Battleground 23 : Love Hurts (Show)

[Trent Jones MR Bones.]

Inside the courtroom shows once more the scene is paused as we see Anthony Knucks Stevenson as he stands in the courtroom in his red tie and black suit. His mohawk is dyed red and his face is painted just a very simple white with black around his eyes.

Why is the former RSW star here in the courtroom. Where has Knucks been all of this time? Well lets rejoin the courtroom and see what we can find out.

Anthony Knucks Stevenson approaches the bench, the police officer approaches him so he stops. He hands over some paperwork, “Your honor my name is Anthony Knucks Stevenson and I am here to let you know that as of this morning. I am the new soul owner of Girls… Girls… Girls. It is my understanding that the reason we are in this courtroom is that Trent Jones and his friends destroyed my strip club.”

Trent Jones looks at Alex and then back at the former Pro Wrestler. “Alex that the hired good of Crazy J one of the owners of AIW…. I have their belt. Do you think this is why he is here?”

Alex looks back over at him, “DO you know this guy?” Trent shook his head no, “So I am guessing it might have to do with the belt.”

“Your Honor I would like to meet with Trent Jones for a few minutes and discuss this issue. Can we have a recess for a few minutes?”

The Judge Speaks, “I guess I could allow that do you want a police officer to go with you?” Knucks shakes his head no and the judge goes ahead and grants the 15 minute recess.

*************
Alex, Trent and Knucks walk out of the courtroom and enter one of the side rooms. Trent Isn't
sure what to think of all of this. Trent offers his hand to Knucks but Knucks does not take. They sit down and Alex tries to speak but he is stopped by Anthony Knucks Stevenson.

“Listen its very simple, My name is Anthony Knucks Stevenson as you know I was a tag team champion in the RSW and one of the hottest names in XHF. I also have a connection to AIW and it is my understanding that you are holding the Asylum Islands wrestling championship. As you know Duke was sadly the only champion and Crazy J wants it back. So here is the deal we have purchased the strip club and we will drop all charges against you if you return it… but I would also like to do more than that. As you know I was lucky to train under Skull Master and I am now taking on clients as well. I just need to know if you are interested in this offer?”

Trent didn't want to agree to anything but he also wanted this bullshit to be over. If Trent Jones was going to walk into the Arena and win his first title he knew what he had to do. Plus getting off probation was a step to him possibly trying to get ahold of Molly and really giving this relationship a try.

“Look, Knucks I got respect for you, what you and Salem did in RSW was amazing and Filth Factory was the fucking shit. I will gladly give you the belt, I didn’t earn it I just couldn’t let that fucking trash keep it. We both came into pro wrestling and made big impacts. I would love to learn more from you.”

“Well there's a reason why we didn't just take it back from you with force but we will save that for another day. My Jet is at the airport. Let's finish this in the courtroom and let's get on the way to Paris France where the girls armpit hair is full and bushy.”

****************
Back in the courtroom the case is called back up. The judge calls Anthony Knucks Stevenson backup to the stand. Anthony Knucks Stevenson smiles as he sits down.

“Your Honor on behalf of Girls… Girls...Girls… I would like to drop all charges against Trent Jones.” Knucks smiles as he looks over at Trent and then at the prosecution team.

Of course they object, “Your honor just because a new person purchased the club they should not be able to just drop the charges. The state would like to continue moving forward with the charges.”

“I figured you would have an issue, I also have signed notarized documents from the stripper that has pressed charges and the bouncers they all would like to drop the charges. You see it turns out they all now agree the Ryders leader did not start the fight. At this time your honor we owe it to Mr. Trent Jones to be able to win this title. What better message does this send to the kids that when things go wrong in life push through, take your medication and do as you asked. Let's face it Layton Cook has not had a job in years, now he is fully employed and doing well. So not only has Trent turned his life around he also has turned around Layton Cook like as well.”

Alex Stone speaks up next, “Your Honor I have to agree with Mr. Stevenson. My client has complied with every single request the court had made and even returned a wrestling title that was stolen by Duke *cough* Big Shock *cough*. Throughout these last few months my clients character has changed, he has denounced the gang life and become a professional in and out of the ring.”

OK lets not get to far, he hasn't become a fucking saint all of a sudden he still the same old asshole he just is not doing the dumb shit on camera. But at some point you have to give him credit for at least doing that much.

The Judge was quick to speak, “Trent Jones, I know you want to win this title and you have worked hard to get this shot. I personally am, rooting for you to continue down this path, and though I question how much money was spent to free you of all of this? I still have to do the right thing. I will allow the state to continue forward with the case, however I will grant you the ability to travel for work.”

Alex Stone speaks up, “Your honor I believe he has served enough time in the Halfway House as he has proved he has the skills. I would like to move him out of the halfway house and into a home of his own. My client is a star now and has money to pay his way. He needs to have a home with a security system and a security team watching it. What if he still sees Dr Phillips bi weekly and he continues to stay out of trouble?”

Trent decides to speak up as well because you know he is almost a lawyer, “Your honor, I am not a perfect man but coming from a broken home, living on the streets, Drinking and doing whatever I wanted for years made me lose track. I lost track of who I am, but I have found me and I am now on the right path. No matter what you decide today I am thankful you are allowing me to go to Paris and get my chance to be called a champion. That is something I never seen happening to me in the past. My life has changed forever and I owe it to Dr. Philips, Alex Stone, Anthony Stevenson, and of course you.”

That was painful for Trent to say most of that was pre written by Alex when they were in the side room. Trent wanted to skull fuck the judge and Dr Philips was a stupid bitch. But Trent would continue to take the medications so he could get released from this program.

The Judge spoke up, “Well I will be honest I didn’t see that being said by you Mr. Jones. But I am glad to hear you say that. I am going to allow you to move out in 30 days if you do well. In the meantime find a home and get it ready. But don’t pull anymore stunts with rental cars or anything else… and oh Trent Jones good luck in your match.”

*********************
Paris France-

Trent Jones steps off of the private jet with Anthony Knucks Stevenson with him. Trent Jones is dressed in red pants and a red shirt with a black vest. Knucks is dressed in all black with a red vest. They walk over to a limo that is waiting for them.

Knucks speaks first, “the city of love and here I am with your ugly ass… so Trent Jones I know your single but have you ever had that special lady?”

Trent Jones looks outside and then looks at Knucks, “Once I had a good thing going this woman was beautiful and smart but then she lost her shit…” Trent stops speaking for a minute.

Knucks wants to hear more. He figures it is a good story, “So what happened?”

“Well she had an 18 year old daughter that lived with us, and you would have thought no one ever fucked her daughter before.” Knucks laughs as Trent continues, “Dude I didn’t mean to screw her but she walked in my room naked and I was like let me fuck this bitch real quick. That problem was she had me all worked up so after I blew like a mayo jar with a grenade in it. I was still rock hard so I went another round… that's when I got caught… that's when she went crazy.”

Oh my Knucks choked laughing so hard at the story. The two continued on the way to the arena. “Look I am not going to be around every day or week but I will be in contact with you. I expect you to win tonight and I will take care of getting you that home you want. But if you lose, I am not buying you shit.”

********************
Live at the Arena
********************

The arena lights go out as static is heard on the screen. Then an explosion at the entrance goes off and a dark blue spot light shines on the stage as White Trash Renegade starts playing throughout the arena. Trent Jones steps out wearing black cargo pants and a White Tank top that says Mr Bones on it. Trent is wearing black MMA style gloves and he has on a black hat that says Killin It. As he walks slowly to the ring he stretches his neck and shoulders and talks shit to the fans as he makes his way to the ring.

Trent Jones looks fired up and new entrance music and no Biker Vest this week. Trent calls for a microphone. They toss him the microphone and he catches it. Trent looks out and some fans are already booing him as he blows a snot rocket out of the ring.

Trent Jones, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Tonight you are about to see history in the fucking making. Trent Jones tonight in his very first ever title shot. Some will say I have less experience than 110% over ratted and Eddie the T Rex.” Trent Points to a very sexy looking lady and calls her into the ring. Security goes to stop her but he tells them to let her go. She climbs in the ring and Trent kisses her on both cheeks.

“Look Babe hold this microphone for me” He hands her the microphone and puts his arms in his tank top and sticks his arms out half-way. “I am Eddie D and my muscles are so big I can’t reach my own dick” Trent tries to reach down and he can’t. Trent pulls out his arms and takes the microphone back but has her stay.

“Eddie the worst part about being that built up besides the little dick and not being able to piss alone… is the fact you can't even come close to doing the proper paperwork after taking a shit. But tonight I will prove that you not only smell like Shit that you look like Shit when in the ring with Mr. bones.”

The crowd laughs as the funny American talks shit about his opponents, “Mr. 110% overrated I am sure people have said that already but fuck it I don't watch pro wrestling I am Pro Wrestling. As the first Superstar to compete in the XHF under Anthony Knucks Stevenson Branded Filth Wrestlers I am proud to say tonight I end that title run.”

Trent Jones looks at the beautiful girl and then back out at the crowd, “Tonight in the city of fucking love Trent Jones is going to give you all the gift of a new and Improved International Champion. Trent Jones is going to put a new standard in SWAT for being a champion. The days of weak mind and body wrestlers winning here in SWAT are done. Just like that Russian Monster I ended so will come the end of Syberous. I promised to take the trash out and tonight 2 more people fall victim to Trent Jones… MR. Bones.”

Trent takes off his tank top and hands it to the girl she puts it on and its huge on her. She kisses him on the lips and she goes back to her seat. Trent Continues to talk to the crowd. “You see I never gave a fuck about anyone and I didn't come to SWAT to get the fans to love me. But some of you sick bastards do love me… and I would like to thank you for your support.” Trent rolls out of the ring and pulls out a black hoodie that says killing it.

He places the hoodie on his body, “Ladies and gentleman, right now in the parking lot and after the show you can purchase my brand new Killin It hoodie for the low price of $50 American so whatever that is in french money. SWAT was too slow to produce my new hoodie so I found 6 kids in china that have not caught the Orange Chicken flu to make them. These things look good, and they are available while supplies last.”

“Tonight Trent Jones walks out International champion and their isn’t a damn thing Eddie D or Syberus is going to to do to stop that… you can count on that because I am killing It!”

Trent Jones slides out of the ring as White Trash Renegade starts playing once more. Trent winks at the sexy girl in his tank top and he heads to the back as fans cheer and boo him.

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker : Big win that was to Goth and the Disciples.

Andrew Fulton : The Society dropped the ball. Let’s see if the Golden God Rally Jackson can do any better against Travis Daniels.

Jeremy Tucker : He made some unsavoury remarks about Travis’ family and ex wife earlier, in true Rally fashion.

Andrew Fulton : You have to admire that about him, he calls it like he see’s it.

Jeremy Tucker : I have been informed since he arrived in Paris the sales of Croissants have skyrocketed!

[

["Hate or Glory" by Gesaffelstein hits and Rally Jackson makes his way down to the ring.]

Frank Salazar Ladies and Gentleman, the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall! Introducing first, representing the Society of the New Breed .... coming in at 6’1 and 300 pounds .....THE GOLDEN GOD ... RALLY JACKSON!!!!

[Scars - I prevail hits and Travis Daniels makes his way down to the ring.]

Frank Salazar : And introducing his opponent, hailing from New York, New York. Coming in at 6’2 and 221 pounds ... TRAVIS DANIELS!!!

Andrew Fulton : Referee Vick Mackey calls for the bell and we are under way.

Jeremy Tucker : Rally and Travis circle each other slowly, Travis moves in and Rally catches him with a kick to the side of Travis’s knee.

Andrew Fulton : Rally with another kick to the knee of Daniels, and Daniels buckles.

Jeremy Tucker : Travis has been semi successful since debuting here in SWAT.

Andrew Fulton : You call beating HB and the enhancement pool semi successful?

Jeremy Tucker : Rally grabs Daniels and headbutts hum, he holds onto his ears and then reverse Russian leg sweeps him, rolling into a leg lock.

Andrew Fulton : Jackson is a pro, look at him putting pressure on the knee he just took out.

Jeremy Tucker : Travis is buckled over in pain, he tries to crawl to the ropes but Rally grapevines the body and locks him in the middle of the ring. Rally is real out of shape, i can not believe the condition he returned to the sport in. Look at him, he is nearly blowing up already.

Andrew Fulton : Rally doesn’t need to run around the ring like a circus monkey, he just beats people up.

Jeremy Tucker : Travis breaks the hold as Rally had laxed it catching a breather, and Travis hits a clothesline then a snap suplex.

Andrew Fulton : Travis trying to get back in the game, Rally slow back to his feet, Daniels goes for a Superkick, but Rally catches the foot, turns it around and while holding it, drops the elbow to the back of the knee Karate Kid style.

Jeremy Tucker : Damn! Travis Daniels drops to the match clutching at his knee.

Andrew Fulton : No Mercy. Strike First. Strike Hard!

Jeremy Tucker : You have been watching too much Cobra Kai Fulton.

Andrew Fulton : Jonny is the true babyface of the series.

Jeremy Tucker : Rally locks in a knee bar.

Andrew Fulton : He is a master of the leg lock.

Jeremy Tucker : By the look on Travis Daniels face right now, i think he will tend to agree with you.

Andrew Fulton : Rally releases the hold and grabs a bottle of water from the corner and takes a skull, he is working up a sweat in there.

Jeremy Tucker : Neckbreaker from Travis! Rally just took his eye off the ball.

Andrew Fulton : Daniels hits a back breaker on Rally. Rally rolls to the outside.

Jeremy Tucker : Boy, he is really gasping for air out there, he needs to do some cardio.

Andrew Fulton : Since when did you become the personal trainer Jerry?

Jeremy Tucker : Just look at him Fulton, he is blowing up out there. Travis moves over and Vick Mackey tells him he is going to count him out, Rally grabs the foot of Daniels and trips him over ... he then pulls Travis half way out and slams the leg down on the hard edge of the ring apron.

Andrew Fulton : Mackey telling Rally off and Rally pretending to apologise as he enters the ring, RIO SPECIAL!!! (koppo kick)

Jeremy Tucker : Rally sent Travis into next week with the Rio Special. He grabs Daniels and Sorry Miss Jackson (dominator) I am For Real (lifted back up into a package piledriver).

Andrew Fulton : Rally taking Travis up to the top rope.

Jeremy Tucker : Rio Deal !!! ( top rope piledriver)

Andrew Fulton : That should be it, no, Rally making a statement here .... climbs back to the top rope, 300 pounds looking very unbalanced up there ....

Jeremy Tucker : 630 SPLASH!!!! My GAWD!!! He just splattered Travis Daniels. Cover by Jackson and Mackey with the count ...........

One ............................

Two ..............................

THREE!!!!!!!

Frank Salazar : Winner of the match .... THE GOLDEN GOD ... RALLY JACKSON!!!

["Hate or Glory" by Gesaffelstein hits, Rally catches his breathe and referee Vick Mackey raises his arm, the Paris fans elated.]

[Lucky Linda]

”Dear Linda. “ Linda pauses, she is in the Amazons dressing room at a table and has some papers on the table in front of her, she is dressed in her ‘Wanna Get Lucky’ t shirt. “Congrats on the big win at No Man’s Land. You really showed the rest of the Amazons and the World what you are capable of and about. Well Done. Yours Sincerely. Greg.”

Linda smiles looking to the camera. “Thanks Greg. This is what makes it all worth while, the fans appreciation. (plus two million dollars)” She whispers. “What a big night it was for me, just as big as my Amazons Championship win and all the big defences i had of that prestigious title. The response has been overwhelming, and honestly, quite humbling. I have received literally thousands of messages and have printed a few to share with you all here in my new Letters with Linda segment show.”

Linda grabs another letter “Dear Linda. Well done on your recent victory, when i grow up i want to be just like you, what are you going to spend your two million on? Love Isabella.”

“Well Isabella, i actually haven’t received my chq yet. I am sure it is coming and there is some official stuff needs be done before it clears, i am eagerly awaiting it and have a few things in mind.“ Answers Linda. “As for being your hero, you clearly have good taste, too be sure too be sure” Linda chuckles at her own joke “But seriously, that means a lot to me, i try my hardest to be a role model to the youth of today, and if just one fan can learn from my work ethic and the way i conduct myelf, then that is enough for me”

Linda grabs another letter “Dear Linda. Congrats on your big win, i am a developer and i have some plans i would like to show you and let you jump on board this big development i am working on, you will make a mint” Linda furrows her brow. “Hmmmm ...I think i will give it a pass. A hard pass i believe is the term these days. A sucker is born every minute, but not this Amazon thank you.”

Linda grabs another letter. “Dear Linda. I was so angry when the KGB ruined your presentation and burnt your chq. Do you think the powers that be at SWAT were trying to appease them for not making it through to the final and also making this 6 man match to let them get one back on you for taking out the tourney? Love Rebecca”

“Let me tell you something Rebecca.” Linda stares into the camera. “If they were thinking that way in booking this follow up match, then i have news for them, i will flip the script on them just like i did to Suzi at No Man’s Land. That goes for anyone that thinks they can get past me or anyone that SWAT thinks they can put in front of me. I will mow them down just as quick as you can put them up. I won that Tourny! ME! Lady Luck! Lucky Linda La Fey! This is MY Amazons division. I have seen them all come and go. And then come and go again. The Brewsters. The Freya’s. The Damages, The Morelli’s. All damaged goods. The Jenifer Enigmas and Suzi Spits’. The ELR’s and Jezebel Coopers.” Linda shudders. “All think above themselves, all parade around like the Queen of Sheeba, wanna know what else they all have in common, they all lost to ME!”

“The KGB! They will be no different. I will take Joanne’s belt next. Then she will disappear the way of the rest of them. You want to know why? Why i am different to them all and i take my loses like a champion and keep fighting back from them? Why i change adversity into opportunity? It’s because, this is my home! I love this place, and i put my heart and soul into it accordingly. That’s what you need to make it to the top.” Linda frowns. “Do the KGB have that? We will see after i take them out wont we.”

Linda grabs another letter. “Dear Linda. I loved your match against Albion. It was a great battle of two women who play by the rules and give all they have, do you think after that battle you two will be able to co exist in your match with the KGB? Love Meltzer”

“Meltzer?” Linda gives a puzzled look. “Well Dave. I can not speak for Albion or Seiji, but for myself, i can gladly work with them, after i beat her and the KGB tried to ruin the party, she stood back to back with me, like two gunslingers in the old west. Seiji came to our aid and they both raised my arms in victory like the good sports they are. I see no reason why the three of us can not beat them.”

Linda grabs another letter “Dear Linda, congrats on your win, can i please borrow a couple of thousand? You know we have always been tight and i am your biggest fan. Love Andrew Fulton, the voice of SWAT.”

“Andrew Fulton?” Linda chuckles, a hearty laugh ensuing. “You have two chances of getting a penny out of me Mr Fulton. Buckley’s, and none.” Linda shakes her head. “Stick to being the Voice and make your own damn money.”

Linda grabs another letter “Dear Linda. You did well against the girls, but you can’t compete with Tong and Phantam! They are MEN! You are but a wee lass. Get with reality and stick with the women. Yours sincerely John.

“Dear John.” Linda ponders her response. “SWAT has some of the biggest and toughest wrestlers to ever compete in this industry. Both men and women. I have been in the ring with both. I went toe to toe with the baddest man to ever enter SWAT, Radu Matei. I earned his respect in that match, and while he came out victorious on that occasion, i showed the world that i can hang with anyone on the planet. The world recognised that and we won Match of the Year last year. Get with the times and go have another look at that match and tell me i cant hang with the Fairtex brothers. Better yet, get a load of this upcoming match, when i not only hold my own with them, but defeat them!”

Linda pushes the letters to the side. “That’s all the mail we have for today. There were literally thousands of others, some complimentary, others just plain disgusting, seriously, what is wrong with some of you creeps? Also, i would like to thank all the beautiful people out there wanting to be my Valentine, in my eyes, you are all my Valentines! KGB! See you in the ring.”

[anthonycaffrey]

Cameras begin to flash in the press room as the arrogant veteran, Anthony Caffrey, climbs the few stairs to step onto the stage set up for the event. He shakes a SWAT representative’s hand and poses for a picture. He seems more than thrilled as he makes his way to the podium, where a SWAT baseball cap has been left for him. He leaves the hat for now as he speaks to the press.

“Bonjour. Je m’appelle Antoine Caffrey. Je ne parle pas francais tres bien, je parle… comme ca?”

He wavers his hand, unsure if his French is correct. The crowd of reporters laugh at him, knowing that he’s mispronounced more than a few words. He immediately stops the French and transitions back into English.

“In other words, the French classes I took ten years ago weren’t worth shit. I’m speaking English at this press conference, so if you can’t understand, you may as well hit the road.”

He makes a shooing motion, indicating for people to leave. He waits patiently for them to go, resisting the urge to continue speaking. The awkward pause becomes a minor commotion as there seems to be a breakdown in communication until one of the reporters speaks up.

“Monsieur, we have hired a translator for this event.”

The translator, a younger French woman, begins to speak into her own microphone. She gets a few words out before Caffrey walks over to her and swats the microphone out of her hands. The crowd’s excitement quickly turns to disapproval and booing as Caffrey kicks it offstage.

“America first, you French-fried cowards.”

The booing gets louder as a handful of reporters make their way towards the exits, knowing it’ll be impossible to understand what Caffrey has to say. The English-speaking reporters push their way to the front, knowing that they’ve gained an opportunity to get a big scoop.

“Ah yes. This little hat here, in case you missed the memo, is an indicator that I’ve signed full-time with the hottest company in the XHF today, S-W-A-T. Our wonderful commissioner Zainovic just won the X-Crown, and with the signing of a future world champion, things are only looking up for the company.”

Caffrey’s claims are big, but one look at the man smiling behind the microphone tells you that he means every word he says.

“Speaking of the International Championship, in addition to announcing my signing, I would like to declare that I am officially disputing to the International Championship Match taking place tonight. It is my belief -- no, it’s a fact -- that after the Rumble, I should be declared the champion. I will give SWAT officials until the end of Love Hurts to make things right---”

He pauses, letting the booing members of the public mixed amongst the gathered crowd have their say. The volume of their booing also indicates that Caffrey doesn’t have another choice.

“---after all, I eliminated Syberus from that match. Go back and look at the tape! The road agents said he shouldn’t compete. You even heard it on commentary! That man bled all over New York and I crippled him. That’s a plain and true fact. That man was not cleared by any doctor or medical professional, also a plain and true fact. He could have sustained a career-threatening injury if he continued to wrestle on his broken ankle, and he’s too dumb to have realized that himself. Those two things are also plain and true facts. Put it all together, and it’s no surprise that why officials stopped him from entering the match!”

You can tell Caffrey really does not like 110% Syberus by his near-refusal to even mention his name. His pedantic explanation of Syberus’ injury -- an injury that he himself caused -- gets more of their disapproval.

“Therefore, his entrance into the match-- Syberus being last screams of him slipping a Benjamin to someone with that deciding authority, by the way-- is therefore null and void. Due to the stipulations passed down by the powers that be, I am your new International champion.”

Caffrey bows his head for a few moments and extends his arms, allowing the audience to graciously praise him. They do not. He retracts the arms and looks straight at the camera filming everything.

“Now, if Mr. Percentage Sign has finally stopped bleeding all over the damn place, I’m formally requesting that he surrender the International Championship to me at Love Hurts. That would be the easiest solution for all parties involved. I get my championship that rightfully belongs to me, and he gets to walk away without needing crutches. It’s a win-win.”

The booing only gets louder as Caffrey smiles again.

“But let’s face it: I should have walked out of the Rumble with that opportunity. Somewhere out there, if Valentine’s not busy making an ass out of trying and failing to do comedy… man, I thought people complaining about SNL going downhill were full of shit, but...well, yikes.”

Caffrey’s doing his damnedest to avoid talking about his elimination and everyone knows it.

“Somewhere out there, Valentine knows his time is coming to an end. Congrats on your upcoming victories over Psychotic Goth and Tarresque. Have fun knowing that everywhere you go, people will know that you’re just keeping my championship warm. I know I said this before, but I can’t trust you to remember it, so please keep my championship nice and shiny. It’s a little thing, but it’s the difference between me breaking one of your ankles instead of two.”

Caffrey holds up a middle finger for one, before turning his hand around and adding his pointer finger, creating a different offensive hand sign.

“As I mentioned, unfortunately, I came up a little short. The world was stunned as I went tumbling to the outside, and eventually, my feet did hit the floor. But that was after I eliminated four men, and yes you idiots, I am counting 110% Dickhead.”

Caffrey tone has changed from jovial to a bit more resentful. He stands at his podium and bangs taps his fingers against it rapidly, trying his best to repress and reign in his anger. It’s not really working.

“But we all know that wasn’t my fault.”

Caffrey reaches under the podium and pulls out a cinder block. He slams it down on the podium, almost knocking it over with the sheer force of the impact.

“As I was about to cement my legacy and become the crowning savior of SWAT, the Cement Six took me and held me down. They poured cement around my ankles and ejected me from the ring, powerless to defend myself, because they knew I would beat them. Each man knew they were powerless to stop me on their own, so they teamed up. Each man knew that even though I entered fifth I would be the last man standing.”

Caffrey shakes his head, obviously frustrated with himself.

“Those men include Alex Withers, Frostbite, Bones, Eddie D… and now, they’re all on my list. I have hard elbows and broken ankles to give out. I don’t care if they’re booed or cheered. I came here so I could beat the shit out of each and every one of them. Right now I only care that they know what it’s like to feel pain. They will suffer.”

He knocks on the cinder block to show its sturdiness.

“You just don’t get in the way of Anthony Caffrey. Hell, if you really wanted, you could tug on Superman’s cape. It’d be foolish, but you’d walk away after. But you get in my way, you get between me and my goal?”

In one violently efficient motion, he grabs the cinder block and chucks it off the side of the stage. A few members of the press have to dodge and duck out of the way, but the block hits the ground and immediately splits and shatters into multiple pieces. Caffrey catches his breath from throwing the block and looks directly to the camera.

“You cement your fate.”

Caffrey lets the visual of the splintered cement capture the media’s attention for a few moments, letting those men know that he’s gunning for them. But he definitely has enough of a challenge already on his plate.

“But at Love Hurts, I get two members of the Cement Six at the same time. I get “Timeless” Alex Turner and… Roxylishus.”

Caffrey rubs his hands through his hair. You can tell he’s honestly not sure of the answer. He shrugs it off, laughing to himself.

“I know what you all want me to say. You want me to speak negatively on Miss Roxylishus’ promiscuity! You want me to call her names, and to treat her as a lesser woman because she puts her body on display! Or you want me to say that she could do better because she hangs out with low-life scumbags who can’t even come up with an original name for a group. Granted, I named a stable the Arrogant Violent Assholes back in AXW, but the KGB? Really? Even the jokes I could make about that name are outdated, for fucksake!”

He rolls his eyes before having to stifle a short laugh.

“But the thing is… I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to speak negatively on Miss Roxy’s appearance or call her names. I have no comment on the way she carries herself or the company she keeps. You want to know why? It’s because I’m a feminist.”

Caffrey literally pats himself on the back for being more morally upstanding than most. Some boo this self-congratulating, especially since Caffrey is also the same asshole who nearly maimed and crippled the International champion.

“Now, if Miss Roxy wants to dress like a whore, she can go right ahead. If Miss Roxy wants to hang out with a group of guys who can’t accomplish anything on their own, go for it. But there is one important caveat I’d like to make: if Miss Roxy wants to get involved during another one of my matches, I will cripple her all the same. I am an equal opportunity ankle breaker.”

He cracks his knuckles, having insulted Roxy all the same.

“My Cement Six hitlist does not discriminate. I don’t care who you are. I care that you got in my fucking way. And tonight, tonight Alex Turner learns the lesson. He finds out what happens when a man who’s as pretty as a postcard fights a man who will absolutely shred him. Sir Winsalot is about to run full speed into the Chief Asshole, a man who literally so much a company had to close because the fans were tired of me making every one of their heroes tap out.”

Caffrey puts on a voice of sarcasm.

“Oh but Caffrey, he’s got a metal hand! How are you gonna stop him?”

He facepalms.

“Go ask Blake Luthor what happened when he came up against me for the AXW Undisputed Championship. You know what? Fuck, I’ll just tell you, since most of you are just like Syberus, too dumb to look up anything other than your own win and loss records. I destroyed him. I beat him so badly that he left the AXW to pursue a career of absolute nothingness. And that asshole had TWO metal hands.”

Caffrey leans into his microphone, knowing only two of the words he needs.

“Deux is better than un, folks. Two metal hands are better than one, and I still broke that guy’s ankle. So what’s Timeless gonna do, huh? Punch me in the face with his good hand? Great. I’m sure that will hurt like a bitch, but if there’s one thing anyone in the XHF will tell you, it’s that I’m awfully good at getting punched in the face. You think all these babies are real?”

Caffrey smiles his sinister smile long enough that the crowd can actually examine his teeth a bit.

“Hell no! Timeless can punch me in the face from here to Versailles, it doesn’t matter. He winds up a punch one too many times, and I’ll stop him like an airport metal detector. I’ll drop him to the mat, lock in the Process, and you’ll see something if you watch real closely.”

Caffrey encourages the cameraman to come up on stage. He turns away from the press and speaks directly to the camera, letting it begin to close in on him.

“When I pull Timeless into the center of my ring and lock him in the Process, I want you to watch his face. He’ll fight, scream, and struggle for the ropes. It’s like when you hook a fish and pull it out of the water. It keeps flailing and flailing… and then it has a moment where everything stops. When everything stops for Timeless during our match, I want you to pause your television or computer. You may have to rewind it, but the moment will be about three seconds before he taps out.”

The camera is fully zoomed in on an intense Anthony Caffrey. He tells the world what they do not want to hear.

“I want you to look at that man’s face. That is a man that I guarantee you will underestimate me. It is a man who I guarantee you will think that he has what it takes. He will think that he has the deck stacked. But that moment will be a realization for him. His house of cards will come crumbling to the ground. It’ll be the moment where the pain and suffering become too much and “Timeless” Alex Turner realizes that Anthony Caffrey will stop at nothing to take what he wants.”

Caffrey does not smile. Instead, he taps on the podium four times in rhythm.

“I want you all to pause at that moment. When you resume your feed, you’ll see Timeless tap out and I’ll be declared the winner, but that’s not what’s important. What’s important is that you all realize that I am 110% serious about SWAT, and I will break each and every one of you that gets in my way. At Love Hurts, Timeless is the first, but he certainly won’t be the last. You’re about to watch a man realize… just as you’ll watch the rest of them come to learn in the coming weeks… that hell hath no fury like an Anthony Caffrey denied.”

Caffrey reaches back for the podium to put on the SWAT hat. He slides it on his head and smiles, looking back at the camera.

“Would you look at that? A perfect fit.”

The camera fades to black.

[thejerseydevildiva]

Charity

Charity brings to life again those who are spiritually dead.
Thomas Aquinas


The scene opens in the beautiful city of Newark. The sun was high in the sky, shining down on the vast city below that was filled with traffic heading this way and that. The sound of car horns mixed with the sound of birds and the sound of the ship horns as they entered the harbor. The smell of the harbor water, mixed with the restaurants that could be found lining the streets of the city. The camera moves along the streets and soon comes to a stop on a large red orange colored brick building that housed the Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Newark. The wrought iron railings ran down the stairs to the sidewalk below where a black limo sat. A news van sat nearby while other cars lined the street. The camera moves to the interior of the building, where we see white hallways filled with children's paintings, and other boards that held reminders and advertisements for programs and events that were soon approaching. Voices are soon heard coming from a large room where we see a crowd of people had gathered. Flashes came from cameras that were being held by reporters, and we see Joanne standing with an older looking woman and a Archbishop who was shaking her hand as she held a check in the other. She smiles as does the Archbishop with the next flash of one of the cameras. The press soon starts to leave the room, as Joanne sits with the woman and the Archbishop.

Archbishop: Miss Canelli you have been so generous today.

Joanne: All in a days work.

Woman: Miss Canelli you have given us enough money to get through another two years.

Archbishop: Plus all of the other donations from your associates. It's a shame others won't give like you.

Joanne smiles as she pushes back a piece of hair that had fallen into her face.

Joanne: I'm just sorry it couldn't have been more. I was expectin' another two million but I'm afraid I was beaten in that tournament.

Woman: Miss Canelli you have never disappointed us with your donations. You are a very generous woman.

Joanne: Thank you. If there is anythin' that you need don't hesitate to ask.

Archbishop: Thank you Miss Canelli. I know that you are busy, and we will take our leave of you.

Joanne nods, and shakes their hands and walks out of the room as flashes erupt once again. She walks out into the hallway, where Reno and Rude are waiting for her.

Rude: That was really nice of you boss.

Joanne: Yeah whatever...

Reno: Are you feeling alright?

Joanne: Not really... I'm in a buildin' that is a spiritual center for God, and for good... I'm not comfortable.

Rude: Then why did we come here?

Joanne: I still have to make appearances. Plus whatever that asshole showed me... I'm not sure what it was... It looked like silver... But silver doesn't work on our kind... Does it?

Reno: There's only one person that can answer that.

Joanne sighs nodding.

Joanne: Yeah I know.

Rude: Let me guess you're going to go and see him?

Joanne: I really don't have a choice. I have to know... That way they can't use it against me. And when you get back make sure that you put the "donation" in the other books.

Reno: Sure thing boss. Are you going to be alright?

Joanne: I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I have a few things to think about anyway.

Rude: How are you going to get to Seph's place?

Joanne looks around and smiles seeing a black Porsche sitting a little ways away. A young man sits in the front seat, texting on his phone. He shivers slightly and everything goes black. The scene reopens on a long stretch of road somewhere in the New York countryside. The vast fields on either side of the road were still loaded down with snow and the now setting sun casts its glow over the road and fields. The sound of an engine is heard breaking the silence and we see the same black Porsche that we had seen earlier. Inside we see slender hands with well manicured nails on the steering wheel. It was Joanne. She looks up into the rear view mirror and smiles softly.

Joanne: That tournament didn't go the way I wanted it to! I was screwed out of my place but then again, what did I expect from someone that was lookin' to impress the crowd and nothin' more? You really think this is over? Hardly. You fucked up! It should have been Linda and I facin' off not some little piece of shit that hasn't even managed to prove themselves yet. What have you done besides beat me and lose to Linda? Nothin'! Albion you ran through our match but I gave as good as I got, and I'm not goin' to hold back in this match either. We all have a little bit of help and I have to admit I'm impressed by the partners that I have. They are known, and have taken the company by storm... You on the other hand have nothin'. Prove that you are worth mentionin' and to face again and then I might take you serious.

Soon a sign is seen that read "WELCOME TO DUNWICH HELL" with a very small population number underneath. The town itself seemed out of place with the old buildings and dirt road. In the distance a massive house sat on the hill.

Joanne: Linda do you realize why I torched the check? See even you didn't earn it. You managed to beat your opponents, and show them u, but I should have made it to the last round. You see I've fought long and hard to get where I am. What have you done lately? You beat Avery and she left. Good for you! I still have my hands on my the Amazon Title and I'm not lettin' it go that easy. I know it will come down to you and I before to long... But I'll be ready anytime that you feel froggy. You said you were goin' to run me out of the company. Think again. I'm not goin' anywhere! I'm not like most people. When I lose I just come back with more force, more strength knowin' that I am goin' to do whatever it takes to win. And this match won't be any different. I'm goin' to fight, and stand my ground, no matter what I have to do to win it. I know you're goin' to fight me with everythin' that you have but do you think it's goin' to be enough to put my partners down, let alone me? I guess we'll have to wait and see now won't we?

She smiles as she continues to drive along the dirt road and soon reaches the manor. It was old and looked run down but it was lit from top to bottom. Joanne soon turns off the car and soon steps out, and walks up the old creaky steps and knocks on the front door. It opens on it's own, and she steps inside as the scene fades to black.


Voice 1: Hahahaha!

Voice 2: It's not funny!

Voice 1: Oh come now Joanne, each of us have different gifts and weaknesses.

The scene opens again, and we see a very decorated study. Long shelves filled with books, and a desk made of what appears to be old cherry wood. The Persian rug in the middle of the room underneath the two chairs that sat in front of the large fireplace was done in a deep red color with golden patterns running through it.

Joanne: I didn’t think I would be powerless against somethin’ so simple.

Seph: You may have kindred blood in you. It could be something to do with your family as well. Or it could be all in your mind.

Joanne: Do you think it could have been blessed?

Seph: Possibly. But then again if it wasn't true faith then it shouldn't have bothered you... Hmmm...

He gets up from where he sits, and paces the floor, as Joanne leans back in the high backed red velour chair.

Seph: Are you sure there is nothing in your family that could have caused it?

Joanne leans forward and thinks for a moment. Her eyes get wide as she gets to her feet.

Joanne: My mother... My mother wore a silver cross. She was devout.

Seph: That's more than likely what it is. But I'll still look into it.

Joanne: Thank you. I better be goin'.

Seph: Nonsense stay here the night. It's getting late.

Joanne: Good point. I guess I'll head up to my room then.

Seph takes her hand and kisses the back of it. A small bit of color comes to her cheeks, before she turns and heads out of the study and she starts down the long hallway toward one of the guest rooms.

Joanne: As for Seiji where did you get your knowledge of the undead? Or was it just a lucky guess? Or have you had experience with Oni and Kuei-jin? You must think you're smart, but I will find a way around it. Thanks to my sire I think I know where the fear comes from, but I'm goin' to work my way trough it, and make sure that you, Albion and Linda don't win this match. I want my revenge on both of them and I will take it no matter what I have to do. I don't know much about you but that doesn't matter to me. All I know is that I will take you down wish to Gawd you were dead. My partners and I will make sure of that. And as for my partners, the Fairtex brothers it will be an honor to work with you. I heard what you had to say about me and I have to admit I'm flattered. This is our chance to put these three down, and show them why we are the best of the best! KGB isn't goin' anywhere, and we will be just as strong, if not stronger in the end. We are the Mafioso and we get paid to kick your ass! See you soon, and good luck, you're goin' to need it!

Joanne smiles softly flashing her fangs as she continues down the hallway and soon opens a door, and walks into a room closing the doors behind her as the scene fades to black.

[Jonnie Valentine]

***Commercial***

[Open on a depressed man who went to bed in his clothes. His eyes open and he just stares into the void]


She left. She took the girls. And you can read her goodbye text however you want, but she doesn't need time to think. She's already moved on. Your friends chose her. Well, except for Ted, but she never liked him anyway. Come to think of it, you never liked Ted. Another day? They're all the same. Waking up isn't like it used to be. It's quieter. No one around to see what you've become. No one around to see...


Breakfast Pizza! 


That's right! "Monsieur Dropkick" Jonnie Valentine's asks you who says pizza is only for lunch or dinner or whatever you call that time at 3 am when you cook an entire pot of spaghetti for yourself?? 


At JonFoods Inc. the people that brought you Brunch Beer, comes Breakfast Pizza! The culinary delight exclusively for the divorced, I mean, newly single man! With the toppings independent guys love like 


"Red Chill Flakes" 


"Velveeta Singles"


"The Bacon That's Supposed To Go On My Salad"


You might not be allowed to go to your favorite pizzeria because she takes Tom and the girls there and it's just best for everyone if you don't upset anyone, but you don't have to miss out on real pizzeria flavor, first thing in the morning!


Breakfast Pizza! 


Look out for JonFoods new upcoming line of Dinner Cereals!! Wherever fine foods are sold! 

[SWAT Team]

(The show returns from commercials featuring promoting French Tourism featuring Team Fairtex and The Hired H=Killers enjoying a romantic time, CSK in an SUV commercial spot, MMA PPV spots, before returning to the arena where ringsiders are shown holding signs that say "CSK all the way!," "Mr. CSK!" "Frenchies love Collin!" and "Bye! Bye! Trentwood!" before fading to the broadcast table where Jeremy Tucker and Andrew Fulton are sitting wearing headsets."

Jeremy Tucker: "Welcome back to Love Hurts in wonderful romantic Paris, France and up now is Christian Sebastian Kennedy continuing his SWAT comeback against Collin Trentwood."

Andrew Fulton: "Another moldy veteran who at least is more credible who will make quick and short work of that idiot Collin Trentwood and he's still going to have enough gas in his tank and plenty of time to deal with that fatso over the hill wannabe babe magnet Rally whatever his alias is lately Jackson."

Jeremy Tucker: "You have a point with the fact that CSK trashed Rally during the lead up to the Royal Rumble and you could literally smell all the potential bad blood ready to be spilled."

Andrew Fulton: "You know what else you could smell."

Jeremy Tucker: "I hate to ask."

Andrew Fulton: "Glad you did. You could also smell Rally passing gas. You could smell the mustiness of his Gi pants from the lockerroom. In fact, the whole SWAT roster could smell Rally's stinkbomb was emitting."

Jeremy Tucker: "I thought that was you. Anyway, CSK has yet to be truly tested in his comeback against Collin Trentwood."

Andrew Fulton: "That's like Satan's Disciples will actually pass a test in the ring without their true brains behind their success Frostbite."

Jeremy Tucker: "They have yet to get their hands on Frostbite just like Rally wants to get his hands on CSK."

Andrew Fulton: "Yeah to eat him and then steal his wallet and take his money and then use it to pay his back child support."

Jeremy Tucker: "So far Collin Trentwood hoping to make his debut a victory against CSK. Right now let's go to the ring for the introductions."

Frank Salazar: "This next match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing presently in the ring first from Madison, Wisconsin. He comes in at 5'11" and weighs in at 206lbs. Please welcome Collin Trentwood."

(Collin Trentwood yells and raises his arms and smiles stupidly.)

Frank Salazar: "Now introducing from Hollywood Hills. He comes in at 6'4" and weighs in at 245lbs. Please welcome Christian Sebastian Kennedy aka CSK."

("Vilify" by Device plays as the lights go out with a spotlight dimming on the center stage. CSK is shown with his back facing everyone and his arms spread out. Black lights are used in the arena until getting into the ring. He turns and dumps a golden chalice filled with some strange liquid on his head. It's called Holy water.)

Jeremy Tucker: "The bell rings and Collin wastes no time going after Christian Sebastian Kennedy. He pummels him with clubbing forearms and stomps before whipping him into the ropes and clotheslines."

Andrew Fulton: "Yeah! Yeah! Ho! Hum!"

Jeremy Tucker: "What do you mean by that?"

Andrew Fulton: "Boring! I should also include Blah! Blah! Yadda! Yadda! Next time."

Jeremy Tucker: "Gimme a break. Trentwood chokes Kennedy on the ropes before rope burning his head along the ropes as the referee warns him to break the hold."

Andrew Fulton: "Yeah Conan the She Barbarian is refereeing this match and she's going to screw it up despite this being a scrub match up. Collin whips CSK into the corner and charges in but is greeted by an elbow to his already goofy face. CSK follows up with a clothesline taking Collin out of his boots. Kennedy opens up a can of whoop ass."

Jeremy Tucker: "Christian stands on Collin's throat and chokes him as the referee warns him and he nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders and breaks the hold. He whips him into the ropes and overhead belly to belly suplex's Trentwood and he hits his head on the canvas. CSK drops a series of vicious elbows before making the cover for a one count."

Andrew Fulton: "Come on CSK just toss him out of the ring like yesterday's trash just like you'll do to Rally and then earn a well earned cheap count out. CSK whips Collin into the corner and he trainwrecks him before returning Collin's early stomps and forearms with kicks and stomps and now Trentwood looks like one of the walking dead."

Jeremy Tucker: "CSK whips Collin into the ropes and powerslams him before mounting and grounding and pounding Trentwood. The referee warns him to get off him and he does before pretending to back off but he suddenly stomps a mud hole into Collin's mid-section."

Andrew Fulton: "I'm surprised CSK didn't pull anything out of Trentwood's mid-section. CSK picks him up and delivers a series of devastating chops and ho hum Collin counters with a series of no sellers and Kennedy is really upset now. CSK just decked him with a hard left and Trentwood looks out of it now."

Jeremy Tucker: "At this point in the match Christian wants to play with Collin now as a message to SWAT that Christian Sebastian Kennedy is back with a vengeance. Rally is probably the recipient of that message though he'll welcome CSK's message."

Andrew Fulton: "Rally's probably too busy eating the whole buffet table including the plates and utensils and even the table to notice. CSK sets Colin up on the top ropes and superplex's Trentwood and makes the cover....One....Two....No! CSK just pulled Trentwood's head up and shakes his head no despite Conan's warning, he obviously wants to torture Colin Trentwood now."

Jeremy Tucker: "I think you're right. CSK suplex's Cllin and T-bone suplex's him hard before whipping him into the ropes and Bubbaslams him and then delivers a series of really vicious kneedrops and goes for the cover again....One...Two....No! He pulls Collin's head up again."

Andrew Fulton: "Looks like he's not ready yet. CSK waits until Colin gets up and he delivers a vicious spear to the now dead corpse Colin Trentwood. CSK goes to the corner and waits before delivering a near unconscious Colin Trentwood before delivering a Superman punch and now he makes the cover finally ending Collin's misery....One....Two....Three."

Frank Salazar: "Your winner at 6minutes 30seconds. Christian Sebastian Kennedy aka CSK."

Jeremy Tucker: "The result was never in doubt as CSK makes quick work of Colin Trentwood who's still looking for his first victory in SWAT. While CSK continues his SWAT comeback."

Andrew Fulton: "I would have called the outcome anyway even when the outcome was never in doubt....Ho! Hum! Blah! Blah! Yadda! Yadda!"

Jeremy Tucker: "Well in any case CSK is letting people know his intentions especially to Rally. Right now we have to cut to commercials but we'll return with more great SWAT action after this."

(The scene slowly fades to commercials.)

[vastrix]

Tarascon, France. Main Street.

Tarrasque and Marcus Anderson walk down the closed street. Decorations abound up and down the street with vendors of all varieties. There are food vendors, merchandise vendors, and a few vendors offering nutritional and exercise advice. At the dead center of town is a large mat and wrestling ring where bruisers from around the world work out and lock horns in the middle of the ring. Tarrasque wannabes. Two muscle bound men grapple in the middle of the ring as Tarrasque looks on in wonder at everything, including the banners at the beginning and end of the street that say “Tarrasque Festival”.

Tarrasque: All this...all this...about me?

Anderson: I suppose so. What do you think, Tarrasque?

Tarrasque looks around at the festivities going on around him like a kid who had just arrived at Disney World for the first time. He looks at the nearest merchandise vendor selling retro toys. Figurines of Tarrasque from his Hardkore America days. One even with the Hardkore American championship belt as an accessory.

Anderson: I wonder what they would think if they knew that the subject of their hero worship is right here, right now.

Tarrasque shrugs his massive shoulders with a half-smile.

Tarrasque: Me no know. Me like this.

Anderson: Alright.

Marcus points to the action figure with the championship belt.

Anderson: How much for this doll?

The vendor glances at the action figure and then at Marcus.

Vendor: Fifty Euros and it’s an action figure.

Marcus blinks at the cost, jerks his thumb at Tarrasque with a smile.

Anderson: He’s just going to play with it. Fifty?

Vendor: Of course! It’s a collector’s it…

The vendor picks up the packaged action figure with wide eyes. He looks at Tarrasque and then looks at the action figure. Back and forth a few times before he makes the connection in his head.

Vendor: Is that? Is he? The Tarrasque here in person? If he can sign another copy of that I have here, he can have this one for free!

Anderson: Tarrasque? Would you like to try to sign one of these action figures for the nice man?

Tarrasque: Me real name?

Marcus places a hand on Tarrasque’s shoulder with a smile, knowing that this is a sore point for Tarrasque as he doesn’t know his own real name.

Anderson: He wants your wrestler name, Tarrasque. Can you spell that?

Tarrasque nods his head with a goofy grin.

Tarrasque: Me can.

Tarrasque signs five of the action figures for the overly excited vendor who can now raise the prices tenfold for the signed items. As he announces the special sale, people stream to the booth to buy the items and gawk at Tarrasque, who holds his new toy with both hands.

What follows next is a chaotic mix of French, English, and a smattering of other languages as people talk to both Tarrasque and Marcus Anderson. They want to know how he wrestles. They want to know how he feels about wrestling his one time boss for the SWAT World title. They want to touch him, smell him, and know him as the legendary wrestler that he is.

Eventually the town Mayor, Sylvia Bettencourt, comes to the rescue. He gets everyone away from Tarrasque and Marcus and apologizes profusely.

Bettencourt: How long has it been since you been home, Tarrasque?

Tarrasque looks at the man like he’s grown a new head out of his neck.

Tarrasque: Home? Me?

Bettencourt: Yes! Yes! Home! We’ve enshrined your family home that you were taken from. People pay to take a tour through the home that built the majestic monster known as Tarrasque.

Anderson: You hear that, Tarrasque? You want to see your house? Can we tour the place? We can pay.

Mayor Bettencourt waves Marcus off with a laugh.

Bettencourt: Your money is no good here, my friends! Let’s look at the house, take a tour, and see about getting some food. We know about the voracious appetite of the beast of legend!

Tarrasque’s eyes go wide. Now, they are speaking his language.

Tarrasque: Sound good!

They begin walking the few blocks, all blocked off, to the house that built Tarrasque.

Bettencourt: So, you think you going to claim the SWAT World title from Jonnie Valentine?

Tarrasque: Me will. Me am strong!

Anderson: What Tarrasque means is that he’s watched all of Valentine’s past matches and is certain that he’s going to win the day.

Bettencourt: Ah, the interpreter. Are you Mr. Fuji?

Anderson: Who?

Bettencourt: No wait, I see the resemblance. You’re Anderson’s boy!

Anderson: I am indeed. I’ve taken over management duties.

Bettencourt: And Warhammer duties? You pick up those too?

Marcus is silent for a long time before answering.

Anderson: Some.

Bettencourt: Understood. We have our own dark secrets here too.

Anderson: Dark secrets? At this sleepy little village?

Before the Mayor can answer, they arrive at the house. A little two story house with a white picket fence. There’s a line of people standing at least two blocks out to get in to see the place and take the tour. The Mayor leads Tarrasque and Marcus past the line and straight into the house.

Bettencourt: This was the family room where the kidnappers burst in and killed the father.

Tarrasque looks around the room, nodding, but not really seeing. He sees the room as it was many years before. With his father in the middle of the room, blood pooling around his still warm corpse. He looks around with a frown, the walls were a different color then. Someone could have painted after all these years? He mumbles so that only Marcus can hear him.

Tarrasque: Wall color. Wrong.

Anderson: Did they keep the details of the house the exact same since the kidnapping? Just cleaning up the place?

Mayor Bettencourt looks around with a little bit of confusion.

Bettencourt: Exactly the same down to the detail.

Anderson: I see. Anywhere else you want to see, Tarrasque?

Tarrasque looks off into space, breathing in deep.

Tarrasque: Bedroom. Mine.

Anderson: Can we see where Tarrasque’s bedroom was?

Bettencourt: Yep.

The three go upstairs, avoiding the tour going through the main room that all gawk at Tarrasque as he walks up the stairs.

Tarrasque walks first into the bedroom. A twin sized bed that was the perfect size for a twelve year old Tarrasque. Wrestling action figures that Tarrasque had played with when he was a child.

Tarrasque freezes in his tracks. These toys were wrong. He was playing with Roscoe Law and Matthew X from the CWF line of action figures. The rivals turned tag team partners. These were not the toys that were his. They were the same, but from the Hardkore World line many years later while Tarrasque himself was in the ring.

This was wrong. This place is wrong.

Tarrasque clenches and unclenches his hands while gritting his teeth. Mayor Bettencourt looks at him in some concern and no little worry.

Bettencourt: Is he alright?

Anderson: I’m going to go out on a limb here and say no.

Tarrasque comes back into focus and looks around. His face twists up in anger.

Tarrasque: This not home. THIS NOT HOME!

Tarrasque grabs the side of the bed and flips the entire thing over. He picks up the bedside table, knocking down the lamp, and throws the thing against the wall where it shatters.

Tarrasque: THIS NOT HOME! THIS! NOT! HOME!

What follows is a whirlwind of destruction as Tarrasque tears through each room, terrifying tourists. He stops in the garage where he grabs a match and a can of gasoline. He walks through the house while pouring gasoline as Mayor Bettencourt follows behind while weakly protesting and Anderson happily helps in the destruction and escorting frightened tourists away. Tarrasque leaves a trail of fuel out of the house.

Bettencourt: What are you doing? Stop! Please, stop!

Tarrasque looks at the outside of the house with a smile, lighting the match against the stubble on his jaw, and throwing the match to the trail of gasoline. It quickly lights, the fire leading to inside the house to where Tarrasque had left a trail of gasoline through the house.

The Mayor screams in French, causing the tourists to run away while screaming as the house that did not build Tarrasque goes up in flames.

Anderson: So, Warhammer owns this town. Doesn’t it? Built this place as a tourist trap to convince Tarrasque that this is where he came from? I didn’t look at the records from Hardkore World. That’s why Tuxedo Mask knew where he was from.

Bettencourt: I...yeah. That’s all true. Oh, I’m so ruined!

Anderson: It’s fine. I’m sure this can be rebuilt. The tourists won’t know the difference.

Tarrasque stands outside of the house, watching it burn with a smile on his face.

Tarrasque: This not home…

[Phoenix Roost]

[The scene opens on Seiji Shimuzu as he sits in his dressing room. He’s sitting in a chair and staring down at the strange metal wand that Albion handed him last month. Since he is sitting there doing nothing but looking at it, and not at all because it appeared in the show unexpectedly, it would do well to describe it in more detail than just “strange wand.”

It may have looked silver in the bright lights of the arena, but in the harsh fluorescent light of the dressing room, it has a little less luster. Perhaps a dull silver, maybe a gunmetal gray, it’s hard to say. But as he turns it over and twists it in his hands, we can see several more details than we could before. It is not a simple, featureless dowel, but with several intricately carved designs along the shaft, some directly carved into it while others are carved into several metal rings of the same silver gray that are affixed to the shaft, a wide band that serves as the pommel, a finger-width band about halfway up, and a pair of half-finger width bands that wrap around the base and the rim of a bowl shape that serves as the setting for a many-faceted red crystal. There is a further, even thinner band that wraps around the crystal itself, though it does not touch; rather, it wraps around the widest part of the crystal by serving as an ornamentation around the angled, flaring tines that extend up from the rim of the bowl, bend outward around the crystal’s center, and then tuck back inward to secure it in place, not unlike great prongs on an oversized diamond ring.

As he studies it, Albion walks into the room, visible over his shoulder as the camera is angled in front of him, with the wand between it and him. Seiji does not look away, but he does acknowledge Albion’s presence.]

Seiji: I’ll be straight with you; I have no fucking idea what happened at the end of No Man’s Land.

[Albion responds by pulling up a chair next to him and looking intently at the wand as well; her expression shows more confusion, whereas Seiji’s is one of intense concentration.]

Albion: I knew it was mystical and mysterious, but I didn’t think it had vampire repellent properties. Did you accidentally press the actuator when you were rushing down the ramp?

[Seiji turns the wand over to look at a portion of the shaft that has such a volume of intricate radial designs woven into it that it appears embossed slightly above the surrounding metal. It is just about the right size to fit an adult’s thumb. Seiji furrows his brow.]

Seiji: I don’t remember doing it, but maybe.

[Albion ponders this for a moment, rubbing her chin with her forefinger and thumb.]

Albion: It is just possible that you let a bit of the energy out, and it reacted badly with her undead nature. Or maybe you did nothing and she was just scared of it, as she said.

Seiji: She doesn’t strike me as the sort of person to be scared of something at first glance.

Albion: Nor me. But if her instinctual reaction was that strong, we can’t ignore it.

[Albion reaches out for the wand and Seiji hands it to her wordlessly. She takes a turn fiddling with it, brow furrowed as she studies it.]

Albion: What other strange powers are hidden within?

[Seiji rolls his eyes a bit, then chuckles dryly.]

Seiji: I don’t suppose the ancient ruin you dug it out of had an instruction manual hidden nearby.

[Albion seems to take this joke a little more seriously than Seiji expects, which makes him even more confused.]

Albion: Sadly no, though in the intervening years, I’ve found a little out about it, with help. You see these bands?

[Albion points to the two bands at the base/rim of the concave housing in which the crystal sets. Seiji raises an eyebrow.]

Seiji: ...yeah...? What about them.

Albion: Well they twist around to different settings.

[Albion demonstrates. There are tiny clicking noises as the bands shift, but after a second or two of this, she twists them back, evidently resetting them to where they had been a moment ago.]

Albion: The only one I have any detailed info on is this setting, because this is the one I was going to help Kaji with. I have no idea what the rest do, so if I ask you to hold on to this again, keep that in mind so you’ll be more careful.

Seiji: Will do.

[Albion pockets the strange device and stands up.]

Albion: So. Six-person tag match.

Seiji: Yeah, and we’ve got some real intellectual powerhouses to go up against.

[The sarcasm in Seiji’s voice is quite apparent, but in case anyone missed it, he rolls his eyes as visibly and as dramatically as he can.]

Albion: I don’t envy your existence. Do people fuck up your name a lot?

Seiji: Pretty frequently, but never quite so badly. The first few times the Fairtex boys tried to refer to me, I thought they were talking about my trainer. Wondered how they both figured out who he was and also fucked up his name before I realized they cared so little about who I was that they had fucked my name up worse than if they’d Google Translated it back and forth all week. Maybe they were going for last name, but “Isuzu” and “Shimuzu” only share one syllable. If they were trying to call me Isamu, they’d at least have elements of it in every syllable.

Albion: I wouldn’t dwell on it too much. We can’t expect linguistic competence from a team that thinks we’d fall for the “Oh we were just welcoming them to the fed” gambit, which is thinner than any shouji.

Seiji: Nice.

[For reference, an image of a traditional sliding door that you might see in old-timey Japanese establishments, or more likely, an anime, pops up in the corner of the screen. Then it fades when Albion continues.]

Albion: Do all the newcomers to SWAT get welcomed so warmly? By burning a novelty cheque and bringing a group of five to ambush two wrestlers worn out after an instant classic? And even doing that, you couldn’t finish the job, because Linda and I still had enough fight left in us to hold you off until reinforcements could arrive. I’d say your wills are collectively about as thick as those same shouji.

Now as flattered as I was to be compared to Buffy, I have to admit that I was not doing an act. If I were, I think I would have been more blustering and proactive about finding Joanne, when in reality I am not able to just go out and kill people, no matter how much damage they do to the world.

Seiji: For what it’s worth, I did look into getting a big red hat like out of Hellsing Ultimate, but I couldn’t get one before we had to fly out here.

Albion: Seiji, you know that hat is Alucard’s, not Hellsing’s, right?

Seiji: Look, it would get the point across.

Albion: You’d think so, but Team Fairtex is so simple that they can’t figure out that they are facing three people who have met, albeit briefly, and the two of us have been a team for a while. But apparently....hang on, what was it? I quote, You see they're facing a group and not three individuals who haven't even met each other. I guess their point is that they are a unified group and we’re just three schlubs they found on the street.

Seiji: Wait, we’ve never met? Hang on, we should introduce ourselves.

Albion: We can handle that later. First, let’s make this clear. Team Fairtex, you do not scare us. If you get in my way, I will fight you, but at the end of the day, this is about Joanne to me. I could not give less of a shit about her SWAT Amazon’s Title. Any energy she focuses on me is energy she’s not using to ruin more innocent lives.

Seiji: Before you address Linda, let me say one thing. I wanted to address something said last month by Sir Chokes-a-Lot. He did that thing where he tried to insult me by insinuating that I was more interested in Albion’s tournament performance than my chances in the Rumble. It is my great shame to say that he was right, and I was more invested in Albion’s tournament run.

I do not consider this as an insult, however. I am not too big a man to recognize my superior. Though she is younger, she has accomplished more than many wrestlers do in their entire careers in such a short time. I will learn all I can from her, but more importantly, her adherence to her principles is something I admire, and I will support her as best I can. And if that means whipping a set of twins around while she takes care of business, then that’s what I’m going to do. Maybe after they get a look at me up close, they’ll remember the name.

Albion: Lastly, I just want to say that I do want to add my congratulations on to the thousands of messages to this effect that Linda has gotten over the last month. She took me to the limit, and she did it without having to resort to any of the dumb bullshit that Jade or Joanne tried. She earned my respect, and I will gladly have her back in this fight against some common thugs. If they think I’m going to be pushed around, well they should look at my history and see how that went. And if they’re too lazy to do that, which I’m just going to assume they are since they can’t even learn my tag team partner’s name...well, I guess they can just find out in the ring later.

[Albion and Seiji smile at the camera for a moment, then go back to studying the wand-like device until after the camera cuts away.]

[edwarddubin0604]

(Team Fairtex just passed by a monitor and stopped to look at the promo that Albion and Seiji Shimuzu just did and they smile and clap as if they are impressed but in reality the opposite is true since their expressions are sarcastic as they face the camera.)

Tong Fairtex: "Isn't it funny that the wannabe Harry Potters claim to have found that piece of junk they call a magic wand. You know where they really found it."

Phantam Fairtex: "They stole it from Psychotic Goth and Vampira and then made up that great dig up story for a goofy adventure novel which they'll try and pass off as real life events."

Tong Fairtex: "Looks like great intellectual minds do think a like don't they Isuzu....Oh wait wasn't that Seiji's trainer."

Phantam Fairtex: "Yeah he did say that didn't he. Yet we were referring to someone else like a certain spokesman from a certain Japanese car brand from years ago and I bet you know it or you probably need Google to look up the reference. Imagine he didn't catch on did he. The shame and dishonor he must be feeling due to his supposed intellect."

Tong Fairtex: "Now to address your little comment about not being scared. Let us tell you something Albi we're not scared of you either and vice versa which is probably you trying to be ballsy and brave in the face of incredible odds. Yeah we used that old tired cliché to describe your spot and if you think the insults aren't of your liking. You may be hearing worse but hey don't take our word for it. You'll find out either way and you'll see what we're saying was the truth."

Phantam Fairtex: "Oh you definitely will oh great amine and manga brains. Now you're talking about Linda's accomplishments it's obvious you weren't here long enough. You see 'Lucky' Linda La fey, your great superior woman, just got...How can I say it got her best luck. We'll be glad to tell you two intellects. You see the woman you most likely admire won a suitcase that was held by former SWAT Amazons CEO Angela in a steel cage match."

Tong Fairtex: "Not that she wanted it anyway but the original owner was fired for being a fuckin whiner who thought she was supposed to be the winner. Anyway, she just picked Linda out the field of women who truly deserved it at the time and yeah Linda won and went on to beat that sellout whore Suzi Spitz. Guess what happened after that Albi."

Phantam Fairtex: "Oh you're going to enjoy this but hey you'll never believe us and if you ask Linda she'll begiving you a whole lat of bull shit blarney. Now on to our little story about your honorably principled Linda La Fey. After she dropped the title she went downhill and she even got her ass whooped by her former tag team partner Avery McCullen before running her out of SWAT forever and then went on another losing streak until beating The Great Albi or the cursed $2,000,000."

Tong Fairtex: "Now you asked if we welcome everyone the same way we welcomed you. Let's just say that Linda's the reason we weren't so cordial towards you and let's tell you a story about our former ally Psychotic Goth. There was this wrestler named Little Dragon and he was a newcomer whowanted to become friends with a bunch of losers led by Industrial Man and the now fired Beelzebozo. Yeah what a welcoming committee they were. Well those two pieces of trash are gone and yes tey were fired not run out by the KGB."

Phantam Fairtex: "Now you claimed that you couldn't care less about the SWAT Pan Amazons Title. We both know that's bullshit since you'll be jumping over everyone else including your great friend 'Lucky' Linda La Fey and you claim you could care less about Don Joanne Canelli's title. Tell us another story and we'll still won't believe you either."

Tong Fairtex: "Now you call the KGB common thugs, but ask yourself who common thugs really are. How about The New Society of the New Breed and them strutting around SWAT acting like they own the place. You see Jonnie Valentine acting like a whore wearing a once prestigious belt now made worthless due to his pathetic shill job and stupid television appearances."

Phantam Fairtex: "Oh and then there's %110 Syberus renaming the former SWAT Hardcore Title to the International Belt and before that the more sensible 'Timeless' Alex Turner renamed it The technical Title. So before you even call the KGB a bunch of thugs ask the roster about all those ironic jackasses who aren't KGB about The New Society of the New Breed's antics. Hell you can see them make fools out of themselves on television."

Tong Fairtex: "Then again don't take our word for it. I mean we're KGB and you won't believe us anyway. We'll let you see for yourself and you can see we were right after all. Now you think you're going to go out and do harm to Don Joanne Canelli by dressing up lie Van Helsing including the hat or play exorcist or whatever you plan on dreaming up. Well think again. Think again and you'll see that KGB helps each other out and by the way we're one whole unit and we plan to show you why we are. In a matter of moments you'll see what you're going to get yourself into."

Phantam Fairtex: "So prepare yourselves since no spell in the world is going to save you and not even your stolen wand from Psychotic Goth can save you. Nobody shall save your asses from our wrath and when the bel rings to end the match. We'll be the ones with our hands raised and you'll see The KGB shall be left standing soaking in the boos and loving it as well. Then again we'll let you find out for yourself."

Tong Fairtex: "For now we'll let it stand at that and you'll see KGB runs things and we'll dominate from opening bell to the closing bell and our hands are raised. So enjoy your Harry and Buffy Van Helsing act. Yeah your bad magic wand act is just as bad as your accusing us of making excuses for welcoming you. However, in a matter of moments we'll step through the ropes and show you what we can do. The we'll see who's the better six-man combination and you'll see our unity up close and personal. Then you'll wishing that you had been more cordial of our welcoming you to SWAT. For now we're out of here."

Phantam Fairtex: "I'm with you bro."

(They leave as the scene slowly fades to black.)

[Jonnie Valentine]

[Open on Échange, a French political roundtable show. SWAT World Heavyweight Champion "Monsieur Dropkick" Jonnie Valentine is seated with 110% Syberus. His SWAT World Heavyweight Championship is up on the desk, between Jonnie's two microphones. Host Paul Louis Courier sits in the center, flanked by guests Régis Messac and Jeanne Nardal] 

Paul Louis Courier: Bonjour, et bienvenue à Échange. Ce soir nous sommes rejoints par Régis Messac
Hello, and welcome to Échange. Tonight we are joined by Régis Messac


Régis Messac: Bonjour.


Paul Louis Courier: Jeanne Nardal


Jeanne Nardal: Merci de me recevoir.
Thank you for having me. 


Paul Louis Courier: Et l'analyste politique américain, "Monsieur Dropkick" Jonnie Valentine avec son interprète, 110% Syberus.
And American political analyst, "Monsieur Dropkick" Jonnie Valentine with his interpreter, 110% Syberus. 


"Monsieur Dropkick: Jonnie Valentine: Thank you, I don't speak any French. (to Syberus) What is this show? 


110% Syberus: Again, my French is rusty but I was able to book us on the top French wrestling talk show. 


Jonnie Valentine: That's amazing. I can't thank you enough. 


Paul Louis Courier: Would you like a cigarette? 


Jonnie Valentine: I would! 


110% Syberus: Me too. In fact, give me two. 


Jonnie Valentine: What are you doing? 


110% Syberus: I do everything, 110%.


[Paul Louis Courier, Régis Messac, and Jeanne Nardal and Jonnie light up their cigarettes. Syberus lights up his two cigarettes]


110% Syberus: (hacks and coughs) 


Paul Louis Courier: La France a averti la Grande-Bretagne de s'attendre à une bataille meurtrière avec l'UE dans les négociations commerciales post-Brexit. Quels types d'ondulations affecteront le commerce français?
France has warned Britain to expect a bruising battle with the EU in post-Brexit trade negotiations. What kind of ripple effects will effect French trade?

Régis Messac: Ce qui me paraît intéressant, c’est que le diplomate en chef de la France a mis l’accent sur la question de la pêche, sujet sur lequel il a récemment averti que les Français «ne transigeraient pas.
What I think is interesting is that France’s chief diplomat singled out the issue of fishing, a subject on which he warned recently that the French “would not compromise”. 


Jeanne Nardal: Oui, et pourtant le gouvernement britannique a déclaré vouloir un accord basé sur une "coopération amicale entre égaux souverains".
Yes, and yet the UK government said it wanted a deal based on "friendly co-operation between sovereign equals".


Paul Louis Courier: C'est devenu un problème insoluble. Jonnie Valentine, que pensez-vous du rôle de la France dans le Brexit?It has become an intractable problem.
Jonnie Valentine, what is your opinion on France's role in Brexit? 


[The show screeches to a halt as Jonnie Valentine looks to 110% Syberus who is looking up the translation on Google Translate. The studio is eerily quiet]


110% Syberus: Ah, they're asking about my SWAT International title match. 


Jonnie Valentine: Oh, right to it I guess. I...


(A server comes and hands Jonnie and 110% Syberus glasses of red wine)


Jonnie Valentine: Oh, (to Syberus) What's thank you?


110% Syberus: Bonjour. 


Jonnie Valentine: Oh, right. Bonjour. (to panel) But to your question Paul. My man Syberus only has one problem that night. He has too many asses to kick. Me? I would be scared, Trent Jones, Mr Pepperones, he is every wrestling stereotype rolled into one, walking in enough denim to clothe OzzFest. He may not want anyone to know where he's from, but I can smell the Arizona from here. He looks like a diabetic Justin Credible with less judgement. By the looks of what he does in his off time, the small consolation will be when we read on our phones that he choked on his own vomit in his ex-wife's guest house. 


110% Syberus: I'll be fine.


Jonnie Valentine: Speaking of Wellness Violations, we got Eddie D. What if he wins? He'll immediately fail an HGH test and we'll be back to doing a tournament. Audiences can't handle tourneys these days! 


110% Syberus: Why is Greg helping him? 


Jonnie Valentine: Greg's got a big heart. He works with the severely, severely mentally disabled. I mean, you have got to see some of these guys. He tried to...wait, can they understand me?


[Jonnie looks back at the confused panel]


Régis Messac: Yes.


110% Syberus: They have no clue. 


Jonnie Valentine: Good. So Greg tried to get me to do some of these events where I visit hospitals and I just couldn't do it. 


110% Syberus: Did you send Mike Enos?


Jonnie Valentine: You know it! Anyway, Greg loves these muttonheads, and he must be looking to help Eddie D learn to read or take his pants off before he takes a shit. 


110% Syberus: Greg's the best. 


Jonnie Valentine: He really is. It's hard to believe sometimes. 


Jeanne Nardal: Récemment, le président Emmanuel Macron a choisi son ministre de la Santé très respecté pour relancer une campagne pour gagner la mairie de Paris qui s'est effondrée lorsque son précédent candidat s'est retiré d'un scandale de sextos. Croyez-vous qu'une telle chose provoquerait une ondulation dans le climat politique américain actuel?
Recently, President Emmanuel Macron picked his widely respected health minister to reinvigorate a campaign to win over Paris City Hall that fell apart when his previous candidate pulled out over a sexting scandal. Do you believe such a thing would cause a ripple in today's US political climate?


[Jonnie nods, while 110% Syberus types it into Google Translate]


110% Syberus: Ah, she wants to know the deal with Rally Jackson. 


Jonnie Valentine: SWAT security are in the Colin Trentwood echelon of effectiveness. In fact, I think I saw Colin break up backstage fights like 6 months ago. It seems I can't win a match without having entire stables run down and bum out people who wanted to listen to my theme song. I needed a bodyguard. Someone who has trained in mixed martial arts. A multiple time Hardkore World Champion. Someone who is sworn to protect me every minute of the day. A man who has taken an oath to never leave my side. 


Régis Messac: And where is this Raleigh Jacksone? 


Jonnie Valentine: (puts mouth into microphone) He wanted to see the new Jumanji movie in French. 


Paul Louis Courier: La France appelle le président Donald Trump à ne pas interrompre le soutien militaire américain aux forces françaises combattant les militants islamistes en Afrique, avertissant que cela pourrait saper les efforts visant à contrer une menace terroriste croissante dans la région du Sahel. Quel effet, le cas échéant, pensez-vous que cela aura dans la prise de décision du président Trump?
France is appealing to President Donald Trump not to cut off U.S. military support to French forces fighting Islamist militants in Africa, warning that it could undermine efforts to counter a growing terrorist threat in the Sahel region. What, if any effect, do you think this will have in President Trump's decision making?


[Jonnie nods and smiles while Syberus types it into Google Translate]


Jonnie Valentine: (through his teeth) Anything?


110% Syberus: Sorry, got it. He wants to know about Tarrasque, mate. 


Jonnie Valentine: Paul, you are grilling me here! Look, I had to send alot of checks to alot of enhancement talent's lawyers over what Tarrasque does to people in a wrestling ring. I hoped to go my entire life without wrestling him, because wrestling is the last thing you do with him. He's an animal that you can't reason with. You can't reason with him because he's a thing. He's not an opponent to best, he's a beast to put down. The Anderson family has used this thing to carry out their sick fantasies for decades. They don't love wrestling. They use wrestling because it's natural chaotic state somehow sanctions their depravity. I'm as much a part of this as anyone else, probably the most so. I need to save wrestling from the Andersons. I need to save wrestling from Tarrasque. I need to take Tarrasque down to the lake and tell him about the rabbits. So that he doesn't hurt anyone else. It's my obligation as top guy. It's my obligation as SWAT World Heavyweight Champion. And it's my obligation to the younger generation so they don't have to learn the counter to a bomblet belly to belly suplex. 


110% Syberus: Beg your pardon?


Jonnie Valentine: He'll get it. 


Paul Louis Courier: Je pense qu'il y a peut-être eu un problème ici, monsieur Valentine. C'est un spectacle politique?
I think there may have been a problem here, Mister Valentine. This is a political show?


[Jonnie nods emphatically while Syberus types it into Google Translate]


110% Syberus: He thanks us for coming and hopes everyone buys Breakfast Pizza. 


Jonnie Valentine: You and me both, sir. Or monsieur as it were. I had to buy out a Malaysian company that had supplied the military junta's prison kitchens. I am leveraged to my ears right now, so that is very kind of you to say. 


110% Syberus: Yeah, cheers. 


Paul Louis Courier: Oui, merci, Monsieur Valentine. À venir, à cinq semaines des élections municipales cruciales en France, avec des grèves, des manifestations et des tensions accrues mettant le président Emmanuel Macron et son parti à la défense, la nouvelle saison d'un thriller politique à succès a des téléspectateurs et des électeurs au bord de leur des places. Nous vous dirons lequel et discuterons après cette pause.
Yes, thank you Monsieur Valentine. Coming up, Five weeks ahead of crucial municipal elections in France, with strikes, demonstrations and heightened tensions putting President Emmanuel Macron and his party on the defense, the new season of a hit political thriller TV series has viewers and voters on the edge of their seats. We'll tell you which one, and discuss after this break.

[thejerseydevildiva]

A few words

The scene opens on the beautiful city of Paris France. The night had come on fast and the Eiffel Tower was lit from top to bottom. The Arc de Triomphe seemed to glow from the spot lights that sat at the bottom of the arch.  The smells from the local restaurants drifted on the air, mixing with the burnt diesel and gasoline from the cars that passed through the crowded streets. The sounds of traffic echoed in the night, as the lights on the river glistened and cast their reflections back to those that walked along the river. The camera moves to the arena where we see a full parking lot, and spotlights moving back and forth over the arena. The camera moves to the interior where we see stage hands rushing this way and that, as the show went on. We soon see a familiar face moving through the hallway. It was Joanne Canelli. She carried the Amazon Title over her shoulder, as Reno and Rude followed behind. They round the corner and run into Glenda. She smiles as Joanne stops in her tracks, but turns to the guys and whispers something to them. They both walk off leaving Joanne alone once again.

GG: Miss Canelli it's such a pleasure to see you tonight!

Joanne: I bet... I mean thank you Glenda. What can I help you with?

GG: I was wondering if I could get a few words about your match tonight? There's been a lot said and...

Joanne laughs as she nods adjusting the title on her shoulder.

Joanne: Sure thin'. So what do you want to know?

GG: What do you think your chances are tonight?

Joanne: Really? Do you have to ask that question? I mean look at who my partners are. I have to admit I respect the Fairtax brothers if nothing else. They have defended not only myself but KGB as well. Those are the kind of people I need at my side. I need people that I can trust in matches like this. As for our opponents Linda had a lot to say but once again she has shown why she isn't the Amazon Champion any longer and never will be again. Albion has no idea what she is in for. She got lucky and pulled the win over me, but not this time. And Seiji...

Joanne's eyes flash red before turning back to their normal color.

GG: Are you worried about what he might have planned tonight?

Joanne: I'm not to worried. I have people watchin' my back and I know that he won't have a chance to use anythin' against me. He can try to stop me but its not goin' to work.

GG: Is that a challenge to your opponents for tonight?

Joanne: Yeah, I guess it is. They can come at us with everthin' that they have but it's not goin' to be enough. We won't back down, let alone stop when the bell sounds. We will leave nothin' but their bloodied corpses in the middle of the ring. They can try to fight us, but how long will they last? Do they really think they can stand against all of us? We are KGB and we will not stop until we are the last one's standin'! Linda, Albion, Seiji brin' everythin' that you have into the middle of the ring and show us why we should let you walk away in one piece. Is there anythin' else you want to know Glenda?

GG: What about your partners?

Joanne: What about them They've already proven that they are meant to be a part of the KGB. They came to my assistance and I have to admit I can't wait for this match. Now if you excuse me I have to go and speak with my partners.

GG: Of course. Good luck tonight.

Joanne smiles.

Joanne: We won't need it, but our opponents will.

She turns and walks off leaving Glenda alone once again, as the scene fades to black.

[anthonycaffrey]

As the camera begins to film, the first thing the viewer sees is the Eiffel Tower in the background of the shot. It is fairly far away, looking much smaller than one would expect. The camera then zooms out to reveal Anthony Caffrey sipping on a glass of red wine in the middle of the afternoon. He looks out over the balcony of the apartment he’s staying in. The wind blows against his dark leather jacket as he speaks.

“Let’s talk about perspective.”

Caffrey points down to street level as the camera follows his finger. It’s hard to tell what Caffrey is pointing at until the shot pans vertically, capturing small handfuls of people holding their arms out comedically and making rather awkward-looking poses. A few of them try to dramatically lean, but the most overwhelmingly popular pose is people looking like they’re trying to push over the Eiffel Tower.

“Siri, how tall is the Eiffel Tower?”

He holds out his iPhone and looks down at it, seemingly genuinely curious about the answer.

“The Eiffel Tower is 984 feet tall.”

“Thanks Siri.”

Caffrey’s gratitude towards his longest friend naturally comes out of his lips, as if it isn’t weird to be thanking a smartphone feature.

“Now look at ‘em all down there. 984 feet. That’s about fourteen White Houses tall. Now obviously, we all know that these men and women making absolute buffoons out of themselves down there can’t push over the Eiffel Tower."

Caffrey turns to address the camera for the first time. He brings out his hands, indicating that there’s something more to the picture.

“Stay with me here. I’m gonna pull your head out of your ass, but it takes time.”

A small grin appears on Caffrey’s face as he pulls something up. The picture is of Caffrey making the same pose he made fun of the tourists for, him leaning out and seemingly trying to push over the Eiffel Tower.

“When you look at it from this angle, though… doesn’t it look kinda doable? Like if I just got a running start, it looks like that giant ugly ass hunk of metal would just come crashing to the ground. But we know that won’t happen.”

Caffrey stops himself, rolling his eyes. He does his best mocking French accent.

“How dare you insult ze Eiffel Towah! It is zo romantic!"

His accent ends up coming a little bit closer to Zainovic’s accent than a proper Frenchman, but that doesn’t phase him as he transitions back to American English.

“No, no it isn’t. It’s a giant piece of metal. Are you going to tell me the Washington Monument looks romantic next? I mean… yeah the monument kinda looks like a giant dick, but---”

Caffrey pauses, unable to hold back a laugh. He curses under his breath for not being able to keep a straight face.

“---no. You’ve been sold on it being romantic, and you’ve never questioned that perspective. You’ve heard of the old movies where the couple flies away on a romantic getaway to get lost in the City of Lights. You’ve seen the Instagram stories where a cute couple writes their name on a lock and puts the lock on a bridge a few miles from here.”

He looks down, rubbing his chin for a few seconds.

“Y’know, my name’s on one of those locks…”

He trails off for a few seconds, letting his mind take him on a journey back to a different, happier time and to derail what he was talking about. He snaps back to reality.

"But when you get a fresh perspective, the thought disappears. It becomes obvious that it’s all just an illusion. The manners of most Parisians make me look like a nice guy by comparison. The French are ugly. Their underground metro somehow smells worse than New York’s. And the Mona Lisa? More overrated than Valentine.”

Caffrey does his best to glance over how pigheaded the Internet truly can be to keep ripping apart Paris. The look on his face reveals a miserable American who would like nothing more than to be back home.

“And that bridge? A few years ago they started cutting the locks off. This illusion of the most romantic place in the world is all bullshit, and for over $300, you too can fly over and have your dea of Paris forever ruined by the change in perspective!”

Caffrey nods and smiles his sinister smile, having proven his point. He holds the picture of him pushing the Eiffel Tower back up to the camera.

“When I came to Network, it was very similar to my SWAT debut. I came in and ran down some of the biggest and brightest stars before I had even had a singles match. And so of course, some smarmy executives had a bright idea: let’s put him against the #1 wrestler in the company, and let’s have Anomoly crush him.”

He eases up on the intensity of the story he’s telling.

“Now granted, Anomoly was a fading star. The guy couldn’t even spell his own name right. But he had the most wins in the history of the company, so he was declared The Best. You know what happened? I made him tap… to a full nelson. We’re in the land of baguettes, but this guy tapped out before I could even properly lock on my bread and butter.”

Caffrey rapidly taps against the back of the phone.

“I told everyone I would make him tap. I told everyone that the game had changed, that there was a new #1. They had preliminary ranked me at #17 and I took that as the highest insult. I haven’t looked at where the SWAT pencil-pushers have slotted, but I can guarantee you that if it’s not at the top of the food chain, it’s wrong. I am the king of the jungle, just simply in new territory. Hear me roar.”

Caffrey smirks.

“Of course I’m not going to roar, that’s Psychotic Goth’s bit. Everyone thought I was just an asshole for stone-cold lead-pipe locking in Valentine as the victor of that match, but that’s because they don’t have the perspective that I do. I see talent, I know talent, I am talented.”

He retracts the phone, looking back over at the real Eiffel Tower.

“Timeless said before New Year’s Nightmare that the KGB was still running stronger than ever. And well… look at ‘em. A bunch of untalented jackasses lesser known as the Kross Global Bandits. Hell, even if they called themselves the Global Bandits, that would have been something. Soutter, Timeless, the asswipe Fairtex boys, and Canelli. Canelli’s carrying the whole fuckin’ group. It’s hard to have a dick-measuring contest with you boys when the KGB member with the biggest balls literally doesn’t have any.”

Caffrey takes a half bow, crediting himself for the wordplay.

“I watched your little War Games match. Where were you when the bell rang and the match ended? Oh, that’s right --- you were mostly a non-factor. Psychotic Goth turned your lights out with two knees to your face, and you only woke up after Frostbite pulled a Benedict Arnold and screwed over his own team. So congratulations, Timeless, on getting carried in what was essentially a 6-on-4. The KGB may very well be running stronger than ever, but that’s no thanks to you.”

The spite and viciousness in Caffrey’s words continues to build.

“Funny, Timeless. Ever since this match got announced, I’ve been waiting. I’ve been waiting for you to say a single damn thing about me. But nope, the Timeless camp has been quiet. At first I figured you realized what you had done, screwing me out of my chance to win the World Championship, and you had hit the gym out of the fear of being torn apart to the point you never walk properly again.”

Caffrey sighs, shaking his head.

“Instead, I imagine you’re somewhere out there catering to all of the vices that have led to your downfall, Timeless. You used to be a champion, you used to be someone that SWAT would market their show around! When people told of what was going on in SWAT, Now? Now you’re being carted out here as the welcome wagon for the pissy, overaggressive former and future world champion to decimate. Are you blind to all of this, or do you know? Do you keep your head up your ass permanently stored up your ass like the Fairtex boys, or are you aware of what’s going on? And if you somehow do have that perspective -- which to be honest, I doubt you’ve grasped how far you’ve fallen -- aren’t you ashamed of it?”

Caffrey keeps wondering aloud.

“Aren’t you ashamed of your fall? Aren’t you ashamed of once being a formidable contender and now being treated as… God, I don’t even know if you’re the third best member of your group? Canelli’s the best, and you could argue that Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dickhead are #2 and #3 because they’re champions… plus there’s Soutter, and now Frostbite. There’s a legitimate argument out there that you could very well be the worst member of the group!”

Caffrey sounds almost confused to have an opponent that is okay with riding on the coattails of his partners.

“You’re content. I expect you to trot your ass out of whatever hole you crawled yourself into and pretend you haven’t heard of me. I expect you to think that I’m overstepping and that you haven’t lost your edge. I also expect you to end up screaming for your dear life and tapping out. These aren’t plain and true facts like that the sky is blue and that 110% Syberus should be surrendering the International Championship to me, but we all know they’re practically true. Maybe a minor detail is off, but I’ve got enough knowledge behind me that I can make due with making a minor. You, on the other hand, have already made a giant mistake: fucking me over. This arrogant radio silence is just icing on the cake.”

Caffrey mimes sticking his fingers in a cake’s frosting and licking them. He smiles his sinister smile for a few seconds, before running his fingers through his air.

“See, when I lost my championship, I didn’t get like you. I did not get content. It did not matter who I was going to bed with, because while I was awake I was living on a walking nightmare. There are things in life that go together so well, you think of them naturally as a pair rather. It’s peanut butter and jelly; black and white; and Anthony Caffrey and being a champion. Now, I’ve gotten better at living through this nightmare, especially knowing that 110% is about to hand over what truly belongs to me…”

Caffrey’s voice fades out for a few moments. He clearly knows that Syberus won’t give him his championship, but he leaves the idea on the table in case Syberus suddenly grows a brain overnight. He knows the possibility of that occurring is slim, but the idea gives him a slight smile.

“...no, instead, I hit the gym. I challenged the biggest and baddest the AWF had to offer. I didn’t win them all, but it’s almost March and I’m still undefeated in singles and tag team action. It’s not my fault that cowards like Seth Dillinger avoided my challenges and Ziko kept me away from his top stars. I shouldn’t fault him too hard from wanting to keep the moneymaking machine that LGBKTO is as healthy as possible. Seth wouldn’t have wanted me to expose him as the fraud he is, so that’s why he’s 4,000+ miles away from me, getting ready to sign a piece of paper in front of a bunch of retirees that says he’s the champion. He’s got a contract signing to fight someone he’s already beaten, because deep down, he knows he couldn’t fucking take me on his best day.”

There is absolutely no love lost between Dillinger and Caffrey. He turns his attention back to the matter at hand.

“As for SWAT, I only get a slightly similar feeling of people avoiding me, but I have a feeling that management knows the calls for me to get my opportunity will only get louder as I plow through the Cement Six and any other idiot that thinks they can go toe-to-toe with the Chief Asshole. One by one they’ll pop up, and one by one I will knock them down. It’s a Whack-a-Mole, and instead of coming back up for more… hopefully, hopefully they’ll all have learned a new perspective.”

Caffrey pulls back out the photo of him pushing the Eiffel Tower one more time.

“The way I see it, the SWAT roster looks at me right now like I’m just another jackass claiming he’ll topple everyone in sight. They know it’s not going to happen, so they’ll let me talk. They’ll keep me at a distance and hope I exhaust myself and give up on my goals, ultimately falling in line. That’s their perspective, and well… there’s only one problem with it.”

Caffrey pulls back the phone, swiping right to a new photo. He holds the photo back from view for now.

“The problem with everyone’s perspective is that they don’t know me. They still refuse to look me up and my work. It’s a few quick searches away. Go watch an AXW episode. Go watch me crush the former world championship contender over on an old episode of AWF. Go watch any of the global shows for the past year and watch me have my hand raised over any of the multitude of chucklefucks that have been put in my way. One by one, slowly… you’ll begin to change your perspective. You’ll realize the problem with your thinking before the rest of SWAT gets their head out of their ass, and good for you. You’ll have that advantage. But I’ll tell you what it is -- I’ll tell you what it is right now, so that in a few weeks, or a few months, whenever Ig get my opportunity, there’ll only be one thing left to say: I told you so.”

Caffrey finds the photo he’s looking for.

“The problem for all of you in your perspective is that you’ve got your idea of me all mixed up. You think I’m the one giving the futile effort, you think I’m the one trying to exert my will and push over the company, and you think I’m the one trying to topple SWAT.”

Caffrey holds up the picture to the camera.

“In reality, I’m the Tower.”

The final image before the camera fades to black is a photoshopped version of the earlier scene. The Eiffel Tower is gone. In its place is a smiling Anthony Caffrey, holding the SWAT World Heavyweight Championship high above his head.

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker : Welcome back, coming up next, we have Alex Withers meeting up with SWAT newcomer, El Combatiente.

Andrew Fulton : Withers nearly went all the way in his return to SWAT at the rumble, i think he will make short work of this masked Combatie.

Jeremy Tucker : Its El Combatiente.

Andrew Fulton : Yeah, that’s what i said.

The opening of the Game’s “One Blood” hits the pa system and El Combatiente follows his manager Javier onto the stage. They look around soaking up there surrounding until El Combatiente breaks into a full sprint for the ring and slides in. Javier slowly walks to ringside and takes his position at ringside as El Combatiente stretches in the ring preparing for his match to begin

Frank Salazar : The following contest is scheduled for ONE fall, introducing first, hailing from Los Angeles, CA, coming in at 5’9 and 219 pounds ... EL COMBATIENTE!!! And introducing his opponent, hailing from Lansing, Detroit, Michigan. Coming in at 6’ and 170 pounds.

My Own Summer begins to play across the PA system and after a short delay out walks Alex Withers, dressed with a black zip up hoody lifted over his head, simple black boots and trunks he walks with a purpose towards the ring. Sliding under the bottom rope he heads towards his corner without even a look towards the camera. Rubbing at each wrist he waits until the last possible moment to take his top off and bounces on the balls of his feet staring at his opponent.

Jeremy Tucker : Referee Vick Mackey calls for the bell, and we are underway, they go to lock up and El Combatiente ducks under the grapple and runs off to the ropes, he bounces off the ropes and goes for a sliding drop kick and Withers steps over it, Withers goes for a kick and El Combatiente catches, he spins Withers around by the leg and Withers goes for a spinning clothesline, but El Combatiente ducks under that also the connects with a Pele kick. What a display of chain wrestling by these two.

Andrew Fulton : He is quick El Combatiente, i will give him that.

Jeremy Tucker : Quick as a hic up.

Andrew Fulton : Snap supex by El Combatiente.

Jeremy Tucker : He goes to follow it up with another, but Withers blocks it and then powers El Combatiente over with a snap suplex of his own.

Andrew Fulton : Bit of ring rust there from El Combatiente, Withers stomps on him, then drives the head of El Combatiente into the mat with a big DDT.

Jeremy Tucker : His masked skull just bounced off the mat in a bad way, that DDT sent him into next week. Withers seizes he prone El Combatiente and goes to town on him with a series of stiff shots, kicks, chops, strikes, brutal in execution and precise delivery. Withers then almost takes his masked head off with a stiff short arm clothesline.

Andrew Fulton : This is the Alex Withers i know and love. He could be anything here in SWAT Jerry. Anything!

Jeremy Tucker : Withers picks him up and drills him with a crushing Piledriver!

Andrew Fulton : Lights out. Shut the gate Jerry, this one is Oh_Vah.

Jeremy Tucker : Cover by Withers, Mackey makes the count .............

One ...................

Two ...................

Th ... kick out by El Combatiente.

Andrew Fulton : Withers glares at Mackey, and then picks up El Combatiente, but El Combatiente hooks him in a small package .................

Jeremy Tucker : One .............

Two .....................

Thr ... kick out by Withers.

Andrew Fulton : Wow. That was a close call for Withers there.

Jeremy Tucker : Dropsault by El Combatiente! What a move! He stays on Withers and plants him with a devastating sliced bread! This guy can go! Cover by El Combatiente

One .......................

Two ......................

Thre ... Withers gets the shoulder up.

Andrew Fulton : Its gonna take more than that to beat Alex Withers.

Jeremy Tucker : El Combatiente off the top ropes goes for a Senton to finish him off, but Withers gets the knee’s up and the back of El Combatiente looks like it just snapped in two landing on them knees.

Andrew Fulton : Withers stomps some more on El Combatiente then locks on the cross face chicken wing! Tap! TAPPPPPPP!

Jeremy Tucker : Its locked in tight! El Combatiente is scrambling. He got a foot in the ropes, El Combatiente got a foot in the ropes and Mackey calls for the break. Withers throws him angrily to the mat and again stomps away on him. He has a real mean streak Alex Withers.

Andrew Fulton : That’s what i like about him the most.

Jeremy Tucker : El Combatiente makes his way back to his feet .... SPEAR!!!

Andrew Fulton : What a spear by Withers! Covers and hooks the leg!

Jeremy Tucker : One ..................

Two .................

Thr ... El Combatiente rolls the shoulder.

Andrew Fulton : He just wont stay down this Mexican.

Jeremy Tucker : He is from LA! Withers now heads to the top, he signals it’s over, and flies with a diving headbutt .... El Combatiente rolls out of the way! Crash landing for Withers.

Andrew Fulton : 450 splash off the top by El Combatiente!

Jeremy Tucker : He nailed it! El Combatiente throws Withers into the corner and follows him in with a big Stinger Splash.

Andrew Fulton : 630 splash! El Combatiente with a 630, Wow!

Jeremy Tucker : STREET JUSTICE!!! (Vertibreaker) El Combatiente with the Street Justice on Alex Withers .... he makes the cover and hooks the leg ......

One .........................

Two .............................

THREEEEE!!!!!

Andrew Fulton : I can’t believe it! He lost, Alex Withers lost.

Jeremy Tucker : No Fulton. El Combatiente WON. Great debut, welcome to SWAT!

Frank Salazar :Winner of the match ..... EL COMBATIENTE!!!!

The Game - One Blood hits and referee Vick Mackey raises the arm of El Combatiente in victory, Alex Withers fuming in the ring.

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker: Coming up fans is a grudge match that promises to be a wild one.

Andrew Fulton: Promises, promises, Jerry. I'm not taken in so easily anymore. Not since that man who didn't turn out to be a dentist at all. Plus his car was dirty.

Jeremy Tucker: "Lucky" Linda La Fey defeated Albion Gale in the finals of the $2 Million Women's Tournament. They respected one another as warriors and shook hands in the ring, but the KGB wasn't going to let that kind of sportsmanship stand.

Andrew Fulton: Damn right. This isn't the Family Feud.

Jeremy Tucker: Right, on the Family Feud they don't burn your prize money like the KGB did.

Andrew Fulton: That's only because Steve Harvey never thought of it. They could save a fortune!

[“Invidia” by Yoko Shimomura starts playing over the speakers, and during the slow open, the sounds of distant thunder and wind are piped in as well. There is a louder thunderclap at the drop, and water starts to pelt the stage in a simulated downpour. Albion walks out onto the stage, a black trenchcoat on over her ring gear, and she stands proudly with her arms out in the deluge. After a few seconds, the “rain” stops and she strides down to the ring. Compared to when her entrance theme started and all the storm sounds, the arena feels positively calm for Albion now. As the song’s tempo increases, Albion’s pace quickens until she is in the ring. At this point she dramatically tears open her trenchcoat, revealing her ring attire underneath. She holds her arms out as though soaking in some sun (or mirroring how she stood in the “storm”) before removing her coat and draping it over the top rope where a stagehand retrieves it and tucks it away next to the timekeeper. She then does some last minute stretches to prepare for the upcoming match]

Jeremy Tucker: Albion Gale defeated Jade and the SWAT Amazons Champion Joanne Canelli to get to the finals.

Andrew Fulton: That last one was a dagger in my cholesterol clogged heart.

Jeremy Tucker: That's touching, Andy. In the finals, she took "Lucky" Linda La Fey to the limit, but in the end it was La Fey that won the money.

Andrew Fulton: You think that isn't gnawing at her? Mark my words, Linda's partners are gonna get their revenge tonight.

Jeremy Tucker: I don't think...

Andrew Fulton: Mark them!!

Jeremy Tucker: Alright, Jesus, Andy, they're marked.

[There is a long intro to "Storm" by Yoshida Brothers consisting of chanting, shamisen chords, and at about 0:36, a short percussion solo. The lights dim at the beginning of the song, and The Phoenix comes out and immediately kneels in the center of the stage]

Jeremy Tucker: “The Phoenix” Seiji Shimuzu has been everywhere from Hardkore World to the XWA, and won gold throughout the world. He teams with Albion and they are known as Harbingers of Dawn.

Andrew Fulton: Both teams are very experienced working together, this should be a great one.

[For about thirty seconds, he sits in seiza on the stage, eyes closed. He remains in this position, completely still, until the percussion solo ends and the song starts in earnest, when he rises from seiza, shifting to a one-legged kneel to pose as though he's holding a katana horizontally over his head. This lasts only a few seconds before he stands up fully. Once he's on his way down to the ring, he walks directly to the ring. His focus is wholly on the ring as he walks around to the ring steps, walking up them to get to the apron. He stands there a moment, head bowed, before wiping his boots on the apron and stepping into the ring proper. He then goes to his corner and returns to the kneeling seiza position as he awaits the introduction of "Lucky" Linda Fey. Then "Linger" by The Cranberries hits and Lucky Linda makes her way down the ramp way, high fiving the fans]

Jeremy Tucker: And here she is, the winner of the 8 woman 2 million dollar tournament!

Andrew Fulton: And where is her money to show for it?

Jeremy Tucker: The KGB burned the cheque!

Andrew Fulton: And saved SWAT a mint! They should be hailed as heroes. Where do you think that money was coming from? Our desk chairs are stuck in the same position since 2015! Plus I've heard she's pretty cheap.

Jeremy Tucker: She's not letting you borrow that money, Andy.

Andrew Fulton: Invest that money. Invest. I'm starting a service where you can buy gifs of me making silly faces, so you can put me in your group chat with captions like "Say what?" or "Andy HORNY!"

Jeremy Tucker: No one wants to text that, ever. "Lucky" Linda La Fey looking for revenge for that indignity and has asked the only woman she considers up to the task to help her.

Andrew Fulton: A foolish decision on La Fey's part, those two are not over Albion losing in the finale.

Jeremy Tucker: Nonsense. Albion Gale said that Linda earned her respect by defeating her without resorting to the shortcuts that the KGB's Jade and Joanne Canelli had to.

Andrew Fulton: She also says she has a magic wand to fight vampires, Jerry!

Jeremy Tucker: "The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu is at a distinct disadvantage being the only man on his team, but he has vowed to keep the SWAT World Tag Team Champions Team Fairtex busy so that Albion Gale can go after Joanne Canelli.

Frank Salazar: "The following is a tornado six man tag team match scheduled for one fall. Featuring first, from The Phoenix's Roost; Standing 6 feet inches 3 tall; Weighing 230 pounds...'THE PHOENIX' SEIJI SHIMUZU!!! And his partner from Evansville, Indiana; Standing feet inches tall; Weighing pounds....ALBION GALE!! They are THE HARBINGERS OF DAWN!!"

[The Paris fans cheer wildly!]

Frank Salazar: And their partner is from Dublin, Ireland; Standing 5 feet 5 inches tall; Weighing 150 pounds...'LUCKY' LINDA LA FEY!!!"

[The AccorHotels Arena pops! Then the house lights go down, as a spotlight goes over the crowd. As the spotlight comes to a stop at the back of the entrance way, as "Courtesy Call" by Thousand Foot Krutch begins to play. A picture of the Italian Flag appears on the screen with the letters F.B.I over the flag, with the words "FULL BLOODED ITALIAN" is written underneath. It soon changes to scenes of mob hits, newspaper clippings from just recent to the late 1900's, but soon changes once again, to shots of the Mafioso, sitting in a large office, and in limos, and in arena's from times since past. The spotlight focuses on six figures figures standing at the back of the ramp. This is the SWAT Amazons Champion Joanne, her bodyguards, and the SWAT World Tag Team Champions Team Fairtex. They make their way down the ramp with Joanne in the middle with Reno and Rude on either side, and Scarpaci following behind. Phantam Fairtex comes to the ring with two models one on each arm accompanied by his brother Tong and their two wrestling valet/wrestlers. Phantam Fairtex holds the ropes for the models and sends them away and walks like a model before doing a brief dance and strips to reveal his ring attire consisting of the Muy Thai fighting colored gear that Tong wears, dark wrestling boots and Thai Fighing streamers. Joanne and her bodyguards are talking among themselves ignoring the crowd around them. When they reach the ring, Reno holds open the ropes for her, as she slips inside, only to follow behind and stand in the middle of the ring, around her. Tong Fairtex does a brief dance before going to each corner to say a brief prayer before going to his corner jumping up and down slapping his body, chest and face glaring as he is introduced and his brother is in his corner talking and psyching him up as he also gives him instructions. Joanne Canelli removes her jacket, and hands it to one of the guys, before they head out of the ring. Phantam Fairtex goes to all four corners and says a brief prayer before going to his corner and jumps up and down pounding his chest and face with his fists glaring angrily as both the valet/wrestlers leave and Tong gives him advice while he psyches him up]

Jeremy Tucker: "The Jersey Devil Diva" Joanne Canelli sounded pretty confident in her partners coming into this match.

Andrew Fulton: Of course she is. Look at all that gold, Jerry. It's blinding!

Jeremy Tucker: Would you stop?

Andrew Fulton: No, I'm serious, Jerry. I can't see!

Jeremy Tucker: But you have a point that the KGB is carrying alot of gold on that side of the ring.

Andrew Fulton: (shrieking) WHO SAID THAT??

Jeremy Tucker: Let go of me! Team Fairtex has gone on record to predict a dominant victory. The KGB looking to rid themselves of two new types of challengers to those belts with a win here tonight.

Frank Salazar: "And their opponents, they are from Bangkok, Thailand; and Stand 6 feet tall; Featuring first, Weighing 230 pounds; PHANTAM FAIRTEX!! His partner weighs 235 pounds...TONG FAIRTEX!!! They are The SWAT WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS...TEAM FAIRTEX!!!" They're partner is from The Jersey Shore; Standing 5 feet 11 inches tall; Weighing 135 pounds; She is The SWAT AMAZONS CHAMPION...'THE JERSEY DEVIL DIVA' JOANNE CANELLI!!! They are THE KGB!!!"

[The French fans boo loudly. Referee Tommy Milligan signals for the bell and all six converge on one another. "Lucky" Linda La Fey whacks Joanne Canelli in the chest with hard chops]

Andrew Fulton: The SWAT Amazons Champion responding with knife edge chops to La Fey's throat!

Jeremy Tucker: Those two are exchanging some blistering chops, meanwhile, Albion Gale drops Phantam Fairtex with a dropkick.

[The crowd cheers. Tong Fairtex challenges Albion Gale to a test of strength, and The AccorHotels Arena pops]

Andrew Fulton: Oh, I'd like to see this.

[Tong puts his hand up too high and Albion Gale can't reach it. The fans boo and Fairtex mocks her]

Jeremy Tucker: Come on, Tong's got 7 inches on her.

Andrew Fulton: He's havin a bit of a laugh with her, don't be such a stick in the mud.

[Tong Fairtex finally gives her his hands and they lock up. Fairtex starts getting the advantage on her, drawing loud jeers from the audience]

Jeremy Tucker: "The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu pulls Fairtex back by his long hair, until Albion Gale is winning the test of strength!

Andrew Fulton: Oi! This isn't a joke!

[The AccorHotels Arena roars and Tong Fairtex releases the test of strength and complains to Tommy Milligan about the hairpull]

Jeremy Tucker: The Phoenix ducks a muy thai punch from Phantam Fairtex and atomic drops him into Tong and Joanne Canelli!! He took them out like a bowling ball!

[The French fans celebrate as the KGB regroup on the outside]

Andrew Fulton: Tommy Milligan has to get some control in here. They can't all be in the ring at the same time. What's that word you say when KGB does something?

Jeremy Tucker: Illegal?

Andrew Fulton: Such an ugly word.

Jeremy Tucker: This is a tornado match, which means all six people are allowed in the ring.

Andrew Fulton: Absurd.

[Tong Fairtex slides into the ring, and catches Albion Gale coming in with an overhead belly to belly suplex! The audience boos and Joanne Canelli jumps on Gale and pounds her with mounted punches]

Andrew Fulton: Nevermind, I'm back on board.

Jeremy Tucker: Phantam Fairtex slides into the ring but "Lucky" Linda La Fey takes him out with a dropkick.

["The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu backs Phantam into the corner, and then slams a shoulder into his midsection, over and over. Linda La Fey saves Albion by snapmaring Joanne Canelli over]

Jeremy Tucker: "Lucky" Linda La Fey tattoos Canelli in the back with a stiff kick!

[The French fans let out a collective "OH!!" as Joanne Canelli arches her back in pain. Shimuzu irish whips Phantam Fairtex into the corner, but as he charges in Phantam bounces off the turnbuckles with a russian sickle on Phoenix! The cheers turn to jeers]

Andrew Fulton: Team Fairtex irish whip Shimuzu into the ropes and give him a double elbow to his stomach, and then a double backfist to his face!

[The AccorHotels Arena boos. Albion Gale snap vertical suplexes Joanne Canelli hard to the mat]

Jeremy Tucker: Phantam Fairtex turns around into a superkick upside the head by "Lucky" Linda La Fey!

[Fairtex staggers around stunned, Albion wraps herself around him for a crucifix, but Fairtex doesn't go down]

Andrew Fulton: That's what we call, weathering the storm.

Jeremy Tucker: Seiji Shimuzu dropkicks Phantam Fairtex in the face, and with the added momentum, Albion hits a Crucifix Driver!!

Referee: 1...2...(Joanne Canelli stomps Albion Gale)

Andrew Fulton: The captain of the team saves it here!

Jeremy Tucker: Tong Fairtex starts tattooing Phoenix in the chest with judo chops. Phoenix answering with European uppercuts.

Andrew Fulton: Joanne Canelli pulls Gale up into a double underhook and starts kneeing her in the midsection.

Jeremy Tucker: "Lucky" Linda La Fey grabs Joanne Canelli from behind, ties their legs up and snaps back into a Irish Legsweep! She rolls on top of her for the pin.

Referee: 1...(Joanne Canelli kicks out)

Jeremy Tucker: Seiji Shimuzu gets the upperhand on Tong Fairtex with those european uppercuts, and pulls Tong into a suplex, but Tong blocks it.

Andrew Fulton: Phantam Fairtex joins them and they double snap suplex Phoenix!

[The Paris audience boos. Tong Fairtex atomic drops Shimuzu on the top turnbuckle, and then pulls him back into a tree of woe. Phantam Fairtex backs up and then runs into a bronco buster on an upside down Phoenix]

Andrew Fulton: Give ‘em the bollocks, Tong!

Jeremy Tucker: That's Phantam.

Andrew Fulton: Says you.

Jeremy Tucker: Meanwhile, Albion Gale twists Joanne Canelli's arm and hook kicks her.

Andrew Fulton: "Lucky" Linda La Fey pulls her up but The Jersey Devil Diva yanks her to the mat by her hair!

[The AccorHotel Arena rocks with boos. Joanne Canelli sees Phoenix starting to get up, and applies a claw to his balls]

Andrew Fulton: The testicular claw! That's right, the champ is pulling out all the stops here!

Jeremy Tucker: That is blantantly illegal and Tommy Milligan laying in the five count for her to release it.

[Joanne Canelli finally lets go, and Phoenix rolls over, clutching his junk. Canelli rakes her fingernails down Albion Gale's back]

Andrew Fulton: Albion Gale staggering around from pain, Phantam Fairtex pulls down the top rope and she falls out to the floor.

Jeremy Tucker: Joanne Canelli gets a running start and baseball slide dropkicks Albion Gale!

[The crowd boos. Joanne Canelli rolls out of the ring and smashes Gale's head into the apron. "Lucky" Linda La Fey slingshots herself onto the middle of the top rope]

Jeremy Tucker: "Lucky" Linda La Fey flies off the middle of top turnbuckle with a springboard senton on Joanne Canelli!!

[The French fans chant "LEEN-DA!! LEEN-DA!! LEEN-DA!! as Canelli and La Fey lie on the ground]

Jeremy Tucker: Meanwhile, inside the ring, Tong Fairtex pulls Shimuzu up, and shoots him into the ropes, but Phoenix comes back with a flying shoulderblock that takes out both members of Team Fairtex!

Andrew Fulton: Phoenix flips Tong over in a japanese armdrag. Phantam goes to help his brother but he got a Japanese armdrag for his trouble as well.

[Phantam gets to his feet, but Seiji Shimuzu basement dropkicks Fairtex in the kneecap. On the outside, "Lucky" Linda La Fey irish whips Joanne Canelli into Albion Gale who back body drops her high up onto the cement!! The crowd roars]

Jeremy Tucker: No give on that concrete!

Andrew Fulton: Meanwhile, inside the ring, Tong Fairtex surprises Shimuzu by lifting him up in an electric chair. Phantam Fairtex climbs to the top turnbuckle, and grabs Phoenix off of Tong's shoulders with a diamond cutter! Fairtex Stunner!!

Referee: 1...2...(Seiji Shimuzu kicks out)

Jeremy Tucker: Linda La Fey now rolling Joanne Canelli onto our announce table here.

Andrew Fulton: Mind my ash tray, love!

[Jeremy and Andrew Fulton clear out as La Fey pulls Canelli up by the hair into a standing position]

Jeremy Tucker: Ok fans, I hope you can still hear us. Joanne Canelli slugs La Fey hard in the gut, and then snap DDTs her on our announce table!!

[The Paris audience jeers as Joanne Canelli recovers on the table, next to a cold La Fey. Inside the ring, Team Fairtex pulls up Shimuzu as Albion Gale slides into the ring]

Jeremy Tucker: Albion roundhouse kicks Tong Fairtex, knocking him into Seiji's dragon suplex!!

Referee: 1...2...(Phantam Fairtex stomps Phoenix's midsection)

Andrew Fulton: Albion Gale clips Phantam's knee from behind.

Jeremy Tucker: "The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu spread eagles Phantam's legs and then elbow drops the side of his knee.

Andrew Fulton: He follows it with a leg lace!

[Tommy Milligan checks in to see if Phantam Fairtex wants to tap out but he refuses. Phoenix wrenches up on Phantam's twisted legs]

Andrew Fulton: "The Jersey Devil Diva" Joanne Canelli rakes Phoenix's eyes with those nails of hers!

Jeremy Tucker: Shimuzu releases the leg lace and staggers to his feet, blinded, and Joanne Canelli hits him with a low blow!

[The AccorHotels Arena rocks with boos as Shimuzu tips over like a redwood tree. Albion Gale takes Joanne Canelli out with a spinning wheel kick]

Andrew Fulton: Tong Fairtex pulls Shimuzu up and snap suplexes him. He rolls his hips and pulls him up into a second snap suplex.

Jeremy Tucker: Tong rolls him up into a third snap suplex. Out here it would be known as Trois Amis!

[Phantam Fairtex hobbles up to his feet and climbs to the top turnbuckle. Tong Fairtex irish whips Shimuzu into the ropes and catches him with a lightning fast belly to belly suplex]

Andrew Fulton: Phantam Fairtex comes off the top rope with a corkscrew senton!! Fairtex Bomb!

Referee: 1...2...(Albion Gale stomps the back of Phantam's head)

Jeremy Tucker: "Lucky" Linda La Fey flies off the top rope with a body press on Tong Fairtex!

Referee: 1...2...(Tong Fairtex kicks out)

Andrew Fulton: Pinfalls coming fast and furious, mate!

Jeremy Tucker: "Lucky" Linda La Fey, with fire in her eyes, grabs Joanne Canelli and pulls her up into a piledriver, drilling her head into the mat!

["The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu climbs to the top turnbuckle and takes out both members of Team Fairtex with a missle dropkick!! The French audience pops loud, and starts chanting "FENN-IX FENN-IX! FENN-IX!"]

Jeremy Tucker: Seiji hits a running big boot on Tong Fairtex pushes him into Albion’s waiting arms for a snap german suplex, which she then bridges and rolls over into a japanese prawn hold pinning predicament!

Referee: 1...2...(Tong Fairtex kicks out)

Jeremy Tucker: "The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu charges Phantam Fairtex but Phantam backdrops him over the ropes to the floor below!

Andrew Fulton: Albion Gale dropkicks Phantam Fairtex in the kneecap.

[Phantam yelps out in pain and crumples to the mat. Albion Gale gets Joanne Canelli up into a rear waistlock, but Canelli back elbows her in the face]

Jeremy Tucker: Joanne Canelli kicks Gale in the stomach, then runs to ropes and delivers a Mafia Kick to the side of the head!!

[On the floor, Tong Fairtex is unhinging the guardrail. He picks it up and tosses it at Seiji Shimuzu!! The audience lets out an "OH!!" at the clanging metallic sound as it hits the floor]

Andrew Fulton: Things are breaking down here!

Jeremy Tucker: Canelli cracks "Lucky" Linda La Fey in the jaw with a right hand. Again, just pummeling Linda. She floors La Fey with a big haymaker!

Andrew Fulton: No one is winning a fist fight with The Jersey Devil Diva!

Jeremy Tucker: Meanwhile on the floor, Phantam Fairtex has joined his brother and fallaway slams Phoenix into the ringpost!!

[Phantam Fairtex climbs onto the apron. He hops onto the middle of the second rope to springboard, but Albion Gale dropkicks him, sending him plummeting into the railing!! The French fans chant "AL-BE-YON!! AL-BE-YON!! AL-BE-YON!!"]

Jeremy Tucker: Albion Gale turns around and catches an oncoming Joanne Canelli with a leaping reverse STO!! Cacophony!

Andrew Fulton: Right in front of us, "The Phoenix" hops onto the middle of the second rope and backflips into an asai moonsault on Tong Fairtex!!

[The crowd roars at the demolition derby of bodies lying at ringside. Inside the ring, "Lucky" Linda La Fey wraps up Canelli's legs and turns her over into a texas cloverleaf]

Jeremy Tucker: Irish Cloverleaf! Linda La Fey plants her feet and cranks back on Canelli's figure foured legs.

Andrew Fulton: Referee Tommy Milligan checking in, but there's no quit in the SWAT Amazons Champion!

["The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu rolls Phantam Fairtex back into the ring. He climbs in and grabs his leg, turning him over into a single leg boston crab]

Jeremy Tucker: The Phoenix and Lucky Linda both have the KGB locked in a submission!

Andrew Fulton: Joanne Canelli crawls to the ropes, come on, Milligan! Break the hold!

Jeremy Tucker: Meanwhile, Seiji Shimuzu bending Phantam's leg back towards his head, putting pressure on that aching knee.

[Tommy Milligan forces La Fey to break the Irish Cloverleaf and then goes to check in to see if Phantam Fairtex taps. Tong Fairtrex drops double ax handles on Shimuzu until he breaks the single leg boston crab]

Jeremy Tucker: Tong Fairtex pulls Phoenix up into a half nelson, and then drops him on his head with a t-bone suplex!

["Lucky" Linda La Fey atomic drops Joanne Canelli onto the top turnbuckle and then peels her back into a tree of woe. She backs into the other corner and then cannonballs into a 450 dropkick on the upside down Joanne!! The French fans cheer]

Jeremy Tucker: Tong Fairtex spins into a uraken, but Shimuzu ducks and catches him with a back suplex, and Albion Gale grabs him off Phoenix's shoulders with a neckbreaker!!

[The crowd gets louder! "The Phoenix" Seiji Shimuzu double underhooks Phantam Fairtex and lifts him up into an angel's wings]

Jeremy Tucker: Phoenix hits the Hoyoku!! Now, "Lucky" Linda La Fey climbing to the top turnbuckle and flips into her 450 splash!!

[Scarpaci Canelli rolls in some brass knuckles, and Joanne Canelli weakly grabs them. Linda La Fey makes the cover]

Andrew Fulton: Joanne Canelli smashes La Fey in the temple with those knuckle dusters!! Kiss the Rings! She rolls her over.

Jeremy Tucker: Oh, come on! Meanwhile, Phoenix flips Phantam Fairtex over, as a waiting Albion soars down with her Purple Rain shooting star press!! Radiant Dawn!

Referee: 1...2...3!!!

[Albion Gale and Phoenix celebrate as "Courtesy Call" by Thousand Foot Krutch plays for a confused crowd]

Frank Salazar: "THE WINNER OF THE MATCH...THE KGB!!!"

Jeremy Tucker: What?? How?

Andrew Fulton: "The Jersey Devil Diva" Joanne Canelli had "Lucky"Linda pinned that whole time. Tommy Milligan counted the first pinfall he saw. What an amazing official!

[The AccorHotels Arena rocks with boos as Reno Renard and BJ Rude Thompson roll a dazed Joanne Canelli out of the ring as her brother Scarpaci hands her the SWAT Amazons Championship belt]

Jeremy Tucker: Lucky Linda squashed her like a bug with her 450 splash, and Joanne had to use those brass knuckles to save herself!

Andrew Fulton: It's a tornado match, things happen in tornadoes, Jerry.

[The Harbingers of Dawn argue with Tommy Milligan who keeps repeating that he only saw the pinfall on Linda La Fey, who is holding the side of her head as she slowly comes to. Tong Fairtex helps his limping brother out of the ring, and helps him hobble up the ramp]

Jeremy Tucker: The KGB look pretty worse for wear here after the match with The Harbingers of Dawn and Lucky Lindy here in Paris.

Andrew Fulton: Aye, but they don't count wear in the record books. They count wins, and gold, and the KGB's got a lot of em!