat Eclectic just two weeks ago, Star is not to be underestimated.”


Taiga doesn't even fight the count, simply reacting on instinct by picking her opponent up off the ground. She walks Annie over towards the steps back down towards the ring... and prepares the simply heave her opponent off! The crowd gasps as Taiga reaches back for the irish whip... which gets blocked by Eclectic who falls into a drop toe hold! Star stumbles forward and begins to fall slowly and awkwardly down the stars to the guard rail. Nick Soapdish climbs over Eclectic to rush down and check upon Taiga.





“Taiga Star just to an incredible fall!” says Mak, “Tumbling down a long flight of stairs to the bottom, that could spell the end of this match!”


Unable to come up with another decision, the official begins a ten count on the still Taiga Star...






Annie stirs to life at the top of the steps, still shaken but rising to her feet...





Taiga appears on the concrete motionless as the crowd cheers for her to rise...


“It looks like Taiga's luck finally ran out,” says King, “And if we're lucky, she might not come back at all!”












Eclectic begins to walk down the stairs very slowly, taking care not so tumble down the stairs herself...




Taiga begins to show signs of life as her left arm moves up and presses against the ground...


“Taiga's not out of this yet, King!” Mak shoots back.




Annie continues towards her opponent, making it halfway down the arena steps...




Star ever so slowly pushes herself up to her knees...




Eclectic, feeling more sure of herself, picks up her pace towards her rising opponent...




Taiga makes it to one knee just as Annie reaches her... and finds herself airbound as Taiga presses upwards and lifts the Queen over the guardrail! The crowd explodes as Star slides over the railing. She reaches the Queen and drives a boot to the head for good measure before picking her up and whipping her down the floor. Annie flies down the ringside area only to crash into the steel ring steps and FLIP~!s over them!


“The Princess of Hardcore still showing life, catching the Queen in midstride for a backdrop onto the concrete, and you have to wonder how much is left in the tank for these two,” notes Mak.


Taiga takes a second to gather her wits before walking down ringside to find her fallen opponent leaning against the toppled ring steps. Mustering all the energy she has left, Taiga jogs over to the opposite corner before turning... and bull rushing her opponent with a running knee strike against the steel! Annie crumples to the floor with a heaving but confident Taiga standing tall(ish) above her.


“I don't like where this is heading,” says King, “Taiga Star is smelling victory right now and if Annie didn't have a concussion before, she sure has one now!”



She looks towards the crowd, all calling for her to finish the arrogant Queen, and agrees with the consensus. She drags the limp Eclectic towards the bottom of the ramp, placing her diagonally in the path of the corner of the ring.


“This could be a mistake, Taiga could have had the cover right there in my mind!” says Mak.


Taiga rolls back into the ring, Soapdish warning her about doing what she's telegraphing. With cold reserve, Star climbs the turnbuckles slowly but steadily, keeping her balance on the ropes as she rises.


“She's going up again, if she hits with this... how can she lose?” asks Mak, “How could she possible lose?”


“Eclectic's taken a lot, I don't know if she can take having that heft land on her right now!” exclaims King.


“Wait... wait who's that in the ring???” asks Mak.


Taiga reaches the top, staring down at the still Hardcore Queen. Taiga takes a deep breath and bends her knees to fly... only to get a bokken shot to the back of the head! Star topples off the top rope from Onita's surprise attack and lands face first on the steel barricade!


“Where did Onita come from?” asks Mak, “And why was she allowed back ringside? Allison Onita once again keeping Taiga Star away from having any shot of wining tonight!”


Onita disregards Soapdish entirely, rushing to her sister on the outside. She checks her vitals quickly and in exasperation rolls her sister over the fallen form of Taiga Star. Nick Soapdish reaches the scene and pulls Onita away from the two fighters. The two trade words, with Onita frantically pointing at her sister, who technically is in a pinning sitation. The offical looks back and forth between Onita and the pin and frustrated... drops to the ground for the count...


“Oh this can't really count, can it!” asks Mak rhetorically.





“I said it before, show me where they can't do this!” says King.






The crowd, fearing the worst, already begin to boo.







And during the few moments that we have left... We want to talk right down to earth in a language that everybody here can easily understand.



The opening guitar melody of “Cult of Personality” rings out, matched in volume by the boos of the crowd over the match's ending. Medical personnel rush out to check out both fighters but Allison promptly pushes them off, calling backstage for her own help. Two men in labcoats rush out, reaching the Queen at ridiculous speed and carry her off carefully, with Onita barking orders behind them.




“I don't know how you can have a falls count anywhere match end controversially, but the Onita sisters managed to do it tonight,” says Mak.


“I still don't agree with Allison being forced to leave in the first place,” says King, “She made the right call to return and help her charge fight against the ridiculous sitations Taiga kept putting them both in.”


“That TAIGA put them in? Were we watching the same match, King?”


“Before you have another wheelie hissy, we're going to cut for the next match but keep watching for more SWF action! Hell Freezes Over 2008!”


The camera focuses on the still knocked out Taiga Star before fading to black...

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“We've got a clash of the titans coming next, King,” introduces Mak Francis, “As Va'aiga looks to grab a slice of revenge cake against the Big Bully, Tracy Bruner.”


“Bruner and SIN tried to put Va'aiga on the shelf last time out. This time I think he's looking to finish the job, Francis,” replies King.


The repeated high-low-high-low-high-low-low line that forms the backing to Busta Rhymes' “Call The Ambulance” sounds out as the massive frame of Tracy Bruner makes his slow walk down the entrance ramp, Sir Marvelous flanking the massive monster of the mat. Funyon holds his mic up and hollers out, “Introducing first, accompanied by Sir Marvelous, hailing from the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, NYC, he is the largest athlete in the SWF, TRAAAAAAAAACY BRUUUUUUUUUNER!” Stepping over the top rope, Bruner looks out into the baying crowd as the chorus hits..







“Never has there been a more appropriate piece of music, Francis,” starts King, “Tracy Bruner puts bodies on stretchers and he does it with some efficiency!” Mak Francis replies, “I have to agree with you King, but Va'aiga is a different challenge than most SWF stars. I don't think there's many professional wrestlers out there with the toughness, both physical and mental ,to withstand Bruner's power game.” Meanwhile the arena lights dim and the audience focuses on the entrance area again.



It ain't good... It ain't good cos y'all get jumped in my hood!


It ain't good... It ain't good cos y'all get jumped in my hood!


And as the distinctive rapping of Savage starts up The Maori Badass himself Va'aiga walks out and throws his famed BOO-YAH! Combination, ending with a throw of the Shaka sign and a holler to the crowd. Funyon shouts out, “And his opponent, from Rotorua, Aotearoa, weighing in at 350lbs, THE MAORI BADASS, VAAAAAAAA'AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGAAAAAAAA!” Va'aiga breaks and sprints down to ringside and slides under the bottom rope, launching himself at Bruner as referee Nick Soapdish calls for the bell...




Barely given time to discard his fedora Bruner is assaulted right from the get go by a flurry of punches from the Maori. Bruner's head rocks back as each blow from Va'aiga is fired in with venom and hatred and Bruner even backs off half a step before Va'aiga takes a brief pause. Return fire is not long in coming as Bruner responds with some punches of his own. Va'aiga absorbs the blows and grits his teeth and the pair for a moment just stand there, neither showing any effects from the opening exchange. “How do you see this match panning out?” asks Mak. “Bruner has a power advantage AND a speed advantage over the Maori,” replies King, “Va'aiga's big strength is his ability to soak up punishment, but I'm not sure he can soak everything Bruner can throw his way. Va'aiga is going to have to play immovable object, Bruner being the prototypical unstoppable force.”


Eyeballing his opponent, The Maori Badass charges in and grabs for Bruner's arm. Va'aiga uncorks Bruner tyring to Irish Whip his opponent but Bruner outmuscles the Maori and it's the New Zealander who finds himself flung across the ring. Bruner sets himself to block Va'aiga but as the Maori rebounds he goes low, firing a shoulder into Bruner's chest and wrapping his arms around the big man's legs. Bruner goes down and Va'aiga takes a top mount firing four or five rapid punches into Bruner's face. Capping off the sequence Va'aiga rears back and headbutts Bruner once, twice, three times before standing and throwing the Shaka sign to the crowd again, greeted of course by a massive “BOO-YAH!”


“That answers one question,” remarks Mak as Bruner slowly gets to his feet again, “Va'aiga has the strength to take down the Big Bully!”


“I'm not sure,” replies King, “That was more a technique takedown than a strength one. How much of Va'aiga's power arsenal will be lost due to the sheer size of Bruner?”


Partially answering the question Va'aiga grabs for Bruner and with a massive effort the Maori lifts the big man up and slam him down to the mat with AUTHORITY! The crowd goes NUTS as the big man is bodyslammed and Va'aiga tenses and untenses his shoulders a couple of times. The Maori drags Bruner back to his feet and slides round behind, locking in a back waistlock. The Maori Badass strains and lifts Bruner's feet off the ground but due to the akward shape as much as the weight the Maori can't quite pull off the German Suplex he was planning on. Va'aiga drops Bruner and as the big man stumbles forwards, the Maori throws a pair of forearms to the back of Bruner's head. Bruner turns and frowns at Va'aiga and the Maori turns back to gameplan number one and headbutts Bruner square in the face! “Va'aiga using his head again!” quips King


With Bruner reeling from the headbutt Va'aiga turns to the crowd and screams. Sir Marvelous, with an evil grin crossing his face, walks over the the ringside area and orders the timekeeper to move. Picking up the chair the official was sitting on Marvellous slides the chair in towards Bruner. As Va'aiga turns towards his seven foot foe, Bruner, having grabbed the chair, PASTES him with an enormous shot to the head! And Va'aiga... TAKES IT LIKE A MAN AND SCREAMS! Bruner reesponds by shrugging his shoulders and SMASHING THE CHAIR OVER THE MAORI'S HEAD AGAIN...


“That shot was sickening, King,” comments Mak Francis




“Well I think we can call this a DQ, Francis,” responds The Suicide King


...AND AGAIN, Va'aiga falling to his knees on the fourth blow...


There is a chorus of boos from the crowd!




“This is a horrific attack, King!”


..AND AGAIN! This time Va'aiga finally slumps down to canvas level. Sir Marvelous slides into the ring and picks up the chair, mouthing an order to his gargantuan bodyguard. The Marv' picks up the now badly dented chair and, after showing it to the crowd, places the chair down onto the mat. Bruner meanwhile has picked up Va'aiga and applied a standing head scissors. Sir Marvelous holds his fist out and then gives Va'aiga the thumbs down... POWERBOMB ONTO THE STEEL CHAIR!


“Did you see the sickening way Va'aiga's head bounced off the chair there, Francis?”


“Va'aiga is out! Va'aiga is out!”


Sir Marvelous raises Tracy Bruner's arm as litter begins to be thrown from the fans nearest to the ring. As the pair stand over the fallen body of the Maori, the distinctive voice of Busta Rhymes sounds out again...






Edited by Toxxic

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“Welcome back and it is finally time for our main event in what’s one of the most interesting title defenses in a long time,” Mak says.


“Interesting because Luchador shouldn’t be getting a shot at the World Title?” King asks.


“Our World Champion, Michael Alexander, will have to defend his title in a hardcore two-out-of-three falls match against Insane Luchador in a stipulation that was chosen by the challenger himself,” Mak explains. “These two have exchanged words over the last week and both of them seem confident coming into this one.”


“Alexander has every reason to be confident and IL has every reason to fake confidence,” King says. “IL is being naïve in assuming that since a hardcore match is his specialty then Alexander must be inept at it.”


“That’s true, King, just because we haven’t seen Alexander in a hardcore environment doesn’t mean he can’t adapt,” Mak says. “Alexander is a smart wrestler.”


“So he can swing a weapon, get hit, bleed, and then laugh, so what? Anybody can swing a weapon or use a weapon to cause some serious damage, and that includes Michael Alexander. If you stripped each man down to their raw talent you’d find that Alexander is superior in every sense of the word. Now doesn’t that suggest that IL has given Alexander a wider spectrum of ways to beat him?” King asks.


“It really comes down to this, is it finally IL’s time? The confidence, momentum, and stipulation are all there for him.”


“It’s a cute start to a ‘David and Goliath’ situation but this won’t end with the underdog winning,” King says. “Luchador’s fairy tale dream is coming to an ending right here, right now.”


“Not to mention that momentum can be a mysterious force, King, sometimes it can mean everything in the world,” Mak says.


“Yeah, but does that mysterious force have the power to give IL any sort of advantage?”


“We’re about to find out,” Mak excitedly says. “This is something that Insane Luchador has endured countless matches for this shot but Alexander is obviously determined to retain his title and start his own legacy.”


Two quick drum beats followed by a grinding guitar suddenly plays over the system, causing a massive explosion of cheers from the crowd, marking the arrival of the challenger, Insane Luchador. Blasting streams of red and black pyro go off on the sides of the stage while Alice in Chain’s “Man in the Box” creepy chant begins-





Suddenly Insane Luchador walks out, quietly surveying the crowd, and throws his arms into the air to create a whole new round of cheers. A psychotic smile seems plastered on his face while he begins to walk down the aisle, staring up at the ring, and extending his hands for the encouraging fans.


“Introducing the challenger… from Easton, Pennsylvania… weighing in at 225 pounds… Your Psychotic Hero- IIIIIIIINNNNSSSSAAAAAANNNNNEEEEE LLLLUUCCCHHHAAADDDOOORRR!”


The crowd erupts once again and Insane Luchador hits ringside, looking around before sliding into the ring, rolling up onto his feet, and throwing his arms once more in the air for the crowd. He walks over to the ring ropes facing the entrance ramp, stepping onto the first one, and leaning forward while waving in a beg for the World Champion to enter.


“This crowd absolutely adores the challenger right now,” Mak shouts over the crowd.


“Yeah, that makes it all the better when he loses,” King condescendingly says.


“Dread Rock” by Paul Oakenford kicks up, the lights flickering in sync with the song, and suddenly the SmarkTron lights up, showing footage of Michael Alexander’s previous matches and inflicted injuries highlighted over Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man.” The crowd’s jeers easily drown out the music while Funyon begins his announcement-




The World Champion, Michael Alexander, emerges from backstage with a cocky smirk, the flickering lights die, and the prestigious SWF World Heavyweight Championship is securely strapped around his waist. He points at Insane Luchador and looks down, cockily pointing down at his title, and just shakes his head at him. He continues his walk down the aisle and laughs at the Ill One who steps down from the ring ropes, heading to center of the ring, and beginning to pace back and forth like a caged animal.


“Our World Champion looking as confident as ever,” Mak remarks.


“See, Michael Alexander isn’t intimidated by IL.”


Michael Alexander slows his actions just to rile up IL, rolling into the ring, and lingers in standing up, walking over to the corner. Kivell comes over, removing his belt, while Alexander seems absolutely apathetic to the crowd and just fixes his boot straps to Luchador’s building impatience.


“This match took IL seven years to get, the peak of the SWF,” Mak says.


“Man, imagine how long it’ll take him to get a rematch then,” King muses.


IL tries to goad Alexander to center of the ring but without any luck and Luchador steps forward, his body language looking ready for a charge, but Kivell steps in for a moment to Luchador’s protest. He simply explains to the Ill One that it this isn’t a rule less environment yet and has to beckon, multiple times, for Alexander to come forward. The World Champion finally turns around, acting nonchalantly surprised by Luchador’s appearance. The Ill One’s eyes stare directly into Alexander’s, who doesn’t stare back but instead rolls his neck, listening to Kivell’s last minute review, who simply defines the rules as none.


“Does Insane Luchador have what it takes? He has always been willing to go the distance but does he have what it takes?”


“Both men have promised a decisive victory,” King says.


The tension rises as Insane Luchador steps closer to Alexander, who smugly smiles at him, while IL’s eyes remained fixed on him. Alexander informs Luchador that he doesn’t have a prayer when Luchador suddenly lunges out, tackling Michael Alexander down, and furiously raining down right hands to a jump of shock from Kivell who then signals for the ring bell that gets drowned out by the cheering crowd -




“Here we go and it is time to see what these men have in store for each other,” Mak says.


Alexander, consistently proven to be no fool on the canvas, overcomes the original shock of being ambushed and so he’s able to roll over, putting IL on his back. He shakes his head at Luchador and peppers in two bitch slaps before rolling down onto Luchador’s legs, keeping them held down, and wraps his legs around Luchador’s, trapping his foot underneath his armpit, and he quickly locks in the heel hook. He twists the foot laterally and he does his damnedest to tear Luchador’s ligaments early in the match, but the Ill One smartly spins in the direction his leg’s being twisted. Now the two are on their sides, Luchador’s free leg on top of Alexander, who tenaciously holds onto the lock, and Luchador jams his free foot underneath Alexander’s armpits, waiting for a second before slipping out his foot to jab Alexander’s bent arm, jostling the hold. Insane Luchador slips free, rolling onto his feet with a small smile, and Alexander slowly gets back onto one knee.


“An amazing early counter by IL to that dangerous heel hook,” Mak says.


“That’s one of the ways that Alexander has a clear advantage in this match, he can lock in deadly submissions in a heartbeat,” King replies.


He stands back up and the IL lunges out as does the World Champion, locking them into a grapple. Luchador tries to slip his arm free towards Alexander’s neck for a front facelock but the gifted World Champion knows what’s coming, so he drops down onto a knee, grabbing Luchador behind his thigh and his arm, tugging him onto his shoulders before quickly flipping him over with the fireman’s carry to take him down once again!


“This could be the entire match if Alexander wanted it to be,” King says. “He could spend all night just toying with Luchador, taking him down at will, and then just disposing of him whenever he’s bored, which probably won’t be an issue after the harsh words these men have exchanged.”


Alexander quickly stands up to fall down with an elbow drop onto Luchador’s chest. They both race to their feet and Insane Luchador lunges at the World Champion until Alexander drops down once again, catching Luchador with another fireman’s carry with a cocky laugh. This time he doesn’t even follow up with anything, he just slowly stands up, and lets IL roll away onto one knee to recollect. He stands up and stares at Alexander, who just laughs at the wrestling clinic he’s put Luchador through, and the challenger cautiously approaches Alexander. The World Champion lunges out and they collide into a grapple with Alexander most likely thinking of the catalogue of potential moves when Luchador wraps both hands around the back of his head, pulling his neck down and locking in the Muay Thai clutch to his opponent’s alarm. Alexander slips in an elbow shot but the resilient Ill One finds himself in a favorable position for the first time and blasts him with a knee to his ribs! He continues his assault with an unanswered knee to Alexander’s ribs and hits another cracking rib shot. He throws up his knee but this time Alexander proves to be ready by catching the leg from the back of his knee and with Luchador off balance he’s able to slip his head free. Alexander quickly counters by sweeping Luchador, as if he pulled out the rug from underneath and the Ill One flops onto the canvas with Alexander still holding his leg. He tries to use his free leg to throw an up kick but Alexander easily avoids it, lifting Luchador’s leg high, and beginning to repeatedly stomp on his thighs before holding the leg out, guiding it down to the canvas with a leg drop onto it, causing Luchador to roll away in pain while temporarily holding his leg. But the Ill One wouldn’t be in the spotlight if a little leg work did him in and so he rolls back onto his feet, staying away from Alexander, and this time beckoning the World Champion towards him.


“Every time Luchador seems to have an upper hand Alexander just takes it away from him,” Mak says. “He hasn’t even given IL an opportunity to even contemplate using the hardcore stipulation to his advantage.”


“Insane Luchador may want to prove himself worthy of the World Title and that’s cute and all but that doesn’t mean he should try to go with our Champ hold-for-hold.”


The World Champion regretfully declines Luchador’s offer and that incites the challenger to break into a sprint at his opponent, only to get taken down by a drop toehold to the disapproval of the fans. Alexander tries to roll into position towards the legs, in a familiar routine that usually signals his reverse Indian Deathlock, the Gordian Knot, and in a routine that Luchador’s all too ready for. The wily veteran sends a small kick at the challenger and simply opts to crawl away, rolling forward onto his feet, and turning around expecting to see Alexander a good few feet away- only to get caught with a running knee lift that floors him!


“Alexander has so many set-ups for his finisher, the Gordian Knot,” Mak says. “I mean he does amaze me at how many moves he can do that’ll lead into that submission, in that sense he could easily catch IL.”


“Which would probably be demoralizing for Rickmen and that’d have to make an impact,” King replies.


“I think that’s why the two-out-of-three falls was smart of Luchador, because he may get caught but then there’s the chance at redemption.”


The Champion bends over, commenting on how easy this has been, and begins to lift Luchador back up but eats two hard shots to the gut. Luchador, almost standing up straight, grabs the back of the Champion’s head, pulling it close to his tested-tough head (if not somehow supernatural) head, dropping down with a jawbreaker that gets the crowd cheering. The World Champion stumbles backwards and IL gets up, running at Alexander, and slides underneath him, leaving Alexander foolishly stumbling after trying to intercept him. The Mad Scientist of the Mat spins around and tries to catch IL off guard with a kick to his legs but it is checked by Luchador’s shin, and the challenger comes back with a hard kick to his opponent’s ribs before attempting another that gets caught by the quick World Champion. Alexander pulls Luchador in by the leg, now moving his hand around the thigh and wraps an arm around the back of his neck before throwing him overhead with a capture suplex that incites heavy boos from the audience that the World Champion only soaks up, as well as King.


“You know, I bet if you went into Luchador’s demented head there would be logic to this strategy but I’ll be damned if I see it,” King says.


“Alexander has simply been getting the better of his challenger but IL will never say die, literally,” Mak replies and sees his claim illustrated as IL rolls for the ring ropes, already beginning to pull himself up.


Alexander takes his sweet time in pursuit while Luchador struggles to push himself up while the Champion practically saunters over, grabbing Luchador by his spiked hair, and dragging him away from the ring ropes by his hair. He lets go in center of the ring and IL scrambles onto all fours, desperately blasting out, and actually getting the double leg takedown on Alexander. But the World Champion proves why he’s dubbed the Mad Scientist of the Mat since the second his back hits the canvas he’s able to secure a guillotine choke on the canvas, putting IL into an ugly situation. Except Alexander only retains the hold to regain control of the situation, however, and releases the hold, rolling away, and leaving IL staggering to his feet while gasping for air. Alexander rushes for his wheezing opponent but Insane Luchador catches Alexander with a hard right but the World Champion only spins around, throwing his elbow up, and hitting the backspinning elbow to stun Luchador. He moves closer in but pays as IL counterpunches with a jab that stops Michael dead in his tracks, throwing up a kick to the ribs but instead it gets caught by Michael. IL hobbles on his one foot, wildly swinging to Alexander’s amusement, but suddenly leaps up, throwing his free leg over, and connecting with a hard enzuigiri! They each hit the canvas and race back up, IL gets slightly ahead, and it lets him ambush the Champion with lefts and rights to the crowd’s loud cheers. Michael is sent stumbling back towards the turnbuckle when Luchador suddenly grabs the back of Alexander’s head, pulling it towards him, and headbutting him, letting him go just to watch him reel back into the turnbuckle. Luchador walks over and takes a step back, smirking, and unleashes a hard palm strike right onto the chin of Alexander, causing him to begin to crumble forward, almost looking knocked out!


“That one rocked him, that one definitely rocked him,” Mak excitedly says.


Alexander desperately lunges out during his fall in a predictable double leg takedown that makes IL throw his legs back, sprawling to save himself, and locking in a guillotine choke, dropping down with the DDT but maintaining the hold, now scissoring his body with his legs. Alexander’s face, with Luchador hooking it in deep, begins to turn purple when Kivell drops down onto a knee, asking him if he wants to tap to a wheezed grunt, and explains that passing out is an automatic fall. He wheezes while trying to yank Luchador’s arms off to no avail, the cut off oxygen leading him to slowly feel the prelude to passing out but then chooses a smarter tactic by throwing his free arm over Luchador’s opposite shoulder, giving him the opening to jump onto Luchador’s thighs with his shins, now leading him to lift all his weight, not just the weight of his neck and head.


“Brilliant move by Alexander, now Luchador’s trying to lift his entire body to get that leverage needed for the choke,” Mak concedes. “If Luchador gets tired trying to submit somebody experienced in BJJ then he’ll regret it.”


Alexander drives his shoulder into Luchador’s face, freeing the pressure a little bit, and gets a small bit of precious air, fueling him to stand up in a tripod. He pushes his head hard against Luchador’s armpit to create room to push against Luchador’s wrist, loosening the pressure, and he turns his head to the side and down, leaving IL’s vulnerable lock ineffectively now against his tucked chin. He continues to hold onto Luchador’s wrist with his left hand but digs his right arm against Luchador’s throat, now choking him to jeers from the crowd, while still pulling Luchador down. IL strains to keep the hold locked in but Alexander’s superior technique prevails as he pops free, grabbing one of Luchador’s legs, and making him pay, putting his knee over Luchador’s, dropping to the canvas, and now pulling at it with intentions of severing his limb. He retains the hold of Luchador’s leg, now standing back up, and sending another kick to the thigh before Rickmen escapes, slipping free. Insane Luchador hobbles up and the rushing Alexander causes IL to throw a front toe kick in a panic with his good leg, only to have it caught by the ankle by the World Champion. Alexander swiftly shoots in and still clutching the leg scores a single leg takedown, already neutralizing Luchador’s attempt at an assault. But the World Champion wouldn’t be a World Champion if he simply neutralized, so he therefore continues to hold onto the leg, turning him over in a half crab, the crowd recognizing what’s ready to come, and he rolls, catching Luchador with a headscissors during the roll, and comes out of it with his Ouroboros II, the hybrid half crab and headscissors lock! Kivell drops to Luchador’s level and asks if he wants to tap to get the predictable answer of no.


“Alexander has that one locked in tight and it doesn’t look like IL can even dream of a way to escape,” Mak says.


“It’s like shooting fish in a barrel,” King insists. “I mean, look at that move, these are holds that Luchador hasn’t even encountered yet and that’s saying something after all these years.”


Alexander tries to really crank in the hold, working over a trifecta of Luchador’s leg, back, and neck, and he advises that Luchador taps because he sure as hell isn’t letting go. But if there’s one thing that IL sure as hell doesn’t do it is tapping, except he finds himself being drained of energy, in a hold he can’t break, in a match with multiple falls.


“Every instinct IL has ever had is telling him not to tap,” Mak says. “But if Luchador has matured like he’s led us to believe then he should just tap and take that risk of getting caught once again but with gas left in the tank.”


“That’s why IL hasn’t been a World Champion, those instincts are barbaric- why the hell would you pass out before tapping out, why not just sallow your pride and fight another day?” King asks.






“The fans are not making it any easier for IL,” King comments.


The crowd’s chanting only leaves IL in an even worse place, motivated by the fans but simply stuck in the submission. Alexander continues to jeer Luchador in the hold, reassuring him he can keep this locked in all day; while Luchador’s free limbs just feebly flail. Kivell asks the swearing Luchador once again if he wants to tap but instead of the steadfast no there’s hesitation, followed by something that isn’t seen often from the Ill One, as he taps from the hold to the livid crowd.




“Winner of the first fall… via submission, Michael Alexander!”


The crowd loudly boos while Alexander retains the hold. Kivell tries to warn Alexander to free him but can’t disqualify him, so the World Champion shamelessly keeps him in the lock to screams from Luchador, prompting Kivell to practically pry him off of Luchador. He finally lets go, letting IL crumble in a heap on the canvas, and he just stands up, turning around, and mocking IL by throwing his arms into the air. He shakes his head and turns back to Luchador, watching him roll onto one knee, trying to shake off the submission. Michael Alexander approaches the challenger when IL suddenly lunges up, catching Alexander with the European Uppercut that sends him stumbling backwards, and he follows up by grabbing the back of Alexander’s head, holding it in place so he can eat three elbows! He lets go, watching Alexander’s knees buckle a little, and he just smirks before unleashing a kesagiri chop against his opponent’s neck, followed by a kick to his leg, and he throws up a high kick that Alexander luckily throws up his arms in time to absorb majority of the blow. IL continues his assault with a hard overhand right, using it to lunge forward with a knee to the gut, and he grabs Alexander in the front headlock. Except Alexander, once again, gets the best of Luchador by grabbing the back of his thighs, lifting him up, and tilting forward to dump IL onto his back. Michael tries to grab a leg but IL instantly kicks his legs about, keeping Alexander away, and he rolls backwards, onto his feet, but gets bombarded by the charging Champion. Alexander leaps into the air, flooring Luchador with a flying forearm smash, and he tries to cover Luchador but Kivell doesn’t even have time to drop before it’s broken up. Alexander chuckles, knowing he’s simply angering IL, and stands back up, stomping down onto Luchador’s legs, and causing the Ill One to roll away in retreat. He follows after him until Insane Luchador rolls up and the challenger throws a wild right hook in hopes to fend off the Champion but luckily it connects, dazing Alexander, and allowing IL to leap out with a spinning back kick! The blow sends Alexander staggering back and Luchador runs at him, suddenly dropping down into a roll, and connecting with the Rolling Koppo kick to the crowd’s delight, leaving Alexander flailing back into the ropes. He hits the ring ropes, his arms wrapping around them to keep from flipping out of the ring, but he only finds that to be of no use because IL gets up, breaks into a sprint, and leaps out into a dropkick that sends Alexander flipping over the top rope, toppling to the outside. He smacks down and Insane Luchador stands by the ropes, throwing his arms in the air while Alexander pushes himself back up, annoyed at getting caught by the dropkick, and turns around to see Luchador already airborne! The Ill One collides into him with the crossbody to the fans’ delight, sending both men smacking down. Luchador gets up onto his knees, his face hovering above Alexander’s, and he sends a sharp bitch slap before saying, “Welcome to my world.”


“You heard it from Luchador,” Mak says. “IL has finally taken it into his territory!”


He grabs Alexander’s head, lifting it up, only to throw it back down with a sickening thud against the thin mat. IL stands back up, laughing, and his eyes scanning the arena like a kid in a candy store, unsure of where to start. He looks over at an employee sitting in a steel chair, who he simply smiles at, and that works as a cue for the worker, who bails out of their seat. Luchador walks over and grabs the chair, folding it, and heading back towards Alexander whose arm is slung over the steel barricade to get back up. IL walks over, kicking Alexander in the head on the ground, and then brings up the chair, bringing it down against Alexander’s arm! The Champion quickly withdraws his arm, clutching it while swearing, and he decides to act, rolling up onto a knee. He sends a nasty low blow IL’s way, that nearly makes him squeal, and it lets Alexander stand up. He bitch slaps his challenger, stripping him of his chair, and swiftly clocking him right over the head with it! IL stumbles a few steps back when Alexander strikes once again, Luchador barely even shielding himself from the blow, and he staggers back even further while a psychotic smile crawls onto his face. This time Alexander backs up before running forward, this time connecting with a chair shot that reverberates throughout the arena, garnering a sympathy groan from the audience, and Insane Luchador finally crumbles, only to roll onto one knee with a laugh.


“Can Alexander take that kind of beating, King?” Mak asks.


“I don’t know, he’s not dumb enough to get beat like that,” King replies.


Alexander tries to catch Luchador but it’s like an unsuccessful version of whack-a-mole as IL rolls away, onto one knee with laughter, causing the Champion to try again, only to miss. Luchador rolls up onto both knees, hands put together in prayer, and begging the World Champion in between laughter to hit him with the chair. Alexander, however, relatively keeps his cool, and he simply heaves the chair at Luchador, smacking him right in the head! IL crumbles down with a groan while Alexander shakes his head at Luchador’s attempt to intimidate him, now turning his attention to underneath the ring to see what goodies are underneath. His eyes bulge and he suddenly pulls out not one but two Excaliburs, the light tube sword, and he wisely tosses them off to the side, shattering them from being used. Again he lifts the ring skirt while IL lifts himself up with help from the steel barricade, chair in hand, and a smile plastered across his face. He slowly stalks over to the oblivious Alexander, who is contently rummaging underneath the ring and a wave of cheers hits while IL lifts the chair high above his head. The cheers concern Alexander who looks out from underneath the ring and like a cliché horror movie he sees Luchador’s shadow engulf him before he turns around to face it, getting plastered with a chair shot! IL changes his grip and grabs it by its legs, jabbing it down at Alexander’s body to hear swears from the Champion. Luchador lifts it back into the air but Alexander wisely rolls away, which gives IL the privacy he apparently desired, because he tosses the chair aside and begins his own hunt underneath the ring. Meanwhile Alexander uses the steel ring post for assistance up and IL continues his search, pulling out a trashcan, which he casually tosses into the ring. He then digs deeper underneath the ring, his face lighting up, and he slowly pulls out a table to a roar of approval from the crowd, setting it aside behind him, and he glances over at the nearly standing Alexander, deciding to put the hunt on pause. He begins to head over towards Alexander but is deterred by the World Champion because he jogs over to an employee, shoving them out of their chair, and folding it back up. Insane Luchador backs away and looks down, grabbing the table, and holds it like a battering ram, raising his eyebrows in a taunt to Alexander. He charges forward, table out as if he were jousting, and Michael Alexander pulls off a shocking display of agility. He leaps onto the bulky guardrail, narrowly dodging being tripped by the loathing fans, and he approaches Luchador, swinging the chair like a bat and catching him flush in face, instantly busting him open, but the momentum sends Alexander plopping into the crowd. The table lands on top of Luchador, the chair beside him and the Ill One just loudly groans from the ugly shot.


“Amazing agility by Alexander in a move that IL couldn’t have seen coming,” Mak says.


Alexander, besides being ambushed by the fans until security dashes over, stands up and hops over beside IL in amusement. He picks up the table and lifts it up, driving it down into Luchador’s windpipe, causing IL to spasm while clutching his throat. Alexander slides the table into the ring and looks for the chair, realizing it’s missing, and before he can react IL throws it against his kneecaps, temporarily stunning him. A livid Luchador rolls up to his feet and charges, flooring him with a clothesline! He looks up at the table in the ring, deciding not to retrieve it, and he guides Alexander onto his knees, just to deliver hard blows to daze him. He then grabs the steel chair and lifts it in the air, pausing to jeer his opponent, and bringing it down to crack him in the head, causing Alexander to crumble down. Luchador drops the dented chair and grabs Alexander by the arm, dragging him along ringside, and they head towards the announcer’s table to the announcers’ dismay.


“It might be time to abandon ship,” King advises.


IL starts to bring Alexander up but gets raked in the eyes, letting Alexander grab Luchador, tossing him into the steel steps, dislodging them! He walks over, gets the steel steps, and holds it high into the air before bringing it down against his leg. He brings it back up into the air once again but Luchador kicks him directly in the kneecap twice, causing Alexander to drop the stairs, and IL evades by rolling away, then rolling up. He rushes at Michael, stunning him with an elbow, and Irish whips him towards the announcer’s table! The announcers bail and Alexander smacks against the table with such force he actually travels over the top of the table, plopping down on the other side.


IL smirks and walks over, hearing Alexander moan in pain, but stops short of the table, instead heading for the ring apron. Insane Luchador lifts it up, peering underneath, but obviously can’t find what he’s looking for and when Luchador becomes picky it usually means-


“Excalibur, it looks like Luchador’s looking for another Excalibur!” Mak says, now sitting beside the table while King shamelessly pulls away his rolling chair from Alexander, who tried to use it to help himself up.


Insane Luchador lifts it up once again and this time his eyes go wide as he pulls out a larger structure, three layers of light tubes taped in a square with two stacked ones running across the middle, effectively making it a light tube grid. IL smirks at the sight and gingerly slides it into the ring before he digs underneath once again, this time pulling out a glistening object. Alexander, now groggily leaning against the announcer’s table, looks up to see IL with Excalibur, causing him to yank at a monitor, breaking the cord, and he chucks it at Luchador! It sails right by Luchador’s head, actually bouncing off the ring ropes, and breaking beside IL, who slowly turns around with a disapproving shaking head. He begins to charge at Alexander, who holds in his position, and IL approaches the table, leaping onto it, ready to swing when suddenly Alexander trips him! IL falls flat against the table, holding onto Excalibur, and Alexander grabs the wrist that wields the weapon, viciously cranking at it. He tries to snap Luchador’s wrist but instead IL throws back two kicks that stun him, allowing IL to roll off to the side of the table. He wildly swings it but Alexander ducks underneath it, using the opportunity to lunge over the table, hitting the ground in a roll, and he stands up, only to have IL charging at him! Luchador holds it high above his head but wisely Alexander kicks him in the gut, stopping the charge, and he suddenly dives down towards Luchador’s leg, clutching it, and tripping him down to the canvas while clutching it! He effortlessly turns the confused Luchador over, who tries to aim a blind, backwards swing without any luck, and Alexander looks ready to cross the legs in hopes of the Gordian Knot! Instead Luchador waits until he feels Alexander, working quickly to avoid the shot from Excalibur, hovering over him to send it backwards, shattering it right over his head! The crowd explodes in cheers as Alexander falls backwards, clutching at his face now peppered with shards of glass, and IL stands back up, discarding the stub of Excalibur.


“Now Michael’s getting a taste of what Luchador’s ideal environment is like,” Mak happily says.


He runs over and begins to brutally stomp on Alexander in a flurry that Michael can’t stop, leaving the Champion at the mercy of a man proclaimed as a sadomasochist. IL’s stomps slow as Alexander’s body doesn’t thrash about as much, leaving IL to carefully pull Alexander up to his feet. He grabs him by back of the head, guiding him over to the ring post, and slamming it once against the ring post! He then looks at the steel steps beside them, kneeing Alexander in the gut, and slamming his head against that as well, before ending the little tour by smacking his head against the guardrail, finally throwing him onto the announcer’s table. But instead of climbing onto the table Insane Luchador looks back to the ring, running over, hopping onto the ring apron, and instantly scaling the top turnbuckle. The crowd screams their support as Insane Luchador stares at the long distance between him and Alexander before throwing his arms in the air, bending his knees, and taking the long leap out with a Frog Splash! The World Champion, well aware of the situation, tries to roll away when IL suddenly collides, connecting, snapping the table in half with wooden shards flying like shrapnel, and IL toughs out the pain to go for the much-needed cover-


“Frog Splash through our table!”






“OOOOONNNNEEEE!” The crowd chants.



“No, no, no,” King protests.







The World Champion faces a dilemma, on one hand he could put all he has into kicking out, keeping his lead, but risk getting put down again. On the other hand, he could just stay down, making him tied, but with chance of rest. The smug World Champion tries to choose the former-






“Winner of the second fall… INSANE LUCHADOR!”


“Yes, he scores a fall and Luchador’s dream continues!”


“That’s all it is, Mak, a dream!” King barks.


Insane Luchador rolls off of Alexander, almost wondering if he should attempt another pin, but instead he grabs him by his hair, tugging the limp Champion to his feet, and sliding him into the ring before he leans against the ring apron, trying to calm his heaving chest. He scales onto the ring apron, throwing his arms into the air to a wave of crazy cheers, and looks in the ring at Alexander crawling into center of the ring. He also sees the table, light tube grid, and trashcan. He slings himself over the top rope and walks past the light tube grid, steering clear of Alexander who musters up the strength only a World Champion (or the undead) can summon, and he heads for the table. He picks it up, heading for the turnbuckle, and sets up one leg, leaning it against the turnbuckle so it slants down. He facetiously brushes away at the table and nonchalantly turns around to see Alexander grasping the trashcan, upside down, and pulling himself back up with his own smirk. Insane Luchador breaks into a charge towards Alexander who suddenly drops the trashcan onto its side, rolling it at Luchador, but the Ill One leaps over it! IL once again leaps into the air with a flying forearm smash but Alexander drops down flat on the canvas, letting IL soar over him, and crash and burn against the canvas. The World Champion smartly heads over and grabs the trash can, approaching the challenger. Insane Luchador grabs at the ring ropes, sitting up, when Alexander staggers over, lifting the can into the air, and bringing it down, crunching it over IL! He does it once again, practically making the trashcan useless, and IL falls down to the canvas but Alexander isn’t satisfied. He sets the trashcan upside down, lifts up the dazed Rickmen, and knees him in the gut. He is able to get underneath Luchador, grabbing him in a standing fireman’s carry, and begins to spin around, disorienting them, but he carefully aims as he lets go, clinging onto that one leg, and brings IL down face first against the upside down trashcan, crunching it like an accordion! Instead of using it as a transition for the Gordian Knot he simply rolls Luchador over, attempting for the pin!













The Ill One, despite being rather battered, proves the conviction that only a man chasing a title for seven years can have, kicking out of the pin to Alexander’s dismay.


“Luchador won’t quit until he has that World Title,” Mak says.


He grabs a handful of Luchador’s hair, tugging him up, and looking over at the table Luchador set up. He drags Luchador along with him, slapping him and jeering with his free hand, heading over to the light tube grid. He uses his foot to kick it near the turnbuckle as he continues to belittle Insane Luchador who suddenly muscles free, only to get smacked with a hard elbow from the World Champion. He, however, returns with a right hand that riles the crowd up and yet another right, sending Alexander stumbling back towards the table. He takes a step back and lunges forward with a wild right haymaker, hoping to put him out, but Alexander ducks underneath it, now behind Luchador! He grabs a hold of Luchador’s thigh, to a deafening frenzy of jeers, and gets his head underneath Luchador’s arm.


“Event Horizon and it’s over!”


He grunts and lifts him into the air for the Event Horizon, spinning towards the table, and ready to drop Luchador when he flips free to an explosion from the crowd!


“Luchador’s free and now he has Alexander!”


IL repeats the identical motions of Alexander except instead of spinning he hoists the World Champion even higher, dropping backwards, and angling his head to come crashing through the table. The arena nearly falls silent as Insane Luchador nearly cripples Alexander with his Goregasm, the Backdrop Driver, as his head and neck fold against the table first, the following weight making the table collapse, and he flips onto the table wreckage to a thunderous roar. Insane Luchador rolls up to his feet and tiredly kicks the table carnage off to the side, stumbling over, and grabbing the light tube grid, dragging it closer to the turnbuckle!


“He just drove him through the table with a Goregasm and I think IL has got it!”



Insane Luchador reaches down, the dried blood flaking off as the fresh droplets hit Alexander’s back, and he lifts the World Champion. He steps behind him, locking in the full nelson, and scales the turnbuckle, leaping off the top turnbuckle, swinging his legs to his side, and sending Alexander face first through the light tube grid that shatters everywhere, showering the immediate area with glass shards. Insane Luchador rolls Alexander over, who now bleeds in various locations with chunks of glass in him, and he smirks before covering him!


HO-LY SHIT! The chant repeats until Kivell finally makes the count-









“It’s a cold day in hell,” King mutters.




“I don’t believe it! Insane Luchador has just won the World Heavyweight Championship! After seven years, seven years of absolute hell he is our new World Champion!”


“But just wait for that rematch. He’s going to get disassembled.”




The wary Luchador at first doesn’t seem to comprehend the moment, leaning back onto his knees, gasping for air, and finally he sees the glistening World Heavyweight Championship being brought towards him. He pushes himself up to his feet as the crowd drowns out Funyon’s official announcement-




The surreal moment for IL continues as Kivell holds his hand in the air while IL wipes away the blood with his free hand before getting the title handed to him. He cradles it in his arms and looks around at the carnage surrounding the ring, at the beaten World Champion. He just stares at it and suddenly the psychotic laughter breaks through and he hoists it into the air, creating a whole new level of noise.


“Nobody else deserves it more,” Mak firmly says. “Insane Luchador has been through more than most people can even imagine and it has finally paid off, he’s our Champ!”


“Yeah, but for how long?”


“After a display like tonight, King, I doubt he’ll be handing it over anytime soon,” Mak sincerely replies. “It has been a historic night to say the least and I want to congratulate our new Champion and thank you all for watching. Will there be an Age of the Ill One or was it a fluke... that is something that will have to be seen!"


It slowly fades away with Luchador still standing triumphantly in center of the ring, belt held high, and a genuine, sincere smile across his face.

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