Battleground #27 : Mamma Said Knock You Out (Show)

[SWAT Team]

Syndicate Wrestling & Tradition and the XHF presents ....

Jeremy Tucker : Welcome! Welcome to Palm Springs! Welcome to Battleground! Welcome to SWAT!!!!

Andrew Fulton : Gangsta Boogie. Gangsta Boogie. Gangsta Boogie. Gangsta Boogie.

Jeremy Tucker : What an epic show we have just come of, with the Anzac Cup breaking all SWAT box office records. Ratings and buy rates are through the ROOF! Congratulations to The Stylistics, winning the Anzac Cup, last night was certainly their night and look at all of the Jonnie signs in the crowd.  This place is littered with them.

Andrew Fulton : They sent a message to the entire business on who is the measuring stick in this industry.

Jeremy Tucker : Also, congratulations to all of our entrants, it was a star studded line up, and there could well have been at least half a dozen teams who would consider themselves stiff not to be in possession of that cup right now, especially our runners up Radu and Lucky Linda.

Andrew Fulton : She showed some spunk didn’t she Jerry. I think I am developing a little crush on Lucky Linda. See her give it to Zoran at the presentation, that took some balls. Something i find very attractive in a lady.

Jeremy Tucker : (giving Fulton a double take look at what he just said about fancying balls in a women) Who don’t you fancy Andy? I couldn’t name one women you haven’t drooled or ogled over since we started this back over 20 years ago!

Andrew Fulton : I could, your WIFE!

Jeremy Tucker : She is YOUR SISTER MAN! What is wrong with you?

Andrew Fulton : There is a line you just don’t cross Jerry, be it colleagues wife Fulton rolls his eyes like that is really the case or your sister. You be the judge which line it is.

Jeremy Tucker : (fuming and changing the subject) Also last night we saw new X Crown Champion Anthony Caffrey defend his crown against four of our best in an impromptu match up, imagine that, being Samuel Blackstone and making your debut at SWAT in a X Crown Title Match no less.

Andrew Fulton : It doesn’t get any better, well, unless you win the Crown of course, but yeah, that guy is turning heads and like I have always said, it doesn’t matter why they are talking about you, only that they are.

Jeremy Tucker : Moving onto tonight, we have a huge line up, featuring an X Crown title match with Caffrey defending against both his Anzac Cup tag team partner Hayden Callahan AND Lucky Linda La Fey.

Andrew Fulton : Go Linda!

Jeremy Tucker : (glaring at Fulton) Also, the SWAT World Heavyweight Championship is on the line, with Mr Bones Trent Jones defending against Psychotic Goth. Goth almost captured the X Crown at the Cup and after Trent disrespected him while calling his match last Battleground, Goth goaded him into this title match today.

Andrew Fulton : Goth is one big win away from becoming THE big star around here Jerry, I really think this might be his night.

Jeremy Tucker : Then, just because he can, Commission Sainovic has pitted 110% Syberus and his Society of the New Breed team mate the Golden God Rally Jackson against each other for the International Title.

Andrew Fulton : I love Rally.

Jeremy Tucker : We_know. And speaking of Commissioner Sainovic, he is stepping in the ring tonight also, against the XHF’s Death Trap! DT and Zoran have developed quite the interfederation feud over the past few months, even with DT showing up in Manchester trying to play mind games with Zoran and now, they meet in this feature match up, with the winner getting a X Crown Title Match NEXT Battleground!

Andrew Fulton : Huge stakes there. If I know Zoran, and I do, you can bet your bottom dollar he will have a plan of some sort to get him not only over the line tonight, but get his Crown back next Battleground.

Jeremy Tucker : All that and much more folks live here tonight in Palm Springs, we will be right back with some words from our Superstars and then its Satans Disciples going up against La Famiglia in tag team action.

[edwarddubin0604]

(The tron shows Psychotic Goth and Vampira standing behind an altar red and green smoke swirls around them an occasional bit of flames flicking onto the screen.)

Vampira: "'Mr. Bones' Trent Jones you have committed an unforgivable sin against my husband, Psychotic Goth' and now you shall be sacrificed as an example along with your Brothers In Anarchy partner Eddie D."

Psychotic Goth: "'Mr. Bones' Trent Jones you made a terrible mistake when you provoked 'The King of the Goths' and incurred my wrath. You sinned against me and I shall show you why I'm gong to be your worst nightmare. You shall see why I'm mean and I am nasty and a pure maniac."

(Psychotic Goth roars in an ancient Latin dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "You see Trent you think you can insult me. You think you can trash me and then think I wouldn't come after you. I'm going to strike at where you hurt the most in the most unpleasant way."

Vampira: "It's going to be very unpleasant to you."

(Psychotic Goth disappears for a brief moment and loud snarls and savage grunts resound from the back of the altar as something that looks like a motorcycle that a bike that Trent Jones rides and he lifts it up and roars as he slams it onto the altar. He caresses it lovingly as if he feels sorry for the motorcycle.)

Psychotic Goth: "This lovely sacrifice is such a waste of one's soul. Imagine Trent something you love so dearly is also something that you are going to lose both on this altar and also tonight in the ring. I'm not going to just settle in taking the SWAT World Championship from you. I'm going to take your pride and joy away from you."

(Psychotic Goth roars in an Latin dialect before chanting as Vampira hands him a heavy duty sledgehammer.)

Psychotic Goth: "Now Trent you may want to look away as I take away your pride and joy. I'm going to take away your lifetime companion since you were a little pudgy boy who started out riding a tricycle singing 'Born to be Wild.' You thought your lovely companion was so safe from me. You thought wrong Trent. You thought quite wrong you overweight and beer bellied bastard."

(Psychotic Goth resumes chanting in a Latin dialect.)

Vampira: "Trent you should have shown respect towards 'The Psychotic One' because now you shall lose something close to you and you can't stop it."

(Psychotic Goth roars as he raises the sledgehammer and begins smashing the motorcycle with a savagery that hasn't been seen before. He continues to bring the sledgehammer down repeatedly roaring even louder and faster with such fury as parts fly in all directions until there isn't much left of the motorcycle. Psychotic Goth laughs maniacally roaring in a Latin dialect.)

Psychotic Goth: "I know you're going to be throwing a temper tantrum and then you're going to need your riding buddy Eddie D. to calm you down like the brat that you are. That's right poor Trent. You unleashed my rage and you unleashed the demonic streak that is in me and I'm gong to make sure you suffer and suffer and suffer until you feel how it's like to feel 'The King of the Goth's' wrath. Do not think it's going to be slow Trent. It's going to be quick and painful and you are going to find out how it feels to be getting a taste of your own medicine."

(Psychotic Goth laughs demonically as he's handed a jar of what looks like mayo.)

Psychotic Goth: "What do we have hear Trent. It looks like a jar of mayo and it's quite a large jar of a well known best selling brand. A question for you Trent. What is this obsession with this condiment. Is this something from your past that you are using to take it out those who pissed you off while growing up. Did something happen in your cafeteria days that caused you to assault your opponents with mayo."

(He laughs demonically again.)

Psychotic Goth: "Is there a nightmarish experience you don't want anyone to know about. Oh poor Trent you must hate anything with mayo such as hoagies and club sandwiches or maybe it's bologna sandwiches because it must have been something you didn't order and it made you sick. Oh such a sorry soul you are Trent. Such a sorry soul you are that you hate mayo and are using it as punishment because of your childhood memories."

(Psychotic Goth lowers his head and raises his arms before flinging back his head revealing his pale handsome goth like looks.)

Psychotic Goth: "Tonight Trent you shall earn your name 'Mr. Bones' because I shall make sure that I break every bone in your body. You shall see a wild beast. You shall see the savagery of a tortured soul. I shall grind your bones into chaff and paste so fine that I shall place the powder into an urn and I shall bury the urn never to be seen again. It shall also be your last ride as champion as I shall claim the SWAT World Heavyweight Champion. My darkness shall spread all over SWAT as I shall reign. That is a promise I shall keep Trent and I shall make sure this omen comes true."

(Psychotic Goth roars as she shoves the remains of the motorcycle off the altar in disrespect and then smashes the mayo on it as the tron goes dark.)

[eddied]

EDDIE: You find me today with one of my best friends. One of my heroes. He was Mr Universe and I'm only here to rule the wrestling industry. It's very humbling. Ex-California Governor and still a massive movie draw, Arnold Schwarzenegger.

(A montage of the two men meeting up at the Double D Club with a big hug and back slap, chatting, laughing, ordering drinks and retiring to the beer garden. Eddie is seen having a beer and cigar with Arnold Schwarzenegger)

ARNOLD: It's great what you've done with the place. Glad my regeneration scheme down here set some seeds. So, your next big wrestling show is being held here in California?

EDDIE: Yep. In God's fair State. A real home fixture for me. 

ARNOLD: Being in California will Hogan be there to cheer you on?

EDDIE: Sadly not. He's hiding from me. We had a big falling out and well... still... let's not dwell on that. Will you be there?

ARNOLD: Of course. I am glad we finally got together. It's been too long.

EDDIE: Well SWAT has had me flying all over Europe, so it's not really been easy. Plus, it's been real easy getting drinking time with my new friends The Graveyard Ryders and Trent Jones. You'll have to meet them sometime soon. Your calendar has been real busy of late.

ARNOLD: Sure, blame me why don't you? Ha Ha. So why did you reach out this time?

EDDIE: The thing is I need your advice.

ARNOLD: Go for it. 

EDDIE: You are very famous for playing the biggest scariest bad guy character in the movie business. The Terminator.

ARNOLD: Yep. That's why we're smoking the best Cubans not the worst Mexicans.

EDDIE: But then in the later films they made the character you worked so hard on, into a good guy. And most of your career you've been seen as the gentle giant.

ARNOLD: When I started out my size and accent drove what the industry would allow me to do. But when you work hard and impress the right people doors open up. Are you going into acting?

EDDIE: No. The wrestling business is cutthroat enough for me. Don't you wonder what would have happened if they had left Terminator as an iconic heel.

ARNOLD: Well I guess so, but it's no fun being typecast into only a bad guy or only a good guy. It holds you back. Why do you ask? 

EDDIE: I just performed a massive swerve, helped the SWAT title change hands and created a ton of enemies. I am not scared of anyone around here. Being the target of hate just makes me want to dish out more hurt. I am THE big deal in SWAT right now and couldn't be happier. I am just wondering whether just to settle into my new partnership and be more focused or whether to just be my chaotic self and lash out at anyone that crosses me. Regardless of whether that's just going to bite me down the line.

ARNOLD: Be yourself Eddie. Good Guy or Bad Guy, you have to be you. That's why I love to watch your work. Don't turn your back on your friends, but don't lose what made you the successful wrestler you are today. If that's not letting slights pass you by. Do that. If sticking to a game plan works for you. Do that.

EDDIE: I remember now why I voted for you. (They both laugh heartily)

ARNOLD: So, who are you up against? Have they finally booked you against that Brit guy. The cyber guy?

EDDIE: Syberus? No. Sadly. If they don't let me get my hands on that sanctimonious SOB in the squared circle soon, I'll just have to kick his head in backstage. Any fights we've had have been so.... so.... incomplete. A tag match face off here and there, a three way match, a chance meeting in the rumble. So frustrating...

ARNOLD: Ah, So you're up against that guy that took a dump in your kit bag?

EDDIE: Rally? No. Sadly not. When I get my hands on that areshole I'll show him what a prank is. I've already proven that I'm a better tag wrestler than he is by knocking his arse out of the Anzac Cup. I want to spoil his every success and be part of his every failure. I don't know what it is, but he and Syberus both have faces that demand to be slapped.

ARNOLD: Then who are you facing?

EDDIE: Timeless.

ARNOLD: Oh. Is he the one with the beautiful lady friend?

EDDIE: Yeah. He's a big shot in SWAT. It's going to be a real string to my bow if I can beat this guy. 

ARNOLD: OK. You're the king maker of the current SWAT champion and Timeless is one of the federations biggest draws... so you've got top billing?

EDDIE: Top of the midcard?

ARNOLD: Eddie... Big guy... If all that chat earlier was about whether you need to do something dramatic to be a headliner... Do whatever you need to do to be THE big deal you want to be. Don't worry about winning the crowd or losing the crowd. Gaining enemies or making friends, your route to success will come from being bigger than life and proving you're the best. I see it in you buddy. Just do it.

EDDIE: How much do you charge usually for these pep talks? Whatever it is you should charge more. Cheers dude.

ARNOLD: Well I already charge more than you could ever afford now, so thank your lucky stars that we're friends and you sell good beer.

(A montage of the two men laughing and joking plays as several beers seem to be drunk and the sun starts to go down. The pair are in the car lot outside The Double D club. Arnold and Eddie slurs their words a touch as they speak.)

ARNOLD: No way...

EDDDIE: Go on. Say it.

ARNOLD: OK.... OK... Hasta la vista, baby! (The pair laugh)

EDDIE: Hey?! Isn't that your hummer? You're not driving home?!




ARNOLD: Of course not! It's a sign of the times, and the crap neighbourhood you're club is in, that's the only Ubur that would drive down here to get me. But don't worry, I'll be back!

(Arnold and Eddie part ways with a hearty handshake and Eddie staggers a little as he returns to the bar and the scene ends.)

[Blackstone]

Rated SFU for Seriously fucked up. If you get offended easily, don't watch snowflake.

The sun was shining. The bees were buzzing. There were fine ass bitches on the beach just waiting to have a run in with yours truly. It was truly a beautiful day. But instead of being out there trying to get my dick wet, I was being roughed up by a couple of Russian mobster douchebags…

I'm sure you're all wondering exactly how ole Sammy wound up in that position. I mean. I was in a dirty alley with what had to be piss and shit in my hair. I was bleeding from my mouth and my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I was seriously fucked up. . If you ain't well then...what the fuck is wrong with you? Lucky for you, and me I guess, I'm gonna tell you. It seems like that Bill Fences fella with all the billions of dollars loved his cat. If you remember, I killed that cat with a lawnmower. And this was my punishment. One cats life for mine I guess.

Now the two Russian guys were your typical Russian mobster type guys. They grow them huge over there. These two boys were about as big as a man could get. But they're stupid as a waterhead kid or anybody from the south. See, while tweedledee and tweeedledum there were discussing about who was going to rip my innards out with his bare hands while I was gasping for air due to an abnormally large boot to the right side of my jaw, they didn't realize that I'd just pulled my best friend from my pocket.

Of course that best friend just happened to be my knife. Her name is Stella and she's a whore for blood. She wasn't very long but she was sharp. She never liked to end things quickly. Like I said. She was a whore for blood. The bitch loved it. It's like she got off from making people bleed. I found her a couple of years ago in a parking lot and cleaned Her up. She never left my side. She was my body guard.

What seemed like six hours went by before Russian badass number one decided that he would be the one. He'd won rock paper scissors three time in a row. I call him number one because I don't understand Russian and couldn't be bothered to catch a name. All that matter was that He was big, bald, and probably pissed off.

He approached me like anyone does when they're confident in themselves. You know the type. They lumber over slowly while whistling a dumbass tune they had stuck in their heads. That's what this guy did. It drove me insane. I'm laying there just waiting for this sasquatch to rip me apart but he took his sweet time.

“Please. Don't. I have a family.” I lied as I stared at the cell phone camera Is been using to send videos of my daily life to SWAT with. No. Still no camera crew.

“I'm sorry comrad but you have to die.” He told me with his stupid Russian accent.

It was worth a try, right? Oh well. Their mistake. In a blur that would probably be edited out by SWAT staff, Stella went to work. In the end, she gleaned like a fucking succubus while twaddle dee and twaddle dum lay there in a puddle of piss and shit.

“Damn Stella. You Must've been horny as fuck.” I said as I wiped the blood off on my white t-shirt.

That whore gleaned with delight as if she'd gotten off a few times and was spent. I looked back at the bodies. This was a bustling town full of shady fuckers looking to get one over on you. I was sure they'd be found sooner rather than later but I didn't know what to do with the bodies. If they were found and I was caught, somebody would hold that shit over my head. I was sure no one had seen what happened. I would have gotten help, right? I mean...no one would watch two bears in human clothes beat on one man in an alley and not help. At least I'd hope so but there's some fucked up people in the world.

“Stupid fucking asshole. If you wouldn't have played games, you might still be alive! Now I gotta pick your big asses up and get rid of you. And i was hoping to get my dick wet today. Asshole.” I shouted.

There were people walking by. I got a few looks but they kept going. I guess the thought I looked like a homeless guy on a bender so they avoided me like the fucking plague.

I had to do something. I couldn't leave the bodies there. No. Fucking. Way. And then it hit me. I could call up my old buddy Ray. He'd know what to do.

Ray was my dealer. He always got me that pure mountain snow. The kinda shit that made your whole body go numb. He also dealt with this type of shit all the time. So I took out my phone. And to my surprise, it was busted. Oh well. He didn't live far. I'd have to hobble my ass over to his apartment.

Ray lived in the bad part of town. It was worse than mine. I only had bums and meth whites. This dude had that and the meth labs. Somebody was always owing the fuck up in his neighborhood. I guess I was about to add to that. I'd never been in this situation before. I've always been a fun loving guy who spent what little money he had on drugs and hookers. Nothing more. Nothing less.

So I started walking. And while I walked through this bad ass neighborhood full of gangsters and what not, I began thinking about my next opponent. So I grabbed that camera and stuck it directly in my face. I wasn't even sure anyone would be able to see a damn thing other than a booger hang in outa my fucking nose.

“This is about the fucking time where one of SWATS so called talent would talk about how they got had cause they lost. Not me. I kicked ass at that Alphabet Cup. I really stomped some nut sacks in. Did I win? Fuck no. Some fucking loser who's name I won't be bothered to learn got pinned by the generic nineties nerd guy. That's one thing I didn't fucking count on.” I started before getting stopped by a dope looking lady.

“Hey momma. How you doin?” I asked with a smile as wide as my face.

“Twenty dollars and I'll suck yo dick.” She replied.

I wanted to partake as I had exactly that amount of money but I didn't have time.” I gotta pass. I done kilt two big ole bastards bout a couple blocks over.” I said as I kept on walking.

“What was I sayin? Oh yea. I didn't count on the rest of those wastes of oxygen being that fucking worthless. I mean...Those guys were just...useless. I could have walked through all of them with my dick wrapped around my foot. I thought them sumbitch's could at least put up a fight, but fuck naw. That fucking nerd went through them like they wasn't even there. Oh well. I didn't get my ass whooped an that's all that matters. But what do ya fuckin know. I got a match on the next show. I guess they liked my shit up at SWAT HQ. Some Indian fella. Not sure if it's the rain dancing kind or the dot dot kind. Fuck if I know his name neither. Does it matter? Fuuuuuuuck no. Names don't matter. Them fuckin actions do. Why the hell would I need to know a motherfucker name? Huh? All that matters is that we're gonna fight. I don't fucking need to know the piss poor clowns name to shove my right foot up his ass, do I?” I said.

I was, again interrupted on my walk to Ray's house.

“Who the fuck you talk in to?” Came as voice from my right. It was deep and menacing.

“Yo fuckin momma if I want to. She loves this dick.” I laughed as I walked past.

“These motherfucker keep on interrupting me. What was I saying again? Oh yea. Indian guy. I saw his picture. Dude looks like a massive goober and shouldn't be a problem. I mean. He doesn't even look like he can put two sentences together much less fight a very talented super badass like myself. This'll be another week of slapping balls to chin. Seriously. I looked at this dudes picture and all I can think of is to give this dude a knife so he stabs himself to death with it. That's what kind of dude this is. He couldn't possibly be a threat to a man like myself. I tried reading his bio but I don't read so good, you see. I guess I should have paid more attention in school. I was too busy trying to get laid and had no time for reading and doing math.” I laughed, remembering those old days at school. I played football and fucked cheerleaders in dingy bathrooms.”

I rounded a corner. There was Ray's house. It was beat the fuck up just like mine. Ray was outside sitting on the porch steps that were barely holding on.

Ray was a shorter man. He was a midget to myself. He stood about five foot four with a little chin hair and a fucking beamer hat down to his eyes. The guy looked like a Mexican.

“Yo Sam!” He shouted.

I hated that shit. Only bitches with wet pussies got to call me Sam, but I wasn't in a position to correct him.

“Yo I saw you on that SWAT show. You got your fucking ass kicked.” He laughed, nearly doubling over.

This motherfucker was gonna make me beat his ass.

“The fuck you watch? Wasn't me that got fucking pinned.” I said.

Ray put his face down on that rickety ads porch. When you came back up, his eyes were glazed over and there was white powder on his nose. Yup. This motherfucker was holding out.

“You gonna give me some of that?” I asked.

Ray shook his fucking head.

“You got some dough?” he asked.

Fuck.

“You know I ain't got shit. But I gotta match against this piss ant next show. I'll pay ya then.” I said.

Ray nodded his head. Fuck yes. The feeling that went through my body went I took that hit was unbelievable. If you've never took the slopes, I implore you to do so. It's amazing.

“Listen man. I got a fucking problem.” I started.

Ray cut me off.

“Hold up. You take my drugs and now you say you got a problem? I'm not running a fucking charity.” He said.

“Look man. Some big ass Russian guys jumped me.”

“Fuck man. I figured them bruises was from that ass beatin you took.” He laughed.

This dude was getting on my last nerve. I was about to replace that weird Indian fuck with him.

“They dead, homie. I need the bodies took care of.” I told him before taking another bump.

“Aight. I'll call my homey.” He said.

Ray Ray always came through. Lucky for him. I was about to cave his fucking head in. But now all I had to worry bout was the fucking goober. Think I'll call him generic weird ass fuck. That because his eyes bug out of his head like he's choking on something. He bout to get a fucking reckoning.


I walked away high and ready to hit the beach. I got my substance of choice. Now to make some bitches dreams come true.

[edwarddubin0604]

(Kim is in the locker room as Jade watches over her with her arms crossed as she cleans and oil her Glock. The door opens and Glamourous Glenda enters the locker room.)

Glamourous Glenda: "Is Kim busy at the moment."

Jade: "She's cleaning her favorite toy at the moment."

Kim: "It's okay sis. I can talk while cleaning my prized Glock."

Glamourous Glenda: "It's been a while since you wrestled and tonight you return to the ring facing Suzi Spitz who is also returning."

Kim: "You know how funny it is that Suzi Spitz debuts close to four years ago and wins the SWAT Amazons Women's Championship and then after a few title defenses she loses and then disappears. Then she returns after a year and starts running her mouth and then participates in a few matches and then disappears. Rewind and reset and guess who returns to SWAT again after disappearing conveniently."

Glamourous Glenda: "Suzi Spitz."

Kim: "Yeah Suzi Spitz. She conveniently returns to SWAT and runs her mouth again and wins a few matches and then once again disappears. Meanwhile, I was in the ring a few times and backing up my words with action win r lose. Yet where was Suzi Spitz at the time."

Glamourous Glenda: "Nowhere."

Kim: "Yeah nowhere. Rewind and reset again. Then she disappears after our war games match and in meantime what happens after she disappears."

Glamourous Glenda: "Rewind and reset again."

Kim: "Yeah she returns again. Meanwhile between that time what was I doing. I'm participating in Call to Arms on Team Amazons. I was in a handicap match with my sister and Joanne Cannelli after being set up by the commissioner to steal Joanne's championship and got punished for it. At least I took it like a real woman. Yet I think The Hired Killers should thank her for letting us go."

Glamourous Glenda: "Because she was done using you."

Kim: "Yeah she needed us to save her ass and if that wasn't enough she needed her mob assholes to continue to save her ass.
Look what happened after she and Frostbite beat our husbands."

Glamourous Glenda: "She lost to Classic SWAT."

Kim: "Yeah and where was Suzi Spitz in all of this. Yeah rewind and reset and now she returns conveniently to the ring again. Now all she has to do is start running her mouth and making excuses about her constant disappearing and trashing me before the match. What else is new with Suzi Spitz except for her signing her name to every stupid product put in front of her."

Glamourous Glenda: "So what's going to happen tonight."

Kim: "I'm going to go out to the ring and conduct Hired Killer business and I'm going to beat Suzi Spitz. Then she can go fade back into the shadows and hopefully stay there acting like the stewing spoiled brat you are. Maybe she'll stay and maybe she'll once again fade away and then convenient return as always."

Glamourous Glenda: "You know she's 'The Vicious Vixen.'"

Kim: "I could give a shit if she's 'The Savage Eating Zombie' I'm not going to back down from Suzi Spitz and I'm going to go out there tonight and show her how it feels to be embarrassed in her return to SWAT. Let's see how long she really stays in SWAT in her return and hwr excuses for leaving since she had so long to make up something that people will be suckered into believing."

Glamourous Glenda: "So you want to beat the truth out of her."

Kim: "Oh I plan on doing it Hired Killers style. Suzi can try and be as 'Vicious Vixen' as she can be but I'm going to kick her ass in the center of the ring until she's crying over getting beat by me. So I'm going to make sure she sees what happens when she leaves again. So in a matter of moments Suzi we'll see who's more of the mean girl and that girl is going to be me."

(She gets up and she puts her coat on and reholsters her Glock.)

Kim: "SWAT has the money and I got the time and in a matter of moments I'm going to make the most of it with Suzi Spits. Interview over and let's go jade."

Jade: "Let's take care of business."

(They leave the locker room.)

Glamourous Glenda: "Well back to you."

(The scene slowly fades to black.)

[frostbite]

EARLIER IN THE DAY

A beautiful day here in Palm Springs it is roughly about 7 in the morning as we see looks like a flock of seagulls and no not talking about the band either, as the sun is just coming out from behind the clouds and the water is crashing up against a huge boulder, somewhere on the many beaches here. The waves have a calming effect on anybody that happens to be maybe walking or taking an early morning jog or maybe you are on vacations and decide to get up early this morning and just take in the scenery. As the seagulls are flying over the water, we see an older gentleman wearing a white cap with a fishing hook off to the right side. He is sitting in an multiple color beach chair, as he has fishing pole in his hands as he has already cast out. The older gray gentleman is leaning back without a care in the world as the sun is beaming down on his boney pale legs. He tilts his cap over his green eyes as he is shading the sun from getting in them, as it appears he might be nodding off, but instead he reaches behind him as he opens up his blue cooler as he sticks his left hand in the icy water as he digs around in it until he pulls out a Bud Light, he pops off the top, as he shuts the cooler as he takes a couple of sips. he places the beer on top of his cooler as he leans back into the chair and enjoys himself on his little boat.

BACK ON SHORE

A lovely young short black haired lady wearing a pink tank top and matching shorts is jogging along the beach as she running so fast in her pink and white shoes that she kicking up sand everywhere, she looks out into the water as she spots the gentleman fishing as she waves at him as he returns the jester. She continues on her morning jog the young lady is drenched in so much sweat it feels as though she jumped right into the water. She has to stop for just a second as she bends over to catch her breath for a second and in the meantime with a water bottle in her right hand take a couple of sips. She eases back up as he starts on her morning run once again. Even though the sun has been just come from behind the clouds it feels hot and humid.

The young lady runs right past a couple of large gentleman who are taking a morning stroll along the beach. One individual is wearing a white tee shirt with gray sweats and brown boots, he is short brown hair is drenched in his own sweat as the humidity appears to be on the rise. The gentleman walking along the side of him is wearing a black tee shirt where is arms are as big as someone thigh, he has on black faded jeans and black boots, his short black hair is dry as bone as the heat does not seem to faze him in the least. The two continue to walk right along, as we see that it is Doomsday and Lucifer.

Doomsday.. Ah you smell that fresh air.

Lucifer.. Dude the only thing I smell is those flock of seagulls and to be quite frank they stink.

Doomsday.. First off, how in the hell are you not covered in sweat?

Lucifer.. You must remember, I grew up around the swamp life and I am use to this humid like conditions.

The two stop for a second as they watch the gentleman out on his boat trying to catch a fish but he is having no such luck, as he is not getting a bite. The guy reaches back toward his cooler as he grabs his beer aa he takes a couple more sips before placing it back on the cooler.

Lucifer.. You know my damn ribs are still sore from that spear you hit on me.

Doomsday.. How many times must I say I am sorry. I thought I had the match in the back, but they side step it and I hit you instead and yes I know you got pinned for the three count.

Lucifer.. Dude we have become quite the laughingstock in this company, we can not buy a win.

Doomsday.. We had a great chance last week we can close winning the X crown but we slipped up.

You can see the frustration about to boil over in Lucifer.

Lucifer.. Help me understand. We have been a tag team for 15 years in this sport and we have never been through a rough patch like this in your careers.

Doomsday.. I hear you and you are right. It has gotten so bad when Goth starts busting out a joke on you it is bad.

Lucifer.. What in the hell are we going to do? This is getting out of control, we need to do something because I am getting tired of becoming the butt of a lot of jokes around here.

Doomsday.. I know we are two seven foot monsters that people should fear but everybody laughs at us. Dude I have stayed of late at night thinking of different ways, and I have ran out of ideas.

The gentleman on the boat stands up, as he reels his line back in, as he sees nobody is biting, but he decides to cast out once again. he walks back over to the chair as he grabs a sit and leans back putting his cap over his eyes as he leans baxk and with the pole in his left hand just waits.

Lucifer.. I am staring to think, maybe Frostbite is right. We are noting without him?

Doomsday.. Hold on there? We have won without his help before and we will do so again. Have you forgotten, we have won those tag team titles without Frostbite. Sure we might have been in a group with him but we never needed him to win those tag team titles. What about your singles title you won? Did you need his help?

Lucifer.. We didn't.

Doomsday.. Think about it, I laid out a nice little plan for me to walk away and retire from this sport. I was going to either manage you once again in a single career or get you another partner which I had someone line up.

Lucifer does a double take.

Doomsday.. Yes, I did. You remember the team we fought back in the IXWA called Thunder and Lighting.

Lucifer... Yes I certainly those two young punks gave us fits and finally were able to beat us.

Doomsday.. Well Omar Wilson, the lighting half of that team. The kid was all over the place.

Lucifer.. Okay, but what does that have to do with these team.

Doomsday.. His partner suffered an injury that is going to keep him on the shelf for quite sometime. I do have his number. I was going to bring him in and make the two of you a team. my experience on the outside and yours in the ring, and the way he can move in that ring. the two of you would have better.

Lucifer.. Dude, I do not want another tag team partner.

Doomsday.. Satan Disciples 2.0, it would have been gold, but you begged me not to retire, so I decided to hang around and things have not change.

The gentleman out on the boat has suddenly got a bite as he feels something pulling on his line, he jumps out of his chair as he tries to quickly reel in the fish as he is pulling up and on the line as it must be a big one.

Lucifer.. Big man, we have to do something and do it fast because if we do not management is going to cast us right out the door and they always fine someone else to replace us. With this world and the state it is in, company's are laying people off, we might get that boot. This business is no exception.

Doomsday.. I hear all that you are saying, but I do not know what to do? I wanted to bring back your former manager, and you shot that down.

Lucifer.. The man stole from me, and you think I want me back around.

Doomsday.. Frostbite bought us back into the fold and that has not worked. I have given you ideas.

Lucifer.. And these ideas suck. There has to be a way.

The gentleman still trying to reel in his fish, as it appears that he has something on the line because you can see gray figure being pulled right along the water as he is getting closer to the boat.

Doomsday.. Split up?

Lucifer.. Hell no? That is not going to happen.

Doomsday.. Look later on tonight we have to step into the ring with a team that needs a win just like do. La Familiga, so we need to go out there later on and simply be the team that I know we can be and destroy them. They are going to do anything they have to do to win this match, because they need the win as much as we do. Who knows the loser just might get bounced from this company.

Lucifer.. We have got to win this match by any means necessary. We pull out the win, then what next.

Doomsday.. I do not know what to tell you. We got to win, it is that simple.

Lucifer.. We keep blowing chance after chance. I know Rally Jackson and Tuxedo Mask are the champs but we can take them I know we can.

Doomsday.. Look they are not going to be too concern about us right this minute. We can not shout to the top our lungs and demand a shot. Team Fairtex are going to want a rematch, and others. I hate to say it we are in the back of the line.

Lucifer.. Do you hear yourself talk? It sounds as you are giving up on the idea of us becoming the champs.

Doomsday begins to kick up some sand.

Doomsday.. What in the hell do you want for me to say? We got work to do. We need to win tonight, can we do it?

Lucifer.. Hell Yes. But after we beat them we need to make a statement.

Doomsday.. What do you suggest we do? Rally and Tuxedo Mask are involved in matches tonight.

Lucifer.. Go into there matches and beat the hell out of them both and make them give us a match.

Doomsday.. You really believe that idea would really work. Suppose we do such a thing, maybe it gets us a match with them but not for the titles, they do not have to do and the management is not going to let them do so. Right back at square one.

The fisherman continues to pull the fish as he gets closer to the boat, as he continues to pull away as he finally is able to get to the boat as he reaches into the water to grab the fish, it just slips out of his hand as it swims away. The fisherman is ticked off, as he can only watch the fish go on his merry way.

Lucifer.. We got to do something.

Doomsday.. What do you suggest we do. Attack them, get a match and then beg for a shot.

Lucifer.. I know that is not going to work, but we need something. We can not keep getting our asses kicked every single week.

Doomsday.. I get you big man, but we need to win first and foremost tonight.

Lucifer.. I believe you are going to do so, but we need to make an impact send these two out on a stretcher, and then go after the tag team champs.

Doomsday.. And then what? They are not going to give us a shot, I would not.

Lucifer.. There has got to be something?

Doomsday shakes his head..

Doomsday.. I do not know? What do you want to offer up something stupid like they put the titles on the line against us and we offer up our careers or in this case if we do not win then we are no longer a team.

Lucifer.. That is it my boy.

Doomsday.. Have you lost your damn mind? Now you want to finally break up the team, after I tried to get a partner before hand.

Lucifer.. Let's go for broke partner. Let's put our backs against the wall.

Doomsday shakes his head.

Doomsday.. They are not going for it. Forget the damn idea and let's worry about winning tonight match.

Lucifer.. Maybe you are right?

Doomsday.. I know I am right.

The fisherman has just put on some new bait as he cast back out into the water. He walls back over to the chair, as he lean back in it with his hat tilted over his eyes.

Doomsday.. We will get the win tonight.

Lucifer.. You know it.

The two walk along the beach, as Doomsday mumbles something under his breath.

Doomsday.. Our team for the belts? The boy has finally lost it.

The scene fades out.

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker: Tonight's first match has a very angry team in Satan's Disciples in this first match. Word is they are not happy being left out of the Cup tournament.

Andrew Fulton: Well let’s just say I heard them back stage and they plan to light up Famiglia.

Jeremy Tucker: Folks, I am just being informed we have a situation in the back.

[The camera crew is filming and its showing up on the big screen. Lucifer and Doomsday are beating down Antonio and Stefano in the back with chairs. Lucifer picks up Antonio and tosses him into a table and Doomsday slams Stefano on top of Antonio and the table cracks.]

Lucifer: Leaving us out of the cup was a huge mistake.

Jeremy Tucker: These two men are really angry but it looks like they want to still start this match as they drag the almost lifeless bodies to the ring.

Andrew Fulton: This is not the normal way these two guys handle business but I know they were pissed off, I approve.

Jeremy Tucker: They are now on the entrance ramp as the fight continues. The two Satan's Disciples are still on the attack. How is this even going to be a match?

[Both men are still on the attack as they deliver punches and slam both men down with powerbombs on the entrance ramp. The fans are cheering them on as they continue to assault both members of La Famiglia. They both are laying on the ramp as Lucifer and Doomsday trade off on who they are attacking. Another round of fist and a large leg drop across the throat.]

Andrew Fulton: They are in the ring and the bell has rung. This is officially a match.

Jeremy Tucker: The referee is trying to get one of them to go to the corner. Lucifer goes to the corner. Antonio is lying outside of the ring. Stefano is lifted up by Doomsday by the neck and the big man chokeslams him down.

Andrew Fulton: Doomsday goes for the tag and Lucifer steps in.

Jeremy Tucker: Lucifer lifts up the motionless Stefano and delivers his Fire down below. Lucifer smiles and goes for the tag and doomsday steps in. Antonio is now leaning in the corner and he takes a big kick to the face. Both Lucifer and Doomsday are in the ring. Doomsday device!

Andrew Futlon: Doomsday goes for the cover…

…………1

…………………..2

…………………………..3

Jeremy Tucker: This match was doomed from the start, these two men were out for blood and they have made a point about being left off of the Anzac Cup. Big win to Satans Disciples, where does this leave La Famiglia though?

Andrew Fulton : In a world of hurt and trouble Jerry.

[Venom 🕷]

Javier: It didn’t have to be like this LD.


In the back Javier stands with his client El Combatiente standing behind him in front of the SWAT & XHF Network background. Javier looks somber, but behind him El Combatiente looks fierce. You can see that his lips are tight under the mask and he keeps slamming his fist into his other hand aggressively and a little overboard, almost comically.


Javier: In a perfect world my client would have never known how you like to be the purest of evils that there can be in the wrestling world. He wouldn’t have pegged you as someone unlike him. The two of you would have worked together in unison to become the greatest tag team this company has ever seen. The world is not perfect, though. Instead I am stuck with a client who has a large disdain for cheating. I hate everything about this man, but he pays my checks.


El Combatiente: You suck!


Combatiente yells while punching his hand angrily again and this time grinds it into his palm and clinches his teeth. Javier sighs.


Javier: He’s learned some new words. Listen to me closely LD. What is going to happen tonight is going to be tough for you. My boy here is really good, like really really good. He can fly, he can soar, and he can flip like no other, but I don’t want him to do this. I don’t want him to fly through the air and take your head off with a single kick. I don’t want him to flip over your head and take you down with a neck breaker. Most of all, I don’t want him to drop you on your head to end this match.


El Combatiente: BOOM! Dejarte caer sobre tu cabeza.

(Drop you on your head.)


Javier: That was well timed. Look LD. Maybe, just maybe, if you pull this off tonight I can dump this loser and join you in whatever company you are in. Don’t get me wrong I love it here in SWAT, but a new start somewhere could help me. I could unlock my true potential and be with someone like minded.


El Combatiente: No eres puro de corazón. Eres un chico malo

(You are not pure of heart. You are a bad guy.)


Javier: He’s right. You’re not pure of heart, and you are a bad guy. I too am a bad guy and not pure of heart, but that’s the reason we can’t really be together. Two negatives don’t make a positive. So two bad guys like us might just be too much bad that it would be… good? I think I’ve confused myself, but I just want you to know LD, I apologize in advance for what is going to happen to you tonight. I have to continue backing my horse. He brought me here, and even though I feel like you are my evil soulmate I need to stand by my man.


Javier walks off camera but El Combatiente stands his ground and lets out a growl.


El Combatiente: Dominicus Una vez pensé que eras un amigo, pero en realidad eras un demonio. Esta noche sacaré al diablo y seguiré el desastre que fue el Anzac Cub contigo.

(Dominicus I once thought you were a friend, but in reality you were a devil. Tonight I will take out the devil and move on from the disaster that was the Anzac Cub with you.)


With that El Combatiente walks off camera and we cut back.

[lunchboxlarry]

(The feed picks up backstage behind a determined Kirby Jackson. Dressed in his usual Tiger King themed garb, the fluorescent lights above sparkle off his hot pink themed garments and accessories. He marches down the hall, ignoring everybody he passes, and b-lines it for his locker room door. You know, the one with the Simply Speechless nametag scribbled out. The Charismatic Dragon flies through the door, throwing both arms up into the air in desperation.)

K-JAX:
BOXMAN! CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS BULLSH-

(Despite his rage, Kirby quickly realizes he’s the only one in the room. He snaps his head left, then right, and then he twists around in a full 360. A single eyebrow raises as he continues to scan the room for clues around him.)

(Then his eyes land on a letter wedged in his closed locker door. He cautiously approaches, like it could be a trap. Kirby slowly brings his hand up and snags the paper. He looks down, clears his throat, and begins to read it out loud.)

K-JAX:
Dear Kirby,

I’m sorry.

I thought a lot about what happened at the Anzac Cup Tournament. I know how much winning that trophy meant to you. I saw, despite what you wanted everyone to think, just how hard you prepped for each match. Honestly, it was inspiring. It made me bring my best against Bloodied Zen Romance. Your energy pushed me through the pain inflicted by El Combatiente and Lord D-word…

But turns out, they were all right about me.

I was too stupid to protect what was going to help propel us to the finals. Those hispanic dudes showed the Fashionistas the way. And I didn’t adapt.

Valentine and Syberus knew exactly what to do. Don’t get me wrong, bud. We still put up a hell of a fight. But no matter how much lipstick you put on a pig, it still eats swill… ya know?

I’m talking about my arm. The mighty vessel that delivers my delicious Knuckle Sammies.

How could I be so dumb? So naive, to think that I could just push through the pain and make it work?

You would’ve never been so careless, my Kirb. It meant too much to you.

So it left me wondering, did it not mean just as much to me? Or maybe I just don’t know what I’m doing?

I don’t know. I felt, maybe, it was just best for me to go back and work for my dad. Business has continued to take quite a hit for him lately. Mom’s even trying to help him cut wood!

I’m just writing you this note… because… I think it might best if I just…

Let you spread your eagle wings.

While those wings are strong enough to take you straight to the top, no doubt in my mind. They aren’t strong enough to carry a big, old lug like me around.

I’m sorry. I’m not great with words. Some of those big ones up at the beginning of this, I had to look up. I just think maybe that stupid Fox guy was right. Maybe I’m too nice for this place. And trust me, I know what “too nice” really means… It’s how girls tell you they aren’t interested without hurting your feelings. If ya didn’t know, I’m like the Mayor of Friendzone City.

But you know what hurts my feelings most of all, K?

Looking back at the tape and seeing myself grab that wrench. My folks didn’t teach me to compete like that. And I can’t forgive myself for letting the desire to win take me to that dark place.

But that’s nothing compared to that look on your face after the bell rang.

Honestly, my dude, I don’t want to ever disappoint anyone like that again. And I don’t think I can stand to see that look on your face again.

So, as much as it hurts my heart to write, I just don’t think I-

(Before Kirby can read another word, the locker room door flies open and slams the wall so hard it almost broke off its hinges. In his best Kool Aid Man impersonation, a towering figure in a black with orange trim hoodie and sweatpants bursts into the scene with his arms spread wide to his sides. Jackson, the slick git he is, hides the letter behind his back without the intruder taking notice.)

Lunchbox:
KIRB!

(Shooting his tall teammate a skeptical stare, Jackson nods to acknowledge his spoken name. Larry, clearly as flustered as ever, gets up on his tip-toes and scans the area behind Kirby; specifically, his locker.)

Lunchbox:
Hey, you didn’t happen to… ya know… notice anything weird with your locker, did ya?

(Kirby, flexing his poker skills, doesn’t give away a tell. Straightfaced, he responds.)

K-JAX:
Nope. Pretty sure I saw the cleaners leaving just before I came in, though…

(Giving his partner an out was merely a test. Larry loses a few shades of red in his face, sighs in relief, and runs a hand through his shiny, black hair.)

Lunchbox:
Aweso- I mean... huh, okay then.

(It was as cringe worthy of an attempt to cover his initial reaction as you could imagine. Larry has never played poker for actual stakes.)

Lunchbox:
So, you ready to feed these Oz guys some lunch? Maybe we can hit ‘em so hard they WISHED they were back in Kansas? Right?! You get the-

(Kirby raises an open hand to stop Larry from elaborating.)

K-JAX:
How’s the arm feeling, bud?

(Larry shakes his head and slaps his injured arm with his left hand.)

Lunchbox:
New word of the day, Kirbybird…

(Jackson rolls his eyes so hard they almost fall out of their sockets as Larry spreads his arms like the wings of an eagle.)

Lunchbox:
TORADOL!

(Larry grows a shit eating grin reaching from ear to ear. Kirby, still skeptical, shakes his head and pats the big man on his shoulder as he heads for the doorway.)

K-JAX:
Let’s do this, big guy. I hope these Wizards are hungry…

(Larry enthusiastically throws a closed fist into the air in front of him. It causes him to wince, for a split second, but he makes sure to throw the smile back on as soon as Kirby threw him a glance over his shoulder.)

Lunchbox:
Knuckle Sandwich time!

(Cut.)

[Justin]

Getting home from Australia had been a bigger pain in the ass than it had any right to be. Customs was a hassle, the flight was a nightmare, Larry’s snoring was the eleventh biblical fucking plague…

And do not get me started on that shrew of a lady sitting behind us and her screaming hellspawn of a toddler. If that little snot-nosed prick had kicked the back of my seat one more time I swear I’d have committed a hate crime over international waters!

Oh, then I get back and OH YEAH GLOBAL PANDEMIC.

I wanna do the right thing, ya know? But then some snot-nosed kid at the mall tells me I can’t go to Forever 21 unless I’m wearing a mask? And not for nothing, I don’t really mind the mask, but this little brat had his UNDER HIS NOSE! Is that what we’re doing now? And then he tells me that the store would be happy to provide me with a mask and proceeds to hand me one with his bare hands out of a box that he’d been fingerblasting all day long.

NOPE!

That’s not how the Charisma Kid rolls.

I figured out pretty quick that in public was absolutely not where I needed to be. Maybe if Larry had been there to distract the mongoloids it would have been bearable, but as it stood I was going out of my mind in a goddamn hurry.

And then there was SWAT.

Things had been pretty damn good so far. Larry and were smashing teams left and right until we came up against a brick wall called The Stylistics in the semi-finals of the Anzac Cup. Shit, I ain’t even mad we lost to those guys! Syb and Jonnie are the real deal, naw’mean?

Then I got to the building and caught a whiff o’ the lineup.

Battleground #27

Mama Said Knock You Out!

Lunchbox Larry and K-Jax, the breakout performers of SWAT’s biggest annual tournament, two guys that by all means never should have made it past the first round and somehow managed to defy the odds and damn near make it to the finals…

Against The O-Z?

Are we being serious right now?

I don’t wanna be “that guy” but seriously, I’ve been here a few weeks now and I’ve never heard of these guys! And not in that I’m new and nobody’s ever heard of me kind of way, either. I mean like I haven’t seen them around the lockerrooms at any of the shows or on any flights or at any hotels…

Or, you know, in a match.

They’re supposed to be a tag team, right?

Didn’t we just have a tag team tournament?

What happened, their invitation got lost in the post? How are you on the tag team roster of a promotion with a tag team tournament and you don’t make it into the tournament? That’s like… Fuck, I dunno what it’s like but is smells like weak sauce if you ask me!

Still not wanting to be “that guy” I looked ‘em up, as any diligent performer would. If we’ve taught SWAT anything it’s not to go underestimating somebody just because you’ve never heard of ‘em, am I right?

Of course I am.

So I looked ‘em up, and what do I find? TJ Zousa and Brien O. Thompson.

. . .

Yeah, I know, right?

A couple of geeks in their mid-to-late thirties that never made a splash in the business when they had the chance and then after like seven career-ending injuries between the two of them they’re making their big comeback by being the antithesis of relevant and missing the most important event of the year?

Needless to say, I’m not impressed.

We got a dancing fool and a soccer dork cosplaying as wrestlers, and it’s my job to pull a decent match out of ‘em so I don’t get my own ass booed out of the building! Maybe I should just lay back and Larry hand out a few gourmet Knuckle Sammies on these guys.

Speaking.

Of.

LARRY.

What in the entire fuck, my guy? You were gonna just quit on me? How am I supposed to take that? I mean, ya didn’t, but ya goddamn well thought about it and as far as I’m concerned ya got one foot out the door before you realized that I’d have tracked your big ass back to Maine and shoved my flip-flop up your ass in front of Mom, Dad, Aunt Seamus, and anybody else in Portland #2 that matters!

That shit don’t play, homie.

If I’m being perfectly honest I’m at a complete loss. And now I’ve got to go out there and play like nothing’s wrong and try to whip these losers while I ain’t sure if my so-called partner’s heart is even in it. That’s a scary thought, ya know? What happens if Larry’s not there when I need him?

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Something’s gonna have to change if I’m gonna keep my head connected to my shoulders in SWAT! Either I’m gonna have to pull Larry outta this funk, or I’m gonna have to do what he said in that letter and spread my wings and fly.

Or.

Both?

I mean, why not?

Right?

One of Zoran Sainovic’s head-setted minions shook me out of my own little world and back to reality. “You guys are on next.”

“Yeah,” I answered, taking a quick glance around the gorilla area. There were producers, agents, and a couple of Event Staff types milling about. Larry stood opposite of me, stretching, pounding a one fist into the other catcher’s mitt of a hand, and being all around Lunchbox Larry-like.

I still couldn’t read him.

Well, that’s not exactly true. I could tell he was full of all the way relieved to find out that I hadn’t read that note of his, and scared shitless of what may have happened if I did. But that’s just Larry being Larry, he can’t help it and he can’t help but wear it on his sleeve just like everything else.

I bounced around, trying to get myself a little loose before the match. Try as I might I couldn’t put that note out of my head. I knew going out there like this was dangerous. I knew anything could happen out there and I needed to know I could trust the big lug.

Time was running out.

Looks like one way or the other, I was just about to find out.

[mosler]

{The audience pelt the ring with trash.}

{The commissioner speaks.}

Zoran Sainovic: What do we think of tonight’s line-up?

{A rancid tomato almost hits Sainovic’s loafer. He kicks it back. It would be nice to think that the small child he caught in the face was the original thrower.}

Zoran Sainovic: Anthony Caffrey defends his X*Crown against Hayden Callahan and La Fey. Now ze announcers would have you believe zat zis was me setting La Fey up to be double teamed into oblivion. Nothing could be further from ze truth...

Ze problem is zat ze quality of talent in SWAT makes it very difficult to provide Caffrey with a convincing challenger for a one on one contest. Matei is a shadow of his former self, with zero interest in inter-promotional titles. Valentine is so caught up in pandering to ze audience zat he’s more of a novelty act zan viable zreat. Syberus has his own championship to worry about. ...And ze rest?

<shakes head> I almost regret BRINGING ze fabulous X*Crown to SWAT.

You people really don’t deserve it. <cringe> Hell, you don’t even deserve Caffrey for zat matter.

How to create matches WORTHY of Caffrey’s X*Crown reign? Well, his tag match against SWAT Classic was ze most competitive contest of ze Anzac, so lets start zere! Why not a four corner match? ...Because we already had a multi-man cluster fuck at ze Anzac, ze goal is to subtract participants until we actually have a singles challenger worthy of it. Besides, after ze way La Fey threw Matei under ze bus at ze end of ze Anzac, I wouldn’t want to risk having zem in ze same ring. Zat broken neck might stick.

I could have put Linda against Caffrey in a singles match... <eyes narrow> but to quote Public Enemy, DON’T BELIEVE ZE HYPE.

She is very good at grandstanding and cutting show ending speeches zat suggest preferential treatment, but ze moment she actually has to compete against anyone of worth? I zink we ALL saw zat broken down sad sack Matei CARRY her ass to ze tournament finals, only to make ze fatal mistake of leaving her alone in ze ring with Syberus for a minute. Lets chalk zat lapse in judgement up to brain trauma.

La Fey can’t beat Caffrey. Callahan can’t beat Caffrey. Put them both in ze match, however, and zings heat up.

Even zough the announcers like pimping ze virtues of La Fey to ze degree zat it sounded like marketing was feeding zem lines, Anthony Caffrey would NOT double team her into oblivion. He doesn’t need to. He is a superior wrestler, and even if he wasn’t honourable – which he is outside of rumbles – his ego wouldn’t allow him to double team a woman to pick up ze win. Avoiding zat scenario – zat PR nightmare - adds a sense of psychology zat ze defense desperately needs.

At ze same time, Callahan almost let Caffrey down as badly as La Fey let down Matei. Ze reason Valentine picked up ze cup? He had ze better quality of sidekick. Leaving ze quarter finals on ze eve of his big rumble win? I’m sure Caffrey regrets it almost as much as screwing me over for ze strap. <aside> Cries himself to sleep. <back> Zis also allows him to get revenge on Callahan for ze loss, while avoiding a singles encounter – because, lets face it, Callahan hasn’t done enough to headline a show.

Lets not let ze announcers cheapen it. On paper? Zis zree-way-dance is actually interesting.

SWAT sure is going to miss my out of the box booking when I finally quit it in disgust.

So you see zere is a sound logic behind our main event, and ze announcer’s suggestion zat tonight is revenge? Zat is a joke.

I do appreciate how much our villainous commentator Andrew now respects La Fey, though. For her to get to ze finals based only on ze merits of her better half, get herself pinned in a singles effort, zen throw her partner under ze bus while distracting from ze winner’s victory to let ze audience know zat “the better team” won? Zat was so ARROGANT as to be a full blown heel turn.

{Sainovic rubs his temple, feeling a migraine coming on just thinking about that asinine speech.}

Zoran Sainovic: As management, it is difficult to wrestle matches with MY employees. Zere is always ze zought zat I will be bias, or zey are taking it easy on me because of my influence. It is also difficult to have frank discussions about skills.

So if an employee starts petitioning me for a feud, it is hard to tactfully say...

LINDA, I’m one of the top draws in ze entire XHF, while you are ze second best Amazon in a division of two.

{Burn.}

Zoran Sainovic: I guess what I’m trying to say is...

CALL TO ARMS.

An XHF sanctioned event means zat I am not calling ze shots. Ze referees are not in my back pocket, and I can’t just make up ze rules as I go along. Zrough some twist of fate my team is taking on Linda’s in ze first round.

Neutral territory.

A fair match.

And unless she WINS ze X*Crown tonight, Call To Arms will be ze ONLY time you will ever see the two of us in a ring.

A team I assembled based on talent versus one she assembled based on ovaries.

Representing our respective ideologies. What better way to settle a final conflict?

To use her words and zinking, I’m sure ze BETTER TEAM will win.

So if you’ve been following Linda’s one-sided feud, you finally get a chance to see ze blow off.

After I’ve exposed her as ze talentless token female she is – La Fey can take up her missing cheque with ze people who authorized ze No Man’s Land tournament, Joanne for ripping it up, or her pals in accounting for not reissuing ze cheque in non-novelty form. What fucking world does she live in?

As for me? I had nothing to do with zat bullshit – and zis is me saying I will have nothing more to do with HER bullshit.

Good luck with ze X*Crown, bitch.

{Beat.}

Zoran Sainovic: We also have a title fight that I have NOTHING to do with. Goth versus Jones. So soon after Goth’s multiple failed efforts against ze X*Crown, I would have slow burned it and built him up some more... ze two of zem agreed to it, and I’d hate to turn zem into liars. They have little else going for zem.

Now you might ask yourselves – Zoran Sainovic versus Death Trap.

Zat is a match worthy of headlining ANY PAY PER VIEW IN ZE XHF. We have been teasing zis match since January. Ze hype is zere! To finally put on zis dream encounter, only to have it as ze undercard to two lame duck title defences, what gives?

{Uh oh, he’s starting to make more sense.}

Zoran Sainovic: I could tell you zat I am hoping our match of ze year contender SHAMES ze world and X*Crown champions into having better quality matches zat are worthy of zeir gold.

Sadly as good as Caffrey is, he isn’t a miracle worker.

I could tell you zat ze placement is to show how MCCW is beneath us – zat zeir top guy with our top draw is only ze top of ze card.

Zat sounds like ze kind of insult zat I’d pay Death Trap, very cerebral, but who am I kidding? Even I couldn’t justify zat. We are SO MUCH BETTER zan Jones, La Fey, Goth and Callahan... it takes on ze qualities of a french farce.

Ze simple truth is, for all my booking powers – zere are contracts in place zat give ze X*Crown and world title preferential card placement. Now, I have my legal team working on ways to remove zese {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} restrictions, but if zey can’t? I may be forced to relinquish my position in ze company. I will not be accused of abusing my power if I am unable to abuse my power.

After all, what good is being ze best if you need a belt to avoid people taking you for granted?

{Shaking his head in disgust, Zoran starts to exit.}

Zoran Sainovic: Speaking of titles, since I’d have to have Caffrey defend his title in a battle royal on ze next Battleground to make it look realistic, instead I’ve decided to make my encounter with Death Trap for a title shot at ze crown.

I know I could just make myself ze challenger at ANY TIME, but I figured I’d zrow Death Trap a bone...

After all, working ze undercard for Jones or Le Fay?

I wouldn’t wish zat indignity on my worst enemy.

Sorry Trap my boy, <shrug> SWAT happens.

{The audience continue to throw trash as a bored looking commissioner takes his leave.}

[SWAT Team]

(Something more than "Dancing Fool" by Frank Zappa pumps over the PA. Pyros explode. TJ Zousa jumps through the curtains, busting moves for the audience in sync to the tune. Brien O. Thomas is already in the ring.)

Frank Salazar: Introducing first, at a combined weight of 474 pounds.... TJ Zousa and Brien O. Thomas...... The................. O.............. Z!!!!!![

And introducing their opponents .... Standing at six foot four and weighing in at two hundred and ninety-seven pounds..



Lunchbox Larry steps out from behind the curtain, laser focused on the ring as soon as it's in sight. He raises up a fist and runs down the ramp.



Frank Salazar: LUNCHBOX.... LAAAARRRYYY!!!!!



[Larry brings down the arm as he nears the ring and jump slides in. The big man performs a quick push-up and pops up onto his feet. He runs to the nearest corner, jumps up the turnbuckle, and raises a fist to the crowd. It should be noted, this whole time he has yet to actually look at that crowd.



He jumps down, runs to the opposite corner, jumps up on the turnbuckle, and raises his fist again. Head still lowered.



The fans, understanding his weird, cheer him on regardless.]

Frank Salazar: And introducing his tag team partner, from Austin, Texas, he is 6 feet tall and weighs 206 pounds..... K................ JAX!!!!!!!!!!!![/b]

[The bell rings to start the match.]

Jeremy Tucker: Lunchbox Larry and TJ Zousa starting off with a lockup. Zousa doesn't seem interested in any of that and immediately puts a thumb to the eye. He backs Larry into the corner. Attempts a punch, but it’s blocked! And countered! Hands! Forearms! He has Zousa reeling.

[Zousa drops down and rolls outside of the ring to regroup. As he thinks Larry has his back turned, he rolls into the ring but is met with a giant boot as the crowd erupts.]

Andrew Fulton: TJ Zousa reminds me of the guy that will work in a soft serve ice cream shop...

Jeremy Tucker: Perhaps prematurely got back to his feet from that big boot and is met with a clothesline that about takes his head off.

Andrew Fulton: .... and uses his hands to put on the toppings.

Jeremy Tucker: He rolls back to the outside. Slides back in at his corner and tags in Brien O. Thomas.

Andrew Fulton: .... and doesn't use any gloves.

Jeremy Tucker: Ok enough, we have some action going on here. Zousa did not have a whole lot of luck. Let's see if Thomas has any more. He reaches in for a wristlock and tries to pick Larry up for a suplex.... not even close! Lunchbox Larry powers out and reverses to a wristlock of his own!!

[Brien O. Thomas begins begging and pleading Larry to let go.]

Andrew Fulton: This is getting awkward.

Jeremy Tucker: Larry tags in K-Jax who lands a series of chops as Larry releases the wristlock.

Andrew Fulton: I choppy choppy your pee pee.

Jeremy Tucker: Deadly onslaught of elbows now. He goes behind. Perfect german suplex!

Andrew Fulton: The kind of german suplex that would make Hitler proud.

Jeremy Tucker: As Thomas reaches his feet he is met right away with a vicious ddt.

Andrew Fulton: Wasn't K-Jax the movie about the paedophile who said he was from outer space? But it turned out he was Kaiser Soze the entire time.

Jeremy Tucker: You have to empathize with Brien a little. First football then wrestling, every time he is about to catch his break he gets hit by a car. K-Jax tags Larry as he heads to the top rope. Flying Asshole!

[K-Jax does a butt first splash onto Brien O. Thomas then rolls to the outside.]

Andrew Fulton: Football huh? He looks like the type of guy that would play for the New York Jets.

Jeremy Tucker: Larry bounces off the ropes and lands a huge shoulder tackle to the helpless Brien O. He begins to go for the pin, but lifts him up!

[Lunchbox Larry asks Zousa if he wants to be tagged back in, but Zousa shakes his head "no."]

Andrew Fulton: I think TJ Zousa wants to save his energy for contaminating frozen yogurt at his other job later.

Jeremy Tucker: Larry continues to lift Thomas up and drops him in a guerilla press slam! What a great show of force!

Andrew Fulton: Brien O. Thomas won't be going to the Super Bowl anytime soon, that's for sure.

Jeremy Tucker: Larry pumping up his fist now and showing the entire crowd. The are going electric! They know what's coming.

Andrew Fulton: It's days like this that Brien wishes one of those cars just put him out of his misery.

Jeremy Tucker: Wait, he's fighting back with lefts and rights! But they have almost no effect on Lunchbox Larry! He is just absorbing all the shots.

Andrew Fulton: It's almost as if he's a He-Man Lunchbox!

Jeremy Tucker: Superman punch! He calls that a knuckle sandwich!

Andrew Fulton: Brien Thomas is so wishing he was underneath that taxi's tire right now! Would feel much more pleasant!

Jeremy Tucker: They are not done. Larry tags in K-Jax for what can only be a curtain call.

Andrew Fulton: What did he do to deserve this? Bring his lunch on a brown paper bag?

[K-Jax lands a spinning kick.]

Jeremy Tucker: The Kirby Krackle!!! 1................................... 2.................

[Tj Zousa runs in like he's going to break up the count, but takes one look at Lunchbox Larry and says forget about it.]

Jeremy Tucker: 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's all over!!!!

Frank Salazar: Here are your winners.................. Lunchbox Larry......... and K-Jax!!!!!!

Andrew Fulton: It looks like Brien O. Thomas just got hit by a train this time. And that train was Lunchbox Larry and the guy from "Pay It Foward!"

["Old Town Maine" by Lucas Deely comes back on and the crowd erupts as Larry and K-Jax celebrated and leave the ring. Brien O. Thomas gets dragged out by his feet by TJ Zousa then helped to the back by officials.]

[suzispitz]

"You can have the past, 'cause I'm in love with the future." ~ Veruca Salt ~

SS : Ya know, Kimster, I listened to ya spinnin' your little web of delusion, and I've gotta say, I'm not only impressed, but I'm honored.

I mean, it's not often, that I get an opponent who can tell the whole world AAAaaallllll about my past with this particular promotion… and believe me, I'm glad ya paid attention, but…

The whole world already knows.

So you're wastin' your breath, girlie… and since you're talkin' outta your ass about the reason why I so conveniently disappeared all them times, lemme clue ya in on a little somethin'…

I debuted here about four years ago, got thrown in a title match as soon as I walked through the door, against some little weirdo who couldn't have beaten a freakin' three year old, and BAM!..

I got stuck with yet another free championship.

Well, that ain't my style. A title I ain't gotta fight for isn't worth jack ta me, sister, and I got bored.

So I left.

I came back, and sh*t happened outside of my ring that was flat out overwhelming, and it made stop givin' a sh*t about anything goin' on in wrestlin', and I got bored.

So I left.

Got talked into comin' back again, too soon, I beat up everybody's favorite nobody… heh-heh… I beat that bitch up twice… took her title, then I proceeded ta smack around every other champion in S.W.A.T., to become the World Champ, myself…

But, I guess I just don't care about titles, 'cause I got bored.

So I left.

Now, here I am.

Back again, on super short notice, due to my own lack of whatever it is that makes people pay attention to what they're lookin' at.

Don't bore me with all this crap about things I already did.

I honestly couldn't care less about it.

Things are different now.

I'm sick of talkin' about how I'm gonna win week, after week, no matter where I go.

See you in the ring.

[SWAT Team]

[We see a taxi cab pull into the arena and park in the garage, out steps wrestler slash taxi driver Rajiv Khan. His shirt is half untucked and dirty and he is unshaven.]

Rajiv Khan : So last week at the Anzac Cup i lost my SWAT India Title to our Commissioner. This is typical of the way i have been misused and miss handled here in SWAT from the get go.

They even took my pride and joy Sabu from me and shipped him back off to India. Some gibberish about it not being safe for the fans to have an elephant running around the arena’s, AND Zoran pulling the budget on his travel expenses.

Well, enjoy that belt Zoran, and all the other trash titles you are running around accumulating, they don’t impress me, or anyone else.

Samuel Blackstone! You don’t impress me either. You are a vulgar despicable person, the type of scum i wouldn’t let come within a ten foot pole of my taxi cab.

You are what is wrong with this great country i immigrated too. No respect, no values. No work ethic. Tonight, I will show you what work ethic and values are all about! I will beat some respect into you myself!

Blackstone, prepare for the beating of your life, at the hands of the one and only Rajiv Khan!

[Mongo the Destroyer]

*The camera moves to a room in the back somewhere. Lord Dominicus stands in front of a presentation display easel with a large paper pad on it that will likely display something as he pulls the pages back. However, he’s currently distracted by something off camera.*

LD: What? They already cut a promo? Was it anything important? I doubt it anyway. Sure, sure, you can fill me in on the details later.

*He clears his throat and looks at the camera, a pointing stick in his hand.*

LD: Hello again SWAT, and more importantly, El Combatiente- Uhh….you’re really cool manager will have to translate this I suppose. You see, we did alright during the ANZAC Cup- alright, not great. But don’t worry. I’ve thought long and hard about it and I think I’ve come to realize what the problem is.

*He points to the camera.*

LD: You’re not evil enough. Oh sure, you aspire to the ways of darkness, but you’re still a novice while I am a master. So I thought today I’d give you a lesson in villainy in hopes that once this match of ours is over you may continue on your dark path to full evilness and we may once again be reunited in destruction. We’ll take it easy today and look at one of the easier aspects of CRUSHING THE SPIRITS OF YOUR ENEMIES….

*Calmly, he reaches over and flips over the first sheet of paper to reveal…*

LD: …Branding! Yes, even we humble DESTROYERS OF GOOD must properly brand ourselves. Take your name for example, “El Combatiente.” Now I don’t know Spanish but I’m going to assume that means “The Combatant.” That’s a stupid and generic name. Instead, why not something more evil like “Combatiente….”

*He pulls out his phone and punches at it a few times with his fingers*

LD:….Hmm, well I can’t say this version. Oh ok, “Combatiente Negra!” Yeah! Much cooler right? Because right now the FOOLISH PEONS watching might think that with your current costume setup you’re very uh…

*He types a little more*

LD: …Blanco. Oh, didn’t that Caribbean guy call the main character of Prison Break that for like all of season three? Do you want the good guy’s nickname on you? No, don’t be…

*Dominicus checks just to make sure.*

LD: Blanco. Don’t be blanco- be negra! Next up, let’s look at our team.

*Lord Dominicus flips back the next piece of paper to reveal “Maski Bois” (which is crossed out) and under that “DDD”.*

LD: So we didn’t have an official name for our TEAM UP OF EVIL- however the internet started referring to us as the “Maski Bois.” Although this reminds us of the EVIL POP TUNE “Sk8er Boi”- that’s not really the image we want to portray. I don’t believe either of us skate for one and neither of us have dumped a skater only for him to later hook up famous people and be famous himself- that’s a weird song now that I say it out loud.

*He shakes his head.*

LD: THE POINT IS, we should have branded better, but had been held back by the language barrier and the speed at which we needed to prepare for the tournament. What I suggest instead is TRIPLE D!

*For the first time he actually uses the pointing stick and underlines DDD with it.*

LD: See, a “team” is something that by definition lends itself to the implication of working together and cooperation. And although I guess by nature we need to do those things, we don’t want the IDIOTS WHO WATCH to think we’re friendly. No no, we need a stronger term: DUO! So this is what I propose for our feature duo-ups- I’m assuming that whatever you probably rambled on in Spanish was your deep desire to get a second chance, I’ll watch it after our match- The Dastardly Duo of Destruction!

*He leans to the camera.*

LD: Has a nice ring to it, right? Now tonight I’m going to give you a more personal lesson in the ring. I’ll be teaching you the DARKEST OF TACTICS as I do what I can to CRUSH YOUR VIBRANT SPIRIT and help you to better adjust to the NEGRA LIFE so to speak.

*Dominicus rests the pointer stick in his hand as he approaches the camera.*

LD: This has been a simple lesson, but I hope that you’ll keep it all in mind after tonight when I pin you and teach you that you need to focus your dark emotions better so that we can be the winning-est of villains in the XHF Network!

*He looks off camera.*

LD: Why…why are you laughing? ANYWAY CUT THE CAMERA!

*The camera cuts.*