Meta-Wrestling Society

Eidenhoek · October 2, 2012

Hello everyone. I believe it is October, yes? A perfect time, then, for a diary anew.

This will be a world wherein the humor is not always on the surface. Instead, merely understand that this is professional wrestling. We have quite the amusing set of rules, no? Fighting solves everything, kayfabe in a real world, all sorts of fun little experiences that are sometimes mocked, sometimes ignored.

Remember this, as you purvey our shows: if at first you do not laugh, think about the situation itself. Perhaps we are mocking the institution itself, rather than the men who take part in it. We are meta-humor driven. Laughing at the laughter, if you will. Or the seriousness.

Enjoy, dear friends.

Oh, and SWF is going to be modified quite a bit to remain in business with this rather odd sort of company.

BHK1978 · October 2, 2012

If BSS is not the world champion, we (meaning me) will riot!

crayon · October 2, 2012

Instant five stars!

Eidenhoek · October 2, 2012

SWF Elite:

SWF Shooting Star Title

Enforcer Roberts vs. John Greed vs. Paul Huntingdon vs. Squeeky McClean

SWF North American Title

Brandon James© vs. Joe Sexy

SWF World Tag Team Titles

Jack Giedroyc/Valiant© vs. Death Row vs. The Biggz Boyz vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

SWF World Heavyweight Title

Eric Eisen© vs. Steve Frehley

And a special announcement from Big Smack Scott, Angry Gilmore, Lobster Warrior, Jack Bruce, Remo, and perhaps others!

Psycho Sam · October 2, 2012

SWF Shooting Star Title

Enforcer Roberts vs. John Greed vs. Paul Huntingdon vs. Squeeky McClean

SWF North American Title

Brandon James© vs. Joe Sexy

SWF World Tag Team Titles

Jack Giedroyc/Valiant© vs. Death Row vs. The Biggz Boyz vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

SWF World Heavyweight Title

Eric Eisen© vs. Steve Frehley

Timber · October 2, 2012

SWF Elite:

SWF Shooting Star Title

Enforcer Roberts vs. John Greed vs. Paul Huntingdon vs. Squeeky McClean

SWF North American Title

Brandon James© vs. Joe Sexy

SWF World Tag Team Titles

Jack Giedroyc/Valiant© vs. Death Row vs. The Biggz Boyz vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

SWF World Heavyweight Title

Eric Eisen© vs. Steve Frehley

BHK1978 · October 2, 2012

SWF Shooting Star Title

Enforcer Roberts vs. John Greed vs. Paul Huntingdon vs. Squeeky McClean

SWF North American Title

Brandon James© vs. Joe Sexy

SWF World Tag Team Titles

Jack Giedroyc/Valiant© vs. Death Row vs. The Biggz Boyz vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

Death Row FTW!

SWF World Heavyweight Title

Eric Eisen© vs. Steve Frehley

Charasmatic Enigma · October 2, 2012

SWF Shooting Star Title

Enforcer Roberts vs. John Greed vs. Paul Huntingdon vs. Squeeky McClean

Because he sticks out like a sore thumb in a Shooting Star Title match

SWF North American Title

Brandon James© vs. Joe Sexy

SWF World Tag Team Titles

Jack Giedroyc/Valiant© vs. Death Row vs. The Biggz Boyz vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

SWF World Heavyweight Title

Eric Eisen© vs. Steve Frehley

Eidenhoek · October 2, 2012

As an "out-of-character" note, SWF has 4 B shows on the air, meaning that only their monthly PPV will affect their popularity in the world. Slow growth, but I'm certainly not opposed to editing things.

Speaking of that, I will actively steal certain wrestlers from companies as I need them; I will attempt to replace that worker for them, as I do not actually want to ruin anyone. It appears the best way to replace a worker is to wait for the company to hire someone, then turn that individual into a replica of the original, stolen wrestler. So yeah, when Ron Greenhorn starts getting A* matches, now you know.

On that note, two people should be joining us soon that should not.

On another note, I am about...3/7 or so of the way through the show. Wait, I can be more precise...Ah, 6/18 which is 1/3. Oh. So far I have only written one of the scheduled matches. Heh.

Eidenhoek · October 3, 2012

SWF Elite opens the pre-show with a blistering matchup of Gregory Black versus Marc DuBois. No shenanigans; it's merely a solid match against a solid competitor and an upcoming talent. Showcasing both their skills, the crowd gets fairly into the ringwork, ropes being used for springboard attacks and some wicked suplexes shake the ring. DuBois falls late, and the fans are left cheering what is likely to be the only legitimate outing on the show. And it's not even on the show.

Starting our show, the UCR Women's Championship has been revealed as purchased by the SWF. Ana Garcia notes that SWF is looking to create a credible women's division, to eventually run all other companies out of business by showcasing the best women's wrestling in the world. Peter Michaels announces the competitors: Hannah Potter, BJ O'Neill, and Dawn The Cheerleader. Fry notes that this is an elimination strip match, with the goal being to remain the only woman clothed at the end of the match. Garcia corrects him; it is to be the only woman not clad just in her bra and panties that will be the winner. This company is a proper wrestling company, after all, and not some pornographic brothel.

Hannah Potter is, curiously, clad in Princess Leia's iconic bikini. Fry notes the pros of that outfit; as there is little to grab, she has a decent chance of outlasting her opposition. Michaels counters, however, with the fact that by having less clothing, it would take less time to remove her clothes. Ergo, a faster loss. Garcia sides with Michaels, stating that women's wrestling is a match of careful decisions, and Potter might have already lost before she stepped onto the stage.

While this conversation continues, Dawn has led the crowd in a most excellent cheer, complete with a limber splits. O'Neill helps her up, taking the pom poms Dawn was using and-unintentionally, taking off Dawn's top. The crowd is pleased.

With the first article of clothing removed, the match heats up quickly. Dawn shoves O'Neill, whose pin-up girl outfit flutters with the movement. Dawn immediately hits a Thesz press on BJ, tearing off her top to leave the two women's bras in close proximity as their torsos roughly rest on each other. Meanwhile, Potter takes this opportunity to grab BJ's shorts and Dawn's skirt, tearing them off in one triumphant grasp. As the bell rings, Garcia congratulates the new Women's champion, making note of her strategy of letting her two competitors get weakened first before pouncing on the attack.

"True," replies Fry, "I could not think of a better strategy than to let two women rip off each others' clothes before jumping on them." Garcia thanks him for the compliment.

Backstage starts the first interview of the show, with Zimmy and Randy Bumfhole standing hats ajar, wife beater shirts tucked into their boxers, which easily have a few inches of room before hitting their quite baggy pants. And, note, the pants showcase their amazing huge sneakers with the tongues pulled ridiculously far out. Randy pumps his shoes up as Zimmy does the opening.

Ye-yah. It's ya boi Zimmy, A-K-A Invada Zim, A-K-A Zimbabwinner, A-K-A Bumfhole numba 1!

He holds up a finger as Randy joins him in the shot.

Now if ya waitin' for some real action, old school knock-em-out and beat-em-up robot sockin' action, look no further than-

DA BUMFHOLES!

Crowd pop in the background at their catchphrase.

Now we know, ri?

We know, ya.

We know dat dis ain't no cake in da park. We gotz da, who we got RAN-dy?

I'ma finish my boy Zimz up in hizzy: we gotz da tag team champions, Jacky Gooselegs and Valleygirl.

Hell yeah be talking 'bout dem valley girls, I'm talking smackin' dat-

He continues the ever-popular miming of smacking a woman's ass, as the crowd finishes his line.

We gotz da Deff Row, da Knuckles and Shady Kazizzle. You know what it be, dawg?

Rouf rouf! In da house, we knockin' dem chainz off da hook yo!

And den dere's the Biggz Broz. A-K-A Suck! My!

Again, the crowd finishes for him.

Brothers! Hellz yeah da crowd be poppin' am I right bro?

Yo dawg yeah you be right, this crowd be hangin' and bangin' all night! Now why don't we stop with tha jabbah, and start with da WINNIN' DAT TITLE HELLZ YEAH!

The two hi-five, chest bump, then leave the shot to a chorus of cheers.

Into another backstage area, this time a room full of bottles of various colors, women of various stages of clothinged, and, naturally, the Biggs Bart and Brett. Brett, the eldest, stops puffing his cigar and stands up, putting out the cigar in a glass of not a martini. Though it does have an umbrella. But not alcohol.

Let me hear ya say HOOOOOOOO!

The crowd, along with the women, reply. Bart stands up, full of swagger, leaning back, and yells:

I said, let me hear ya say HOOOOOOOOO!

Louder this time, and the Biggs hi-five.

Now brother, I'm talking about look at all these fine-ass honies. And no one around to please them, am I right?

He looks around. Bart looks around, then sees his brother. Looking down at himself, a lightbulb goes off-literally-above his head, and he slaps his brother in the chest. Woo!

Yo what's that, man? You know I got sensitive ni-

Yeah yeah I hear you tell the ladies that. But that's the point, bro: we can please them.

You sure?

ALL NIGHT LONG!

The crowd cheers as the Biggz do their trademark crotch chops before leaving the room.

Bart re-enters, shooting his olive into one of the women's ample cleavage. As he leaves,

I can't stop scoring, bro!

Next is not the tag match, but the North American Championship bout between Joe Sexy and Brandon James. Fry recaps their feud, noting that Sexy has scored with just about every woman in the locker room with the exception of Emma Chase. Peter notes that with an imperfect record, Joe's street cred is in jeopardy of becoming worthless. Fry agrees.

As Chase and James enter, Garcia counters with the notion that maybe Chase isn't attracted to Joe Sexy. Fry says, "Ha, yeah, like women have opinions." Garcia apologizes.

The match starts off rather well, with both brawlers doing their best to rid the opposition of their vertical stance. Duane further admonishes Garcia, saying, "See? Getting someone horizontal is the pinnacle of excellence, Garcia. If they're upright, you've lost." Ana notes the truthfulness of his statement.

As the clock winds towards a decade of minutes-Peter gets hit in the head for being overly-clever-Sexy starts to signal for his dreaded Testicular Claw. Michaels says, for those at home who have never seen him wrestle, "It's this move that makes Sexy the pinnacle of manliness."

The move hits! Brandon James is in utter agony as Joe clenches in the submission, assured of his victory by the crowd applauding his efforts. The referee raises Brandon's arm once, and it falls. Twice, and it falls. Three times, and it NO! Into the neck of Joe Sexy, and a chokeslam!

"Testicular Claw countered into a devastating chokeslam! I don't think Joe's ever been choked that hard nor slammed down so forcefully!" Michaels is worried that the challenger might be out of it. However, James falls back to the mat, exhausted after his brief burst of energy.

Emma Chase enters the ring as the referee checks on Joe, and she tries to wake Brandon up, leaning over him and lightly slapping his face. Turning around, the referee sees this and counts the pin!

Emma Chase has won the North American Championship!

"A shocking turn of events as Emma Chase takes advantage of her fallen client," quips Fry. Garcia is not so sure: "I think that was an accident; she was just checking on him." "Yeah, sure, because women are soooo empathetic to others' needs."

Regardless of who was right, Chase and James slowly make their way up the ramp, as Sexy rolls out of the ring, battered by the penultimate move.

Backstage, Brandon James and Emma Chase argue.

You took my ****ing title!

You're the one that let him get you with the Testicular Claw!

You know, I almost think you want to use that on him.

James scarcely has time to breathe before Chase kicks him hard where much damage has already been done. Before he can fall, she blasts him in the face with his old title, leaving him out cold.

When I'm with a man, Brandon, I don't use my hands.

She leaves him groaning backstage.

The tag team match starts next, with Garcia telling the fans this is one fall to a finish, with two men legal in the ring at any time. You can tag anyone at any corner, but doing so will remove you from being part of the finish.

Valiant and Giedroyc make a heroes entrance, contrasted by the distaste that the just-previous Death Row duo received from the fans. As champions, it is their prerogative to start the match. Valiant nods to Jack, and he steps in the ring.

Facing Valiant is Knuckles of Death Row, who received the bid after they took a step at the other two teams. Biggs and Bumfhole, apparently, did not want to scuffle before the match.

The bell rings, and Valiant gets whipped into Death Row's corner, where Shady K tags himself in. Before Valiant can even angrily exit the ring, K has slid onto his back, willingly allowing Knuckles to pin him. The shock move prevents anyone from breaking the referee's count, and DEATH ROW ARE YOUR NEW CHAMPIONS!

Michaels applauds the performers on a well-fought victory, citing again that strategy is the finest asset a team can hold. Fry agrees, calling for a replay of just before the match, as Death Row intimidated their opponents into letting them start. Then the finish is shown, and Fry recaps that Knuckles had to use so little effort to pin his partner, a move that might have been planned before the match.

Backstage, Rich Money walks the hallways as the crowd goes ****ing ballistic over him. Noticing a smudge on his shoes, he takes out a hundred dollar bill, wipes the smudge, then tosses the bill into the trash, continuing his way down the hall.

Next is an unscheduled match between Runaway Train and "The American Males." As their team is announced, Ana Garcia goes absolutely nuts for their entrance theme. Captain Atomic and American Machine bounce on the stage, then clap above their heads to the beat, dancing their way down the ramp and hi-fiving everyone along their way.

They get double-clotheslined when they enter the ring, and Runaway Train doesn't end the match in five seconds only because he has some difficulty keeping them down in the ring; when Atomic gets slammed, he has a tendency to fly to the floor, and Machine found himself numerous times slumped unconscious in the corner.

As Train raises his hand, the wrong theme gets played, and he rams his boot into Atomic's face as the correct theme gets queued.

Jack Bruce and Christian Faith-sorry, I can't hear myself now because of the STUPID FANS-walk backstage, chatting about things like titles or something that starts with the same letters as titles.

Suddenly!

Marat Kholov bulldozers through a wall, smashing the duo against the opposite side. Vengeance puffs into existence from a fog pellet-it lasts longer and obscures the view with a heavier smoke than a "smoke" pellet-and double chokeslams Faith and Bruce onto the concrete.

Garcia is crying buckets at the announcer's desk, calling for an ambulance even as Faith's head is slammed through the wall. "Bah god, they're killing them! They're killing the heart and soul of SWF! NO NOT THE CHAIR!" Kholov either can't hear Garcia-likely, since he's backstage-or doesn't care, as he smashes Bruce in the face, leaving an exact mold of those beautiful features in the seat.

For a few more minutes the men are brutalized, before the monsters seemingly lose interest and walk away.

Phil Roberts could have come down here in a miniskirt and low-cut top

And then there was the single greatest entrance in the history of the Shooting Star Championship. Enforcer Roberts.

Decked out in a beautiful pink tube top and skirt, Enforcer Roberts skips to the ring as nobody says anything. He blows kisses to the crowd as he steps through the ropes, shaking his butt a little beat just to tease all the men in the audience. Women in the audience. Uh...

There's an eerie silence as no one knows what the **** is going on, which is a shame. The Shooting Star title match features four brilliant performers; were it not for the fact that they-rather, Roberts-openly engage the crowd throughout, this could have easily been match of the night.

Roberts wins with an RCT on Huntingdon, notable for the variation Roberts puts on the move which shows off his ass to the camera.

Post-match--and again, the announcers have been stone-cold quiet--Roberts goes bananas in the ring, jumping up and down and skipping around the referee, planting a huge kiss on the lips as he takes the title. Mounting each of the turnbuckles, Roberts gets a weird reception from his weird antics. One would expect a veteran such as himself to know that now would not be a time to attempt to crowd surf.

He fails.

The main event up next, Michaels hypes up the fact that this is Frehley's first title shot in years. "He was a brilliant young champion, and we've all been waiting for him to return to form," he says. Garcia has other things on her mind: "And I quote, there is no way and no reason for Eric Eisen to lose the greatest belt on the planet. Were this any other man, Peter, you would be right. But Eric is the greatest champion in the history of the company and I...I...*sigh* I would willingly strip to my underwear just for him to notice me, he is so attractive. My god, Peter, Duane, I don't know if I can contain myself; it is as if god himself were doing me right now."

That last part was deadpanned. And obviously scripted. By someone.

Frehley and Eric square off, but when the bell rings, Steve bails through the ropes and goes over to the timekeeper. He picks up the championship belt, and as Eric leans over the top rope to yell at him, Steve blasts him in the face with it.

Disqualification called, Steve casually walks to the back with the belt as Eric writhes in pain in the ring. Once he gets up, he asks the referee where his belt is.

HE STOLE IT? THAT MOTHER****ER!

IF YA SMEEEEEELLLLLLL!

WAT DA SMACK!

IS COOKIN'!

OH MY GOD IT'S BIG SMACK SCOTT! IT'S THE SMACKER! IT'S THE BIG BAD SMACK DADDY! OH GODDDDDDDDD

Ana Garcia faints after her outburst. Somehow, no one questions why or how, her top floats onto the announcer's desk.

And her bra.

Whoever is sitting behind the announcer's desk has, definitely, the best seat in the house.

But digression is the better for of valor, and THE BIG SMACK IS IN THE RING!

If ya smell me, give me a yell!

It...it gets a response, so **** you.

I said, all the honeys in the house, SHOW YA ***S!

And this is why the cameras aren't running.

Wait, we're still being televised? ****.

Now then, it's time. Time for the introduction of ya lives, so quiet down as FINALLY!

They soooo be not quiet.

FINALLY! THE SMACK, HAS! COME! BACK!

to vermont to new england to my pants

TO S-DOUBLE-F!

Eh, there's a reaction, yes.

Now I'm back, and I'm not steppin' on no toes. Jacky Bruce got hisself a title, all whatever and all, and Eric "*****'s Daddy" Eisen punched himself in the balls. And that's fine, because it's not what matters to the Smack. Ladies? I think you know what matters, am I right?

Studies show that pelvic thrusting in an exaggerated manner looks really, really stupid. Studies also show that people who conduct studies die.

Now I said, the Smack is here, the Smack is back, and I realized that the Smack, he ain't given enough yet. I gotta give back to the business that gave me these guns.

Welcome to the gun show, ladies. Admission: your shirts.

And I saw myself, said, "Smack, you the baddest mother****er in the company-no, **** you Smack, you the biggest, baddest, sexiest motha****ah IN THE WHOLE. WIDE. WORLD!" Said, "Smack, you gotta find yourself one of them prodigies. Gotta find yourself some guy to teach, you be the mentor and he be the student."

No one corrects him.

Said to myself, now who in the back, Scotty, who in the back ready for Smack? And I'm not talking the bedtime games, ladies, because you all know. YOU ALLLLLLL KNOW THAT THE SMACK! He goes allllll night.

Big Smack Scott rubs himself as he girates his hips, which would look possibly worse, possibly less disturbing, were he not topless.

Said to myself, isn't there one ****er back there ain't won himself no titles? Ain't there a guy back there done nothing with his life?

And I'm not talking no bum, no **** the world I'm a ****er too. No no no, Big Smack don't play games. Aside from Who Can Take The Bra Off Those ****ies AM I RIGHT?

God **** it...

Now I find myself someone got unlimited potential. GOt a man back there who knows, who knows, that he's nothing withhout me, and everything if he could. Got a man ready, got a man willing, got a man back there who KNOWS! That this is his time. And that man is, my ****ahs, that man is...

...

THOMAS MOTHER****ING GILMORE!

Wait, what?

And...

what?

Thomas-Angry Gilmore slowly walks down the ramp. The ****? Why the **** is he timid? He's...oh **** this show I'm changing the channel.

Now Tommy, tell all these peeps who you is.

I'm Tom Gil-

IT DOESN'T MATTER WHO YOU IS!

ahahahahahaha he got youuuuuuu

Tommy, you ain't won no titles, dig?

He nods.

You ain't won no ladies, dig?

He nods.

Now the Big Smack promises-and as the ladies know, when I promise, I ****ing make it up, am I right?

STOP WITH THE ****ING POSING YOU ****!

I guaran-****-tee you'll win you a title. But first, I can fix that lack of winning some ****ies right now. Ladies?

****.

Yes.

They slink to the ring, wearing really, really tight shirts and "skirts," which by we mean "HOT MOTHER****ING **** MY PANTS ARE TOO TIGHT!"

Now this one, this here, she's my gal. Come here.

Big Smack Scott grabs Jessie around the waist and pulls her in, giving her face a tongue massage. Or kisses her, but the former's more accurate.

Oh, and once they're embraced, his hands are all up on that ass.

Eventually they break away, leaving Gilmore staring awkwardly at Kristen Pearce.

Go on now, Tommy boy; she won't bite. Unless you ask OH **** YEAH LOSE THEM TOPS!

The women go a step further; instead of just shedding their tops, leaving them clad in two little hearts placed juuuuuuuuuuust right, they also lose the skirts, leaving them in g strings.

And by "g" strings we mean "gotta lose my own pants because I'M GONNA GET LAAAAAAAID!

Kristen, go ahead and take it easy. Jessie? ****, *****, you ain't gonna walk tomorrow.

Jessie jumps onto Smack, and he catches her. There's...if you haven't seen someone grab what is essentially someone's bare ass before, I'm not going to describe it now. But they just about get it on in the ring.

Tommy? Er, 'Angry' Gilmore is treated to Kristen Pearce slowly bending down, touching her toes, then slooooowly straightening up, casually running the top of her head up his legs and through to his face.

Yeah, there's a part in between that's really important that I'm casually glossing over. If you're a guy, you know what it is. If you're a girl...uh...ask your parents.

BUT DON'T MENTION ME GOD DON'T MENTION THIS AT ALL

She slowly grabs Gilmore around the neck, then hops onto him, and they have a slower makeout session compared to Smack and Jessie's...uh...stuff.

Post-show now, and who else would send the fans home happy than Emma Chase? She spends about five minutes shooting shirts into the crowd. The front says: This shirt is from Emma Chase. The back says: Oh, sorry, she wasn't wearing it. No, this is from a shirt cannon at one of SWF's televised events. Pardon me for confusing you; I understand she is quite attractive to many people, and the idea that I had her shirt-namely, that I got to see her topless-would cause quite a bit of envy from that section of the populace. Accept my apologies; I do encourage you to head to the next televised SWF event, however, as that is the only way you have a legitimate chance to see Emma Chase topless. After all, that's why I went.

Done with the shooting, Emma puts the gun backstage and makes her way to the ring. Before she can speak, however, Joe Sexy's music plays. Turning, she sees him walk down the ramp with her title. He gets in the ring with a microphone.

Hey, everyone here want to see our new champion with her belt?

The crowd says yes.

Alright then. Now, Emma, go ahead and raise your arms, please, so that I can...oh god, that ass...hey, camera, can you-oh, we're off the air? ****. Well, hey guys go ahead and take some pictures, because ****! That ass!

Chase, smiling, turns around for the different sides of the arena, showing off her perfect ass.

Unfortunately, Joe Sexy knocks her in the face with the belt, leaving her down in the ring.

My apologies, doll. Thought you wanted this belt. Well, since you can't wear the belt, I hardly think you need to be wearing any pants, right?

Responding with passion, the crowd "apparently" wants to see Emma without her pants. Sexy does a half-bow, then obliges them.

And while I'm here, anyone think she needs her shirt?

They actually cheer, but Sexy gets the message. He strips Chase down to her rather small bra, considering her chest, and panties that could pass for a bikini. He smiles, and nods his head.

Yeah, I think I just found my new profile picture...

He takes out a camera, lays down with Chase, and smiles. With the picture taken, he looks down at the coming-to-consciousness Emma.

Dear, you are by far the best woman I have ever met in terms of what you do when you black out. But I have to be going.

For those of you who think Sexy should have stayed with the damsel in distress, fear not! IT'S THE BIG SMACK MOTHER****ERRRRRRS!!!!

Big Smack Scott swaggers out like the ****er he is, and just as he's about to speak, he spies himself one glorious hell of a bounty.

Now then, who in the blue hell, gave me this present? Who gave me a fine-ass honey all alone in the ring, no clothes on? I SAID, who gave me a lady to ****?

There's not a resounding "Joe Sexy!" from the crowd, but that's not the weird part. The bucket of water Smack has, that's kind of weird. Especially if he just now saw Chase.

Now I was coming out here, said myself, Smack, you can't just leave these folks. Gotta give them what they want, gotta give them some o' dat SMACK! And I said, yes, Mr. Smack, you is right. The Big Smack ain't here for no peasants, he's here for alllll the ladies in the stands that be poppin' out their tops, showin' me dat skin. I'm saying, you wanna hookup, follow me out the show.

Entering the ring, he crouches by Chase-who, by the way, is groggily awake. And getting conscious hella fast.

But this...looks like a honey wanted to get it on right now. Usually, I'd be saying, can't let one get in front of the other. I'm an equal-opportunity ride. It ain't first come, first served, cause I tell ya ALL DA LADIES BE SERVIN' ME UP SOME O' DAT BIG! SMACK! SCOTT!

Not so much an echo from the crowd on that, either. Chase is now sat up, staring perplexed and scared at Scotty Sinclair.

Now there pretty lady, I know you're shy, I know you can't think how to pop off dat bra. And me, I got me a cure for ALLLLLL THINGS SEXY! And that is, this:

He chucks the contents of the bucket onto Chase, who tries to block herself. She fails, horribly.

Also, it was not water. It was pudding. Apologies.

NOW IF YA WANT SOME DESSERT, COME ON BACK TO THE PLAYHOUSE MOTHER****AHHHHHHHS!

Curiously, Scott does not try to lick the popsicle that is Emma Chase. Or, rather, Emma Chase's and the show is done.

Big Roguey · October 3, 2012

My head hurts now.

Psycho Sam · October 3, 2012

Enforcer Roberts for champion

Eidenhoek · October 4, 2012

SWF Supreme TV:

Dawn the Cheerleader & BJ O'Neill vs. Enforcer Roberts & Frederique Antonio Garcia

Title Unification

Emma Chase© vs. Hannah Potter©

Honor of America Match 1

Marat Kholov vs. American Machine

SWF World Tag Team Titles

Death Row© vs. Jack Giedroyc/Robbie Retro (contractual rematch)

Honor of America Match 2

Rich Money vs. Marc DuBois

SWF World Heavyweight Title

Steve Frehley© vs. Vengeance

And a special announcement from Big Smack Scott, Angry Gilmore, Lobster Warrior, Jack Bruce, Remo, and perhaps others and/or not them!

Eidenhoek · October 6, 2012

SWF Supreme TV begins backstage, the locker room of Tommy Boy Gilmore the setting. He sits on a bench, talking softly to himself, lacing up his boots. A soft knock at the door turns both his head and the camera's view.

Hey, what's wrong?

It's Kristen Pearce. She enters the room as Tom sheepishly half-smiles, but he turns back to lacing his boots and looking forlorn.

Come on, what is a girlfriend for if it's not to make her man happy?

Kissing him on the cheek, she straightens him up and looks at his face.

Tell me. What's wrong?

It's just that I was trying to be like Big Smack Scott, right? And I know he does something around 900 reps of 600 pounds benchpressing.

On his days off.

Right well, I knew I couldn't do that, at all, so I just decided to start at a hundred pounds, right?

Okay.

And, well, I've been trying, but...

Embarrassed, Tom turns away. In the background, the camera picks up Christian Faith walking past, which gets a huge crowd pop.

I can't get it up.

Annnnnnnd Faith backs up to the doorway.

Well have you tried getting some...assistance?

Pearce starts rubbing Gilmore's shoulders as Faith looks ever more disturbed.

Y'know...yeah...I think with you...with you I could do it all night!

Tom turns around and kisses Kristen hard, leaving Faith to briskly exit the scene, telling no one.

But not first before tying a sock to the door and closing it.

~

Scene change to the locker room, possibly, of Runaway Train. He has on a conductor's hat and a model train set is on a desk in front of him.

It's a very large train set.

Choo choo! Oh no, here comes the RUNAWAY TRAIN GET OUT THE WAY YOU GONNA DIE!

Train rams his train over a schoolbus-load of children, before flying it off the tracks and into the chest of...Shane Stones?

You stoppin' my train?

What? No, I'm just-

You mockin' my train?

I don't know what you're-

TRAIN IS PAIN, *****!

And then Shane Stones was unconscious. And Train was...eh, hard to read, but perhaps happy?

~

Finally in the ring, Jessie and Kristen Pearce are clad in lacy undergarments. They have with them a bucket of whipped cream cans, and a bucket of cooking spray cans. Nobody seems to care that the two don't exactly go together.

Hey, sis, I think you got something on your lips.

Really? I was about to say the same thing.

One chooses the oil, the other chooses the whipped cream, and they coat the other in their chosen impelment, being sure to rub it in their cleavage and coat their beautiful round bottoms.

And then they makeout. Sexily.

Fun fact: The chorus is now in your head forever. FOREVER.

~~~~

The show begins! A screaming crowd of whatever-thousand, fresh off the dance of sisters Pearce, react proudly to the booming lights and pyro of the B-show. Heh.

In the ring are four women-wait, no. Recount...Dawn the Cheerleader's female, and BJ O'Neil definitely is female. Oh, right. That's Enforcer Roberts and Frederique Antonio Garcia. So two men, two women. Dawn takes a microphone.

So, "Enforcer" Roberts, you think you can take over my duties as resident cheerleader?

Roberts gets his own microphone, and replies in his normal voice with no manner of bubbliness.

Girl, you got to learn your place. You want to lead some cheers? How about you lead a cheer on them crow's feet?

The crowd laughs...sort of...-ish. Dawn's pissed, anyway, and BJ walks over to Frederique, both having received their own microphones.

Everyone knows why I'm called "BJ" O'Neil, but you?

She looks him up and down, then turns away.

Not with a ten foot straw!

Dawn and BJ high-five as the crowd roars in amusement.

I don't get it.

She turns back.

What don't you get? I'm the real deal, you're just an imitation. All the men out there wanna be with me-

The crowd agrees.

And hell, I know how to have a good time, right boys?

The crowd agrees again. At least, the lower register of the crowd.

But I wouldn't get with you if you was the last man on earth.

Oh. I suppose that is an insult, yes. My apologies.

What's that? Roberts and company want to take on the superior girls?

I...what? When did Girl, you done got youself an appointment for a new weave, 'cause this ***** plays dirty!

As Garcia looks on confused-yet dressed faaaabulously-Roberts takes the fight to Dawn, the two cheerleaders' similar outfits flying with ferocity. It's a tag match!

Dawn the Cheerleader/BJ O'Neil vs. Enforcer Roberts/Fred.Ant.Gar

More appropriately, it's an evening gown match. As per the rules, each participant must first get into an evening gown, before then attempting to get the opposition out of their evening gown.

The fact that the match has already started, in part, with Roberts and Dawn, does little to stop this; BJ and Garcia have little trouble donning themselves in rather plain dresses, and they await the referee's admonishment of the illegal partners.

With much hair-pulling, this takes some time, the referee getting caught up in the catfight and being rolled over as the duo fight for position. And then back over the lucky referee, as the crowd catcall's Dawn's short skirt.

In time, BJ and Garcia become the legal men-the legal...

Well, BJ ends up stripping Garcia and Roberts, who is ashamed and covers himself as he tries to run backstage. Tripping, he falls face-first, leaving the audience with a beautiful view of his ass under his skirt.

He's not naked under there, thankfully.

~

Backstage again, North American Emma Chase has some words for Women's Champion Hannah Potter.

Hannah, I have to give you some credit: the women's division in SWF is incredibly competitive. We aren't just pretty faces here; we aren't Angels, we're not looking for some five-star calendars; we're here to win.

A video is now played as Chase continues to speak.

The Women's Championship is the top title in the world today for women.

*Hannah Potter holding the belt after her victory on the turnbuckle*

And the North American Championship gives me some nice perks.

*Outside the door as Emma Chase takes a shower in the private, NA Champion's locker room*

But if you think I'm not going to work my hardest to take your title,

*In front of a mirror, bra-clad Emma decides between two tops for her match*

then I've got two words for you:

Back to the live feed, but Emma has changed shirts from what we saw earlier. Arms crossed in front of her chest-it's possible, I assure you-Emma smirks before uncrossing her arms and pointing at her breasts, indicating that the camera should zoom in. Chase doesn't read the two words, but the message is clear:

AVADA. KEDAVRA.

Title Unification: Emma Chase vs. Hannah Potter

Perhaps in a bitter display of irony, as Emma Chase awaits Hannah Potter, Potter walks onto the ramp clad only in her lingerie. Which is to say, not much. Chase is then informed that all the work she put into her shirt is for naught, as this is a lingerie match.

With Potter watching, smirking, from across the ring, Chase pouts before taking off her pants-to a ridiculous crowd pop-and slowly removing her shirt...

REVEALING HER BRA SAYS AVADA KEDAVRA AS WELL! BAH GOD THE TRICKERY!

Given that this has taken a few minutes, it seems appropriate that the match gets a few more ladies in the ring, in the form of interference. Jessie jumps onto Chase, taking her down, while Kristen Pearce mugs Potter from behind.

Hannah takes one of the most painful moves in the business, the dreaded snap-her-bra-really-hard, and she goes down to the mat, unmoving. Chase, meanwhile, takes one of the most painful moves in the business, the dreaded suffocation-in-Jessie's-ample-cleavage. She also falls to the mat, unmoving. And certainly the ire of every man pretty much ever.

Their foes thoroughly beaten, it seems as the referee has no choice but to throw the match out on Double Disqualification. He helps Hannah to the back, intending, probably, to get Emma Chase later. Or to have fun with Hannah. But as or Chase, by the way...

~

With Emma Chase down to her own lingerie, Jessie and Kristen have the most sinister idea in the business: strip Emma Chase.

...

Michaels: You know, I'm not going to touch that one.

Fry: DUDE I WILL!

And then Duane Fry got racked by Ana Garcia.

Point being, Emma is even more clever than we initially thought, as under her bra she has another bra, this one made of string and latex. And her panties are made of string. And maybe latex.

YAY!!!!

~

A video on the big screen:

Scenes flash of a man working out.

Copious amounts of bling.

A boom box.

A man punching someone in the face.

A freezer.

The man spraypaints the camera, which then fades in the words:

HEY SWF: ARE YOU READY?

~

The single greatest theme song in the history of our sport hits, and American Machine enters the ring ahead of his match.

You want to come to my land, Kholov, into my ring, and disrespect America? It's people like you that make me sick!

If Machine wanted to get a point across, he did so terribly. Moreso when Kholov hit a Moscow Lariat after getting in the ring as a response to the accusations.

Marat Kholov vs. American Machine

The only reason this isn't over immediately is that Kholov apparently wants to hear why Machine hates him. This takes about 4 minutes for him to wake up.

You're...an evil...foreigner...

he gasps. And then takes another lariat, and an easy pin for the Russian Giant.

~

Backstage, but making their way to the ring, a determined Jack Giedroyc is joined by none other than Robbie Retro, the king of god I want to kill him so much.

Beat up Valiant, take the titles, make me look for a new partner. Death Row, you're looking at my replacement for my rematch!

Retro...just die, please. You're the Freddy Huggins of SWF. I want you dead soooooo much. Everyone does. EVERYONE.

So you think you're so clever? Shady K, Knuckles, how about I prove how serious I am by beating you for the belts, NEXT!

A commercial would probably fit here.

Tag Team Championship: Death Row© vs. Giedroyc/Retro

The bell rings, and there's discussion from both teams as to who should start. Mainly on the face side, as Shady K quickly gets in the ring. Retro eventually draws the short straw, and they face off.

When the bell rings, K quickly punts Retro in the balls, then gets the championship belts from the timekeeper before he and Knuckles exit the ring and head backstage.

~

To the ring next is one of the most popular men in the business, Rich Money. He gets a microphone before calling out Marc DuBois.

Marc! Marc DuBois! I got an issue with you, kid, and we're going to settle it tonight. But first, I have to explain why I want to beat your ass in the ring. Go ahead and get out here, grab a microphone, and sit down in the corner. I know babies aren't supposed to go there, but I'll let you speak in a minute.

If you got that, you get a cookie.

No, seriously. As Marc makes his way to the ring, slowly, Peter Michaels informs us that going online, logging onto the official SWF website, and entering in what Money just referenced will earn you a special SWF cookie that will be sent to your house.

Or making it's a tracking cookie and your machine becomes inoperational, but the details are unclear.

DuBois, you're what's wrong with America. And don't mistake my words; America's great.

The short-lived boos turn quickly into a loud huzzah from the crowd.

What, people don't say, "Huzzah!" anymore?

America is about freedom, about the drive to succeed, about doing what you want, achieving what you want, and being who you are because that's what you've worked hard for. Look at me: I didn't come here, to the SWF, or the United States, because I wanted a free ride.

A USA chant breaks out, to the annoyance of DuBois, curiously.

I came here to work. I came here to win, and in the past...winning has been to the exception of morality. True, I took shortcuts in my path here. But I didn't, Marc, expect things to be handed to me. If I wanted to cheat, I had to cheat. If I wanted a belt, I had to take it. People didn't lie down for me, people didn't take it easy on me. People took it quite hard, actually, on me. And I only got to this position near the top because I didn't quit.

Or you paid people.

Oh snap!

If I have, Marc, it's because I've made my money. I've worked hard in and out of the ring, and I've amassed a fortune. Putting my hard-earned dollars to use is exactly what everyone does every day. We buy food to eat. We buy presents for that special girl. We will up our cars, go to work, go to sleep, all hoping for and working toward a brighter future.

And I care why?

You care because you live here, Marc. You're a lazy insignificant idiot who would rather sit in the back than fight. You'd rather sit at home collecting welfare than be gainfully employed. And it's not because you can't, Marc. You're good. Solid rookie, plenty of promise. You're not a guy who got his leg shot off. He has some difficulty finding work, and probably should be allowing to continue to live. You know, not starve, Marc. And you're not the guy who found his whole industry non-existent, forced into retirement because all those years of college, all that time and money...gone.

Behind Money, the crowd roars in praise, appreciative of his aknowledgement of their plights.

You, Marc, you could be great. You could be Christian Faith or Jack Bruce or...me, even.

Another rumble of contentment at the name drops.

But you don't try. And when America doesn't try, it gets a bad name overseas. So I'm going to beat you, Marc, because your whole lifestyle doesn't grasp how harmful it is to the world. Get ready, Marc, because the world is about to come down on you.

Rich Money vs. Marc DuBois

For all the talk, Money finds that DuBois is, at least for the moment, ready to engage in combat. "The Can't Miss Prospect," as he is called, found himself equal-or-better to Rich in any field of combat; strike-for-strike, hold-for-hold, and especially flying off the turnbuckles.

A quick spill to the outside leaves both men down, and Rich takes the opportunity, on recovery, to throw Marc into the crowd, who pelt him with things like hot dogs and apple pies. And Pepsi. Or Dr Pepper. American things.

After a bit of a rumble through the stands, during which our referee is rather lenient on the count out, action returns to the ring, wher Marc gets a quick momentum shift off of a "Soda Mist" to the face of Rich. Blinded, he cannot see the flying splash coming, and a long two count is the reward for the rookie.

Once Rich gets the pop out of his eyes, his anger leads him to victory, a massive Bank Roll culminating in Dollars from Heaven to cement him as victor.

~

The camera pans over to show Christian Faith, Jack Bruce, and Rich Money in the crowd, discussing the recent matches. All three are in snazzy suits.

~

Backstage again, to the outside of Jessie's locker room, as Big Smack Scott clad in the banana-est of hammocks-and just that, by the way-knocks on the door, holding a bucket of flowers. Jessie answers, wearing a tube top and miniskirt.

Oh, Big Smack Scott, I'm sorry for what I'm wearing.

That's true; it looks terrible. You should take it off.

Scott moves forward as Jessie smiles, and he throws the bucket-with a crash-somewhere in the room. The door closes as they start to kiss, Jessie also starting to remove her tube top.

~

SWF World Championship: Steve Frehley© vs. Vengeance

The two have found-oh, there's the disqualification, as Eric Eisen runs after Frehley even before the match started, attempting to get back the world championship belt.

Frehley rolls out of the ring, past Vengeance, grabs his belt, and books it. Frustrated, Eric takes a bit more time trying to move past the skull boned soldier, leaving the far side of the ring and giving chase through the crowd.

~~~~

Backstage, after the show, Brandon James pounds on Emma Chase's door. She doesn't open.

Dammit you ****ing whore, give me the ****ing belt!

What follows is the patented Emma Chase combo:

Door to the face

Stiletto to the crotch

Championship belt to knock the guy out

Before we try that again, James, a few things you ought to know:

She steps out of the room, looking fine-as-hell in a red dress that's fit to kill. Steps out onto his crotch, by the way, which leads him to groan. Chase bends down, looking into his eyes, and giving an absolute dream of a profile for the camera.

One: even though the target is miniscule, my kicks are accurate.

A twist of the ankle, and James's face is turning blue.

Two: I'm the champion. As such, I can only be required to face one challenge a night. And three: the door was unlocked, idiot.

She stalks off.

~

Backstage, John Greed is at a poker table with Rich Money. Money has absolutely no attention focused on the game, instead trading stocks on his portable smart whatever thing. He throws money in casually, calling or betting with complete abandon, as Greed looks focused as a tiger stalking his prey.

Come showdown, Greed flips over Jacks on nines. As he goes to scoop the table, Money turns to him, says, "Straight flush beats full house," and flips his cards, 10 high of spades. He then leaves the money as a tip.

~

Backstage, Marat Kholov is seen attempting to open a bottle of pickles. Struggling maddeningly, he is set to break the jar on his face. Before he can, Jessie takes the bottle, unscrews the lid, then hands it back to Kholov.

~

Backstage, a video shows Big Smack Scott doing a series of pushups. While the voice-over counts them out-50 in the video-there's a bit of evidence that the footage is merely looping one pushup over and over. Namely, the cut from him on the floor to him back in plank position.

Day later bonus edit: I still have POUR SOME SUGAR ON MAAAAAAAAAY in my head. Just that line. Over and over. And over.

Eidenhoek · October 7, 2012

SWF Uprising

UCR Women's Title

Hannah Potter© vs. ???

Rumor has it a queen of wrestling is set to challenge SWF's resident queen of the ring

SWF Tag Team Title

Death Row© vs. Melissa Melons/Kali Fornia

Rumor has it a third is set to debut soon to round out the hottest team this side of BSC.

SWF Shooting Star Title

Enforcer Roberts© vs. ???

Rumor has it that the man debuting-it's a man!-against Roberts is set to work his way to the top of SWF. Can he start at the bottom-and, more importantly, does he want to be on the bottom?

SWF World Championship

Steve Frehley vs. ???

Rumor has it this is the legendary wrestler.

Proof of legitimacy

Big Smack Scott vs. The Biggz Boyz and The Amazing Bumfholes

Tommy Gilmore is not part of Scott's team, because the whole point is to show Gilmore what you can do when you're the Big Smack.

Including an appearance by Buddy Garner, the MMA legend, and another legendary wrestler! Along with a message from Lobster Warrior and most probably others. And the in-ring interview by one of the greatest interviewers in the history of our sport! Their interviewee? One of the greatest old-school wrestlers in the history of our sport!

Eidenhoek · October 9, 2012

SWF Uprising opens for the live crowd with a dark room, an odd silhouette sitting in a chair. The light brightens a bit, and Lobster Warrior is seen as the man.

It is time...it is time...time to return...to the ocean...return and TAKE OVER BLUBBER BLUBBER MOTHER****ER!

In his hysteria-induced insanity, Lobster Warrior click-clacks his claws and runs about the room, turning over tables and chairs in a cavalcade of cacophony. The feed is cut-presumably, accidentally, by Lobby himself.

~~

Another video, another silhouette, a strong man, hard at work building some sort of structure. Hammer hits nail with furious intensity, muscles bulging, even in profile, as hard at work the statue grows taller. Panning out, we see the message:

I'M BACK WITH A BRAND NEW

~~~~~~~~

Pew pew pew go the pyro, ding ding ding went the bell, and SWF UPRISING IS STARTED WOOOOOOOOOO but first, yes, first up is the Women's Championship match. At the behest of the mystery challenger, Hannah Potter, the champion, enters the ring first.

The astute viewer will recognize the standard bra-and-panties-match attire: a button-up shirt tied in one of those weird loop things that somehow shows off the midriff, even though those shirts shouldn't really be made, and if they are, why the hell are you wearing long sleeves while showing your midriff?

Seriously, it's weird. Sweater-and-shorts weird. What the hell?

Ah, right, and she's got on some "booty shorts", as the vernacular is prone to calling them. Presumably because they show off the booty. Aha.

The lights dim, a spotlight slowly files up the ramp to the stage, joined by three other lights. The video screen shows a beautiful crown...

Snap snap snap...

She's a killer queen sure is accurate, as QUEEN EMILY makes her entrance! To a roar of hisses and dogcalls, Emily slowly, gracefully, walks down the ramp dressed in a red victorian dress. Alice would be proud-or rather, probably not.

Challenger and champion in the ring, the match starts!

UCR Women's Championship: Hannah Potter© vs. Queen Emily

With the goal being to disrobe one's opponent, it is hard to say which competitor has the overall advantage; Emily obviously has much more to take off, or be ripped off that is, but Potter has a huge mobility bonus.

It is this fact that allows Potter to take the initial offensive, tripping the Queen and going to work on removing the dress. Unfortunately, while she is successful in remoing the outer gown, it's clear that there's at least three or four more layers of white puffy whatever the hell that stuff is before Potter's showing off any real epidermal beauty.

To that end, Emiy mounts her comeback, flipping Potter onto her back and punching her in the face, hard. It's a bit unprofessional, maybe, but with the champion seeing stars, Emily gets her shirt undone, pulls the sleeves off-wait, not quite off. We can easily see the pink bra, as it's entirely uncovered-which, by the way, is the same for the audience's eyes-aside from the kid in the front row. Mom's suck.

Back in the ring, Queen Emily loops Hannah's shirt over the top turnbuckle at such an angle that Hannah's arms are forced backwards, leaving them flailing in the air above her back. With the champion trapped, Emily has little problem ripping off Hannah's shorts-again, to the delight of the non-kid-in-front-row-with-a-terribe-mother crowd, then pulling Hannah backward, completing the disrobement.

As Emily's song plays, and Potter, embarrassed, crawls to backstage-nice ass, by the way-Emily takes off her dress to reveal her standard, simple wrestling gear, an uninspired one-piece spandex or whatever outfit. She puts the belt around her waist and storms off.

~~

Backstage, Big Smack Scott tells Tommy and Jessie to head over to commentary for his match; Tom's there to watch real strength in action, and Jessie's there so that Smack can get some action as soon as the match is over.

And right then, as Smack grabs dat ass and gives dat mouth the dread Smack liplock. Or something.

Big Smack Scott vs. The Amazing Bumfholes and The Biggz Boyz

Peter, Jessie, and Tom enjoy the brutal defeat of everyone not Scott in the ring-including the referee. One punch knocks out all four foes, allowing Scott to go to the top rope, dropping an elbow into each man's face. Not the ref, this time, who manages to find his feet as the other four non-Scott men bleed from the face. Scott poses for the crowd as the referee declares the match victory by knockout; unfortunately for the zebra in the ring, victory equals a piledriver.

~~

A rarity in the SWF, a scaffold structure is lowered from the rafters as a set of tables two-stacked-high is built in the ring. Fry, back on commentary, notes that this is a Scaffold match for the SWF Tag Team titles. As construction-which is more moving tables and lowring wires than actual work-continues, Garcia reveals that she interviewed Death Row's opponents before the match.

Michaels cuts her off, questioning whether or not Ana interviewed them before or after the match. Unabated, Garcia notes that one participant is a former adult film star set to make her debut in the ring, while the other is one half of the "Titular Coalition". Fry asks what the hell that means. Garcia replies that it's the "Coalition with reference to the title". Fry asks what title. "The Titular one" is the response.

With the grand stylings of announcer humor, the match begins!

SWF World Tag Team Titles: Death Row© vs. Melissa Melons and Kali Fornia

Shady K and Knuckles are eager to start the match, but instead of engaging, their foes take to stripping. Which is always nice.

Fornia starts bumping and grinding with Knuckles, who looks at his partner, shrugs, and starts thrusting with the lady. Melons plays it solo, stripping down to a g-string and whatever the analog of a g-string is for a bra. As the crowd pops, Shady K unceremoniously pushes her off the scaffold and into the tables below, winning the match. He can be seen mouthing to Knuckles (who doesn't care at all, of course) that "it looks like they're real".

Knuckles takes Fornia backstage off the stair structure thing used to get down, while Shady K takes the quick route down: elbow drop on Melons. Heh heh, onto Melons's melons. Heh.

~~

Steve Frehley is in the ring before his title match, titular title (not the Titular Title, to be made later) in hand. In other hand is microphone.

Some people think that I got this here title because I'm a thief. And I gots ta say, that's a little bit racist up in here. Just cuz I march to a beat you can't hear, don't mean no thieves up in the hood. Dig?

No, I don't "dig".

omg Eric Eisen onstage!

I don't "dig" this or that, you pompous blowhard.

Hey nah, we ain't talking 'bout yo mama blowin' nobody, homes!

The audience laughs at the clever wordplay, but Eisen is clearly furious.

Shut up! You give me my title back now!

I'm afraid I can't let you do that, far stocks...

Emma Chase enters to a nice reception-it's the boobs-and breaks Eisen's hold on Frehley. She glances at the "champion," then walks past him a ways to look at Steve.

Seems to be the title's around Frehley there, and that means it's his.

The hell it does!

Possession is nine tenths the law, son!

Shut up you gang-banging nancy!

Speaking of banging-

Enough! Now listen, okay? Hey, you, hey! Listen!

Emma once again captures the focus of both men.

The way I see it, Steve must be the champion. But but wait, no, wait your turn, Eric.

**** you ***** I'm champion!

In the balls!

First, I'm North American champion. I outrank you. And second, I'm not sure who's smaller between you and Brandon James.

It is at this point no one points out "Big Cat" Brandon.

If we coudl have some civility...thank you. Since we had a title match a few days ago, one of two scenarios were at play: either no one was world champion, in which case the match determined a new champion from vacancy, or someone was world champion, in which case it was a normal championship match.

Yeah girl, I hearing you. And ****, you got yoself some fine ass curves!

I believe clinical studies have indicated my ass to be of excellent quality, not "fine." Now quiet; I'm not finished.

For once in his life, Steve lets the woman finish.

Obviously someone held the title, and seeing as how Vengeance has no claim whatsoever in these proceedings, the champion obviously is, and was, Steve Frehley.

But he stole it from me!

"Stole" is such a connoted word. Try "won."

He didn't win!

He has the title, so I'd say he did.

But you didn't win your title! Why do you get to talk!

I both won and have defended my title, little boy. And I do mean little.

The crowd does not care about the fact that Emma Chase likes little boys. Or, more accurately, kicks them in the crotch very, very hard. They do, however, like her standing up to Eric.

I won, and I got my title. Maybe Steve lost, but he has the title. And he had a title match, in which you interfered. So I don't see how you have any justifiable reason to complain at all.

BECAUSE IT'S NOT HIS ****ING-

BALLS!

If I may, I believe I am having the solution to this mystical situations.

And here's the grand star, the man everyone has waited to see: Eisaku Hoshino. Hoshino, amid grand entrance gestures and pyro-yes, with Eric on the floor and Emma onstage-walks, slowly, past the feuding duo, and enters the ring next to Frehley.

See, I am potential to becoming the Prime Minister of Japan 2012. I have learned in such times that diplomacy solution is many the way. Thereby, then, here is my plans:

Whachu talkin' 'bout, Saki?

lololol

Let me be facing Steve for the title.

No one understands how the hell that would A. help and B. make any sense whatsoever.

How the hell does that help the situation or make any sense, whatsoever, given what we all have just said?

Yeah!

Simple: I beat Steve, I have title. Eric face me, and then he has title shot. And when I win, or he, then no more talking of titles.

Why am I not in tonight's title match?

You have, how you say, no penal jurisdiction.

Read it again. Go on...eh? No, did you catch it? I mean do you get-oh **** it it was clever. One more time...there. Yep, that's what I did there. Real cool, I think.

He has a point. Eric, you've interfered too much in Frehley's affairs. When Eisaku beats him-

IF motha****ah IF he beats me!

-you get a shot, free from all this controversy. You win? Great. You're the champion. You lose? Great. No one cares about you ever again.

...Know what? **** it, go ahead Eesaka.

SWF World Heavyweight Title: Steve Frehley© vs. Eisaku Hoshino

As he may have mentioned, though not well, Eisaku Hoshino is a big deal in Japan. In the USA? Not so much. Frehley's the opposite. And given where the match took place, the finish was obvious.

HOSHINO DRIVER WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!

~~

To the stage once more the camera goes, this time as Bryan Holmes debuts for the first time in the SWF and the second time in the USA. Appreciating the warm crowd reception, Bryan waits a moment before bringing his microphone up and, slowly, speaking.

I thank you, all of you, for that introduction. It's been a long time since I was in the States, not since that one company shut down. And in my time in Japan, where I moved once job opportunities changed, I've done quite well for myself. Won some titles.

Crowd pop.

Won titles there, won them here, but not, specifically, in the SWF. Not in the biggest, most important company in the world.

If the crowd likes titles, they sure as hell like references to companies in whose stands-temporarily, more rented-they are currently sitting.

I came here to prove myself in a new environment, a bigger environment. While you know me, while I've proven myself talented, that only gets me so far. I can't expect to get a world title shot on my debut; I have to work through the company just like anyone else.

Bryan smirks.

Just, hopefully, I get a bit of a head start.

Again, warm reception for the DaVE-turned-PGHW wrestler.

Because I have to start on the bottom, I begin with the lowest title in the company. The Shooting Star Title. So, Roberts, get out here. You think we can tear the house down?

Roberts' music hits, and it's back to the old Enforcer theme, when he was a Machine or Bodyguard or something. The serious-faced technician has a microphone from the back, and he stands about two feet from Holmes.

Ain't no one here but you an' me, bub. You wanna go? Let's go.

Huge, huge response fromt he match made, apparently, in heaven.

Let's go, Roberts. But not just Enforcer versus Bryan, oh no. Something bigger, something better. You, me, the title, submission match!

Again, ridiculous noise from the stands, but Roberts holds up a finger.

You. Me. Ultimate Submission, 60 minutes.

That would finish out the show if accepted. And as Holmes shakes Roberts's hand, it looks like we got our main event!

SWF Shooting Star Title: Enforcer Roberts© vs. Bryan Holmes

This match, this type of match, was sure to be the highlight of the show. Give the guys some popularity, some storyline momentum, and this is match of the year quality. Sadly, we're far off that pace, at least to the crowd's concerns.

A submission-based match tends to be quite a bit slower, more methodical, no flash pinfall-type moves in play. Obviously this is because there isn't really something like a "flash submission," as one must be mindful of the opponent and ring position to get a point.

With that in mind, Roberts and Holmes cagily circled, waiting for an opportunity to begin doing serious damage. Roberts caught the early lead, tripping Holmes off a feint and cinching in a half crab.

Continuing the match, Roberts focused on mat-work, keeping Holmes grounded and grinding away at his limbs. To his part, and to the credit of DaVE, Bryan was capable in attacking the Enforcer any time he came in range. Thus, while Roberts got some near submissions and left Holmes limping easily ten minutes in, Holmes had already scored some devasting backfists, two or three pins worth of unconsciousness that, sadly, on which he could not capitalize.

The first "fall" came from Holmes, as an RCT built from a DDT reversal caught the challenger just slightly off-center. With nowhere to go, and still half the match ahead, Holmes chose to take the submission, regroup, and hopefully not lose too much bloodflow.

Roberts up 1-0.

Following his lead, Roberts became a bit more aggressive, continuing to take shots with the intent of hitting, it seems, a massive Belly-to-Belly en route to the RCT. Holmes flipped, falling into the turnbuckle as the move carried much momentum, but he flew out of the corner with a vicious lariat, leaving Roberts prone and open to an ankle lock.

Score is tied 1-1.

30 minutes in and a fall apiece, a bit of a rest period approached for both men. Both being older than, say, thirty-five, one had to ask how much their bodies could give. A lazy, or pained, sequence of a Northern Lights suplex blocked, DDT blocked, and merely a shove back to opposing corners belied their energy levels, each heaving with breath as they glared at each other.

The first big move after the impromptu break was a running neckbreaker from the challenger, leaving Roberts near the corner. Holmes took this opportunity to go outside and apply a ringpost figure four, not even caring as he went far beyond the count of five.

Roberts up 2-1.

As the second count began-which, due to the referee pleading with Bryan to break the hold already, was around 20 seconds later-Holmes dropped the hold, went into the ring, and spun Roberts into a Half Boston Crab that quickly evened the score once more.

Score is tied 2-2.

As the clock entered the fifty-first minute, the final ten minutes of the match, Roberts blocked a superplex, shoving Holmes to the mat. After a second-rope legdrop, an RCT followed as the champion, again, regained the lead.

Roberts up 3-2.

The clock winding down on Holmes's challenge, he was forced to attack more aggressively, choosing to utilize his brawling advantage that had proved useful early in the match. Managing to studder Roberts with a series of headshots, an arc kick found success with Holmes, allowing the larger man to fall to the mat, prey for a Cangrejo Japones. That is, a lucha Scorpion Deathlock.

Scores tied 3-3.

With a burst of energy in minute 59, Holmes speared Roberts into the corner, lifted him to the top, then hit a super armdrag to bering him back to the middle of the ring. One ankle lock later, and we have a new champion!

Holmes over Roberts, 4-3.

~~~~~~~~

Buddy Garner was scheduled to be on the show. Technically, the post-show counts, I guess. As he walks backstage, Gregory Black wants to shake his hand.

Oh, Garner will shake your hand. Shake your hand TO THE FACE IT'S MMA MOTHER****ER!

Before the faceoff gets too heated, a number of retired wrestlers break it up. Including, to note, Crippler Ray Kingman, Chief Two Eagles, Luis Montero, John Campbell, Pat Deacon, and Sensational Ogiwara.

~~

In the ring we go for a nice post-show go home happy interview. An extremely gorgeous, extremely beautiful woman sits in a chair across from another chair, amidst a backdrop of a Union Jack, a crooked tower, a small bird, and a sign, stating "Melanie's Corner".

Welcome, everyone, to the first edition of "Melanie's Corner." I am your host, Melanie Florence.

She does a small bow, still seated.

I need a guest for this segment, as I can hardly interview myself. Considering the vast array of options, starting at the top seemed like a solid idea to follow. With that, Christian Faith!

Biggest reception of the night by far. Entering the ring, Faith shakes Melanie's hand, then takes a seat.

Pleased to be here, Melanie. So what do you want to talk about?

Your championships. You have four SWF World Heavyweight Championships to your name, correct?

Correct.

I want to explore how you felt. I mean, we all know how it feels to win a title, I'm sure, but your first win is over a decade, nearly two decades ago. So looking back, being 43 now and looking back at your career, how do you feel?

It feels good.

Obviously.

Right but...well, if I look back, wrestling was a lot different ages ago. You didn't have this mammoth juggernauts dominating the wrestling scene.

Actually, Mammoth is near your age, so I imagine he was. But continue.

Ah, yes. Once Supreme became...supreme, there was this idea that this company, this one company, was the place to be. You go back to its inception, back in the years it danced at Cult...there was a different style to it. A different taste.

So is your palette more old-school, or have your taste buds adjusted to this new age?

Faith smirks.

I'd like to think I've adapted well. I'm still solid, still running at full tilt, and ready, if necessary, to take any belt away from anyone. I can compete at the top-level, and I don't see that ending any time soon.

I'm sure it's a pleasant sight, Christian, and I'm on record to saying that I would enjoy seeing it with you. Thank you for your time, everyone, and be sure to tune in next time I host Melanie's Corner.

Eidenhoek · October 9, 2012

SWF Uprising:

North American Championship

Emma Chase© vs. Eric Tyler

Yeah, Eric ****ing Tyler is on the show. ERIC TYLER!

Jungle Lord vs. Melissa Melons

Someone got them some o' dat jungle fever...

Joe Sexy, American Machine, and Captain Atomic vs. La Bestia Purpura, Knuckles, and Shady K

The American Males have appeared to recruit Joe Sexy to their cause. While Purpura is the only foreigner on the opposing team, it seems that Death Row are dispicable enough for the all-americans to take issue with them.

Christian Faith and Jack Bruce vs. Big Smack Scott and Tommy Gilmore

"Two of the brightest stars in the business against a bunch of has-beens," writes an anonymous tipster.

SWF World Heavyweight Championship

Eisaku Hoshino© vs. Eric Eisen

Hoshino shocked the world in his debut, and Eisen seeks to regain a belt he claims he never lost. Who will leave Meta as champion?

Including performances by resident SWF band, Root Canal!

Eidenhoek · October 10, 2012

SWF Meta, the full embodiment of Supreme Wrestling Federation's new direction, begins in the dark, just the live fans attending privy to this boon.

Joe Sexy is flanked by Captain Atomic and American Machine, The American Males.

Sexy: Hello everyone, and welcome to by far the sexiest stable in all of professional wrestling. We are The American Males, and it is from that name that these two men-

He gestures to Atomic and Machine.

-draw their own. This team, and this stable, this very union is based around one, and only one thing:

Turning to either side, Joe nods, before they all yell:

AMERICA!

Atomic and Machine chest bump as Sexy continues.

That's right. I'm all about having a good time-a very good time, if you understand. But that's only because in America, the good times roll all night!

Cue cheesy grin as the Males hi-five each other.

America is everything that's good about the world. In America, you can get everything, be anything, and love anyone. I know Kholov took a little sabbatical somewhere, but there are still some guys here think America's just a little game we play. Well tonight! Tonight we show one of them sum*****es what it means come up here to our land, our fight, and mock us! Troops, we march tonight! Tonight we fight for the red, blue, and white!

The trio cheer as they head off to final preparations for their match.

~~~

Vengeance vs. Gregory Black

And Black rests Six Feet Under.

~~~~~~

Opening the show, we have Randall Hopkirk, Billy Jack Shearer, and Man Mountain Cahill.

They play a medley of theme songs, including

<div class="ipsEmbeddedVideo"><div><iframe width="200" height="113" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/l-EdCNjumvI?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="" title="Limp Bizkit - Faith (Official Music Video)"></iframe></div></div> and

<div class="ipsEmbeddedVideo"><div><iframe width="200" height="113" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/a2SnYa2aJNo?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="" title="The Bit-52's The World's Greatest Robot Parts Band playing The B-52's - Rock Lobster"></iframe></div></div> theme songs, remixed.

~~~

Dog Collar Match: Jungle Lord vs. Melissa Melons

This is...

It's not so much a "match" as it is "Jungle Lord wanted to get some, and so he put a collar on Melissa Melons, who gainaxes like hell". Of course, the Jungle Jack-Jammer was probably unnecessary...

~~~

Joe Sexy and The American Males vs. La Bestia Purpura and Death Row

Sexy's side is focused purely on putting Purpura in the hospital, which allows both Knuckles and Shady K a chance to really show off their skills in the ring. The lighter Captain Atomic is put through a number of powerbombs and piledrivers that would surely put a lesser, non-American out for the count.

But the Captain rallies, and after a clothesline for Knuckles, a clothesline for Shady K, he tags in Joe Sexy, who goes to work on La Bestia Purpura who receives his side's tag.

AND IT'S A ONE NIGHT STAND! AMERICA WINS!

~~~

The second episode of Melanie's Corner starts with her guest, the ever-popular Rich Money, in the ring with her.

Welcome again to Melanie's Corner, everyone, and of course my guest is Rich Money.

She is unable to continue as the crowd goes crazy for the man. He aknowledges their presence with a nod and a wave.

Perhaps I should be doing the talking then, Ms. Florence?

Quite acceptable. If you please, I was wondering your thoughts on the recent conversion you have had.

I appreciate beauty just like the rest of us, but I hate to tell you I still deal in dollars, not the pound.

Laughing, the audience appreciates the quite poor remark; Melanie smirks at Money, who continues.

I assume you mean back a few months ago, how I was perfectly content to mess with champion Jack Bruce?

Though she attempts to answer, Melanie is forced to merely nod, as the mention of Bruce sends the fans into a tizzy. A right tizzy, that.

It was all about the title. Always, always about the title. You get the title, you get the money.

And you always get the money.

You catch on quickly.

Melanie gives a little nod of appreciation.

So I took the shot, because...I was given a title shot. I tried to psyche out Bruce, so that I could win. Standard fare for a standard opportunity.

And yet you didn't win, Rich. Guess you forgot to pay your taxes.

Ha.

But now you're here, and you don't seem so perturbed with either Bruce or Eric. Why?

Rich looks down, sighs, and scratches his chin.

It's because...there's more to do, Melanie. I could get embroiled in a feud that's gone for months now, get revenge on Eric for using me, but he doesn't have the title anymore, does he?

No, he does not.

So is a revenge scheme worth the time?

And by "time" I assume you mean "money", Money?

As always. With every choice, what's the most profitable? Chasing revenge from a petty theft of my free will does not pay off if there's no title to back it. And given what Hoshino's done so far...I think the safer bet is to stay back and let that investment mature.

Speaking of "maturity", it seems our time is up; we have a tag match next as "The Unholy Alliance" takes on Christian Faith and-appropriately-Jack Bruce. Thank you for your time, Rich.

A pleasure. Care to have dinner?

Melanie blushes.

Let's talk backstage.

~~~

<a href="http://youtubedoubler.com/5maU" rel="external nofollow">The single greatest mashup in the history of mashups is played by Root Canal as Jack Bruce and Christian Faith enter the ring before their match. It is awesome.</a>

<a href="http://youtubedoubler.com/5mb6" rel="external nofollow">Not to be outdone, "The Unholy Alliance" of Tom "Angry" Gilmore and Big Smack Scott make their way to the ring.</a>

Christian Faith and Jack Bruce vs. The Unholy Alliance

Dear god the mashups. THE MASHUPS. Peter Michaels is joined by Kristen Pearce and Jessie for this match, leading to utterly unbiased commentary.

The match is far more even than one might expect. While Scott's got crazy power, Bruce and Faith have spent years in the ring, nearly half a century combined, thus it's hard for anything to really surprise them. With smart tag work they weather Smack's storm, and Tom Gilmore is soon tagged into the match.

This turns into a handicap match as the man who never was battles the man who currently is and the man who once was. Champion, that is, and ignoring that Bruce hasn't held the title for about a month.

Bruce is about Gilmore's equal, confident in all aspects and styles of wrestling, but Bruce has a decided brawling advantage, where elsewhere Gilmore stands to win. This means that Jack scores big in moments, falling behind once taken to the mat and hurt badly by some truly twisted submissions. Eventually Jack has to tag in his partner, and Faith steps into the ring, fearless.

Although their skills are far more disparate, Faith has a presence in the ring, an almost invisible aura that one can feel, can almost taste standing opposite him. It's intimidating, and Tom's much less eager to get into a tie-up with the absolute legend. Nonetheless, wrestle they must, and Gilmore hangs on, if barely, to his lead.

With both men down after almost fifteen minutes of work, Tom is able to get the hot tag on Scott. Sensing victory, he flies to the other side of the ring in a beautiful leaping lariat, before picking Faith up and nailing the Ego Trip.

Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, knows what time it is. Sunglasses off, tossed to the crowd. Arm shakes, look left, look right, to the ropes! And away, over Faith, to the other side! Back to the downed opponent and shaaaaaaake the leg BIG.

SMACK.

SHUFFFFLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

The Biggest, Baddest, Smackest mother****er in the business picks up the win for The Unholy Alliance.

Sadly for Bruce and Faith, this is not to be the end of their torment. With Faith already down, Smack orders Tom to bundle in Bruce. Once that is accomplished, they put the boots to the duo, before Big Smack Scott nails a picture-perfect duo Big Smack Shuffle to bloody his fallen opponents. Smiling, Scott exits the ring, picks up the ladies-literally, on each shoulder-and walks backstage with his tag partner.

~~~

Backstage, Eisen hypes up his title match with Eisaku Hoshino.

Look, I get it. You all hate me, I screwed Bruce, I get it. I'm a terrible person. Fine, no point in arguing that right now. But Eisaku has no reason to hold the belt! He can't come in here, take my title, and just...

Flustered, Eric flips over a trashcan, then turns back to the camera, fuming.

Fine. Fine, fine, ****ing fine. I get it, right, it's all a joke. Because I "manipulated" Rich Money, because I "screwed over" Jack Bruce, this is my payback, right? I had the belt, but through nefarious means, whatever the hell that is, and so Steve literally steals the belt. As he's obviously not capable of being champion, he lost the belt. But guess what, saki-boy? IT'S MY TIME!

SWF World Heavyweight Championship: Eisaku Hoshino© vs. Eric Eisen

A ***** rears her head in this match. Her name is payback.

Immediately after the bell, Steve Frehley sprints down to the ring. Eric has managed to bodyslam the champ, but the match ends soon after as Steve lariats the hell out of the challenger. So Eric wins! The match, not the belt, I mean.

To add insult to insult, or injury to insult, Frehley proceeds to dominate Eric with a steel chair from ringside, bloodying the former champ and leaving him unmoving in the ring before heading backstage.

~~~~~~

Post-show, Kurt Laramee and John Greed are in the ring.

Kurt: Yo, so, I been thinking. And thing is, I haven't had a match in awhile. So I come up to this here ****er, says he gots the dough.

Greed: I do indeed possess much cash, as it is said. And as I too have received less than my share of match time, we challenge any team to beat us in the ring.

Kurt Laramee/John Greed vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

Though Greed asked for a team to beat him, Kurt easily handles both of the siblings, absolutely dominating them on the way to victory.

~~~

To end the show, Jessie and Kristen Pearce do a striptease. And by that I mean bubble wrap bikinis. And by bubble wrap bikinis I mean y'know how everyone wants to pop the bubbles on the bubble wrap? Well they do that, except this is bubble wrap near their woman parts. So it's sexual or something.

Eidenhoek · October 10, 2012

SWF Elite

Buddy Garner vs. ???

Garner faces another blast from the past, a huge talent in the world of professional wrestling.

SWF North American Championship

Emma Chase© vs. Eric Tyler

This time, no one will forget to book nor advance book the match.

SWF Shooting Star Title

Bryan Holmes vs. Squeeky McClean

On the quest to the top, Holmes slowly climbs through the roster of his newfound home.

Gregory Black vs. Big Smack Scott

Jack Bruce vs. Tommy "Angry" Gilmore

Eidenhoek · October 12, 2012

SWF Elite, penultimate show before When Hell Freezes Over, kicks off, unofficially, with Root Canal playing some of their greatest hits, medleys of entrance thems and the popular songs of the day.

~

SWF World Tag Team Championship: Death Row© vs. The American Males

With the crowd properly hyped, the two teams faced in a quick match that saw the champions retain in dominating fashion.

~~~

SWF North American Championship: Emma Chase© vs. Eric Tyler

A match that was advertised, but not scheduled, for SWF Meta, the North American champion had a particularly dangerous foe across from her.

As Garcia and company described, Eric Tyler had wrestled around the world, utilizing a technical skillset and a focused, calculating mind to win numerous championships. Admittedly, yes, he has been on a recent show of poor form, but this was his first opportunity to get back on track.

Unfortunately, the champion proved too much for him, and the pinfall lead to the second defense of Chase's title.

~

Buddy Garner vs. Louis Figo Manico

The sold out Arkansas Colliseum lauded their praise onto the great MMA legend, Buddy Garner, as he entered for this match. Curiously, they did not have a warm response for his opponent, the man with one of the best entrances in wrestling.

A fine bout, Garner proved himself the superior submission expert with a Garner Seated Choke to make the former owner of European wrestling submit.

~

Rich Money, Eric Eisen, and Lobster Warrior were at the backstage bar.

I nailed Chase.

Really, Eric? Because I've gone after that ass before, and if a million dollars doesn't cut it...you don't.

I'M A CRUSTACEAN!

Lobster Warrior scuttled past the two.

What, you saying the son of the greatest man in wrestling is a liar?

...Yes. Of course I am. Remember that one time when YOU MANIPULATED ME?

Oh. Right. Wait, seriously?

CLICKETY CLACK SNICKERSNACK THERE'S YOUR NECK!

*scuttle scuttle*

You wanna go, boy?

What's Batman's favorite dish?

All three stand up and look around for the voice.

Vengeance.

Turns out the bartender was Vengeance, who proceeds to lay out everyone with bottles of alcohol. As they bleed, they also spasm, because...well, alcohol in an open wound. **** hurts, bad.

~

Big Smack Scott vs. Gregory Black

As we learn from commentary, this is another lesson for Tommy Gilmore; they won as a team, but Smack's once again showing his prowess unhindered; the assumption is that Tom's supposed to win later tonight.

Smack, for his part, won handily. And by that we mean one hand on Black's chest, while the other was fooling around with Jessie's top during the pin.

~

Melanie's Corner once again begins, this time with the recent world champion, Steve Frehley, in the hot seat.

Once again we come to my corner, and this time our special guest is recent world champion, "The Dark Destroyer" Steve Frehley!

While Florence still does not get a second look from the audience, Frehley gets some crazy pops from the crowd.

I'd say...it's good to be here.

Frehley looks around at the set, his eyes settling on one of the drink mugs in front of him.

Why are you called the "Dark Destroyer," Mr. Frehley?

It takes a moment for Steve to answer, less due to thought and more due to the fact that he was halfway to stuffing the mug in his jacket.

Right, er, well, y'see, I destroy things.

Yes, and...?

And I'm black, yo.

It's not racist when they say it, apparently. What you mean "they"? I don't know here's my wallet WHAT YOU THINK I WANT YO WALLET FOR, FOO? CAN'T A MAN JUST BE HANGIN' ON THE STREETS? Yes, but not with a gun pointed at someone's face, and having just requested my wallet. No, pretty dang sure you want my money. Oh. Right. Well, thank you.

I see. There has been some controversy surrounding your recent championship win; care to discuss why, or how, you took the belt from Eric Eisen?

The mug is not there anymore.

Saw the belt, took it. Makes me champ, because I defended it.

Actually, you lost the belt.

Sure, sure, you call it that, but thing is, I got bigger plans.

Bigger than the biggest title in the largest company in the world?

Ha ha! Got you there!

Maybe. Maybe I get me a few more things, buy a jet. You don't know. I'm out.

Frehley leaves the set, accidentally dropping the mug on the way out of the ring. He looks at Melanie, then takes off backstage.

With my guest indisposed, it seems that I have to spend a few minutes, shall we say, stalling for time.

Melanie smiles into the camera.

The guests I have contacted for the next few shows range from the very popular to the vastly unknown. My purpose, in case you've forgotten, is to allow these men and women time to tell us who they are, why they're here, and why all of you great fans should care about them. Seeing as how...yes, as how I note most people are just coming back to their seats, it seems my time is up. Thank you.

~

On a show with very few angles considering recent form, the Shooting Star champion continued his rise through the company by attempting to defend his belt against Squeeky McClean.

It was a good pairing, as the men boast similar skillsets, and McClean nearly wiped Holmes out around 15 minutes in with a Stain Removal. Yes, the first fall attempt was at fifteen minutes. It was a failure, but the men continued to lock horns.

The strategy for the champion, it seemed, was to set up a Final Impact. Dizzy McClean enough, lift, and spike onto his head. To do that, though, with the defense being presented, Holmes had to spend an undue amount of time hitting Squeeky low, taking out his legs to curb his momentum. Seeing as how McClean was the aggressor, you know how that worked out.

Onward past 20 minutes, McClean was as wild as Lady Macbeth at Carrie's prom. Five finishers hit, one kicked out of, but the other four were either near the ropes or outside the ring. The champion would not be deterred, yet he still was unable to grasp victory. A rollup, a chance offense out of a near-fall, was his first attempt at 22 minutes, and it was unsuccessful from a 1-count.

As McClean looked set to nail a second-rope dropkick, Holmes lashed out with a stunning Yakuza kick, leaving Squeeky down on the mat, out cold. Instead of a cover, Bryan hoisted him up, hitting the Final Impact, before resolutely defending his belt.

~

Jack Bruce vs. Angry Gilmore

Big Smack Scott, according to Ana Garcia, was not jealous nor disappointed that Gilmore was main eventing over him; in fact, his words were, "It's finally time that ****er learned to main event. Spread yo' wings, you crazy Tommy, and crack that sum***** in the skull."

Eloquent as ever, Scott did set the stage for the match, as Gilmore looked to prove himself against a man who wanted to erase his recent loss. All-round talent on both sides of the ring led the duo through many paces, clotheslines into backslides and powerbombs into hurricanranas.

Not even into double digits yet, the first near fall came off a Bruce neckbreaker. "The neckbreaker," started Michaels, "is a move rarely known to end a match." "Aha, but you forgot three years ago, Peter, when Christian Faith-" "Shut up, Duane, Faith is an exception." Regardless, Gilmore swung into his own neckbreaker, getting a quick pin that barely missed getting to a two-count. Standing, Jack kicked him in the gut, floated over to Tom's back, spun him, then spiked him supine with another neckbreaker variant.

For two solid minutes, the two exchanged transitions and executions of a standard, low-caliber move that gradually evolved into a contest of close kickouts. After a springboard moonsault transitioning into a blockbuster, Gilmore grew frustrated as Bruce kicked out yet again, before changing his tactic and going for a lucha libre classic: the candado.

"NO WAY! HE'S GOING FOR THE DREADED CANDADO COMPILATION!"

Candado, candado invertido, candado, candado invertido...Bruce writhed in agony as he was unable to escape the foreign side and front headlocks, massive damage gradually accruing to his head. Gilmore broke the chain by slamming Bruce into the corner, before unleashing with a knife edge chop, corner slap to chest, knife edge chop...

At twenty minutes Gilmore had spammed the hell out of basic moves all over the ring to put Jack Bruce in absolutely dire straits. It was a curious strategy, incredibly effective and oddly titillating. Garcia covered herself up.

Tom went for a punch-NEW YORK MINUTE! NEW YORK MINUTE! GILMORE GOES DOWN! But Jack got dizzy due to blood loss from a DDT on the outside, and he could not capitalize for the pin. Tom rolled out of the ring, then reached under the ring to grab a chair! A no-disqualification match would have made this fair play, but no, this was not one of those! Gilmore slid the chair into the ring, picked up Bruce, and DDT ONTO THE CHAIR!

The referee told him not to do that again.

DDT ONTO THE CHAIR! Referee told him not to do that again.

Tom got a table, pulled that into the ring, set Bruce onto it, then climbed the turnbuckle...

GILMORE FLYING ELBOW THROUGH THE TABLLLLLLLEEEEEE!!!!

The referee remonstrated Tom, noting that this was far enough, and any more infractions would result in a disqualification. Sadly, Tom had not gone far enough, as Jack Bruce kicked out once more.

Over twenty minutes into the match and Bruce was bloodied, Tom had been finishered. No one was in any state to finish the match, yet further they labored. Bruce went to Gilmore's back, and got him in position for a backslide. But wait! Tom counters, pulling Bruce into a backslide-no! It's Jack's, Tom's, Jack's...for four more minutes they were inseparable, each trying to lay the other's shoulders to the mat.

And then when the clock hit 30, Bruce let go, hit another New York Minute, and got the pin.

~

Christian Faith popped up backstage.

Great to be here, everyone. Just wanted all of you to know that I will be at SWF When Hell Freezes Over, and that I will be champion once again by the year's end. Thank you.

~~~

Joe Sexy and Hugh de Aske were arguing backstage.

I don't speak your communist language you pig!

I am not a communist; I come to America to learn.

What, learn the launch codes?

What codes?

HA! KNEW IT!

Sexy proceeded to brutalize the foreign newcomer until backstage officials hauled him off of Hugh.

Eidenhoek · October 12, 2012

SWF Supreme TV

No matches; this is all hype for the Pay-Per-View. Appearances include:

Rich Money
Christian Faith
Eric Eisen
Jack Bruce
Tom Gilmore
Vengeance
Steve Frehley
Big Smack Scott
Emma Chase
Jessie
Kristen Pearce
Joe Sexy
Lobster Warrior
Root Canal

And most likely more!

Eidenhoek · October 20, 2012

SWF Supreme TV began backstage, and I mean the party started before the pre-show began. "Some people call me" Maurice "Andrew" Jackson showed up with a kegger, and it is rumored that tops came off.

Furthermore, Billy Jack Shearer and Randy Bumfhole love pigeons. I say they should let the pigeons loose, then. Let them loose.

~~~~~~~

Opening for the fans, the well-respected Bryan Holmes and well-rebreasted Emma Chase hold their title belts in the middle of the ring.

Holmes: I started with the Shooting Star title. I won it, I have defended it, and now I need to move onward. I need to rise above that level, in my progress toward the world championship.

Chase: And you think you can walk all over me because I'm a woman?

Holmes: That statement is incorrect because I don't think I can walk over you. You're a competitor, and more importantly, you are the North American champion. You have my utmost respect.

Chase: Sure, sure you do. You "respect" me just so long as you can "respect" these, right?

Chase rips off her top, revealing a diamond-studded, sparkling bra. She parades around the ring to a chorus of catcalls, pouting and furious at the reaction. Walking up to Holmes, she puffs out her chest, leaving only a foot between her glorious bra and his chest.

Chase: Don't you want to give it a squeeze, Bryan? Just a little shimmy for you?

Holmes looks at her cleavage, then returns her stare.

Holmes: No, I don't.

Chase is taken aback.

Chase: There is no way in hell that I'm not good enough for you, Holmes, so what's your problem?

Holmes: Your bra is quite sharp, Emma. Diamonds? That's going to bleed. A lot. So we're agreed that I'm fighting you for your belt, yes?

Chase: So if you can't get the bra, you want the panties?

As Chase starts to take off her skirt, Bryan holds up a hand. And is booed. Loudly.

Holmes: North American championship, Emma. Do whatever the hell you want on your own time, but Thursday night, I'm taking the belt. I'm done.

Holmes leaves the ring, frustrating Emma, who throws something of a tantrum in the ring. Yes, jiggle physics and all that.

~~~

Root Canal, resident SWF band, take the stage, performing their greatest hits so far together. This includes a cover of the upper half of the roster's themes, set to crazy beats and whatever those kids listen to these days.

~

Backstage Rich Money lounges in a chair, puffing on a cigar as he clearly relaxes before the big Pay-Per-View.

Money: I have plenty of issues with plenty of people. Jack Bruce, he accused me of being a master manipulator, and he just, just beat me to retain his title. Eric Eisen-

Expectedly, the crowd boos that name.

Money: -Eisen, not only did you pull all that **** last year, the manipulation, the deceit, but, and this is important: you lost the title before I could get retribution.

Taking his cigar, Money grabs a glass from a nearby counter, and puts his cigar out in it. The alcohol, as apparently was in the glass, lights up as Money places the glass back on the desk.

Money: You lost the title, Eric, but I haven't forgotten about you. And seeing as how I have no reason to be displeased with the current champion, Mr. Hoshino, I think now is a good time to beat your ass, Eric.

There's a slight smirk on Money's face as he faces the camera.

Money: Thursday I take you out, Eisen. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, nothing holding me back from giving you what you deserve. Born with a silver spoon in your mouth? You're about to have that spoon shoved up your ass.

Money walks out of shot, shoving the camera as he moves past.

~

Tuning his guitar, Christian Faith stands before an empty microphone stand, oblivious to the camera.

After about a minute, Faith strums off a few chords, casually looking out at his fake audience. Noticing the camera, he smiles, then sets the guitar back into its case.

Faith: I'm not a huge electric fan; I leave that stuff to the Jack Bruces of the world.

Faith walks across the camera's view, causing it to pan over and leaving the guitar behind.

Faith: I'm part of the old guard of the company. The face, the soul of SWF, the man everyone thinks of when you're looking for someone to represent what's right and true about the company. I've been here for years, I'll be here for years, and anyone who wants to be somebody...they end up looking for me.

Turn to camera, and Faith appears to have found his place for the rest of the promo.

Faith: I know of a few people who are looking to claim a place at the top, or reclaim what once was their own glory. I'm standing here as I've stood for years, the man to beat, the man that will give his all, the man that will make you famous. You want a fight? Try me. You want to win? I'd suggest you keep walking. Someone out there is ready for me; I'm showing up Thursday in the ring, so I'll expect you to join in on the fun.

~

Pacing backstage, Eric Eisen mutters to the camera.

Eric: It was my title. Never lost it to Frehley, and got disqualified by him against Hoshino. Actually, Hoshino was the one that got disqualified, so that's another reason to be champion.

Eric rips off his tie and throws it aside in frustration.

Eric: I had that match because this whole mess has taken a hell of a lot longer than was necessary. Steve should have been fired, me reinstated, and that would be it. But management has decided to be idiots, and as a businessman, I know that idiots in power can be rather...idiotic.

Eric smiles and rubs his neck, not just a bit forceful and scarcely revealing his perturbation.

Eric: So if that ship has sailed, if I'm not champion, then I'll be contender. I'll play the game until I take over the company and fire everyone who I deem incompetent. Which is, plainly, everyone. But in the meantime, I believe Mr. Money, Rich, you challenged me. As businessmen, I had assumed that our interactions were...well, were business. If you're going to take the poor decision and make this personal, so be it. Tack another loss on your record, go out there just to lay down, I don't care why. People seem to care about you, so this victory will only help me stay clearly in contention. Just please, this time, let it go. Obsessing is quite unattractive.

~

Jack Bruce finishes doing some crunches, then grabs a towel and puts it on his shoulder. Getting a bottle of water, he takes a drag and addresses the camera.

Bruce: Contrary to popular belief, I'm not just a hard rocker. I'm also a bigtime wrestler. It's how I won the title last year, and it's how I'm going to win the title this year. I have no problem with the current champion, and that gives me time to run through a few particularly...important individuals in my life.

Bruce walks over to a punching bag, onto which he has taped a picture of Eric Eisen. He hits a Jack Bruce Flurry on the picture before wiping his brow and fists, then turns back to the camera.

Bruce: Yeah, Eric, Money's got you Thursday, but I'll be watching. And you pull something stupid, get yourself disqualified, I'll make sure you pay. You're on the list, Eisen, and anyone else I face in the ring, be careful. Because this got very, very personal.

Bruce ends the segment with a roundhouse punch to the picture, tearing the picture from the impact.

~

BSS/Gilmore

A number of "ladies of the evening" are in a room surrounding Tom Gilmore, who looks bewildered and frightened at the amount of flesh on display-and smashed onto him.

From offscreen, a *pop* is heard, and a stream of bubbly liquid sprays all over the ladies. Big Smack Scott dances into shot, shaking the champagne bottle at crotch level as he sprays it everywhere-including the camera.

BSS: Yo get the party up! It's time motha****ahhhhhhhhh!

Smack throws the now-empty bottle against the wall offscreen. it shatters as Smack starts dry-hump-dancing with a cadre of the women. Rave dancing, except with more pelvic thrusting if you will.

Tom: Uh, Scott?

The music stops-oh, there was music-and everyone stands up, then looks to Gilmore as one.

Tom: Big Smack Scott?

The Smack clears the room of the ladies, not before grabbing some on the butt and "accidentally" copping a feel on one of them, and "accidentally" removing her bra-she exits shot covering herself with her hands.

Scott sits down next to Tom, draping an arm around his shoulders. This leaves the pink bra in Tom's face.

BSS: Saved yourself, kid, but what is it?

Tom: Don't we...already have girlfriends?

Scott punches him in the arm and laughs hard, but he realizes after a moment that Tom wasn't joking.

BSS: Wait, yo, you serious?

Tom: Yeah.

BSS: You banged Kristen, right?

Tom: What?

Scott gets up, drops his pants-boxers, he's still wearing boxers-and proceeds to hump the air in front of Gilmore's face. Scott's in profile, so the camera intermittently loses focus on Tom's face.

Tom: No, I...I...could you...I get what "banging" is, Smack, that's not what I meant.

The humping stops, and Scott sits back down next to his partner. Still without pants.

At this moment, one of the girls walks back in, bends down, and grabs her own pants from the floor. Scott spanks her ass as she leaves, leaving a red mark on her left buttock.

BSS: What's that now? You wanted to bang her?

Tom: Her who?

BSS: Who's on first?

Tom: Who's on what?

BSS: No, who's on first? Who you gonna bang first?

Tom: I, er...I didn't really think about banging anyone, really.

No sooner is the heresy uttered than Scott springs up, grabs Tom, and slams him against the wall. The one onto which the champagne bottle shattered earlier.

BSS: Listen here you ****ing moron: I give you a *****, you bang her. Hard. **** her all night. You go to bed, next day she can't walk. Get it? Because that's the whole point. Whole reason you go out there every day is so nighttime comes and that ***** is on the floor yelling your name. Get it? Because only thing you good for now, Tommy, is ****ing her brains out. I win matches; you **** *****es.

Scott bodyslams Gilmore to the ground, onto the broken glass, and leaves the room, allowing a nice pool of blood to get smeared about as Tom writhes in pain.

~

Christian Faith and Jack Bruce walk the halls backstage, conversing about guitars. As they enter a bit heated point about acoustic-versus-electric, Vengeance drops from the top of shot and clotheslines the duo.

Picking up Bruce, Vengeance slams him into the wall, as a hooded man handles Faith in a mirrored manner across from him.

Vengeance: He's back, Jack.

A punch to the face, and Bruce goes down.

???: Dat's right. Faith, you ain't nothin' but a *****!

The mystery man lifts up Christian Faith, stalls, stalls, and nails a devastating Jackhammer into the concrete. Vengeance gets Bruce up and hits a DDT, leaving the fan favorites down and out as the two standing part ways.

~

Backstage:

Frehley: Yo kids, got a few lessons for ya. See, Stevie boy here decided that he wanted himself a championship. Second time the charm, right? So let's see how we do: I take what I want. That's how I do.

The Dark Destroyer cracks his neck, pops his knuckles, then continues in his spiel.

Frehley: It's simple: I take it. I takee it, steal it, win it, whatever you want to call it. It's what I do, what my kind of people do. So Eric wants to get all sad about it? Take it up with a lawya. I don't need that ****.

Steve walks out of shot, then the camera shakes, and someone catches it before it falls to the ground. Turning, the view turns to Steve's face.

Frehley: Worth what, a couple Gs? I like.

~

In the women's locker room, Emma Chase puts on makeup in front of a mirror. Clad in a white jacket and black miniskirt, she looks quite fetching. As she finalizes her face with some very, very red lipstick, she appears to be dissatisfied with her look overall. Thinking, Chase turns to face the camera.

Chase: You think this makes the outfit?

Chase unzips her jacket. As has been characteristic of late, the big reveal is quite scant of clothing; a mere see-through lacy black design defines the notion of "barely legal".

Chase: As a real female competitor, the best in the company, I figure I have to look my best. And with my curves, I have to show off what makes me better than everyone. So Hannah, you want some? I'll play. Holmes? I think I remember you, but you can try to refresh my memory if you want. Truth is, I'm better than you in every way. Every way.

Chase approaches the cameraman and something happens, but however he was holding the camera, that goes limp. Clang, clang, and Emma kneels, waving bye to the camera.

~

Backstage, Kristen Pearce has confronted Tom Gilmore. As the conversation appears to escalate, Big Smack Scott and Jessie come into the widening shot.

Kristen: What's this I heard about a party?

Tom: It was nothing. It was just-

Kristen: I heard someone lost their bra?

Tom: Yeah, someone did...

Kristen: And you didn't think to tell me?

Tom: It wasn't my idea!

Scott lightly shoves Gilmore and grabs Kristen's attention. Via the patented Ass Smack.

BSS: Yo, that's right. All me, babe.

Kristen: Why didn't you tell me?

Jessie: Yeah...why didn't you tell us, Scotty?

The sisters stand arms akimbo side-by-side, puffing out their chests. Mmm, chests.

BSS: Wait, y'all weren't there?

Both women look confused, and Tom wanders back into the camera.

Jessie: Don't you think I'd know if I was there?

BSS: Hey, now, I'm not saying I forget you. After all, grab that ass-

He does. She smiles.

BSS:-I'm not forgetting that. But there were a lot of fine-ass honeys up in there. Not like yours, of course-

Having still held a hunk of flesh this whole time, Scott squeezes a little more, eliciting a happy yelp from Jessie.

BSS: But good enough to play with, y'dig? Now I understand why you're dissatisfied; missing a Big Smack Attack celebration is a time for mourning. And I apologize for someone not sending your invitations.

He indicates Tom behind him, who looks bewildered. As he tries to say, "I don't know what he's talking about!" Kristen walks up and low blows him with her stiletto heel.

BSS: I know you've heard about "keeping it in the family," so how about both of you *****es and me see how often I can put it in yours?

The women giggle and fawn over Scott, who grabs a cheek of each of theirs as they walk out of shot. Tom is still on the floor in pain.

~

Backstage, Joe Sexy sings, "I'm Sexy (and I know it)," the hit single from LMFAO that may or may not exist/been released/topped the charts. He's almost 40. /sigh

~

Lobster Warrior is in a huge aquarium tank, complete with SCUBA suit. It's painted red and looks like a lobster. Kinda.

While he probably has plenty of things to say in this segment, the fact that he's underwater behidn the glass makes it difficult, if not entirely impossible, to understand him.

~

SWF Heavyweight Championship: Eisaku Hoshino vs. Maurice Jackson

The entrances are longer than the match. Hoshino squashed the debutant in a crushing title defense.

~~~

UCR Women's Championship: Queen Emily vs. Sensational Ogiwara (Las Vegas Gamble)

The show's over, but management has decided that the go-home event should be one of the most fun types of matches possible. The wheel is brought out to grand display, and it is spun. As the crowd cheers-what's left of them, perhaps-the needle comes to rest on...

Ryan Reynolds dressed as a Chippendale dancer.

He's the sexiest man alive this year, btw.

The two females come out with weird-as-hell bodysuits, and they proceed to have a weird-as-hell match, ending with Queen Emily hitting a crescent kick on Ogiwara for the pin.

Eidenhoek · October 20, 2012

It appears this type of humor, if humor is present, is far less popular than I had initially anticipated. No matter; we forge forward. And if you must know, Enforcer Roberts is quite displeased after two terrible gimmick changes back-to-back. I have given him another change to his cheerleader gimmick, but also a vacation in the meantime. I believe it is a month. Also on vacation are Richard Eisen (as I am owner, obviously) and Valiant, who was displeased with dropping the tag team titles all those years ago.

Given that the Pay-Per-Views are the only way for SWF to grow, I have a high inclination to provide actual matches with actual wrestling between actual, real top-tier talent. Or merely the popular. So understand, then, why my advance bookings are in stark contrast to what you have seen recently.

Also, I will be revealing quite a few titles at this Pay-Per-View, so watch for that.

Also, a particular segment is going to appear that is the genesis of this little diary as a whole. I hope you like it. Rather, if you don't like it, I am going to be very angry. Which will have no ramifications on anything, sadly.

SWF When Hell Freezes Over

SWF North American Championship

Buddy Garner/John Greed vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

SWF World Heavyweight Championship

Big Smack Scott vs. Jack Bruce

Angry Gilmore vs. Christian Faith

Eric Eisen vs. Rich Money

And featuring the greatest segment ever from Root Canal, Remo Richardson, Jack Bruce, and Lobster Warrior!

Eidenhoek · October 27, 2012

SWF When Hell Freezes Over

Steve Frehley vs. Kristen Pearce

A devastating duel, the Dark Destroyer absolutely reams Ms. Pearce, leaving her down on the mat for the easy three count.Victor: Steve Frehley

After the match, The Unholy Alliance run in to save Kristen, who was in no danger from a Frehley post-match attack. He is almost blindsided going up the ramp by a charging Tom Gilmore, but he sidesteps, turns with the momentum, and essentially leads Gilmore into spearing himself on the barricade.

Unfortunately, Big Smack Scott also was running down the ramp, and a clothesline briefly floors Steve. This allows the duo to regroup, and the numbers game quickly catches up with the young man. A devastating double suplex on the steel ramp capitalizes their message: don't touch their women.

A quick bout, the two DaVE stars meet again in the ring, this time with the male emerging victorious.

Emma Chase grabs a microphone after Bryan leaves the ring, and props herself up in a corner.

Emma: Alright, alright, I lost. I lost my belt, but I still climbed the highest any woman ever has in this company. I still am the top female in the world. So that means, come Uprising, any of you *****es in the back think you can beat me-think being the operative word-then go ahead. Answer this challenge. I'll be there Saturday.

~~~

DAVE Tag Team Titles: Buddy Garner and John Greed vs. The Amazing Bumfholes

With a veteran and three rookies in the ring, this match was indicative of the youth movement that has been initiated in SWF's 2010 front. Garner being the veteran also showed the kind of debuting talent that the company was set to hire in the coming year.

That said, this was more of a spot-fest than a structured match, with the Bumfholes lacking especially in the performance polish one would want to see higher on the card. To their detriment, the heel side was unable to take control in the face of that shortcoming, so equal blame could be given to everyone.

Garner worked over the Bumfholes with some wicked MMA influence, and it was this power that netted his team the win and the tag team titles. Now when will we see the inevitable unification match with Death Row?

With the biggest title in the company on the line, Eisaku Hoshino knew that he had a huge challenge ahead. The fact that he faced a returning Remo? Not...not an easy road ahead.

Remo has been looking for the big championship ever since rival Frehley got his shot back in '06. With this new, ferocious edge, The Destroyer looked all but unstoppable.

A devastating Spear only a few minutes into the match belied a quick finish, as the champion was able to kick out of the move, surprising the young challenger. A quick Hoshino Lock, and once again a big move belied victory. Powering up, Remo power-bombed the champion to the mat, before rolling outside to check his own airflow.

So the match continued, both men having been neutered by the best of their opponent's offense early in the match. Richardson shied away from his usual steamrolling self, while Eisaku looked to hang on, to use whatever momentum to knock the big man down-and keep him there.

Ticking onward, the clock passed thirteen with a dozen more near-falls to the contest, the most recent after a Godzilla Plunge landed too close to the ropes, allowing Remo to break the pin. Slipping out of a Lumbar Puncture, Eisaku sought to hit the Nuclear Death Bomb, but Remo had none of it. Standing tall, refusing to be lifted, Remo blasted Hoshino with a headbutt that bloodied the man's nose. Sizing him up, it was time for THE DESTROYER!

HIT!

1, 2...

3!

DAVE Unified Championship: Big Smack Scott vs. Jack Bruce

Hot off a meteoric rise, The Big Smack looked to upset the recent World Heavyweight Champion. Bruce, for his part, has recaptured most of his 2009 glory, and thus this match was much more close than either man desired.

Busting out the tried-and-true punch exchange in the middle of the ring, Bruce got caught with a wicked left hook, leaving him dazed against the ropes. A clothesline later, and The Smack was left in the ring. Instead of pushing the advantage, he took the time to pose for the crowd for a few minutes.

As the clock eked closer to 15 minutes, Bruce had regained his composure, blocking another tough shot from Smack and slamming him into the corner. A bulldog followed, and as Scott rose, NEW YORK MINUTE! NEW UNIFIED CHAMPION!

CWF National Championship: Christian Faith vs. Tom Gilmore

With his partner facing a heavy loss previous, and with the most prestigious belt in the company on the line, Gilmore had plenty of reason to win.

Then again, he's facing Christian Faith.

The two clashed in surely the match of the night, a battering 30-minute Ironman Match set to prove Faith's moniker of the Ironman. Submissions repeatedly targeted the larger man's arms, Tom looking to neutralize the power striking ability of the beloved veteran. For that effort, Gilmore received no points, instead getting a bruised eye after one-too-many shots to break a hold.

Rallying late in the fight now, Faith whipped his opponent into the corner, setting him up for a Leap of Faith.

WHICH HITS! FAITH GOES UP 1-NIL!

A solid twenty minutes ahead of them, Gilmore had plenty of time to catch up-and he knew this. So did Faith, and for the next moments chose to bide his time, not pressing the advantage he had created lest Gilmore be waiting with a counter.

This proved successful, as Tom eventually became flustered and ran right into a DDT. However, the ensuing pin cost the leader, as Gilmore countered into his own schoolboy, before transitioning into a brutal Boston Crab, all but crippling the SWF legend.

Toughing it out for two more minutes, Faith looked close to tapping. However, he was given respite as Gilmore, frustrated ever more, released the hold.

Correction: Tom wanted to end this. Pointing to the sky, he mounted the turnbuckle, and dropped off with a Sky High Elbow to his opponent!

Score is tied 1-1.

Tom nearly got himself disqualified after the fall, keeping a mount on Faith and blasting him with punches. At the count of five, and even a second past, fist after fist hammered into Faith's face, leaving bloody streaks as the referee was forced to break them apart.

Oh, but Christian knows how to hammer.

As the match came to a close, Faith Hammer after Faith Hammer stunned and finally floored Gilmore, before Faith lifted him once more and clamped on the Test of Faith.

29 minutes, and the best he could hope for was a tie.

30 seconds, and Tom looked close to tap, close to biting the bullet, so close to maybe, possibly...

10 seconds...

5 seconds...

Gilmore tapped out.

Eric Eisen vs. Rich Money

Due to growing tensions between the two, Eisen and Money had elected to create this main event a shoot fight, a cage match where there were only two rules:

1. No weapons.

2. No escape.

With both men intent on creating real harm, it was clear that the knock out victory was the ideal prize. Thus, even as a Dollars From Heaven landed, no pin was counted. An eight count was reached, but the young Eisen prevailed in getting to his feet. A Silver Spoon Shock, the modified "The Supremacy" that itself was a modified Silver Spoon Shock, was attempted, but Money caught the surprise move and dumped Eric into the cage.

Both men hit the cage hard as the fight continued, blood painting the canvas as Money and Eric crashed across the ring. A hurricanrana from Eric launched Rich face-first into the cage, and it looked as though the owner's son would be victorious. However, Money got his arm up at the third referee's request, and thus he was deemed not knocked out.

However, mounted punches to the face did little to let him recover. Even as the referee admonished Eisen, he backed away and attacked again with a leg drop. An elbow drop. High impact moves that, while not strung together, prevented a steady breath to be drawn from his opponent.

As the clock ticked forward, nearing the time of the previous contest, Rich Money was the first to take a more standardized victory. Dodging, barely, a charge, he rolled Eric up for a surprising two count, Eisen barely kicking out even though almost no weight had held him to the mat. Fuming, he looked for a curb stomp, but Rich caught the leg and twisted into an ankle lock!

Now equalling the past title match's length, Eric twisted, pained, contorting his leg to quell the pressure, Rich giving him no quarter in releasing the hold. Eric eventually rolled onto his back, and while Money still held the ankle, Eric managed to get his shoulders pinned to the mat, forcing a break lest Rich choose to lose the fight.

Rich got to his feet, and SILVER SPOON SHOCK!

IT'S ALL OVER!

Victor: Eric Eisen

The show closed with a most excellent segment, one that will be described a bit later, as it truly captures everything one could hope to ever see.

~~~

UCR European Title: 30-Man Battle Royal