XWF Presents: RED DEAD RELENTLESS NIGHT THREE - Printable Version +- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf1999.com) +-- Forum: Pay Per View Boards (https://xwf1999.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=125) +--- Forum: PPV Results (https://xwf1999.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=128) +--- Thread: XWF Presents: RED DEAD RELENTLESS NIGHT THREE (/showthread.php?tid=50514)

XWF Presents: RED DEAD RELENTLESS NIGHT THREE - 'Big' Dick Lichter - 09-21-2026 SEPTEMBER - 20 - 2026 LIVE FROM STADE PATER TE HONO NUI PAPEETE, TAHITI Main Event MC Edgecrusher presents The XWF Relentless Pepsi Zero Sugar Presented by Taco Bell, Progressive Insurance, DraftKings, Snickers, Mountain Dew, AutoZone, and the All-New Ford F-150 pre-show MC Edgecrusher - vs - Solomon Kline Scaffold Match Charlie Nickles - vs - Jordan Penn Texas Bullrope Match XWF Revolution Championship Marisol Vilaro - vs - Summer Page Lucha de Apuestas ULTIMATE HUMILIATION: The Loser is forced to put the belt on the waist of the winner after the match Scoops McGee - vs - The Man Known as @getouttamyringerson If Scoops loses, he has to induct Elon Musk into the Hall of Legends, If Scoops wins, Elon Musk MUST SELL HIS XWF OWNERSHIP XWF Anarchy Championship Miss Furry - vs - Apathy Ladder Match XWF Universal Championship Samael Dyson© - vs - Michael Graves - vs - Sebastian Everett-Bryce Tahiti Triple-Threat Match The screen is completely black, and the opening notes of some overly dramatic royalty-free orchestra music begin to play. We hear the voice-over of "Old Good" RJ and the always-horny Prince. RJ: Ladies and gentlemen, wrestling fans all around the world, we have finally arrived. Prince: Three nights of cooking up chaos on the Cooking Network! RJ: God damn it... do I really have to keep saying this? Three unforgettable MAIN EVENTS! Prince: Three nights of hard, sweaty men pounding each other! RJ: Don't. Prince: Slamming bodies! RJ: Prince... Prince: I'm building excitement! RJ: You're building the wrong type of excitement, Prince. Ladies and gentlemen, tonight XWF Red Dead Relentless comes to you live from the beautiful tropical paradise of Tahiti! The screen flashes several images of the arena for the show being set up, as well as various XWF stars in various XWF star actions. Prince: Beaches, palm trees, string bikinis, sand, waves, string bikinis, mangos, oh, and did I mention string bikinis? RJ: Yes, several times. And before the biggest stars in the XWF step into the ring, we have one final piece of unfinished business at the XWF Relentless pre-show. What has been described as the final in a best-of-three series... Prince: One final climax... RJ: ...wait for it... Prince: All over everybody's face! RJ: There it is. The dramatic music begins to swell as the screen fades back to black. RJ: Tonight, Main Event MC Edgecrusher and Solomon Kline bring their bitter rivalry to its dramatic conclusion! The screen cuts to RJ and Prince standing in the parking lot of an airport. RJ: We are... (sigh) ...live to tape from the NUEVO PARAÍSO International Airport. The camera pulls back, allowing us to see both men standing next to the Edgecrusher. He has shed all of his "Thug" attire and is back to wearing his regular gear of black leather pants with a random white T-shirt. Next to the Main Event Edgecrusher stands an obviously annoyed and confused Solomon Kline. Kline: Aren't you supposed to be a rapper? MEEC: What? Why would I be a rapper? Kline: No more "MC?" MEEC: OHHHHHH... I get it, friendly little teasing. Really funny, pal! Glad to see you're feeling better. My collectable limited-edition potato really must have made you feel better. Kline: Can we just get this over with already? How are we supposed to have a scaffold match here? MEEC: Yeah... there was a slight problem with all that. RJ: Yeah, this guy blew all the budget on stupid shit the first night, then wasted the little left over last night. Now we're here... broke but still contractually obligated. MEEC: It wouldn't have been so bad if Prince there wouldn't have scared off all the sponsors. Nobody wanted to give more money after last night's closing. Prince: I'm just doing what your production assistant told me to do. They said don't worry about censorship, this was a Skin-a-max PPV. MEEC: Production assistant? I didn't have a production assistant. Was I supposed to have a production assistant? Did I have a production assistant? Prince: Yeah, and told me not to worry. Even gave me some little blue pill that would help "enhance my performance." MEEC: Well, I need to figure out who my production assistant was because he's... it was a he? Prince: Yeah, I think. He was really pale and had green hair. MEEC: Well, he's fired, whoever he is. But seriously, it's not that bad. I sold my plane ticket to Tahiti so I could pay for our big match. The epic conclusion to our blood rivalry happens right here! Kline looks around the parking lot and still sees nothing. He looks to Main Event Edgecrusher, who just blankly stares back at him with a giant proud smile. Kline: And… MEEC: Oh... wait... over here.[/puirple] The Edgecrusher leads Solomon around to the front of the car they are standing next to. Its hood is open, with a series of wires running off the car's battery leading to a massive CRT TV sitting on the hood of the car next to it. An old, dusty Nintendo 64 console is attached to the TV and playing the start screen from "WWF NO MERCY." Kline: You sold your plane ticket for an old N64? [purple]MEEC: And a copy of "No Mercy." Sold the ticket online for $100. Awkward silence as both men just stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Kline shrugs, picks up his controller, and presses start. He picks a singles match, then both men pick their virtual avatars from only the finest 2000s-era wrestlers. RJ: Solomon Kline picks "Stone Cold" Steve Austin. Prince: That's one hell of a choice. Gonna be a tough matchup no matter who the Main Event picks. The Edgecrusher scrolls through the list once, then again, and again, and yet again. Prince: Edgecrusher seems to be struggling to decide... wait... it seems like he's made a decision. RJ: Yes, Prince, he's going with... Howard Finkel? ‘Main Event’ Edgecrusher - vs - Solomon Kline Scaffold MatchWWF No Mercy for the N64 Match The bell rings out from the TV's tiny speaker as the bout begins. Kline's carefully planned and timed button presses are the polar opposite of the Edgecrusher's strategy of mashing buttons. RJ: Kline holds A to initiate a strong grapple, then presses C-Down to Irish whip the Edgecrusher into the ropes. As the Edgecrusher rebounds, Kline holds A to catch him with a strong Irish whip grapple. Prince: Wow! Kline presses R to pull the Edgecrusher back to his feet. He taps B, then taps B again. RJ: God no, he's holding B... dear God, don't do it... Prince: He released B and lands a strong strike. Kline holds B again, but the Edgecrusher presses R at the right moment and counters the attack. The Edgecrusher holds A to initiate a strong grapple, then enters his grapple command, knocking Kline to the ground. RJ: The Edgecrusher walks toward him and taps B for a weak ground strike, but Kline gets back to his feet and executes the input for a low blow. With the Edgecrusher stunned, Kline presses C-Down to run, holds a direction on the D-pad, and presses B. Stone Cold charges across the screen and connects with strong running Clothesline R 01, knocking Howard Finkel over the top rope and sending him crashing to the arena floor. The Edgecrusher begins mashing buttons to climb back into the ring as the little digital referee begins the mandatory 10-count. Any button he presses seems to do anything but climb back into the ring. 1... 2... 3... 4... MEEC: Come on, get back in the ring. Howard Finkel pulls a trash can from under the ring. 5... 6... Kline: It's C-Up. MEEC: I don't need a cup, I need to get back into the ring. 7... Kline: Just C-Up. MEEC: Just see up where? 8... Kline: C-UP!!!!! MEEC: Nice try, Salami. I wrote the book on fake UFO distractions. 9... MEEC: Wait, I remember now… The Edgecrusher randomly mashes buttons, and Howard Finkel turns and runs toward the entranceway. MEEC: Wrong way! 10! Winner: Solomon Kline! The bell rings, and Stone Cold is declared the winner in the game, making Solomon Kline the winner outside the game. Solomon tosses his controller onto the hood of the car. Kline: We done here? I got a plane to catch. MEEC: Well played. You may have won the match, but I won the best of three! Kline doesn't even bother asking what the hell that means and just walks away. RJ: Now how the hell does you losing mean you won? MEEC: This was a best of three. It was the third match, and I had the best of my three showings. I won the best of three. RJ: That's not how... ya know what... sure. You won the best of three. I don't even care. That ends my contractual obligations. If you'll excuse me, I also have a plane to catch as well. I got tickets to the final night of Red Dead Relentless and bought some idiot's flight ticket online for dirt cheap. RJ wanders off in the same direction as Solomon Kline, leaving Prince and Edgecrusher alone. MEEC: So… Prince: … MEEC: … Prince: … MEEC: ..... Prince: That old guy really fuck the robot? The scene fades out. Charlie Nickles appears on stage as soon as his music hits. He’s wearing a madman’s grin and some clothes he found at the local Goodwill as he lurks towards the ring. Fans reach out and try to high five him over the barricade, but he doesn’t pay them a lick of mind. Instead, he just rolls under the ropes and begins cracking his thunderous knuckles in anticipation. JC: Charlie Nickles looks like he’s all business tonight! He’s not here for the fun and games! JR: I have to disagree with you there, Jacquinde! I think Charlie Nickles is going to have a LOT of fun tearing apart his former Brother, his former tag-team partner, Jordan Penn! JC: Well I can’t blame him for that! Jordan and Charlie have been through hell together, but only after Jordan sent his sister, Jennie, there first! And as soon as Charlie figured it out…well, he’s been itching for a chance to get some payback! Darkness. Silence. A pause. "Hey, that your boyfriend?" "True Believers" by DON BROCO feat. Sam Carter starts as the crowd starts a deafening chorus of boos. A spotlight. "And that big red flag they waving, it's your choice." The automatons, bearing their respective symbols on their masks appear, two on either side of the spotlight. X, O, Triangle and Square. A helicopter hovers now. From it comes a ladder that lowers down onto the spotlight, carrying Jordan Penn in his masked Director persona. He descends fully and kneels as his minions follow suit. The camera zooms in on the unofficial championship belt he’s holding, Sebastian’s former Universal Championship, which has a lock of hair crudely taped to it. "All the true believers, All the true believers, All the true believers..." "WAKE THE FUCK UP!" In that moment, he removes his mask as pyro explodes onto the stage behind him. Two other men join the entourage now, Greg Brune and Wallace. Jordan strides single-mindedly and quickly toward the ring, flanked by his four masked and two unmasked men. As he reaches the edge of the ring, he surveys the crowd, taking in their boos and letting it fuel him. A wry smile etched across his face, he laughs and looks to his men. The masked men get on all fours and form a human staircase for him. He walks across their backs with purpose and enters the ring. Wallace nods, signaling for the masked men to head backstage. Wallace and Greg Brune take their places on either side of the ring as Jordan mockingly does a pageant wave to the crowd, met with more booing. He flips off the audience in at least three different ways before leaning on the turnbuckle and looking out once more at the crowd and waiting for the match to begin. JR: Jordan Penn doesn’t even seem fazed by that madman waiting for him in the ring! JC: Well of course he isn’t! As far as Penn is concerned, he MADE Charlie Nickles into the monster he is today! And Penn doesn’t fear his own creations! JR: I can tell that, Jacquinde! He even came out to the ring with some of Jennie Nickles’ hair taped to the old Universal Championship belt! JC: Charlie Nickles is known for playing mindgames, but Jordan Penn has outwitted him at every turn for months! And this little art project of his is no different! JR: But the time for mind games are over! As soon as that bell rings, all that tough talk gets put to the side. And the only thing matters? Is seeing which one of these Bastards has what it takes to cash the check their mouth wrote! The camera sweeps around the arena, showing excited BOB fans displaying torn loyalty between Charlie and Jordan. JC: The rules for this marquee matchup could not be simpler. Charlie Nickles and Jordan Penn will be tied together by this bullrope for the duration of the contest. They must touch all four turnbuckles consecutively. No pinfalls. No submissions. No disqualifications. There is nowhere to hide. JR: And nowhere to run. JC: These two men have spent weeks arguing over who created whom. Who made whom successful. Who was responsible for the man standing across the ring. JR: Jordan Penn says he made Charlie Nickles. JC: Charlie Nickles says Jordan Penn would be nothing without him. JR: And tonight, Jacuinde, we're going to find out which one of them gets to tell that story when this match is over. The referee brings the bullrope forward. Charlie extends his wrist. Jordan does the same. The referee ties them together. Charlie looks down at the rope. Then looks at Jordan. JR: Once that knot is tied, there is no escaping the other man. JC: That's the point. JR: No. That's the problem! The referee checks the rope. Checks the knot. Checks both men. Charlie never blinks. Jordan smiles. The bell rings! Charlie Nickles - vs - Jordan Penn Texas Bullrope Match Neither man moves. The rope hangs between them. Jordan takes one step forward. Charlie takes one step forward. They are nose-to-nose. Jordan whispers something. Charlie headbutts him. CRACK! Jordan stumbles backward. The crowd explodes. JC: OH MY! Charlie follows. RIGHT HAND. RIGHT HAND. RIGHT HAND. Jordan fires back. RIGHT HAND. RIGHT HAND. RIGHT HAND. The two men are trading punches before the opening bell has even stopped echoing. Jordan grabs the rope. He pulls. Charlie comes forward. Jordan drives his knee directly into Charlie's stomach. Charlie folds. Jordan grabs the rope. WHIP! Charlie is dragged forward. Jordan swings the cowbell attached to the rope. CLANG! The bell smashes into Charlie's forehead. Charlie drops to a knee. JC: THE COWBELL! JR: And there goes the idea of a wrestling match! Jordan grabs Charlie by the hair. Another swing. Charlie ducks. CLANG! The cowbell catches the turnbuckle. Jordan turns. Charlie is already standing. HEADBUTT. Jordan staggers. Charlie grabs the rope. YANK. Jordan flies across the ring. Charlie catches him with a clothesline. Jordan flips over. Charlie doesn't stop. He grabs Jordan. DRAG. Jordan's face scrapes across the canvas. DRAG. Again. DRAG. Again. JR: Charlie Nickles is using that rope like a tow cable! JC: Jordan Penn is being dragged across the ring! Charlie pulls Jordan into the ropes. Jordan rebounds. Charlie catches him. SIDEWALK SLAM. The ring shakes. Charlie stands. He pulls Jordan up. HEADBUTT. Jordan falls. Charlie pulls again. HEADBUTT. Jordan falls. Again. HEADBUTT. Jordan falls. JR: That's vintage Nickles! JC: Jordan Penn can't get away! JR: He can't get away because he isn't allowed to! Jordan suddenly pulls the rope. Charlie is dragged forward. Jordan swings. Charlie ducks. Jordan spins. Charlie charges. Jordan catches him. BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX. Charlie crashes. Jordan doesn't release the wrist. He rolls through. SECOND SUPLEX. Charlie lands hard. Jordan rolls through. THIRD. Charlie hits the canvas. Jordan scrambles up. He grabs Charlie. ELBOW. Another. Another. Another. Jordan backs Charlie into the turnbuckles. He starts smashing Charlie's head into the pad. ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. SEVEN. EIGHT. NINE. TEN. Jordan stops. Charlie is dazed. Jordan grabs the rope. He walks toward the first corner. He touches it. ONE. JC: JORDAN'S GOT THE FIRST CORNER! Jordan turns. Charlie is on one knee. Jordan smiles. He pulls the rope. Charlie comes flying toward him. Jordan catches him with a knee. Then another. Then a third. Charlie falls. Jordan stands over him. JORDAN: “One.” Jordan pulls Charlie up. He throws him into the corner. Then he uses the rope. He wraps it around Charlie's throat. Jordan pulls. Charlie claws at the rope. The referee screams at him. But Jordan doesn't care! JC: He's choking the life out of Charlie, just like he did to Jennie! JR: Jordan Penn is ruthless! Jordan releases. Charlie drops. Jordan walks toward the second corner. Charlie grabs the rope. Jordan stops. Charlie pulls. Jordan flies backward. Charlie gets up. Jordan is caught off guard. So Charlie charges! SPEAR. Jordan is folded in half. The crowd explodes. Charlie crawls. Jordan crawls. Both men reach for the rope. Charlie gets there first. He pulls Jordan up. STEUBENVILLE SCREWDRIVER! Jordan's skull hits the canvas. JC: THE STEUBENVILLE SCREWDRIVER! JR: That's one of the moves Charlie Nickles has used to put down Universal champions! Charlie grabs Jordan. He starts dragging him. Jordan grabs the bottom rope. Charlie pulls harder. Jordan refuses to move. Charlie backs up. Pulls. Jordan slides several feet. JC: CHARLIE IS DRAGGING HIM AGAIN! JR: Jordan Penn is finding out that the rope works both ways! Charlie pulls again. Jordan's body shoots across the canvas. Charlie pulls again. Jordan's head snaps backward. Jordan screams before he suddenly grabs Charlie's wrist. He wraps his legs around Charlie's. Charlie falls. Jordan begins throwing punches. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Jordan gets on top. HEADBUTT. HEADBUTT. HEADBUTT. Blood begins appearing across Charlie's forehead. Jordan wipes his own mouth. Looks at the blood. Smiles. JR: Now we're seeing the Jordan Penn I expected. JC: He's opened Charlie up! JR: And by the time Jordan gets done with him, Charlie might be the one who needs a mask! Jordan grabs Charlie. He lifts him. PENN KNEE. Charlie drops. Jordan grabs the rope. He begins walking. Charlie crawls. Jordan reaches the second turnbuckle. TOUCH. TWO. Jordan turns. He raises two fingers. Then he points them at Charlie. JORDAN: “Two.” The crowd rains boos down upon him. Jordan pulls Charlie toward him. Charlie stumbles forward. Jordan kicks him in the ribs. Again. Again. Again. Jordan grabs the rope. He wraps it around Charlie's arm. Then he pulls. Charlie's shoulder is twisted violently. Charlie screams. Jordan releases. Charlie collapses. Jordan kicks him in the ribs. JR: Jordan is dismantling him piece by piece. JC: But he isn't going for the corner. JR: That's what I don't understand. JC: I think for Jordan, this match is about more than just touching the four turnbuckle pads! This match is about proving a point! Jordan looks toward the third corner. He could go. He doesn't. Instead he grabs Charlie. JORDAN: “You know why you're here, right?” Charlie spits blood. Jordan grabs his jaw. JORDAN: “Because of me.” Charlie headbutts him! Jordan staggers. Charlie grabs the rope. YANK. Jordan flies forward. Charlie hits him with— COWBELL SHOT. CLANG. Jordan drops. Charlie picks up the cowbell. He looks at it. The crowd starts screaming. JC: Charlie has the cowbell! JR: And he is looking at that thing like he's about to commit a felony! Charlie swings- But Jordan ducks! The bell smashes into the turnbuckle. Jordan grabs Charlie from behind. GERMAN SUPLEX. Charlie lands. Jordan doesn't release. SECOND. Charlie lands. Jordan doesn't release. THIRD. Charlie lands. Jordan finally releases. Both men are down! But Jordan gets to his feet first. Bleeding now. His face beginning to swell. While Charlie is barely moving. Jordan grabs the rope. He drags Charlie upright. JORDAN: “Get up, bitch.” Charlie doesn't. Jordan kicks him. “I SAID GET UP.” Charlie gets up. Jordan grabs him. BELLY-TO-BELLY. Charlie lands. Jordan drags him. He walks toward the third corner. Charlie tries to pull him backward. Jordan stomps Charlie's hand. Charlie releases. Jordan touches the third turnbuckle. THREE. JC: THREE! JR: Only one more to go! Jordan looks back. Charlie is down. The fourth corner is right there. Jordan could finish this match. But he doesn't. Jordan begins laughing. He pulls Charlie up. JORDAN: “You hear them?” He points toward the crowd. JORDAN: “They want the old Charlie.” He backhand slaps Charlie. JORDAN: “So I'm going to give him to them.” Jordan grabs Charlie. He smashes his head into the final turnbuckle! Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Charlie's forehead is turning into a bloody stump! Jordan backs away. And then he charges! But Charlie moves! Jordan's shoulder crashes into the turnbuckle! Charlie grabs him- BULLDOG! Jordan's face hits the mat. Charlie falls beside him. Both men are bleeding. Both men are breathing heavily. The entire crowd is on its feet! JR: “Jordan had it! He had the match.” JC: “But Jordan wasn’t ready for this match to end! Jordan slowly rises. JC: “He wants to prove that he’s the greatest Bastard in XWF history! And there’s no better place to do it than on Night 3 of Red Dead Relentless!” Jordan grabs Charlie. JR: “That could be the biggest mistake of his life!” Jordan pulls Charlie upright. JORDAN: “I MADE YOU!” Charlie stares at him. Jordan punches him! “I MADE YOU, BITCH!” Punch. Punch. PUNCH!  Charlie stumbles. But Jordan grabs him. WHIP! Charlie flies across the ring. The bullrope pulls him back. Jordan swings. Charlie ducks. Jordan turns. Charlie hits him with a massive RIGHT HAND to the temple! Jordan falls! Charlie hits him. RIGHT HAND. Charlie hits him. RIGHT HAND. Charlie pulls him up- HEADBUTT! Jordan collapses to the mat. Charlie grabs the rope. He pulls. Jordan slides across the canvas. Charlie pulls again. Jordan's body flies. Charlie pulls again. Jordan hits the turnbuckle. Charlie pulls again. Jordan's face smashes into the turnbuckle. Blood splatters across the pad! JC: “OH MY GOD!” JR: “CHARLIE NICKLES HAS SNAPPED!” Charlie pulls Jordan away. Jordan falls. Charlie grabs him, wrenching his arms between Jordan’s shoulder blades- FOR A DEVIL HOOK DROP!!! Jordan's body folds! The crowd erupts! Charlie doesn't cover him. JC: “Charlie Nickles just hit Jordan Penn with one of the most devastating moves in all of sports entertainment!” JR: “I’ve seen that move end careers!” But instead of rushing to claim four turnbuckles, Charlie grabs the rope. And starts dragging Jordan. Jordan's body slides. Charlie walks. Jordan slides. Charlie walks. Jordan's boots scrape against the canvas. Charlie pulls harder. Jordan's face leaves a streak of blood across the mat. JC: “CHARLIE IS DRAGGING JORDAN PENN AROUND THE RING LIKE A RAGDOLL!” JR: “THIS ISN'T ABOUT WINNING ANYMORE!” JC: “I DON’T THINK IT EVER WAS, JOE!” Charlie pulls him to the corner. Jordan's body hits the turnbuckle. Charlie grabs him. COWBELL SHOT TO THE DOME! CLANG. Jordan drops. Charlie picks him up. COWBELL SHOT! CLANG. Jordan drops again. Charlie looks at the bell. He swings. Jordan ducks. The bell crashes into the ring post. Charlie turns. Jordan tries to attack. But Charlie catches him! SPINEBUSTER! The canvas shakes. Charlie immediately grabs the rope. DRAG. Jordan slides. DRAG. Jordan slides. DRAG. Jordan slides. JR: “Jordan Penn has become dead weight!” JC: “He can barely stand!” JR: “That's because Charlie Nickles has spent his entire career surviving fights exactly like this! I’m not sure if Jordan Penn realized what he was getting himself into!” Charlie drags Jordan toward the center. Jordan tries to crawl away. Charlie pulls. Jordan gets dragged backward. Jordan reaches toward the ropes. Charlie yanks. Jordan's fingers miss. Charlie drags him again. JR: “Look at him!” JC: “What?” JR: “Jordan Penn is trying to escape the rope!” JC: “He can't!” JR: “Exactly!” Charlie stops. He looks down at Jordan. Charlie grabs Jordan by the hair. He pulls him up. Jordan can barely keep his eyes open. Charlie says something. The camera catches it. CHARLIE: “You wanted the old Charlie?” Jordan's eyes widen. Charlie headbutts him. Jordan drops. CHARLIE: “You’ve got him!” Charlie grabs the rope. He starts walking. Jordan's body is dragged behind him. FIRST CORNER. TOUCH. ONE. Charlie keeps moving. Jordan barely reacts. SECOND CORNER. TOUCH. TWO. Jordan suddenly grabs the rope. He pulls. Charlie stops. Jordan gets one knee underneath himself. JC: “JORDAN'S STILL FIGHTING!” JR: “HOW?” Jordan pulls again. Charlie stumbles. Jordan crawls. He reaches Charlie. Jordan throws one desperate punch. Charlie catches his fist. Charlie looks at it. Then at Jordan. He headbutts him. Jordan drops. Charlie pulls. THREE. Charlie touches the third turnbuckle. Jordan is now essentially being dragged. Charlie begins walking toward the fourth. The crowd realizes what is happening. Everyone rises. Charlie walks. Jordan slides. Charlie walks. Jordan slides. Jordan's blood leaves a trail behind him. JC: “THE FOURTH CORNER!” JR: “JORDAN HAS NOTHING LEFT IN THE TANK!” Charlie gets closer. But Jordan suddenly grabs Charlie's ankle! Charlie falls. Jordan tries to crawl. The fourth corner is inches away. Jordan reaches. His fingers touch the padding. But he hasn't completed the sequence. Because Charlie's hand was on the third! Jordan cannot get there. Charlie stands. He looks down. Jordan reaches again. Charlie grabs the rope. YANK. Jordan is ripped away from the corner. The crowd erupts. Charlie pulls him across the ring. Jordan's body is barely moving now. As Charlie reaches the fourth corner. He pauses. Looks at Jordan. Then touches it. FOUR. DING! DING! DING! Winner - Charlie Nickles The bell rings and the crowd explodes! Charlie stands against the turnbuckle. His chest heaves. His face is covered in blood. His hair is matted against his forehead. The referee tries to untie the rope. Charlie doesn't move. Jordan is still lying on the canvas. The referee finally frees Charlie. Charlie looks down at Jordan. Jordan isn't moving. Charlie walks toward him. The crowd gets louder. Charlie picks up the bullrope. Jordan's eyes barely open. Charlie wraps the rope around his fist. He doesn't hit him. Instead— He pulls. Jordan's body slides across the ring. JC: “Charlie! The match is over!” Charlie pulls again. Jordan's body slides. Again. Jordan's head rolls sideways. Charlie pulls him all the way to the center. Then Charlie drops the rope. Jordan lies there. A bloody mess. Charlie looks down. No smile. No celebration. Just a cold, hard stare. JR: “Jordan Penn wanted to make a monster.” Charlie turns away. JR: “He wanted to prove that Charlie Nickles was nothing without him.” Charlie begins walking toward the ropes. JR: “He wanted to remind Charlie of everything he'd taken from him.” Charlie reaches the apron. JR: “And he wanted to punish Charlie Nickles.” Charlie stops. Looks back at Penn. Jordan is still lying in the ring. JR: “But Jordan Penn made one critical mistake.” Charlie looks directly at The Blacque Sheep. JR: “He forgot how dangerous the old Charlie Nickles was.” Charlie steps through the ropes. The crowd’s roar is deafening! But before Charlie walks up the ramp, he heads to the timekeeper’s table: where Sebastian’s old Universal Championship lay. With a strand of Jenny’s hair taped to it. Charlie rips Jennie’s hair off the old belt and sticks it in his shirtpocket. Then and only then, does The Nickleman finally walk up the ramp towards the exit. The sythinzied beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself. I stay out too late Got nothing in my brain That's what people say, mm-mm That's what people say, mm-mm As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary  Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro. JC: There she is, Marisol Vilaro, and there may not be another match tonight where the championship is only half the prize. JR: Oh, the belt matters. But making Summer Page stand there afterward and put it around her waist? Marisol might enjoy that even more. JC: These two used to be close. That friendship is long gone now, and tonight one of them gets to make the other publicly acknowledge who's walking away with the Revolution Championship. I go on too many dates But I can't make 'em stay At least that's what people say, mm-mm That's what people say, mm-mm Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them. But I keep cruisin' Can't stop, won't stop movin' It's like I got this music in my mind Sayin' it's gonna be alright Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls. 'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo) Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo) Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for the opponent to enter. JR: And don't forget Nessa Wall at ringside. Marisol is already dangerous enough when she's focused. Give her somebody in the corner helping keep that temper pointed in the right direction, and Summer Page has a problem. JC: Marisol is conditioned, technical, and absolutely ruthless when she sees an opening. JR: She's also convinced she's the smartest person in every room she walks into. JC: Sometimes she is. JR: That's what makes it annoying. S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs. Summer looks out at the crowd and raises her arms out to the crowd as the crowd cheers louder. Summer turns her attention to inside the ring where she motions to the referee to open the bottom and middle ropes so they can enter. Summer walks over to the closest ring corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle. JC: And here comes Summer Page, who knows Marisol better than most people in this company ever will. JR: Which cuts both ways. Marisol knows Summer too. They know each others habits, weaknesses, and which buttons to push. JC: And Summer has spent a lot of her career learning not to depend on somebody else to solve her problems for her. Tonight there isn't anybody who can solve this one except Summer Page. JR: Win the match, take the championship, and then make the woman you can't stand buckle it around your waist. JC: Or lose... and have to do it for her. DING DING XWF Revolution Championship Marisol Vilaro - vs - Summer Page Lucha de Apuestas ULTIMATE HUMILIATION: The Loser is forced to put the belt on the waist of the winner after the match Summer Page wastes no time moving toward the center of the ring. Marisol Vilaro does the same, but neither woman offers a lockup. Instead, they circle while taking each other in and waiting for the other to make the first mistake. JC: You don't normally see two wrestlers this familiar with each other having to figure much out. JR: Summer knows what Mari likes to do. Mari knows what Summer likes to do. Hell, they probably know what the other one had for breakfast. Marisol finally raises a hand and invites Summer into the lockup. Summer moves in, only for Mari to pull away at the last second. The crowd boos while Summer rolls her eyes and motions for her to quit screwing around. This time they meet. Marisol quickly muscles Summer into a side headlock and takes her over, but Summer immediately scissors the head with her legs. Mari kicks free and both women are back up quickly. Summer takes the waist, Marisol peels the hands apart and turns it into a spinning wrist lock, but Summer rolls through the pressure and reverses the hold. Mari tries turning out, but Summer releases and goes for the Backstabber! Marisol catches the ropes before Summer can pull her down, leaving Page to fall to the mat empty handed. Mari turns around with a smug grin, but Summer sweeps the legs and quickly lands a CODE RED! ONE! TWO!! Marisol kicks out! Both women scramble back to their feet, but they don't engage and instead stare at each other. JC: There's that familiarity. JR: Summer knew what Marisol wanted. Marisol knew what Summer wanted. Summer knew that Marisol knew what Summer wanted. JC: Please stop. Marisol steps in and gives Summer a shove. Summer responds with one of her own. Mari comes back harder and Summer fires a forearm across her jaw. Marisol answers with one of her own and suddenly the technical wrestling disappears as the former friends start swinging! Summer gets the better of it and sends Marisol into the ropes. She comes back looking for the Chick Kick, but Mari catches the leg and Summer has just enough time to realize she's made a mistake before Marisol cracks her with an ENZUIGIRI! Marisol makes a quick cover. ONE! TWO!! Kickout! Mari doesn't complain. She immediately drags Summer away from the ropes and turns her over into a HALF BOSTON CRAB! JC: Marisol going after that leg early. JR: Take Summer's leg and you take away the Chick Kick, the Superkick, the Moonsault and more importantly, you make her miserable. JC: I think Marisol values that last one quite a bit. Summer pulls herself toward the ropes, only for Mari to walk her back toward the center before sitting deeper into the hold. Summer pounds the mat in frustration and in response Nessa pounds the apron and screams for her to tap. Summer rolls onto her hip and kicks backward with the free leg, catching Marisol across the shoulder. The next kick lands on her chin and breaks the hold. Marisol comes charging back in, but Summer catches her by the head and plants her with a SNAP DDT! Summer hooks the leg. ONE! TWO!! Mari kicks free. Summer gets up favoring her leg. Mari reaches for it, but Summer hops backward and clubs her across the back and sends her toward the corner, but Mari reverses the whip and Summer hits the turnbuckles instead. Marisol follows her in, but Summer moves and sends Mari chest first into the corner! Summer grabs her from behind! SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX! Summer comes over looking for the cover, but Nessa starts shouting from ringside. Summer stops and they exchange words. Then Marisol attacks from behind with a SWINGING NECKBREAKER! JC: Nessa distracted Summer! JR: And that was the opening that Marisol Vilaro needed! Marisol gets back up and drops an elbow across Summer's chest. Rather than cover, Mari drops beside her and begins doing pushups. One. Two. Three. The crowd showers her with boos. Four. Summer pushes up and slaps Marisol across the face. Marisol jumps on Summer and the two roll across the canvas throwing punches until the referee finally wedges himself between them. JC: Well, there goes the wrestling match! Marisol gets up first and rushes Summer just as she reaches her feet. Summer fires for the CHICK KICK, but the damaged leg gives! Mari catches her! VILARÓIZER! Marisol keeps the bridge! ONE! TWO! THR... Summer kicks out! Marisol sits up with a look of absolute disbelief. JC: Marisol can't believe it! JR: I can't believe it! Marisol points over at the Revolution Championship sitting at ringside. Then toward her waist. Nessa applauds. Mari grabs Summer by the hair and pulls her up. Summer HEADBUTTS her! Marisol stumbles away and Summer comes after her with a series of forearms, driving the Revolution Champion into the corner. Summer keeps swinging after Mari covers up and the referee has to physically pull her away. JC: Summer Page has snapped! Summer brushes past the referee and charges again, but Marisol ducks out of the corner and Summer hits the turnbuckles hard and stumbling out of the corner. Mari grabs her by the face and rakes the eyes! The referee is all over her, which produces exactly zero remorse from Marisol. Summer turns blindly out of the corner. VILARO EXPERIENCE! The handspring elbow crushes Summer into the corner! Mari pulls her out and hooks both arms before throwing her over with a DOUBLE UNDERHOOK SUPLEX! She holds the bridge! ONE! TWO!! Summer gets out! Marisol stays on her immediately, dragging Summer from the canvas and bending her backward into the MARVELOUS STRETCH! Summer reaches instinctively for the ropes, but she's nowhere near them. Nessa screams from ringside for Summer to quit. Mari pulls back harder. Summer twists her body and manages to shift just enough weight to disrupt Mari's balance. Marisol tries to adjust, but Summer rolls through the hold and pins her shoulders! ONE! TWO!! Mari escapes and rolls toward the ropes while Summer works her way back to her feet. Summer grabs Mari by the ankle and pulls, but Marisol kicks her off and gets upright. Summer comes back in. EYE RAKE! JC: Oh, come on! JR: Marisol's technical background is really shining tonight. Summer stumbles blindly and Marisol tries to capitalize, but Summer catches her coming in and sends her around with a TILT-A-WHIRL INTO A RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP! The crowd pops as Summer gets back up. Nessa climbs onto the apron. JC: Get her down! JR: What!? Why!? She hasn't done anything! Summer walks toward Nessa and points toward the floor. Nessa tells Summer to turn around. Summer immediately does and sees Marisol charging! In a split-second reaction, Summer ducks! Mari stops herself inches before colliding with Nessa, but Summer grabs her! SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX! Summer pulls her back up. 1999! IMPAILER DDT! Mari's head is driven into the canvas and Summer hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! THREE... NO! Marisol gets the shoulder up! Summer falls backward and covers her face with both hands. JC: That was as close as you can get! JR: Summer thought she had it. JC: I thought she had it! JR: Nessa definitely thought she had it. Look at her. Nessa is pacing frantically at ringside as Summer slowly pushes herself back to her feet. Summer's eyes bounce from Marisol to the corner. The crowd rises. JC: Summer might be thinking MPME. JR: She's got one useful leg. This seems like an excellent idea. Summer starts climbing. The bad leg slows her down, but she gets to the top and steadies herself while Marisol remains flat on the canvas. Summer leaps! MPME! Marisol rolls out of the way! Summer sees it in time and manages to land on her feet, but the injured leg immediately buckles! Mari attacks it with a kick before Summer can recover. Summer drops to the mat and Marisol grabs her leg. HEEL HOOK! Summer cries out as Marisol twists! JC: Marisol has the Heel Hook! JR: She's been working that leg all match! Summer reaches for the ropes but comes up short as Marisol drags Summer farther away. Summer turns and kicks at her with the free leg and catches her across the face breaking the hold. Summer crawls quickly toward the ropes and pulls herself upright. They both charge! HIGH KNEE! Marisol staggers backward and Summer grabs her. PURE PERFECTION PERFECTPLEX! The referee slides into position! ONE! TWO! THR... MARISOL KICKS OUT! Both women remain down. JC: Neither one wants to be the woman who loses this match and then has to stand there and put that championship around the other's waist. JR: Hate is a wonderful source of cardio. Summer gets to her knees as Marisol does the same. Mari says something that the cameras don't catch. Summer responds immediately. The two get to their feet while trading forearms, neither giving much ground. Summer finally catches the wrist and tries pulling Marisol toward her, but Mari spins through into a SPINNING WRIST LOCK! Summer rolls with the pressure and kicks herself free. Marisol comes forward. ENZUIGIRI! Summer's head snaps sideways! But she stays up! CHICK KICK! Both women collapse! Nessa grabs the apron with both hands and screams at Marisol to move while the referee checks both competitors. JC: They both got all of that! JR: I don't think either one knows where she is now. Summer grabs the middle rope and starts pulling. Marisol reaches the opposite side and does the same. Both women use the ropes to drag themselves back to their feet. Then they turn around and stare at each other.  Summer's hurting, Marisol is exhausted, and Nessa is screaming. Both women push away from the ropes and meet in the middle of the ring. Summer goes for a european uppercut! But Mari dips backwards, before planting a boot in Page’s stomach! She hooks in a front-facelock, going for the… VILAROIZER! …But Summer hooks her ankle around Vilaro’s heel, blocking the move! Summer tries to turn it into… PURE PERFECTION! But this time Mari blocks it! JC: These women have met so many times, they both know each other’s moves like the back of their hand! JR: It really is going to come down to whoever misses first! Mari dips to one knee and gives Summer an uppercut to the gut! Summer doubles over! Mari tries to go up and over, looking for a sunset flip! …But Summer keeps her footing… And she grabs Mari’s legs! PERFECT 10 (Figure 8 Leg Lock)! JC: Summer’s got it! Summer’s got the Perfect 10 locked in! JR: Hang on, Mari! Mari’s face contorts in agony as Summer applies more and more torque… Mari’s hand shakes… But she refuses to give in… … UNTIL SUMMER BRIDGES BACKWARDS! JC: Agonizingi! The pain is too much! MARI TAPS OUT! Winner and NEEEEEEEEEEEEW XWF Revolution Champion: ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page! JC: She did it! Summer Page is now a TWO-TIME Revolution Champion! JR: And Mari lost the lucha de apuestas! That means… …Mari cradles her leg as the official takes the belt from the timekeeper… Summer moves to the center of the ring, smirking confidently… …Mari stews furiously as the official meekly offers her the belt. Mari snatches it from him! She peers around viciously as the crowd buzzes, knowing what’s to come. Summer guffaws as she places her hands on her hips… Mari literally holds her nose… As she clasps the belt around Summer’s waist! JC: She did it! Mari put the belt around Summer’s waist! JR: Knowing how bitter their rivalry is, that might have hurt even worse than the Perfect 10! Mari immediately takes hand sanitizer from Nessa to wipe herself clean of that moment, already plotting as she retreats up the ramp! Summer flexes, letting the belt on her waist speak for itself! As we fade to black! Scoops’ Dressing Room Scoops wraps tape around his shoulder, letting out an exhausted shudder, before rolling it, trying to get the blood flowing. ELON: Well, well, well… Scoops’s eyes dart ahead, his teeth grit. ELON: How does it feel, Scoops? How did it feel to play right into my hands? Elon Musk strolls beside Scoops, his hands steepled smugly. ELON: You got rid of that idiot Zuckerberg and that fool Bezos. Just like I wanted. Now, all that’s left is to make you induct me into the Hall of Legends. …Scoops grunts irritatedly, as he moves to taping up his fists. SCOOPS: Anyone ever say ya talk too much? …Elon bristles at the comment… before smiling snidely. ELON: Well, I’ll be talking plenty after you induct me into the Hall of Legends! I plan to thank everyone who made this moment possible… ME! ME! AND ME! SCOOPS: Uh-huh. Scoops nods like he’s half paying attention, as he lifts his boots to tie them. I’d say I hope ya got a backup plan for when I kick yer ninja’s ass… But honestly? I hope you don’t. I hope me winning knocks you flat on yer ass. Elon smirks, before pulling out a piece of paper. ELON: Sign this. …Scoops looks at it perplexedly. SCOOPS: The hell’s this? ELON: Contract. I had my lawyers draft up our agreement. If my champion wins, you induct me into the Hall of Legends… if he loses, I am compelled to sell my stocks. Scoops’s eyes narrow. Elon shrugs. ELON: I don’t sign anything ‘til I have to. What if I signed this and then you didn’t even beat Oz or Beetlejizz?!? What a waste of ink! …Scoops snatches the contract. And signs it. Elon grins and signs it as well. ELON: That’s the thing, Scoops. Elon rolls up the contract and pockets it, before walking backwards out of the dressing room. I **always** have a back-up plan… … Scoops sighs as he finishes tying his boots. SCOOPS: That boy’s nuttier than a dang peanut farm… JC: Here we are, the one for all the marbles! The third of a series of three matches where the ownership of the entire XWF is being contested! JR: And considering what happened in the first two, I can’t wait to see what goes down here! JC: You said it, Joe. The first two matches were mired in controversy, seeing Elon Musk’s hired gun, the mysterious ninja who goes only by a Twitter handle, actually HELPING Scoops McGee to knock out Zuckerberg and Bezos. JR: It’s friggin’ brilliant is what it is! Elon played everybody like a fiddle and now stands ready to have SOLE ownership of the XWF. JC: Well, maybe, but don’t forget Scoops McGee still stands between Elon and that reality. JR: But what happens if Scoops wins?! Who controls the XWF?! JC: I just don’t know, Joe! But at any rate I’m getting word that the former Universal Champion is set to make his way to the ring! The show is quickly interrupted by the sound of a distant synthesizer, followed up by horses neighing and galloping through the dirt. It fades out, leading into the riff of a guitar strumming a fiery tune. There's an inherent electricity building within the air of the arena, culminating as the drums kick in. As they do, the steadfast figure of Scoops McGee comes out from the back, a look of no nonsense etched onto his face as he takes a long look at the crowd and the squared circle. He nods, steadily walking to the ring and absentmindedly high-fiving any fans stretching out their hands who happen to be right in his way. But wait! The ninja is seen rushing down the aisle! He blindsides Scoops from behind! The fans boo uproariously at the cheap shot! JC: Oh come on! JR: I guess Elon’s guy just couldn’t wait! Elon Musk is then seen sauntering down the ramp behind the ninja, applauding with a smug smile on his face! The ninja then picks Scoops up and whips him towards the ring! Scoops hits the ring apron hard and the ninja stays on him, forcing Scoops into the ring where the bell finally sounds. Scoops McGee - vs - The Man Known as @getouttamyringerson If Elon’s champion wins, Scoops has to induct Elon Musk into the Hall of Legends, If Elon’s champion loses, Elon Musk MUST SELL HIS XWF OWNERSHIP The ninja stomps on Scoops as the champ tries to get to his feet, laying into him with brutal boots. Scoops goes to the corner, using the ropes to try to pick himself up, only to be met with a brutal roundhouse to the abdomen, and then another, and another! The ninja then takes hold of McGee’s head and runs his face across the ring rope, burning his eyes! This draws more boos from the crowd and more applause from Musk. He throws Scoops down disdainfully and pins him! 1…. 2…..NO! Kickout from McGee! The ninja chastizes the ref, demanding a faster count, before grabbing a helping of Scoops hair and tossing him into the corner. The ninja builds up a head of steam and charges scoops, but Scoops catches him when he goes for a splash and hits him with a rock bottom style slam! Scoops then locks in a headlock on the canvas, looking to slow things down. JC: This has got to be tough on Scoops, wrestling three matches night after night! JR: Yeah, and he’s no spring chicken. JC: I wasn’t gonna say it but damn it you’re right! The ninja starts to fight his way to his feet, landing a couple elbows to Scoops midsection before running the ropes! Scoops goes for a clothesline on the rebound but the ninja ducks under and nails Scoops upside the head with a flipping pele kick! He then kips up as Scoops goes down to one knee and goes for that vicious buzzsaw style finishing kick…. …..but Scoops ducks just in the nick of time! He catches the ninja and hits him with a reverse atomic drop, followed by a lariat that drops his opponent! Scoops then double leg takedowns the ninja and synches in a boston crab! JC: Scoops still trying to slow things down and keep the match at his pace. Scoops leans waaaay back on the hold, and the ninja reaches for the ropes. Elon catches the ninja’s hand and starts to pull him towards the ropes! JC: Hey ref! The ref catches the interference too late and Scoops breaks the hold, wheeling about on Musk and offering him some choice words. Elon waves Scoops off disdainfully but while Scoops is distracted the ninja leaps on his back and hits a lungblower! He covers Scoops again! 1…. 2…….NOOOOOO! Another kickout from Scoops! The ninja stays on McGee, raining down elbows on his forehead before forcing him up again, measuring him, and laying into him with another brutal kick. He goes for a second, but McGee catches the leg and hits a deep leg drag. The ninja rolls to his feet only to be met by a boot to the gut and a snap DDT! McGee makes the cover now! 1…. 2……..NOPE! The ninja powers out! McGee grapples his opponent up into a snapmare, followed by another headlock. But the ninja counters with a series of punches to McGee to make him break the hold. Both men get vertical and go for clotheslines and they succeed at trading blows and knocking each other to the canvas. Musk slaps his hands on the mat, urging his guy on! JC: Is it just me or does Elon look a little concerned here? JR: I think it’s just you man. Elon looks totally in control! Both men get up again. Scoops goes for a punch but the ninja blocks and counters with a chop, followed by a couple more, forcing McGee into the corner. The ninja rains down a series of knee lifts on the former champ, before throwing McGee to the canvas, kipping up to the top rope and hitting a picture perfect moonsault! The ninja covers again! Elon looks ecstatic! 1…. 2…. 3…..NOOOOOOOO! Another kickout from Scoops! Elon runs his hand down his face in consternation, looking very disappointed. The ninja measures Scoops, waiting for him to get up so he can tag him in the side of the head with a brutal boot. McGee falls into the ropes. The ninja irish whips Scoops and hits him on the rebound with a springboard back elbow off the middle rope! Scoops goes down again! JC: I just hate to say it but Scoops is not looking good here. JR: Three nights of fighting just might have been too much for him! Meanwhile, Musk is cheering his guy on from the outside, again beaming with confidence! The ninja goes to the rop rope again and waits for Scoops to stagger up. He takes flight….. …..but Scoops catching him mid air with a brutal European uppercut! The fans pop! Scoops lands on top of the ninja in a cover! 1…… 2……. 3……….SO CLOSE BUT NOOOOOOOOOO! Musk’s eyes are bugging out of his head, he turns away from the action for a moment as though he can’t bring himself to look! But when he turns back around, he seems to be rummaging around in his jacket for something. JR: Elon looking like he’s on a mission here, but what? Elon finally pulls out some brass knucks! He waits for the ref to check on Scoops before sliding them into the ring to the ninja, who rolls on top of the knucks to conceal them as he puts them on his fist!  JC: Oh damn it! He’s got the knucks!! Scoops gets up wearily. The ninja rises, holding one hand over the knuckles of his other hand to conceal the weapon until the perfect time to strike! Scoops turns! The ninja reals back a fist! JR: Wait! Who the hell….?!! JC: It’s….it’s…..KRISTOFFER ARROYO! [/white] Kristoffer explodes down the ramp past Elon, slides into the ring and catches the ninja’s arm before he can strike Scoops! The ref and Scoops look on in surprise as Kris spins the ninja around and…..SINKS HIS TEETH INTO THE NINJA’S NECK! The fans pop! JC: Kristoffer finding the weak spot in the ninja’s armor and taking a bite!!! JR: Kris was pissed about the match he was booked in on NIght Two, but I didn’t think he was this pissed! JC: Arroyo taking his revenge on Elon for trying to get him killed! Musk’s face goes white! He clutches his hair and looks about ready to panic! The ninja flails, pushing Kris away and turning right into a kick to the midsection from Scoops! Scoops lifts the ninja up for A DYNAMITE BOMB! The fans EXPLODE! Elon looks like he’s going to be sick!  JR: OH MY GOD! ELON’S OWNERSHIP! A desperate looking Elon Musk slides into the ring and hits a dirty low blow on Scoops!!! Scoops crumbles and the ninja escapes! HUGE JEERS FROM THE CROWD! The ref intervenes, attention caught between Kristoffer and Elon! The ref goes to reprimand the owner but Elon retorts angrily! ELON: IF YOU DISQUALIFY MY GUY YOU’RE FIRED! The ref looks torn! But then, Kristoffer grabs hold of Elon! The fans pop again! Kristoffer throws Elon out of the ring, tossing him between the ropes! The owner goes ass over tea kettle to the outside! Kris then grabs the ninja’s hand and pries the brass knuckles off his fist before sliding out of the ring, taking a moment to flip Elon the bird before heading to the back! The fans pop for Kris as he goes, thanking him for the assist. Meanwhile, back in the ring, the ninja is vertical but weaponless clutching the bleeding wound in his neck. Scoops pulls himself up in the corner, looking like he’s ready to spit fire! Meanwhile, back in the ring, the ninja is vertical but weaponless, clutching the bleeding wound in his neck. Scoops pulls himself up in the corner, looking like he’s ready to spit fire! The crowd rises with him. The old veteran wipes the blood from his mouth. Then looks down at his own hand. The hand that has delivered the Cattle Prod. The hand that has carried him through decades of wrestling. He balls it into a fist. Across the ring, @getouttamyringerson slowly straightens. His neck is bleeding. His chest is heaving. But his eyes remain fixed on Scoops. Neither man moves. Then Scoops steps forward. The ninja steps forward. They meet in the center of the ring. FOREARM! Scoops rocks him! The ninja answers with a kick! Scoops staggers! FOREARM! The ninja reels! KICK! Scoops doubles over! The ninja grabs him by the head and tries to drive a knee into his face! Scoops catches the leg! INVERTED ATOMIC DROP! The ninja folds! Scoops grabs him! DDT! The canvas shakes! Scoops collapses beside him! Neither man moves! The crowd starts clapping. Slowly at first. Then louder. “SCOOPS!” “SCOOPS!” “SCOOPS!” Scoops hears them. He rolls over. The ninja hears them too. He rolls onto his stomach. Both men begin crawling. Scoops grabs the ropes. The ninja grabs the turnbuckles. They pull themselves upright. Scoops turns— The ninja charges! SPRINGBOARD BACK ELBOW! NO! SCOOPS DUCKS! The ninja lands behind him! Scoops turns around— LARIAT! The ninja is nearly turned inside out! Scoops falls onto him! ONE! TWO! THR— NO! THE NINJA KICKS OUT! The crowd erupts! Scoops stares at the referee. He doesn't argue. He simply nods. He knows what he has to do. He drags himself upright. The Ninja is on his knees. Scoops grabs him by the head. He hooks the arms. He shifts his weight. The crowd knows it. THE BIG SCOOP! Scoops lifts! The Ninja wriggles! He slips free! He lands behind Scoops! Scoops turns— BUZZSAW KICK! CRACK! The kick lands flush! Scoops' entire body goes limp! He falls backward! The Ninja collapses beside him! Elon Musk clutches his head at ringside! JC: “THE BUZZSAW KICK!” JR: “THAT'S IT! THAT HAS TO BE IT!” JC: “SCOOPS McGEE HAS BEEN HIT FLUSH!” JR: “AFTER THREE NIGHTS OF THIS, HE CAN'T POSSIBLY GET UP!” The Ninja drapes an arm across Scoops' chest! ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! SCOOPS KICKS OUT! THE ARENA EXPLODES! The Ninja sits upright in disbelief! Elon's jaw drops! The referee holds up two fingers! Scoops is barely conscious! But his shoulder is off the mat! JC: “HE KICKED OUT!” JR: “HOW?!” JC: “HOW DOES HE KEEP DOING THIS?!” JR: “THAT WAS THE BUZZSAW!” JC: “AND SCOOPS McGEE JUST REFUSED TO STAY DOWN!” The Ninja stares at Scoops. For the first time all match— He looks uncertain. Scoops' eyes slowly open. He sees the Ninja. He sees Elon. He hears the crowd. And somehow— he smiles. The Ninja rises. Scoops tries to rise with him. The Ninja grabs him. Knee to the ribs! Another! Another! Scoops falls against the ropes! The Ninja grabs him by the wrist! Irish whip! Scoops rebounds! The Ninja goes for another kick— SCOOPS CATCHES IT! The crowd ROARS! Scoops twists! LEG DRAG! The Ninja hits the mat! Scoops immediately grabs the leg! MERRY-GO-ROUND! The spinning toe hold! The Ninja screams! Scoops twists! The Ninja claws at the canvas! Scoops rotates again! The knee bends! The Ninja reaches! Scoops pulls him away! Elon screams from ringside! The Ninja refuses to quit! He rolls! He kicks! Scoops loses his grip! The Ninja scrambles backward! Scoops gets up! The Ninja gets up! Scoops charges! CATTLE PROD! NO! The Ninja ducks! Scoops' forearm cuts through empty air! The Ninja catches him from behind! LUNG BLOWER! Scoops crashes! The Ninja covers! ONE! TWO! NO! SCOOPS KICKS OUT! The Ninja rolls away! Both men are down again! The crowd is standing! The referee checks both! Neither man answers! Five seconds! Ten! Fifteen! Finally— Scoops moves. The Ninja moves. Scoops crawls toward the ropes. The Ninja crawls toward the opposite corner. Both men pull themselves up. Scoops turns. The Ninja charges! Scoops catches him! SIDEWALK SLAM! The Ninja crashes! Scoops doesn't cover. Instead, he drags himself into the corner. He looks at the Ninja. He looks at his left forearm. He takes one breath. Then another. The Ninja slowly rises. Scoops charges! CATTLE PROD! The short-arm left forearm connects! CRACK! The Ninja's head snaps backward! He staggers! Scoops grabs him! He hooks him! The crowd erupts! THE BIG SCOOP! SCOOP SLAM PILEDRIVER! BOOM! The Ninja is planted! Scoops collapses across him! ONE! TWO! THREE— NO! THE NINJA KICKS OUT! The crowd cannot believe it! Scoops rolls onto his back! Both men are motionless! Elon looks like he's about to vomit! JC: “HE KICKED OUT OF THE BIG SCOOP!” JR: “THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!” Scoops sits up. His eyes are glassy. His body is shaking. The Ninja rolls onto his stomach. Scoops crawls toward him. The Ninja crawls toward Scoops. Neither has enough left to stand. They meet in the center of the ring. Both men are on their knees. Scoops raises his left arm. The Ninja raises his right. … JC: “WAIT…” JR: “NO.” JC: “THEY'RE BOTH…” Scoops starts slowly circling… As does the Ninja… JC: “Shades of Karokuen Hall! Shades of Shimizu Kenji right now! JR: The cows are coming home! We’re gonna see some cattle prods! The crowd rises to their feet! Scoops pulls his arm back. The Ninja pulls his arm back. CATTLE PROD! CATTLE PROD! CRACK! BOTH FOREARMS CONNECT SIMULTANEOUSLY! The sound echoes through the arena! Scoops' head snaps backward! The Ninja's head snaps backward! For one second— Neither man moves. Then— Scoops collapses backward. The Ninja collapses forward. His body lands directly across Scoops' chest! The referee looks down. Scoops' arms are motionless. The Ninja isn't moving either. But he's on top. The referee drops! ONE! TWO! THREE! DING! DING! DING! Winner: @getouttamyringerson The arena ERUPTS! The Ninja's arm is barely lifted by the referee. Scoops remains underneath him. JC: “THREE!” JR: “NO!” JC: “THREE!” JR: “AFTER EVERYTHING!” JC: “@GETOUTTAMYRINGERSON HAS DONE IT!” JR: “THE NINJA WON!” The crowd is booing, beside themselves… The Ninja exhaustedly turns over Scoops exhausted… And Elon Musk… … …… His eyebrow is twitching. JC: What the hell? Shouldn’t Elon be giving himself a charlie horse patting himself on the back right now? JR: …Perhaps he’s feeling so much joy in this moment, he doesn’t know how to express it. …Elon stares off into the middle distance as the official raises the Ninja’s arm, like he’s trying to work out a rounding error. …Eventually, he glances around and starts clapping. ELON: Uh… yes! Yes! Haha! My champion, of course! JC: What the hell just happened? JR: Maybe he was spending a moment to remember just how rich he is! He’s VERY rich, Jacuinde! Elon climbs up the steps… Ringerson tries to shove off the mat, but his legs are too jelly from one hell of a match to get back upright. Elon spends a moment trying to help him up… But Elon lacks the strength, so he just gives him a pat on the back… Finally, he beckons for the microphone from the timekeeper. ELON: There! Haha! Yes! My champion defeated you, Scoops! Scoops squints, pressing his hands into his forehead, looking every bit like he’s a sixty-four year old man who wrestled three back-to-back nights! ELON: Now! GET UP! We’re doing the Induction RIGHT NOW! Elon beckons Scoops stand up! ELON: Introduce me! And do it right! JC: Oh this is just… disgusting! I hate this! I can’t believe Elon Musk is making Scoops McGee do this! Scoops slowly rises up to one knee… ELON: Hurry up! Up up up! Quick, before… Elon pauses. ELON: Go go go! …Scoops grunts angrily… he snatches the microphone… JC: Oh my God… is he really gonna? JR: Of course, he will! Scoops is a man of his word and he lost fair and square! Scoops looks around at the crowd irritatedly… Elon rolls his hand in a circle urging him along. JC: This is odd, though. It feels like Elon is rushing through this? It feels like he should be savoring it… Scoops takes a breath, mentally holding his nose, shaking his head… SCOOPS: Folks… *sigh*... JC: What?!? JR: NO WAY! Who marches from behind the apron?!? JEFF BEZOS! Elon is beside himself as Jeff beckons for a microphone! ELON: YOU LOST, JEFF! YOU’RE ALREADY GONE! SECURITY! BEZOS: Oh, don’t worry, Musk. I’m about to leave. … BEZOS: But not before I tell everyone about the… Contract I found uploaded on your Grok account. JC: Contract? What’s that maniac talking about? Elon’s face turns white… BEZOS: See… I thought it was odd that the stipulation changed in your match… Just a little… So, I opened your safe. And found a copy of the contract you signed before the match. Bezos unfurls the contract. BEZOS: If Elon’s champion wins, Scoops has to induct Elon into the Hall of Legends…[/b JC: What’s Bezos’ point? We all knew that was the stip! [b]BEZOS: Elon’s champion… SCOOPS MCGEE! JC: What?!? Wait, WHAT?!? …Elon grits his teeth. …Scoops side-eyes Elon, trying to figure out what the hell is going on… BEZOS: It was too delicious to resist, Musk. You already tricked Scoops into eliminating two of your co-owners… So, you wanted to use Scoops against himself. It was poetry. You switched horses at the final lap… But who would have figured you should have stayed on the same horse? JC: Is that true? Did Elon really… Wait, does Elon have to sell his stake in the XWF?!? JR: It’s not true! It’s IMPOSSIBLE! …Elon tries to laugh. ELON: Nice try, Jeff. For an IDIOT! Elon points accusatorily. ELON: That contract is a FRAUD! FAKE NEWS! How can you even prove you got that from my safe?!? You can’t! It’s an elaborate con! …Bezos shrugs. BEZOS: Gee, I guess you’re right, Musk. If only there was some way we could know for sure… Like… I don’t know… … The original contract you signed. The one in your pocket. Elon’s eyes widen. JC: That’s right! Elon pocketed the contract after he and Scoops signed it! JR: It’s gonna vindicate Elon! It’s gonna show Bezos is lying! … Elon looks nauseous. His hand reflexively goes to cover his pocket. ELON: Oh, I… uh… I didn’t… Um… Elon clears his throat. ELON: I actually… changed pants! Nope, no contract in this pocket! In fact, I… THWIP! A hand slips into Elon’s pocket and comes right out! Elon turns around! JC: @getouttamyringerson just picked Elon’s pocket! JR: Whose side is he on anyway?!? @getouttamyringerson raises the contract to his face! ELON: Give that back! You’re my talent! I OWN YOU! …@getouttamyringerson extends his arm, like he’s about to hand it back. Elon breathes a sigh of relief, reaching… …Until @getouttamyringerson tosses it over Musk’s head! To Scoops McGee! ELON: No! NOOOOO! GIVE THAT BACK! Scoops eyes it, checking the contract! ELON: It’s… no! Wait! NO! Scoops grins ear-to-ear! SCOOPS: Ya dumb sumbitch… Ya outplayed yerself. ELON: NO! NOOOOOOOOOO! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! Elon charges Scoops! CATTLE PROD! Elon spins off McGee’s elbow! Straight toward @getouttamyringerson! CATTLE PROD! JR: Someone stop this! JC: You can go if you’d like, Joe! JR: …Someone else, stop this! Elon spins back toward Scoops, looking already like he’s unconscious on his feet! CATTLE PROOOOOOOOOOOD! And Elon drops looking DEAD on the mat! ELON MUSK MUST SELL HIS XWF STAKE JC: UNBELIEVABLE! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! Elon Musk must sell his XWF ownership! He tried to use Scoops one last time and just lost everything! JR: But who will be the new owner of the XWF?!? JC: Tune in next Warfare to find out! [/b] ”Folks, we inducted Micheal Graves last night to the Hall of Legends. But our review board, while they unanimously agreed Graves was deserving of an induction… They also voted unanimously to induct a second nominee. It’s unheard of, it’s insane… but when you learn who the nominee was, it only makes sense.” “To induct our honoree tonight is an XWF Legend, inducted just last year! Please join me in welcoming… MARK FLYNN!” Sayors politely steps off-stage, clapping as he leaves… The crowd gets respectfully loud as Mark Flynn takes the stage, looking even beardier and more feral with a year off competition. ”Hey, how ya doin’.” He nods politely, as he pulls a set of notecards from his pocket. ”Your inductee tonight didn’t go her entire career undefeated like The Brand.” “She didn’t have a historically long run with the Universal Title.” “And, for the record, she’s never beaten me.” … ”She did draw with Michael Graves once though! Who I was not and am not!” … Flynn laughs as he folds up the cards, before leaning over the podium. ”What tonight’s inductee did couldn’t be summarized in a pithy list of accomplishments like some people.” “Instead, she did what everyone standing in the back wants to do, but few ever truly accomplish.” “She connected.” “She was the soul of the XWF, and the beating heart which connected this company to its fans!” “When she suffered a setback, you could feel every heart in the building shatter.” “When she lost her way, you felt half the crowd pray for her to find it, and the other half go off the cliff with her.” Flynn laughs to himself… “And when she ascended to win the Uni, the world celebrated all over.” “She’s the avatar of unbridled joy in this sport.” “And I’ve been truly blessed to call her a colleague, a comrade, and a friend.” “Tonight, we honor a name who is synonymous with the XWF.” “Who represents some of the most powerful storylines and moments to ever be captured in the ring!” “Please join me in welcoming to the stage…” “Your newest XWF Hall of Legends inductee…” “DOLLY WAAAAAAATEEEEEEEEEERS!” Dolly takes the stage in an all-black suit, her blonde hair tucked beneath a black beret. She raises her right fist to shoulder height. Flynn mirrors the gesture before they embrace, exchanging a few smiling words beneath the applause. Flynn straightens her jacket, then steps aside. Dolly pulls a crumpled, scribble-covered Denny’s napkin from her jacket and sets it on the podium. She studies it, shaking her head as she gathers her thoughts. The audience remains standing, whistles cutting through the applause. She looks up, green eyes glistening, places a hand over her heart, and mouths, “Thank you. Again.” The crowd starts a chant: ‘THANK-YOU-DOLLY!’ *clap clap clap-clap-clap* ‘THANK-YOU-DOLLY!’ *clap clap clap-clap-clap* Ya know, I… Her lips tremble through a smile. I wanna… The words catch. The chant grows louder before finally settling. It’s funny… When I got the invitation fer’ tonight, I panicked. Scribbled some notes down, but they never quite captured what my time here in the XWF has meant to me. Turns out, I could’ve saved myself the trouble. She holds up the napkin. Becasue our old friend Schism replaced my notes with this crumpled-up Denny’s napkin… and I can barely read a damn thing. Somethin’ about champagne and Super Soakers and She squints, turning it sideways. …“Daniel Craig makes for a lousy Southerner”? The crowd laughs. Dolly shrugs. Who knows? Last year, I said there was no greater honor in my career than inducting Mark Flynn into the Hall of Legends. Mark… I meant that. I still do. She turns toward him. Gettin’ to tell somebody you love what they’ve meant to you, and what they’ve meant to the industry they’ve bled for? You don’t get many better opportunities. But it looks like I get another one tonight. And fer’ the record… I am VERY proud of that draw with “Michael Graves”. Would’ve loved fer’ you to see that match. Could’ve learned somethin’. She winks. Flynn folds his arms, shaking his head as the crowd laughs. There we go. That feels more like us. I was thirteen when I first joined the XWF. Thirteen! I knew I wanted to be a wrestler. I knew I wanted to be the Universal Champion. And I knew, with the absolute certainty of a thirteen-year-old, that everybody who thought I couldn’t do it was a dumbass. A little laughter. I still stand by some of those assessments. But I didn’t know how many people I’d meet along the way. How many of ’em I’d love. How many of ’em I’d love and still want to kick directly in the fuckin’ head. Sometimes on the same night. I thought it’d be straightforward. Show up. Work hard. Win the big one. Then everybody would know I belonged. My version involved a few detours. Bad decisions. Terrible business ventures. An irresponsible amount of money spent on a treasure map. And a championship belt with my own face on it. She closes her eyes as the room laughs. Yeah. We’re allowed to laugh at that now. Patel was laughing then. Mostly out of financial distress. I wish he could see this. He’d wanna know what the suit cost. She sniffles, brushing a thumb along the napkin. There are people I wish were here tonight. Madison Dyson would’ve told me to stop crying before I reached the microphone. Probably would’ve called me a bitch, too. Which, from her… She exhales through a trembling smile. …you knew what she meant. I miss ’em. And I’m grateful I got to know them. Even when remembering hurts a little. Corey Smith… You gave me somewhere to live when I needed it. You made room fer’ me without askin’ what I could win for you in exchange. You didn’t tell me I had to become champion before I was worth having around. You wanted me to do something that made me happy. Back then, that meant getting back into the ring. And when my body couldn’t keep doing it, you were still there. Same friend. Same place fer’ me in yer’ life. I don’t know how to thank you enough fer’ that. Thad… my brother from another mother. When that bell started ringing at Leap of Faith, I thought they were really gonna do it. After everything. After all those years. The Corporation was going to kill the dream fer’ good. Then you came down that ramp. You made them let me finish. I’ll never forget that. But I won’t forget the years before it, either. All the arguments, the ridiculous things we got ourselves into, and the love and friendship worth having the arguments for. ALIAS… Thank you fer’ taking my dream seriously. Even when I was standin’ across the ring tryin’ to take something from you, you helped me see more in myself than I knew what to do with yet. And Mark… She turns toward Flynn. Thank you fer’ what you said tonight. And fer’ the things you’ve said when there wasn’t a crowd around to hear ’em. Especially the things I didn’t wanna hear. You’ve always been real generous with those. Flynn grins. I love you, Comrade. She looks across the room. And there’s Vinnie Lane, who took a chance on me… And Dawk, who mentored me… And Game Girl, who showed me love when I was most unlovable… And Teekay… And Atty… And yes… even Charlie… So many people gave me an opportunity, a match I’ll never forget, a conversation I needed. A reason to laugh when everything was fucking miserable. People who gave me a place in their lives and let me be part of their stories. Whatever you remember about Dolly Waters, there’s a whole lot of you in what I remember about being her. I haven’t always been somebody I was proud of. There were times I thought getting even was the same thing as getting better. I made choices that hurt people. People I cared about. And I had to do more than change what I called myself to make that right. Some of you stood beside me. Some held me accountable. I’m grateful fer’ both. Because when I finally walked into Lexington to fight fer’ that championship, I knew who I was. I knew what I wanted. And I knew I wanted it to mean something beyond finally proving the dumbasses wrong. She smiles. But I wanted to win. Don’t turn me into some saint who didn’t care about the belt. I cared a whole goddamn lot. There was a little girl who’d waited years to hold it. When the referee handed it to me, I finally got to be happy fer’ her. …and I still am. But I knew what it had cost. I didn’t want the next person to lose that much of themselves just to find out how good they could be. I wanted them to say something hurt without being told they didn’t want it badly enough. I wanted us to have a say in the place we were giving our lives to. That was the promise. She lifts her eyes toward the back of the room. And the people who stood with me made it bigger than a promise I could make by myself. We built a Union. Not perfect. Not finished. Definitely not free of arguments. But real. When it was threatened, I went back fer’ it. Not because I thought there was another career waiting afterward. Because I wanted it to still be there when mine was over. I’m proud of that. And, Schism… She lifts the napkin. …despite serious concerns about yer’ filing system, I’m proud you and the others are carryin’ that work forward behind the scenes. It belongs to everybody in it. Take care of it. Take care of each other. And please buy a fucking notebook. The room laughs, then applauds. When Dolly speaks again, her voice is softer. There’s something about Leap of Faith 2025 I keep coming back to. Not the count. Not the fireworks. Y’all carried me out of that stadium. I’d spent the whole night tryin’ to stay on my feet. Hiding how hard that had become. Then there were all these hands. People I’d never met. I didn’t know where the next step was gonna be. I didn’t have to. Y’all had me. Her mouth trembles. She gives herself a moment. Mark said I connected. Well… I felt it too. I need y’all to know that. Every time you cheered. Every time you got mad at me… Lord knows I earned some of those. Every time you remembered something I’d done that I didn’t realize anybody had noticed. It wasn’t just me out there tryin’ to make you feel something. You made me feel something too. The applause starts. This time, she smiles into it. When I look back, I’m gonna remember the whole thing. There are parts I don’t miss. Things I’ll never pretend were alright. But I’m not givin’ those things all the good memories, too. They don’t get Corey. They don’t get Thad comin’ down that ramp. They don’t get the matches that made me fall in love with this all over again. And they sure as hell don’t get that night in Lexington, Kentucky. She places her hand over her heart. Those things are mine. Ours. I’m keepin’ ’em. For a moment, she simply looks around. Then a small laugh escapes her. I don’t know exactly what comes next. A big change from the girl who held victory press conferences before the fuckin’ match. But I’m excited to find out. And I get to take all this with me. Not just tonight. All of it. She folds Schism’s napkin and slips it inside her jacket. This honor means more to me than I’m ever gonna fit into one speech. But you haven’t made my time here mean something tonight. You made it mean something while I was living it. Tonight, I just get to tell you. Thank you fer’ making room for me. Thank you fer’ giving me so many reasons to love this place. And thank you fer’ letting me be part of something we made together. The chant rises again. THANK-YOU-DOLLY. She laughs through the tears, shaking her head. Thank you. I’m so glad I got to be here with y’all. Goodnight. Dolly steps back from the microphone, and blows the crowd a kiss with her fingers, turning them into a peace-sign. Flynn meets her before she has to work out what to do with her hands next. She wraps them around her friend. The sound of a vintage picture reel began to click and pop, the screen illuminating up counting down like a picture show. The pops, scratches, nicks and debris covered the screen, the numbers counting down, 5...4....3....2....1....as the reel continued, electric synth music cuts, industrial and ominous ##The road I walk is paved in gold### ##To glorify my platinum soul## ##I'll buy my way to talk to God## ##So he can live with what I'm not## On the screen, a barrage of action shots, in still form from Apathy's career, centered and fixated, like an old film would. As the arena went down, red and white lights bathing the fans in a sea of color, Elizabeth rises from beneath the stage, head lowered, arms outstretched. A mixed chorus of boos, jeers and cheers pelted at her. She gradually raises her head, soaking in the animosity and fervent support. Inhaling it like a drug… ##This selfish blood runs through my veins## ##I gave up everything for fame## ##I am the lie that humans are## ##I feed the rich and fuck the poor## TODD: And there she is! Apathy! And despite her name, she looks absolutely LOCKED IN for this match! BAMA: Apathy won one hell of a match against Atara Raven! And as a result, she got to pick her choice of either singles Thursday night title! TODD: And she went all-in on the top belt on Thursdays! Miss Furry’s Anarchy Title! As the heavy bass kicks in and the words  reverberate through the arena, she snaps her head up, a cocky self-assured smirk creeping across her lips as she saunters her way to the ring casually engaging towards the fans either encouraging more of their venomous verbal harassment or acknowledging the respect and adoration from her legions and devotees, basking in the glow #I got what you want# #It just don't stop# #I got what you want# #It just don't stop# #This is entertainment# #Lies are entertainment# #You are down on your knees# #Begging me for more# … The lights dim as the opening drums of She's My Collar roll through the arena. Miss Furry steps out slowly, but doesn’t acknowledge the crowd. TODD: It’s shocking that Apathy chose Furry when she won her choice of Thursday night titles, Bama! Furry has been untouchable since she became Anarchy champion! BAMA: Apathy’s never one to go for the easier meal! She’s an industry legend for a reason, Toddrick. But I gotta agree, Furry’s a real toughie these days! She’s beaten back challengers like Cent, Myst, and just about everybody else on Anarchy! TODD: But she’s never taken on Apathy one-on-one! Will Furry’s reign continue, or will Apathy add yet another title to her accolades! She calmly walks the ramp and slips between the ropes with minimal effort. She settles into the corner, leaning back casually, licking her paw and cleaning herself in preparation of the upcoming match. … The Anarchy Championship hangs above the ring. TODD: Twenty feet of temptation. Twenty feet of pain. BAMA: And twenty feet between Miss Furry and the next chapter of her Cinderella story. Or twenty feet between Apathy creating a whole new Era on Thursday night! The bell rings. DING! DING! DING! [b]XWF Anarchy Championship Miss Furry - vs - Apathy Ladder Match Miss Furry doesn't move. Neither does Apathy. The two women stand across from one another, watching. Furry's eyes are moving. Shoulders. Hands. Feet. Apathy notices. Apathy's expression barely changes. TODD: “Neither woman wants to make the first mistake here. Remember what Furry said—she doesn't have to overpower Apathy. She has to figure out where it hurts.” BAMA: “Well, I done figured out where it hurts, Todd.” TODD: “Where?” BAMA: “Getting hit by Apathy.” Apathy steps forward. Furry steps backward. Apathy takes another step. Furry circles. Then— Furry shoots low! She grabs Apathy's leg and immediately drags her down! Apathy catches herself on one hand— Furry is already wrapping around the ankle! She tries for the leg snare! Apathy twists! SHORT KNEE! Furry eats a knee to the ribs and releases! Apathy rises. Furry retreats. Apathy advances. Furry darts in again. ARM DRAG! Apathy hits the canvas! Furry immediately transitions into a grounded headlock! Apathy's massive frame rolls toward her! Furry adjusts! Apathy tries to sit up— SHORT KNEE TO THE RIBS! Apathy grimaces. Furry hits another. And another. Apathy suddenly plants both feet! She powers upward! Furry's eyes widen— OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY! Furry goes flying! She crashes onto her back and rolls beneath the bottom rope. Apathy doesn't follow. She looks up. At the championship. Then back down at Furry. TODD: “Apathy could go for the ladder immediately.” BAMA: “And give that little cat exactly what she wants? Nah. Big girl ain't stupid. She knows climbing too early leaves ya a sittin’ duck to get picked off by that mangy alley cat!” Furry pulls herself up using the apron. Apathy walks toward her. Furry swings! Apathy ducks! Furry's forearm catches nothing! Apathy grabs her around the waist! Furry immediately attacks the hand! One punch. Two. Three. Apathy's fingers loosen. Furry spins— RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP! Apathy crashes onto the floor! Furry scrambles up! She grabs the ladder! She pulls it free from the barricade! The crowd erupts! Furry slides it into the ring! Apathy gets to her feet. Furry looks at the ladder. Looks at Apathy. Then she tosses the ladder aside, and charges with a… RUNNING FACEBUSTER! … NO! Apathy catches her! She catches Furry around the waist! Furry's feet leave the ground! Apathy spins— SPINNING NECKBREAKER! Furry's head snaps against the mat! Apathy rolls away, breathing heavily. She rubs her neck. Her eyes drift upward again. The championship. She grabs the ladder. Sets it in the center. Apathy starts climbing. One rung. Two. Three. Furry is still down. Four. Five. Furry rolls over. Six. Furry sees her. She scrambles toward the ladder! Apathy reaches upward! Furry grabs her ankle! Apathy looks down. Furry pulls! Apathy loses her balance! She drops one foot! Furry climbs after her! Apathy swings down— SHORT-ARM FLYING CLOTHESLINE! Furry falls backward! Apathy shakes out her knee and starts climbing again! Furry sits up! Apathy’s already halfway up! Furry suddenly grabs the bottom rung! She shakes it! Apathy's eyes widen! Furry pulls again! The ladder tilts! Apathy jumps! BOOM! She lands on the mat! Furry catches the ladder before it falls! She swings it sideways! CRACK! The edge catches Apathy across the ribs! Apathy doubles over! Furry drops the ladder! BASEMENT KICK! Right into Apathy's chest! Apathy staggers backward! Furry follows! RUNNING CORNER KNEE! Apathy's body jolts! Furry backs away. Apathy remains against the turnbuckles. Furry charges again— Apathy moves! Furry crashes into the corner! Apathy catches her from behind! SUPLEX TO THE CORNER! Furry is launched backward! She lands hard! Apathy drops to one knee. Her breathing is heavy. She looks at the ladder. Then at Furry. She slowly picks it up. TODD: “Apathy is beginning to understand what Miss Furry is doing. She sees Furry is trying to outpace Apathy… Furry’s trying to run her older, larger opponent out of gas…” BAMA: “She's beginning to understand she oughta quit chasing the cat and start stomping the cat.” Apathy sets the ladder upright. She doesn't climb. Instead, she walks toward Furry. Furry gets to her feet. Apathy grabs her! DOUBLE UNDERHOOK BACKBREAKER! Furry folds over Apathy's knee! Apathy keeps her there! She lifts! Furry's body drops! Apathy goes for the follow-up— Furry slips free! She lands behind Apathy! SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE! Apathy ducks! Furry ducks! Both women turn! COLLISION! Forearm to forearm! They stumble backward! Furry fires first! FOREARM GRIND! She drags her forearm across Apathy's face! Apathy shoves her away! Furry comes back! Apathy catches her! CHICKEN WING GUTBUSTER! Furry folds! Apathy lifts her again— MICHINOKU DRIVER! Furry is planted! TODD: That would for sure net Apathy a three-count! BAMA: She can cash that in with ten punches and get a free frozen yogurt! No pinfalls in this match! She’s gotta pull that belt down from the toppa that ladder! Apathy crawls toward the ladder. Her knee buckles. Just for a second. Furry sees it. Her eyes narrow. She gets up. Apathy grabs the ladder. Furry attacks the leg! BASEMENT KICK TO THE KNEE! Apathy's leg gives! The ladder slips from her hands! Furry hits the knee again! KICK! Again! KICK! Apathy swings! Furry ducks! Apathy turns— KISS OF DEATH! Furry's back is driven across Apathy's knee! Apathy presses down! Furry screams! Apathy lifts her— BIG BOOT! Furry collapses! Apathy stands over her. She looks at the championship. Then at Furry. Then at the ladder. Apathy grabs the ladder. She positions it. She starts climbing. One step. Two. Three. Four. Her injured knee trembles. Five. Furry is moving. Six. Apathy reaches the top half of the ladder. Furry pulls herself upright using the ropes. Apathy reaches toward the championship. Furry grabs the ladder! She shakes it! Apathy's body rocks! Furry climbs! Apathy kicks downward! Furry catches the boot! She yanks! Apathy falls backward! CRASH! The ladder collapses! Apathy hits the canvas! Furry lands beside her! Neither woman moves. The crowd is roaring. TODD: “They've been fighting for minutes, and neither one can afford to make another mistake.” BAMA: “Making mistakes? Todd, at this point they should be making making appointments with an orthopedic surgeon. Both these women have been beat all the way to hell ‘n back!” Furry crawls toward the ladder. Apathy rolls onto her stomach. Furry gets there first. She grabs the ladder. Apathy reaches for her ankle. Furry kicks! Apathy releases! Furry pulls the ladder upright! She starts climbing! Apathy grabs the bottom! Furry climbs faster! Apathy pulls! The ladder shakes violently! Furry reaches halfway! Apathy yanks! Furry falls! CRASH! Furry lands across the ladder! Apathy grabs her! SUPLEX CUTTER! Furry's head snaps! Apathy falls backward! Both women are down again! Apathy slowly sits up. Furry isn't moving. Apathy looks at her. For just a moment, she doesn't see an opponent. She sees every person whose memory she carried into this match. Every grave. Every photograph. Every name. Every reason she should have quit. Apathy wipes blood from her mouth. She gets up. TODD: “She's still going.” BAMA: “That's the problem with old wrestlers like Apathy, Todd. Some of 'em don't know when they're supposed to stop.” Apathy grabs Furry by the wrist. She pulls her upright. Furry fires! JAWBREAKER! Apathy stumbles! Furry immediately goes low! LEG TRAP! She rolls! Apathy's leg is caught! Furry hooks! Apathy twists! ONE! TWO! Apathy kicks free! Furry doesn't hesitate! She goes after the leg! Apathy kicks! Furry catches it! She traps the ankle! Apathy punches downward! Furry ducks! Apathy's fist hits the mat! Furry rolls through! CAT'S CRADLE! Snapmare! Furry sprints! LOW DROPKICK TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! Apathy's face smashes into the canvas! Furry rolls away! She looks at the ladder. Then back at Apathy. She grabs Apathy's ankle. Apathy grabs the bottom rope instinctively— Furry smiles beneath the mask. She drags Apathy away! CAT SCRATCH FEVER! The crossface is locked in! Furry drives her forearm across Apathy's face! Apathy's hand slaps the mat! Once! Twice! Furry cranks back! Apathy reaches! There is nowhere to go! She claws at Furry's arm! Furry shifts! Apathy's hand suddenly grabs Furry's wrist! She pulls! Furry is dragged over! Apathy rolls! BRIDGING SUPLEX INTO PUMPHANDLE SLAM! Furry is driven into the mat! Apathy collapses beside her! Both women are down! TODD: “What a move by Apathy! That may have been the difference-maker!” BAMA “Difference-maker? You done said that about six times!” Apathy rolls toward the ladder. Furry rolls toward the ladder. Both reach it. Both grab it. Both pull. The ladder slides between them. Apathy wins the tug. She pulls it toward herself! Furry lunges! Apathy swings the ladder! CRACK! Furry goes down! Apathy drops the ladder! She picks it up again! Furry crawls! Apathy swings! Furry ducks! The ladder slams into the turnbuckles! Apathy turns— NINE LIVES LOST! NO! Furry jumps! Apathy catches her! Furry spins! Apathy tries to hold her! Furry slips free! She lands behind! Apathy turns! Furry goes for the cutter! Apathy shoves her away! Furry rebounds! Apathy catches her! DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR! SUPERMAN PUNCH! Furry staggers! Apathy hoists her! Furry spins! Apathy drops her— F10! Furry goes face-first into the mat! The arena explodes! Apathy rolls onto her back! She is exhausted! She looks upward! The title! The ladder! She crawls. One hand. Then the other. She reaches the ladder. Apathy pulls herself upright. She starts climbing. One rung. Her knee shakes. Two. Her hands tremble. Three. She stops. Breathes. Four. Five. Furry begins moving. Apathy keeps climbing. Six. Seven. Furry grabs the bottom! Apathy looks down! Furry shakes the ladder! Apathy clings to it! Furry starts climbing! Apathy climbs higher! The ladder sways! Furry climbs! Apathy reaches the top! Furry reaches the top! They are side by side now! Both women are standing atop the ladder! The Anarchy Championship hangs directly above them! The crowd is deafening! Apathy reaches upward! Furry reaches too! Apathy sees her! And suddenly— SMASH! Apathy grabs Furry by the head! She slams Furry's face against the top of the ladder! BANG! Furry's body goes limp for a moment! Apathy grabs her again! BANG! Furry slumps against the ladder! Apathy turns toward the championship! Her hand rises! Her fingers brush the belt! The crowd erupts! Apathy reaches! Her fingertips hook around the championship! She starts pulling! Furry's eyes open! She looks at Apathy! Then down! She sees the knee! Apathy's injured knee! Furry kicks! THUD! Right into the knee! Apathy's leg buckles! Her entire body drops! She catches herself against the ladder! Furry reaches for the championship! Apathy's arm shoots out! She grabs for Furry! Furry twists! And catches Apathy around the neck! Apathy's eyes widen! Furry drops! NINE LIVES LOST! THE CUTTER! FROM THE TOP OF THE LADDER! Apathy's body falls! FACE-FIRST! She crashes onto the canvas! The entire arena comes unglued! Furry hangs against the ladder! She doesn't move! Then one hand grips the rung. She pulls. One rung. Another. Another. Furry climbs. Apathy lies motionless below. Furry reaches the top. She looks down at her fallen challenger. For one brief moment, there is no smile. No celebration. Just recognition. She knows exactly what it took. Then Furry turns. She reaches upward. Her fingers close around the Anarchy Championship. She pulls. THE BELT COMES FREE! DING! DING! DING! Winner and STILL XWF Anarchy Championship: Miss Furry Todd: “MISS FURRY HAS DONE IT! SHE HAS DONE IT! HER REIGN CONTINUES!” Furry clutches the championship against her chest! She sits atop the ladder! The crowd roars beneath her! BAMA “That little furry critter just survived a damn war!” TODD: “She was outmuscled! She was outmatched physically! Apathy nearly had the championship in her hands!” BAMA: “And then that cat found one more life!” Furry looks down. Apathy still hasn't moved. Furry's breathing is ragged. She touches the championship. Then looks at Apathy. The challenger slowly rolls onto her side. Her eyes open. She looks upward. At Furry. At the championship. Apathy closes her eyes. Not defeated. Just exhausted. Furry raises the title high. [/b] JR: Three nights of Relentless have led to this. Every match on this card has been building toward one final image, and it is going to happen right here. JC: The Universal Championship. A man who stole it. A man who built an empire around it. And a man who has already died and come back for it once before. There is no bigger match in this company's history. JR: Samael Dyson has held that title since cashing in on Sebastian Everett-Bryce, and he has not had one clean night's sleep since. Tonight SEB gets his answer, and Micheal Graves is standing right in the middle of both of them, wanting it just as badly. JC: Somebody is bleeding tonight, Joe. Maybe all three of them. Suddenly, the arena goes black. Then some haunting music creeps in over the PA system as static flickers across the X-Tron and a thick fog rolls onto the stage. Micheal Graves steps through the curtain, stopping at the top of the ramp as strobe lights flicker across his face like a horror villain. Quick cuts of in-ring violence flash across the X-Tron as Graves starts down the ramp, ignoring the few fans who are reaching out for him. Once he's at ringside, he stops and sniffs the air with a crooked grin. After a brief moment, he slides under the bottom rope and crawls across the canvas, stopping in the center of the ring where he slowly rises and tosses his cape aside. Finally, he backs into his corner and waits for the violence to begin. Fame by Royal Deluxe kicks in. Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame With each of the hits of the word “Fame” a spotlight flashes back and forth between the stage and a random spot in the audience. On the screen, the images alternate between key moments from the career of Sebastian Everett-Bryce, S.E.B. and Empire. After the final Fame, the lyrics end. Na, na, na, na… The screen flashes with the words Welcome to the Empire. As the beat drops, Sebastian Everett-Bryce flings his arms wide, lit up by a bright spotlight, his head covered by the hood of his jacket. He stands in the middle of the ramp, the lights beating down on him, before looking out at the crowd. He wears a long jacket, zipped to the waist. The jacket, which is cut away at the bottom and only runs down the back of his legs, is patterned with an elongated Union Flag, but it appears to be cracked, and broken. Distressed. His tights are short, with the initials S.E.B. emblazoned upon the front. Fame makes a man take things over Fame lets him loose, hard to swallow Fame puts you there where things are hollow It's not your brain, it's just the flame That puts your change to keep you insane (sane) The lights lift and Seb makes his way to the ring, stretching his neck from side to side as he walks, he slaps hands with fans as he walks, stopping with a random fan and staring into the camera and shouting “My Empire, right here!”. He climbs up the steps and steps through the ropes before standing in the middle of the ring. Fame, what you like is in the limo Fame, what you get is no tomorrow Fame, what you need you'll have to borrow Fame, fame, fame, fame Fame, fame, fame, fame He pulls back his hood. Is it any wonder? Is it any wonder? Is it any wonder? Is it any wonder? (Ooh) The beat drops again, he flashes his arms out to a side, a satisfied smirk upon his face, he holds the position for a moment, to allow the crowd to take pictures, before pulling off his Jacket to reveal “EMPIRE” on the back of his tights. As his music comes to an end, Seb backs to the corner and leans, with a satisfactory smirk upon his face. The arena descends into a kaleidoscope of strobe lights of various colors, inducing feelings of disorientation and illness in everyone present as the unsettling beat of “SICKO” by Health and Godflesh starts to play. The main screens come alive with a montage of eerie imagery of death, graphic pornography, blood, surgical scenes, and occult imagery (see the video for SICKO for an idea of what you’re seeing), interspersed with the words “DO AS THOU WILT”, “SODOMIZE THE INNOCENT”,  “DO CRIMES” and “BE EVIL”  throughout the imagery almost like subliminal messaging. Samael Dyson hits the stage, flanked by Ubermensch and a score of his sack wearing Insignificants. He's wearing a wrestling singlet with images of various sex acts airbrushed onto it. He orders the Insignificants to lay down in front of him and he walks on them like a human bridge as he makes his way to the ring. He slides under the bottom rope as U.M. stands at ringside. Sam then vigorously humps the canvas, screeching like a lunatic at the camera before getting to his feet and pacing the mat, muttering to himself and yelling at the fans in the front row. JR: I don't think I will ever get used to that entrance, Jacuinde. JC: Nobody is supposed to get used to it, Joe. That's the whole point of him. The referee calls for the bell and the Insignificants scatter around ringside like roaches just outside the barricade. Security tries to push the group back as the bell finally rings. All three men circle for only a moment before Graves and SEB both turn on Dyson at the exact same time, the unspoken logic of the champion being the biggest threat winning out immediately. Dyson bails to the floor to buy himself time, screeching at his Insignificants for help, and inside the ring Graves and SEB are left to size each other up alone. SEB shoots in for a quick double leg, transitioning smoothly into a snap suplex, and Graves is back up almost immediately, absorbing the impact like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. SEB tries a second suplex and Graves blocks it, muscling him up instead for a fallaway slam that sends SEB crashing into the corner turnbuckles. Graves follows with a series of heavy handed bitch slaps that echo through the arena before Dyson finally slides back in and breaks it up with a low, cowardly dropkick to the back of Graves' knee. JR: Dyson waiting on the outside, letting these two hammer each other before inserting himself. Smart, if you can call anything that man does smart. JC: There is nothing honorable about Samael Dyson, Joe. That's not an insult. That's just a fact of the universe at this point. Dyson goes to work on the downed Graves with a flurry of awkward, unorthodox strikes, biting at his forehead and raking his eyes before SEB drags him off by the hair and plants him with a picture perfect DDT, popping immediately into a kip up that gets the loudest reaction of the night so far. SEB chains directly into a German suplex on Dyson, bridging for a two count before Graves is back up and breaks the pin himself with a boot to SEB's skull. The match spills to the outside in a hurry. Graves whips SEB hard into the barricade, and SEB reverses it at the last second, sending Graves crashing through a row of chairs set up at ringside instead. Dyson, seeing an opportunity, slides a table out from beneath the ring apron and sets it up against the announce desk, screeching instructions at his Insignificants, who begin to swarm. JR: We've got interference incoming! Referee's trying to keep control and he is completely outnumbered!! The referee ejects three Insignificants from ringside just as SEB catches a fourth with a suicide dive that clears out the rest of the pack entirely, sending bodies scattering in every direction. Ubermensch tries to slide into the fray from the crowd barrier and gets intercepted by security before he can lay a finger on anyone, dragged away hissing the entire time. With the table Dyson set up still standing against the announce desk, SEB drags the champion up by the collar and marches him toward it, setting up for a suplex right through the wood. Dyson claws desperately at SEB's eyes to fight it off, and for a moment it looks like it might actually work, until Graves comes charging in from the side and simply clotheslines both men through the table at the same time, all three of them disappearing into a pile of splintered wood as the crowd absolutely erupts. JC: THROUGH THE TABLE! ALL THREE OF THEM WENT THROUGH THAT TABLE, JOE!! JR: I don't think there's a person in this building sitting down right now, Jacuinde. The referee begins a slow count as ringside attendants scramble to clear away the debris, and all three men stir at roughly the same time, each dragging themselves up using whatever is nearest, the announce desk, the barricade, each other. Graves is the first back inside, rolling under the bottom rope at eight, with SEB following a beat later, leaving Dyson alone outside clutching at his ribs. Back inside, Dyson catches SEB with a low blow the referee somehow misses, then whips him into the corner for Black Masterpiece, hanging him up spread eagle on the top rope before delivering a running kick directly to the groin that drops SEB in a heap. Dyson covers. 1! Kickout, and Dyson is already back up, dragging SEB by the hair toward the ropes for a tree of woe before stomping away at him with pure, gleeful malice. JC: This is a man who genuinely enjoys hurting people, Joe. Look at his face. JR: I've stopped trying to understand what goes on in Samael Dyson's head. I don't think he understands it either. Graves finally rolls back into the ring, blood now trickling from a gash above his eyebrow courtesy of the chairs outside, and catches Dyson from behind with a massive spinebuster that shakes the entire ring. He does not go for a cover. He simply starts stomping Dyson into the mat with the same joyless, methodical violence he's shown his entire career, driving a forearm into Dyson's face for good measure between strikes. SEB uses the moment to recover, climbing to the top rope and connecting with the first half of the Markham Missile, a spider suplex that sends Dyson crashing into the center of the ring. Dyson rolls through, groggy, staggering up directly into a moonsault diving headbutt that puts him flat on his back. SEB covers. 1! 2! Graves breaks it up at the last possible second, dragging SEB off by the ankle and slingshotting him face first into the top turnbuckle. The crowd is roaring now, the kind of noise that only happens once or twice a year, and all three men are bleeding in some capacity, the canvas slowly staining beneath them. Dyson crawls to the ropes and screams something incoherent at the crowd before reaching beneath the ring apron himself and pulling out a steel chair. He cracks Graves across the back with it once, twice, a third time, until Graves finally turns and rips the chair out of his hands, staring him down with pure, cold fury. JR: Uh oh. I don't think that was the reaction Samael Dyson was hoping for. Graves swings the chair and Dyson ducks at the last second, the impact instead catching SEB square across the skull as he rises up behind them, opening a fresh cut above his hairline that immediately begins pouring blood down his face. Dyson cackles with delight at the sheer accident of it, only to eat a chairshot of his own a second later as Graves refuses to let anyone off the hook tonight. Dyson stumbles to the ropes and, in a flash, sticks two fingers down his own throat and vomits directly into Graves' face, the crowd groaning in disgusted unison as Graves staggers back blinded, clawing at his own eyes. JC: A BOUQUET OF ROSES! He just did that on the biggest stage of the year!! JR: I have seen a lot in this business, Jacuinde. I have never gotten used to that particular move. Dyson capitalizes immediately, hitting a sloppy sitout piledriver on the blinded Graves before turning his attention to SEB, staring deep into his eyes as blood runs down both their faces, mesmerizing him for just long enough to land a series of unanswered strikes. SEB stumbles backward into the ropes, dazed, and Dyson charges, only to be caught out of nowhere with a picture perfect Empire Kick that nearly takes his head off. SEB collapses on top for the cover. 1! 2! Dyson gets a shoulder up and the arena loses its mind. Graves, vision finally clearing, drags himself up using the ropes and pulls SEB away before he can attempt a second cover, locking in a brutal Boston crab in the center of the ring instead. SEB screams, clawing for the ropes, and just as it looks like he might have no answer, he reaches back and manages to grab Graves by the wrist, twisting his own body enough to turn the hold into a small package that nearly steals the win out of nowhere. 1! 2! Kickout from Graves, and both men are up trading forearms in the center of the ring, each shot landing wetter and heavier than the last as blood flies with every impact. JR: These men are trying to kill each other, Jacuinde. I mean that. There is nothing left in this but survival at this point. JC: Somebody needs to stop this match, Joe, and nobody is going to. The two of them stagger to their feet using each other for support more than anything else, and the crowd rises with them, sensing the match is building toward its final act. Somewhere behind them Dyson has finally crawled back up onto the ring apron, watching the two men wear each other down with the patient, predatory grin of someone who has no intention of doing any more work than he has to. Graves finally wins the exchange with a headbutt that puts SEB down, following immediately with a Grave Digger, his Death Valley Driver, that plants SEB directly onto the exposed steel chair still lying in the ring. The impact is sickening and the crowd reacts as one enormous gasp. Graves covers. 1! 2! Kickout, somehow, and Graves cannot believe it, screaming at the referee that it should have been three. He drags SEB up for a second attempt, looking to finish it with Cradle 2 The Grave, but SEB fights out of the lift with a series of desperate elbows and rolls through into the Stamford Bridge, catching Graves in a bridging tiger suplex pin born entirely out of desperation. 1! 2! Kickout from Graves this time, and both men are left staring at each other from the mat, neither one quite able to believe the other is still moving. Dyson, using the distraction, slides back in and low blows Graves from behind, dropping him instantly, before signaling toward the ramp with both arms raised. The Insignificants who managed to avoid ejection come sprinting down with a massive steel gauntlet, already wrapped in oil soaked cloth, and Dyson slides it onto his right hand with a manic grin as one of them produces a lighter and sets it ablaze. JR: He's calling for it! The Flaming Thumper Heart Punch! His father's finisher!! JC: Somebody needs to get out there and stop this, this is genuinely dangerous!! SEB, still down from the chair impact, is dragged up by his hair and propped against the ropes, completely unable to defend himself as Dyson winds up with the burning gauntlet raised high. The flaming fist connects square in the center of SEB's chest with a horrific thud, the smell of scorched fabric hitting the front rows as SEB drops like a marionette with the strings cut, motionless. Dyson drops down for the cover, a wide, insane grin spreading across his blood streaked face as the referee slides into position. 1! 2! Out of absolutely nowhere, Micheal Graves comes flying across the ring in a full bull rush, spearing the celebration right out of Samael Dyson before the three count can land, both men crashing through the ropes and onto the ring apron in a heap. JR: GRAVES! WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?! JC: HE SAVED THE MATCH! HE JUST SAVED THE ENTIRE MATCH!! Graves hauls Dyson up by the throat right there on the apron, the champion still smoldering gauntlet and all, and without a shred of hesitation hoists him up and drills him with Graves Consequences, the Razor's Edge, launching Dyson clean over the top rope and down to the floor below in a crumpled, motionless heap outside the ring entirely. The momentum of the move carries Graves backward at the same instant, and his own exhausted legs simply give out beneath him. He collapses forward, pushing himself into a certain direction, landing directly across the chest of Sebastian Everett-Bryce! The referee, seeing two shoulders down and a cover made, dives in for the count without a second's hesitation. 1! The Insignificants rush over the barricade and pull Dyson to his feet! 2! Holding him high into the air and push him back onto the apron!!! 3!!!! But Dyson is too late to stop the count!!! WINNER AND NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION - MICHEAL GRAVES!!!! JR: IT'S OVER! IT'S OVER! MICHEAL GRAVES JUST WON THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP!! The bell rings again and again, the referee snatching the battered Universal Championship from ringside and holding it aloft as the building absolutely detonates. Graves rolls off of SEB slowly, looking almost confused by the belt being shoved into his arms, staring down at it for a long moment as blood drips steadily from his forehead onto the leather plate. Outside the ring, Samael Dyson pushes hair from his face in disbelief, screaming something incoherent up at the ring as two Insignificants help drag him back toward the curtain, robbed of the title in the single worst possible way for a man who prides himself on control. Ubermensch watches from the crowd barrier with something unreadable behind his eyes. True to form, Graves does not celebrate. He simply slings the title over one shoulder, steps over Sebastian Everett-Bryce's motionless body without a word, and walks back up the ramp alone as Insert Coin by Slipknot begins to play, leaving the referee behind to check that the man he just accidentally pinned is still breathing. JR: What a night. What an absolutely insane night of wrestling, Jacuinde. JC: Relentless will never top this, Joe. I don't care what they book next year. This was the biggest match this company has ever seen, and the man who just won it doesn't even look happy about it. Celebrations continue as Michael Graves raises the Universal Championship high into the air. The crowd pops, as Sebastian Everett-Bryce climbs to his feet, and stumbles towards the centre of the ring. Graves turns, and comes face-to-face with SEB, who stands with his hands on his hips. He lets out a small burst of laughter, and shakes his head, before offering a nod of respect for the Champion, before reaching down, taking his arm and raising it to the sky. The crowd show their respect for Gravy. As SEB releases his arm, Graves returns the small show of respect, by stepping back to the corner. Sebastian Everett-Bryce stands in the centre of the ring, and turns on the spot drinking in the atmosphere of the Red Dead Relentless crowd. When he faces the camera again, there are tears in his eyes. As one by one, he turns to each of the four sides of the crowd, mouths the word “Thank you” and offers them all a bow. He rubs his hand across his face, trying to push away the emotion, but it’s no good - Seb turns one last time to Michael Graves and offers a final show of respect - a mimed hat tip. And with that, SEB turns and climbs out of the ring, heading back up the ramp. When he reaches the top, he takes in one final moment looking out at the crowd, before kissing his fingers and saluting the crowd in attendance. He turns and leaves through the curtain, and in the ring, Graves returns to his much-deserved celebrations. The cameras linger on Graves' silhouette disappearing through the curtain, the Universal Championship glinting under the arena lights, as the broadcast fades to black on the chaos still unfolding in the ring behind him. A special thanks to all of our wonderful matchers writers ‘Massive’ Dong Lichter Peter Principle MAIN EVENT MC EDGECRUSHER And our orgasmic segment writers Dolly Waters Micheal Graves MAIN EVENT MC EDGECRUSHER And of course, an extra special thank you to everyone who RPed! ~FIN RELENTLESS~ RE: XWF Presents: RED DEAD RELENTLESS NIGHT THREE - Charlie Nickles - 09-21-2026 Damn, now THATS WHAT I CALL A PAY PER VIEW!!!! Congrats to Graves and Summer Page and Safari Stu and Judd Hollow and everyone else who had huge title wins across Relentless!!! I would also give my body in exchange for getting to see Dyson v Graves 1-on-1 at some point…so if anyone wants to make a deal…. And huge thanks to the handler of Jordan Penn! The Penn/Nickles feud stretched all the way back to March Madness and it’s great to have gotten such a huge payoff for all the promos and segments and angles. Definitely one of my favorite Charlie feuds of all time!