This no-rules, no-holds barred tag match takes place INSIDE The Boneyard! The only way to win is by pinning one of your opponents, or forcing one of them to submit!
Each team may submit a single 2,000 word RP OR two 1,000 word RPs!
If Marisol defeats the champion in this singles match, they earn a shot at the Revolution Championship at Bad Medicine!
Prior to the show beginning, we see Dick Lichter standing outside the Little Caesars Arena with members of the XWF crew, making final preparations for the show before the crowd arrives. He looks over a few papers and points to various parts of the building when a white Lexus pulls up to the very front doors of the building. The car turns off and out steps a man in his early 50’s, wearing a suit.
LICHTER: You can’t park there.
MAN: Mr. Lichter. You’re exactly who I’m here to see. I’m former governor Eric Greitens.
Greitens and Lichter both stand there awkwardly as Lichter waits for Greitens to continue. When he realizes he won’t get any further information, he pushes forward.
LICHTER: The former governor of…Michigan?
GREITENS: Missouri.
LICHTER: Ok, well then I’m going to need you to explain to me why I should give a fuck.
GREITENS: I am here on behalf of my personal friend and client, Elon Musk. Otherwise known as the richest man in the world, and you’re boss.
Lichter’s expression changes to one of concern.
GREITENS: I was sent here to handle some business since Mr. Musk does not feel like you can properly guarantee his safety on your show.
LICHTER: That’s unfair, I totally…
GREITENS: CONSIDERING a certain fired former wrestler somehow weaseled his way into the tag title match at Leap of Faith, it’s very obvious to Mr. Musk that you’ve lost control of the brand. And so we need to reevaluate your position as Anarchy General Manager. Meet me in the ring.
Greitens storms away, leaving a very worried Lichter standing in the parking lot.
Main Event Ish hits and he walks out behind the XWF Universe wearing an Yeet Sunglasses and a Yeet shirt with a Fetu logo on the side of his pants and a Yeet on the right side and he makes a stop near the steps and raise his hands up and wave'em his Yeet hands and the Universe was following him and they were doing it alone side with him and he kepts on walking down the stairs and slapping kids and adults high five and making his way down the ring…
TODD: There he is! The man they call ‘Main Event’! Jay Fetu!
BAMA: Toddrick, what the hell is a ‘Yeet’ and why are all these people yelling it?
TODD: It’s an interjection! Gen-Z slang used to express surprise, approval, or excited enthusiasm!
BAM: …Nope, still don’t get it!
TODD: You don’t have to, Bama! All you have to get is that Jey Fetu has been killing it since his debut! We watched him eliminate El Landerson in the Leap of Faith Qualifier, and he managed to win a huge triple-threat match this past Warfare! But can he keep his momentum going against the biggest challenge of his career to-date?
Jey climbs over the barricade and sees two Commentary of Bama and Todd slapping hands aloneside with Jey Fetu and he gets inside of the ring in climbs on the top rope and continues waving his Yeet hands towards the Universe and he gets down and the XWF Universe shouts replay it once more and he does and gets right back up on the top rope and repeat the same Yeeting with the Universe and hops down and music fades and waits for his Opponent to appear…
Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.
TODD: Mister Oz! One of the biggest, strongest tanks in the XWF! An absolute powerhouse!
BAMA: He’s a damn BEAST, Toddrick! He’ll leave that Fetu in a body bag! He’s hearing all this yeet, yeet, yeet nonsense and he’s like “oooh, so?”
TODD: Breaking the Fourth Wall there, Bama.
BAMA: I have no idea what you’re referring to.
Jay bounces on his heels, removing his stunner shades, ready to sprint out of the starting gate.
But Mister Oz doesn't move. He stands in the center of the ring with his arms spread wide, soaking in the adoration of his students gathered around ringside. His lips curl into a serene smile.
TODD: Mister Oz is looking like he’s content to let Fetu set the pace when the bell rings.
BAMA: It’s a damn invitation. A challenge. A command. Come to me and take your trip to the woodshed, ya idjit!
MR. OZ
- vs -
JAY FETU
X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!
HIGHLIGHT REEL
The moment the bell rings, Jay Fetu explodes from his corner with a…
SUPERKICK.
The shot cracks across Oz's jaw!
TODD: Jay Fetu wasting absolutely no time!
BAMA: That's because Jay Fetu knows exactly what he's got! One YEET! One mistake! Lights out!
Oz stumbles—
Fetu rebounds!
FETU SPEAR!
The impact folds Oz in half and sends him skidding across the canvas!
TODD: SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR!
BAMA: BOY CAME OUT THE GATE THROWIN' HAYMAKERS!
Fetu hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
Oz powers out.
The crowd erupts.
BAMA: Wow! Fetu’s here lookin’ to do what he said in his promo and avenge hisself for what Oz did in the Leap of Faith qualifier!
TODD: On that topic, what *did* Oz do, considering he wasn’t in that match and also didn’t appear?
BAMA: …I’ll get back to you on that, Todd.
Oz rises slowly.
Smiling.
Almost amused.
Fetu snarls.
The expression alone makes his temper flare.
He charges again.
Running forearm!
Hip attack!
Another superkick!
Oz is rocked backward into the corner!
Fetu charges!
Corner Enzuigiri!
The kick snaps Oz's head sideways!
TODD: Jay Fetu is overwhelming Mister Oz!
BAMA: Oz thinks he’s some kinda God. Turns out God's getting his ass kicked!
Fetu grabs Oz—
Northern Lights Suplex!
Bridges!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Oz kicks free and starts rising again…
TODD: Oz is looking more like he’s getting impatient than like he’s getting beat…
Both men scramble up.
Oz suddenly catches Fetu by the throat. And heaves him off his feet!
BEAR HUG!
The massive arms lock around Fetu's ribs!
TODD: And just like that the momentum changes!
BAMA: That's the thing about powerhouses, Todd! Sometimes they only need one grip!
Oz squeezes.
Fetu's face twists.
His feet leave the mat.
The pressure increases.
Then increases again.
Then again.
Fetu finally clubs both fists into Oz's skull.
The hold breaks.
Fetu lands.
Superkick—
Oz ducks!
HIGH KNEE!
The strike detonates against Fetu's face.
Fetu stumbles backward.
Oz follows.
Big Boot.
Dropkick.
Clothesline.
Each strike lands harder than the last.
The crowd boos vehemently!
Oz closes his eyes and extends his hands, as if a god accepting worship.
TODD: This man genuinely believes these people revere him.
BAMA: And some of them do, Toddrick! This man is the Savior of Chicago!
Oz grabs Fetu.
Delayed Vertical Suplex.
The crowd counts.
One...
Two...
Three...
Four...
Five...
Oz begins doing squats.
The crowd loses its mind.
Six...
Seven...
Eight...
Then—
WHAM!
Fetu crashes down hard.
Oz covers.
ONE!
TWO!
Fetu kicks out.
Oz rolls outside.
He reaches under the ring.
Table.
The crowd cheers.
TODD: Here we go!
BAMA: Now we're speakin' my language!
Oz slides the table inside.
Sets it up.
Turns around—
FETU DIVE!
Jay Fetu launches through the ropes like a missile!
Both men are wiped out on the floor!
TODD: GOOD LORD!
BAMA: THAT MAN JUST TURNED HIMSELF INTO A HUMAN CANNONBALL!
The crowd chants.
Fetu rises first.
Breathing hard.
Angry.
Always angry.
He grabs a steel chair.
Oz gets to one knee.
CRACK!
The chair bends across Oz's back.
CRACK!
Again.
CRACK!
Again.
Oz drops to all fours.
TODD: This is legal in X-Treme Rules!
BAMA: It oughta be illegal to hit somebody that hard!
Fetu raises the chair one more time—
Oz explodes upward.
PELE KICK!
The chair flies into the crowd!
Fetu collapses.
Both men stagger back into the ring.
Oz sees the table.
A wicked smile spreads across his face.
He grabs Fetu.
Gorilla Press Gutbuster!
Fetu is launched upward—
Then dropped spine-first across Oz's knee!
The impact echoes.
Oz drags him toward the table.
Positions him.
Climbs the turnbuckles.
The crowd stands.
TODD: Wait a minute...
BAMA: Ain't no way a man that size is thinkin' what I think he's thinkin'!
Oz launches.
BOONE BOMB!
The double side flip crashes directly through Fetu and the table!
WOOD EXPLODES EVERYWHERE!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
TODD: HE HIT IT!
BAMA: I THINK HE KILLED HIM!
Oz crawls.
Throws an arm over Fetu.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
FETU KICKS OUT!
The arena erupts.
For the first time—
Oz looks shocked.
Not angry.
Not smug.
Confused.
Fetu sits up through the wreckage.
A trickle of blood running from his forehead.
The crowd roars.
The anger is gone.
Now there's only determination.
Oz charges.
Clothesline.
Fetu ducks.
Superkick.
Oz staggers.
Running Corkscrew Forearm!
Oz spins.
Fetu roars.
Hip Attack!
Oz crashes into the corner.
TODD: Jay Fetu has found another gear!
BAMA: That's what happens when you make a Samoan mad!
Fetu backs into the opposite corner.
The crowd rises.
Everyone knows what's coming.
YEET!
YEET!
YEET!
YEET!
Fetu charges.
FETU SPEAR!
Oz is cut in half!
TODD: HE GOT ALL OF IT!
Instead of covering—
Fetu looks upward.
The crowd explodes.
He climbs.
Top rope.
Balance steady.
Oz barely moving.
Fetu leaps.
FETU SPLASH!
Direct hit!
The ring shakes.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
NO!
Oz survives!
The audience can't believe it.
Neither can Fetu.
Fetu pounds the mat.
Furious.
He pulls Oz up.
Trying for another spear.
He runs.
Oz sidesteps.
Fetu hits the turnbuckles chest-first.
Oz immediately latches onto him from behind.
Mandible Claw.
"I Failed You."
TODD: OH NO!
BAMA: HE'S GOT IT!
Oz's fingers disappear into Fetu's mouth.
The hold is locked deep.
Fetu thrashes.
Punches.
Kicks.
Tries to pry the hand free.
Nothing works.
Oz drags him backward to the center of the ring.
His followers are chanting.
"OZ!"
"OZ!"
"OZ!"
The arena becomes a cathedral.
A congregation.
A sacrifice.
Fetu drops to one knee.
Then both.
Then all fours.
His movements slow.
Slower.
Slower.
Finally—
Nothing.
The referee checks.
No response.
Calls for the bell.
DING DING DING.
Winner: Mister Oz
TODD: It's over! Mister Oz survives an absolute war!
BAMA: Survives? Todd, that lunatic got SPEARED, SPLASHED, HIT WITH A CHAIR, DROVE THROUGH A TABLE... and somehow still found a way to make Jay Fetu fail!
TODD: Whether he's a mentor or something much darker... Mister Oz just made a statement tonight.
When "Mickey" begins playing, the fans pop to their feet and dance along to the catchy beats. They give a big whooping cheer when Brawliepop Barbie comes cartwheeling out waving her pom poms. Their cheers grow when she zooms down the aisle doing non-stop backflips all the way to ringside. Where most competitors would get into the ring at this point, Brawliepop does not. She skips and bounces around the entire ringside area tagging hands. She stops by the commentary booth and high fives Anarchy's hype men, then picks out a lucky little boy or girl and gives them her pom poms. As the lucky fans goes crazy with joy, she does a quick cheer routine for them then hops into the ring. She does a series of dazzling handsprings into the splits and poses.
Todd: Brawliepop Barbie has already won over the fans! Her upbeat energy and passion for people-pleasing makes her a favorite with kids of all ages!
Bama: Hey now, Todd- it’s not just kids who like watching Barbie bounce around the ring!
Todd: Oh, right. Gooners like her too.
GCC’s Chef Dom Durango appears on the ramp way, an unnaturally large smile stretched across his aging face.
Dawning a toque blanche, and a white chef's coat, he rolls out a table-side cooking cart and slowly raises his arms into the air.
Mamma Mia!
He brings his hands back to his lips, kissing his fingertips and stretching his arms out again
The crowd reacts with an indifferent murmur to what is meant to be quite the spectacle whilst Dom Durango waltzes down the ramp and slides into the ring.
TODD: And there he is folks, the GCC-XWF crossover sensation known as Dom Durango!
BAMA: I still don’t know if this guy gets that this is a wrestling company. When I met him backstage, he told me he was looking forward to cooking dinner for his opponents tonight!
TODD: Surely he means it in the metaphorical sense! But then again…I don’t know what evidence there is to say conclusively one way or the other.
BAMA: This Durango cat is unique, I’ll give him that! But I’m NOT giving him a tip, no matter how good the food is!
Hello-ah, fans of da XWF-ah! Chef Dom Dorango has-ah arrived!
When Booyka 619 hits, El Landerson walks through the automatic doors of the Spirit Halloween’s front door. He kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans as Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in after he was done he slowly walks into the store in slaps some little kids high fives!
Landerson stops and stares at a kid in the crowd and hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and makes it to one end of the animatronic aisle and poses both fingers in mid air.
TODD: Listen to that pop for the luchador, El Landerson!
BAMA: El Landerson is looking to get the win here, and the fact that he’s wrestling a chef and a barbie-doll means he might just be able to do it!
BRAWLIEPOP BARBIE
- vs -
GCC's Dom Durango™
- vs -
EL LANDERSON
TRIPLE THREAT TABLES ELIMINATION MATCH!
Eliminate your opponents from the match by throwing them through a table! The last person who hasn't been put through a table wins!
HIGHLIGHT REEL
The bell rang and GCC's Dom Durango immediately slid out of the ring.
Instead of attacking either opponent, he reached beneath the apron and pulled out a folding table.
The crowd buzzed as Dom carefully unfolded it beside the ring.
Bama: Durango finally figured out that this is a wrestling league, and not a cooking league! He’s going right for the table to end this match early!
Todd: I’m not so sure about that, Todd…
Then he reached into his apron.
And produced a whisk.
Bama: Damn it!
Brawliepop Barbie and El Landerson stared at him.
Dom nodded proudly.
He reached into another pocket and pulled out a wooden spoon.
Then a chef's towel.
Then a small container of seasoning.
Meanwhile, inside the ring, El Landerson shrugged and charged Brawliepop.
The two collided in a blur of speed.
El Landerson flipped over her with a handspring and snapped off a lightning-fast armdrag.
Brawliepop rolled through it, cartwheeled back to her feet, and answered with a headscissors that launched the luchador across the canvas.
Outside the ring, Dom was busy dusting the table.
Bama: While El Landerson and Barbie are duking it out, Dom is just cooking up dinner outside the ring!
Todd: Well, is that really so bad, Bama? I mean, I am getting hungry…
El Landerson springboarded onto the ropes and flew backward with a picture-perfect moonsault.
Brawliepop dodged.
El landed on his feet.
Brawliepop immediately hit a standing shooting star press.
El rolled away.
Both competitors kipped up simultaneously.
Outside, Dom had somehow acquired a chef's knife.
A completely harmless plastic chef's knife.
He began pretending to chop vegetables on the table.
The crowd laughed.
Back inside, El Landerson exploded off the ropes and launched into a corkscrew crossbody.
Brawliepop caught him.
El shifted his weight.
The pair tumbled into a series of counters before El finally escaped and drilled her with a spinning heel kick.
Brawliepop staggered.
El charged.
She vaulted over him.
Springboarded.
And blasted him with a flying dropkick that sent him crashing through the ropes to the floor.
Brawliepop launched herself through the ropes with a breathtaking tope con hilo.
She wiped out both Dom and El Landerson!
Todd: Despite Dom’s best efforts to cook, he just got dragged into this match for real!
Bama: Now it’s time to see what the Chef Boy Ardee is made of!
Dom rolled away clutching his chef hat.
The action spilled around ringside.
Brawliepop set up a second table against the barricade.
El Landerson recovered and sprinted up the barricade before launching backward with a moonsault onto her.
The impact crushed her beneath him.
Dom wandered over carrying the first table.
Apparently he had decided the placement wasn't optimal.
He repositioned it.
Looked at it.
Shook his head.
Moved it again.
Still unsatisfied.
El and Brawliepop fought back toward the ring.
El attempted a springboard hurricanrana.
Brawliepop caught him in midair.
Powerbomb position.
The crowd rose.
She charged toward the table.
El twisted free.
Both competitors crashed into the table.
It wobbled violently but somehow refused to break.
Dom applauded the table's craftsmanship.
He gave it a thumbs up.
Brawliepop and El Landerson exchanged forearms.
Then kicks.
Then more forearms.
Neither giving an inch.
El spun into a tornado DDT.
Brawliepop rolled through.
She sprang to the top rope.
Missile dropkick.
Both competitors collapsed.
Dom saw his opportunity.
He climbed into the ring carrying a frying pan.
The crowd erupted!
Todd: The moment is now! Durango is finally get involved in this match!
Bama: And his opponents had better watch out, because he’s swinging around a hot grease pan!
Dom swung hard.
El ducked.
Brawliepop ducked.
The frying pan slipped from his hands and flew into the crowd.
Dom panicked.
And El Landerson blasted him with a superkick!
Dom tumbled through the ropes and landed beside his precious table.
Todd: Well…so much for that!
Brawliepop and El resumed their aerial war.
Springboards.
Counters.
Handsprings.
Near eliminations.
The pace became frantic!
Todd: Brawliepop Barbie and El Landerson are putting on a show here tonight! They’re both looking to make an impact statement tonight!
Bama: This match is supposed to be a tables match, but no one’s going through a table: they’re just soaring through the air!
Finally Brawliepop rocked El with a spinning enzuigiri.
He staggered toward the corner.
Brawliepop climbed to the top rope.
Then higher.
Perched on the very top buckle.
El Landerson wobbled on his feet near the ringside table.
Brawliepop launched herself into the air.
Bama: PLATTE RIVER PLUNGE! SHE’S HITTING THE PLATTE RIVER PLUNGE!
Triple rotation.
Moonsault legdrop.
A breathtaking spiral through the air.
She crashed directly onto El Landerson!
The force drove him through the table in an explosion of wood.
But at the last possible moment El shifted slightly!
His body rolled just enough-
Brawliepop's own momentum carried her legs and hips through the collapsing table as well.
Wood shattered everywhere!
The crowd exploded!
The official rushed over.
El Landerson lay buried beneath the wreckage.
Brawliepop was tangled in the remains.
Both competitors had gone through the table…..
The referee immediately signaled for a double elimination!
El Landerson has been eliminated.
Brawliepop Barbie has been eliminated.
WINNER BY DOUBLE ELIMINATION: DOM DURANGO!
Inside the ring, Dom Durango slowly stood up.
He looked around.
Looked at the broken table.
Looked at the referee.
Looked at the crowd.
Then pointed at himself.
The referee nodded.
Dom Durango's eyes widened.
He grabbed his chef hat and triumphantly threw it into the air!
Bama: That’s it?! That’s the match?! How can that be the end of it?
Todd: Dom Durango somehow won the match without ever putting anyone through a table! It’s a miracle!
Bama: It’s a god-damn travesty!
Todd: Well Bama…you’ll just have to STEW on it! It’s what the chef would want!
Bama: ….I hate you.
XWF Anarchy comes back from commercial, and out from the back, with no music or fanfare, walks Eric Greitens with Dick Lichter nervously walking behind him.
BAMA T: Look, Todd! It’s…uh…who is that?
TODD: That’s Eric Greitens, the former governor of Missouri and a personal friend of Elon Musk.
BAMA T: That’s right! I knew that. I just wanted to make sure the audience knew that.
In the ring, a table has been set up, with three executive desk chairs - two on one side of the table, and one on the other. Greitens has a briefcase in his right hand, which he slides into the ring as he reaches the bottom of the ramp. He walks up the steel steps and steps into the ring, letting go of the middle rope before Lichter can step through, allowing the rope the bounce back and smack Lichter in the top of the head.
BAMA T: Now that’s just disrespectful.
TODD: Far be it from me to defend our General Manager but I have to agree with you there, Bama.
Greitens picks up the briefcase and gestures to one of the two chairs facing away from the ramp before he takes his seat in the chair facing the ramp. Lichter rubs his head and sits down as Greitens places his briefcase on the table.
GREITENS: The last thing myself or Mr. Musk wanted to do was to do this publicly, but unfortunately, recent events have made it so this can only be done in the audience of witnesses. Mr. Lichter, for the past several months, it is clear you have had no control over this show. The wrestlers backstage don’t seem to respect you, the audience doesn’t see you as an authority figure, and every employee in the back seems to see you as nothing more than a punchline.
Lichter grabs a microphone from the center of the table and begins to defend himself.
LICHTER: Well, “Governor”, it’s really hard for the boys in the back to take me seriously when I have three bosses above me constantly undermining me. I go to lay down the law around here, and everyone is just waiting around for Mr. Musk, or Mr. Bezos, or…”Marky Z” to show up and give their own orders.
Greitens, who has barely been paying attention, opens his briefcase and pulls out a large file, which he tosses into the center of the table.
GREITENS: These sound like excuses, Dick. And Mr. Musk doesn’t appreciate excuses. But still, most of that could be forgiven. What Mr. Musk wants to know, what the rest of the ownership wants to know, and what these fans want to know is simply this - how the hell was Centurion able to inject himself into the Anarchy Tag Title match at Leap of Faith after he had been explicitly fired by Mr. Musk?!
The crowd cheers as the mention of the XWF Legend, but Lichter looks back at Greitens with a confused look on his face.
LICHTER: That wasn’t my call! I was told it was a demand from management! You think I WANT that fool here?!
Greitens just shakes his head as he closes the briefcase and sets it down on the mat next to him.
GREITENS: So your excuse for this is that you’re too incompetent to make sure all the wrestlers involved in your matches are supposed to be there? I have to saw, while I’m disappointed, I am not surprised. This is exactly what Mr. Musk expected from you, which is why I brought your contract with us tonight. Before I get to doing what I came here to do, however, there is someone else I need to speak with. Mr. Cortinovis? Would you join us in the ring?
The crowd roars to life as Greitens stands up and buttons up his suit jacket, awaiting the arrival of Centurion.
The crowd explodes as from the back steps Centurion, wearing a suit of his own.
TODD: Well, it’s business time for the legend.
Centurion pats his jacket before confidently walking down the rampway.
BAMA: I don’t understand this. Centurion was FIRED! He should be arrested, not brought to the ring! I don’t know what Gerkins is doing!
TODD: It’s Greitens, and I’m not sure, either.
Centurion climbs into the ring and reaches into his suit jacket. He pulls out a rolled up document that he slaps down onto the table. Greitens steps out from behind the table, and…
1000 MILE SLAM!!
BAMA: Centurion just slammed the former governor of Minnesota!
TODD: Missouri.
BAMA: Whatever!
The crowd roars again as Greitens bounces hard off the mat and rolls out of the ring. He grabs Greitens’ briefcase and tosses it out of the ring before gesturing to Lichter to sit back down. Centurion sits down in the chair now vacated by Greitens and puts his feet up on the table.
CENTURION: Let me start this off by first establishing some ground rules. If Elon Musk has something to say to me, he can come say it himself. If he’s too chicken shit to do that, then I will beat the unholy hell out of every failed politician he brings out here to be his mouthpiece. I do not have the time nor the patience to sit here and listen to people with no power cosplaying like they do! Now, Dick, we have some business to discuss.
Centurion points to the document he slapped down on the table, and gestures to him to read it.
CENTURION: I want to give everyone here a little history lesson. The year is 2007. Professional wrestling as a business was fractured. New companies were popping up every week. And the XWF Universal Champion, Hardcore Smitty, had decided to jump ship and join another company.
The crowd pops at the mention of the XWF Legend Hardcore Smitty.
CENTURION: It was a huge blow to the XWF at the time, especially since Smitty refused to give the Universal Title back to the company. There were tons of lawyers involved, and long story short, the title, well…it just wasn’t here anymore. There was however, another title that happened to exist at that time - the World Title, which was held by yours truly after a historic victory at Zero Tolerance. And trust me when I tell you this, I had every company known to man contracting me after that, offering me LOADS of cash. The biggest one? It was run by a disgruntled former XWF wrestler named Nick Ryan.
The crowd , or at least those who remember the name, boos.
CENTURION: I could have taken the money, and it would have been the death blow to the XWF that was finally coming. So a meeting had to take place. A meeting that took place between me…and Jon Brown.
Another cheer.
TODD: A nice reaction for the longest tenured owner of the XWF.
BAMA T: That’s great, but what’s the point?
CENTURION: Now I know the phrase “they need me” gets thrown around a lot, especially from Napoleon Complex bastards who think they’re far more important than they are, but trust me when I tell you this…Jon Brown and the XWF NEEDED me to stay at that time. They needed stability at the top, and they needed to make sure their new top title wasn’t going to leave just like the previous one did. So, I made sure Jon set me up, so that I never had to go through another negotiation process again with this company. What you have in front of you there, Dick, is my contract, which ends…on July 31, 2037.
BAMA: WHAT?!
CENTURION: That’s right, Dick. Jon Brown signed me to a 30 year contract! But that’s not all. There’s a great provision on page eight if you want to take a look at it.
Lichter furiously looks through the contact and gets to page eight. His eyes dart down the paper, then he gets a confused look on his face, followed by a look of true horror.
CENTURION: That’s right, Dick. I knew there was always a chance Jon was going to sell this company. Hell, ownership changes happen all the time in this industry, so I just wanted to make sure that the contract is tied to the company, NOT the owner. That regardless who WHO signs the check, I still receive mine as long as I lace up the boots and step into the ring, but if for some reason the owner of the company didn’t want me around anymore, they would have the option to buy me out of my contract. After all, I’m a decent enough guy. I don’t want to be here if someone doesn’t want me here. So, Eric!
Centurion addresses Geitens, who is slowly crawling his way up the ramp, cradling his briefcase under his arms.
CENTURION: You let Elon know if he wants to fire me, he can. I’ll gladly walk away, no questions asked, and he’ll never see me again. He just owes me…480 million dollars!
The crowd cheers as Greitens gets a look of anger through his pain as Centurion laughs and spins around in his chair. Lichter remains stunned in his chair as a “Centurion! Centurion!” chant begins.
CENTURION: Oh, and on your way out the door, you make sure to tell that son of a bitcch Graves that I’m coming for him! That I’m getting my OWN partner, and I’m taking those titles away from him, and there isn’t a damn thing he can do about it!
“Wild Thing” plays again as Centurion hops up from his chair and onto the table, taunt spamming towards the crowd, who are soaking it all in.
BAMA T: 30 years? 30 years?!
TODD: It looks like Centurion isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, though I doubt Elon Musk is going to take this lying down!
Location: Graves Boneyard
Miss Furry and Atomic Bat are already in the ring.
TODD: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a normal tag team match. There are no disqualifications. No count-outs. No rope breaks. The only way to win is by pinfall or submission, and this entire training facility and everything in it, is legal to to use."
BAMA T: "That’s a real polite way of saying somebody’s gonna get concussed by a Bowflex, baby!"
The camera pans across the Boneyard.
Suddenly—
“I WANNA ROCK!”
Lane’l Pennyfarthing bursts in, spins, points, and air guitars his way to the ring.
Behind him lumbers Michael Graves, who drags a steel chair behind him.
Lane’l hops up onto the apron and throws both arms wide.
"CUT THE MUSIC!"
The music doesn't cut.
Lane'l looks around, irritated.
"I said cut the music!"
It still doesn't cut.
At Ringside, Michael lifts the chair and starts air guitaring along with it, terribly and off rhythm.
BAMA T: "That boy is playing the hell out of that chair guitar, baby!"
The music finally cuts. Michael continues to strum his chair anyway.
"Places, everyone! Places! I require emotional honesty, clean blocking, and at least one man with a camera to capture my good side!"
TODD: “Lane'l Pennyfarthing apparently still believes he is on the set of the Vinnie Lane biopic.”
Lane’l turns to face the ring, dramatically holding up one finger.
"Tonight, dear viewers, you shall witness art. You shall witness violence. You shall witness two brave performers stepping into the sacred temple of combat to portray icons with an artistic flair that is beyond mortal comprehension."
Lane'l turns back to face Michael Graves.
"Now, Michael, on my cue, you enter frame with menace. I shall begin with a monologue about identity, masks, and possibly the tragic eroticism of hair metal—"
Furry shoots forward and grabs Lane'l by the back of the wig and yanks him over the top rope.
Lane’l hits the canvas hard and the official calls for the bell.
This no-rules, no-holds barred tag match takes place INSIDE The Boneyard! The only way to win is by pinning one of your opponents, or forcing one of them to submit!
DING! DING! DING!
TODD: "And Miss Furry starts the match!"
BAMA T: "She might have started the match, but she just canceled the whole damn production, baby!"
Lane’l pushes up on his elbows with wide eyes.
"Madem, we have not discussed chorography!"
Furry stomps on the back of his head and grinds his face into the canvas.
"Improvise!"
Atomic Bat springs towards the ropes as Michael climbs the apron and launches herself into a springboard arm-drag that sends Michael flying into the ring.
The chair flies from his grip and lands on the mat.
Michael rolls to his knees and grabs the chair and swings, but Atomic Bat rolls out of the way and the stray chair clips Lane'l in the back as he tries to stand.
CRACK!
Lane’l stiffens and drops back to the mat.
"Excellent betrayal, old friend..."
Michael looks down at him with the chair in hand.
"Did I chair good?"
Furry answers by kicking the chair straight back into Michael’s face.
Michael collapses backward and lays on the mat starfished.
TODD: "Miss Furry just drove that chair back into Michael Graves’ face!"
BAMA T: "And this one doesn't heal, baby! You know that's a concussion!"
Furry grabs Michael by the ankle. Michael tries to kick free, but Furry twists his leg and drops into a seated leg-bar.
Lane’l crawls toward the ropes, still clutching his back, but Atomic Bat cuts him off with a basement dropkick.
Furry drops an elbow across Michael's thigh. She keeps hold of his ankle, turns him halfway over, and drives a knee into the back of his leg.
Michael reaches for the chair, but Furry releases and stomps his hand and the Atomic Bat snatches it up for herself.
Atomic Bat sets it up and rebounds off of the ropes.
She leaps, plants one foot on the seat, and springboards off it with a low missile-dropkick that knocks Lane’l under the bottom rope and out to the floor.
TODD: "Atomic Bat using that chair as a launch pad!"
BAMA T: "That bat can fly, baby!"
Lane’l hits the concrete and rolls toward the heavy bags.
Michael pushes up to one knee as Furry grabs the chair and snaps it shut.
Michael rushes and swings a wild punch, but Furry ducks, and cracks the chair across his back.
Michael drops to one knee as Atomic Bat rushes in with a running high knee to the side of his head.
Michael spills through the ropes and lands on the floor beside Lane’l.
TODD: "Furry and Atomic Bat have cleared the ring!"
BAMA T: "And now the safest part of this match is behind them, baby!"
Furry slides out after them.
Atomic Bat follows, leaping over the top and landing lightly on the concrete.
Lane’l reaches up and pulls himself against one of the heavy bags. Michael crawls toward him.
The two barely get upright before Furry and Atomic Bat close in.
Lane’l ducks behind the heavy bag and shoves the bag with both hands.
It swings into Atomic Bat’s chest, knocking her back on her ass.
Lane’l looks stunned that it worked.
Then Furry grabs him by the wig from the other side of the bag and yanks him forward burying his face into the leather. Atomic bat rushes in, and Furry steps out of the way just as she dropkicks the bag.
Lane’l bounces backward and trips over a medicine ball.
Meanwhile, Michael lurches in with another chair, but Furry turns just as Michael swings.
Furry ducks and the chair slams into the heavy bag, firing it back into his skull.
He staggers and Atomic Bat runs in, jumpping onto a nearby weight bench, and launching off it with a springboard back elbow that rockets Michael into the lockers.
BANG!
Lane’l gets to his feet and grabs the heavy bag chain.
He pulls on it, but the bag barely moves before Furry steps in and kicks him in the stomach.
Lane’l doubles over and Furry hooks him by the head running him face-first into the heavy bag. Atomic Bat follows with a running knee that sandwiches Lane’l’s head. Lane’l drops to the floor and Furry turns her attention toward Michael, who has pulled himself up against the lockers.
One locker door hangs half-open beside him.
He reaches inside and Furry rushes him.
Michael yanks out a dirty pair of boxers and throws them at her.
They bounce off her face.
Furry stops and claws at her face with a sour expression.
TODD: "Dirty laundry just stopped Furry in her tracks!"
BAMA T: "I can see why, baby! The dirty drawers have Micheal Graves name scribbled on them, LOOK!"
Michael grabs her and shoves her into the locker then grabs the door and slams it shut, but Furry catches it with both hands.
Atomic Bat rushes in and kicks Michael’s legs out from under him.
Michael crumples to the floor.
TODD: "This is already spilling into every corner of the Boneyard!"
BAMA T: "And we haven’t even found the weird rooms yet, baby!"
Furry grabs Lane’l by the ankle and Atomic Bat grabs Michael by the mask. They start dragging both men toward the office hallway.
Michael suddenly reaches up and grabs the bottom of Atomic Bat’s mask and yanks down. Atomic Bat stumbles face first into some gym equipment.
CLANG!
Furry turns, distracted, and Lane’l kicks upward catches her in the jaw.
Furry staggers and Lane’l rolls away, clutching his ribs.
TODD: "And just like that, the imposters have found an opening!"
BAMA T: "It wasn’t pretty, baby, but neither are they!"
Michael grabs Atomic Bat by the back of the head and runs her through some more gym equipment.
BANG!
Michael pulls her up and whips her back into the heavy bag.
The bag barely moves, but Atomic Bat bounces off and drops to the concrete.
Lane’l finds himself back at the heavy bag chain as Furry rushes him.
Lane’l ducks and yanks the chain as hard as he can.
The heavy bag swings and clips Furry in the side, rag dolling her against the wall.
THUD!
Lane’l looks shocked.
"Ha!"
Michael looks at Lane'l.
Lane’l looks at Michael.
They both look at the heavy bag.
Then they both grab the chain.
TODD: "Lane’l Pennyfarthing may have accidentally figured out how to use the Boneyard against its own team!"
BAMA T: "Accident or not, that bag just turned Miss Furry inside out!"
As Furry starts to rise, Michael and Lane’l pull the bag back and let it go, and It swings into Furry again, driving her back into the wall.
THUD!
Michael grabs the chair from the floor.
Lane’l points toward Atomic Bat.
Michael turns and swings.
Atomic Bat ducks.
The chair smashes into the locker behind her and she kicks Michael in the stomach, but Lane’l rushes in from the side and clips the back of her knee.
Atomic Bat drops and Michael brings the chair down across her back.
CRACK!
TODD: "Steel chair across the back of Atomic Bat!"
BAMA T: "That one had a receipt attached, baby!"
Michael raises the chair again.
Lane’l stops him and points toward the weight bench.
Michael nods like he understands.
He does not.
He grabs Atomic Bat by the cape and drags her toward the bench.
Lane’l clears off a couple of loose dumbbells.
One rolls off the side and lands on Michael’s foot.
Michael hops in pain, but Lane’l pulls Atomic Bat up and hooks her by the head.
TODD: "DDT onto the weight bench!"
BAMA T: "Holy smokes, baby! He just cracked her skull like an egg!"
Atomic Bat rolls over, blood starting to run down her mask.
Lane’l slides in and hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!!
Furry breaks it up!
Lane’l rolls away, holding his arm.
Michael immediately charges.
Furry ducks under his clothesline.
Michael keeps running and crashes into the weight bench, flipping over it and landing hard.
CRASH!
TODD: "Michael Graves just wiped himself out on that bench!"
BAMA T: "But he hit it with confidence, baby!"
Furry turns back toward Lane’l.
Lane’l grabs one of the small dumbbells from the floor.
Furry steps in.
Lane’l swings.
Furry catches his wrist and twists it like Steven Seagal.
Lane’l drops the dumbbell and pleads for her to release him.
Michael, still on the floor behind the bench, shoves it forward with both feet.
The bench skids into the back of Furry’s legs, knocking her off balance.
Lane’l rushes in and plants her with a snap powerslam outta nowhere.
TODD: "Powerslam by Lane’l!"
BAMA T: "That looked like a real wrestler for a second, baby!"
Lane’l covers.
ONE!
TWO!!
Furry kicks out.
Lane’l rolls to his knees, breathing hard.
Michael crawls over beside him and points toward the office hallway.
Lane’l nods.
Michael takes Atomic Bat and Lane’l takes Furry. They pop a few shots to make them compliant, and begin dragging them toward the locked offices.
TODD: "Michael Graves and Lane’l Pennyfarthing have turned this match around, and now they’re taking this fight deeper into the Boneyard!"
BAMA T: "In the Boneyard, deeper isn't where you wanna go, baby."
Michael kicks the first office door he sees.
Atomic Bat suddenly drives an elbow into Michael’s ribs, but Michael answers by running her straight through the open doorway.
CRASH!
The door slams against the inside wall as Atomic Bat tumbles across the floor of Office 1B.
The camera follows them in to find that every inch of the office is Dolly Waters.
Posters.
Photos.
Magazine clippings.
A cardboard standee.
A Dolly Waters lunchbox sitting on the desk.
A framed used napkin that may or may not actually have anything to do with Dolly Waters.
TODD: "Office 1B appears to be some kind of Dolly Waters shrine."
BAMA T: "Eh... After all these years, it's still weird, baby!"
Michael stops dead.
Atomic Bat rolls to one knee, holding her back.
Michael ignores her and steps toward a giant Dolly Waters poster.
"Pretty..."
Atomic Bat looks up.
Michael reaches out and gently touches the poster with one finger.
"She understands me."
Atomic Bat’s eyes narrow beneath the mask.
TODD: "Michael Graves has been completely distracted by the Dolly Waters poster!"
BAMA T: "The man found his weakness, baby! It’s laminated!"
Out in the hallway, Lane’l has Furry by the hair and the back of her gear.
Furry throws an elbow into his ribs.
Lane’l staggers, but keeps hold.
Furry throws another elbow.
Lane’l grits his teeth, spins her, and hurls her shoulder-first through the next door down.
KABOOM!
The door flies open and Furry crashes into Office 2B.
Lane’l stumbles in after her and finds himself standing inside what looks less like an office and more like a serial killer’s yard sale.
Weapons are stacked everywhere.
A shattered piece of table with old vampire blood on it.
A bucket of moldy slop labeled XTREME GRITS.
A dented shovel.
A barbed wire bat with a sticky note that says: "DO NOT LICK AGAIN!"
TODD: "Office 2B is being used as storage for Micheal Graves’ favorite weapons from previous matches!"
BAMA T: "That’s the evidence room, baby!"
Lane’l’s eyes light up.
"Props!"
Furry pushes herself up as Lane’l starts digging through the pile.
He pulls out a stop sign.
Looks at it.
Tosses it aside.
He pulls out a toaster wrapped in a chain.
Considers it...
Then tosses that aside too.
Suddenly, Lane’l freezes.
His hands slowly rise, holding something long, horrible, and unmistakably stupid.
THE ROBODICK!
Lane’l stares at it.
Furry stares at it.
The referee, peeking in from the hallway, stares at it.
"At last..."
Lane’l turns toward Furry and raises like the Power Sword.
"I HAVE THE—"
Furry lunges.
Lane’l swings.
"POOOOWEEEEERRRRR!"
THWAP!
The ROBODICK smacks Furry across the side of the head, causing her to spin sideways and crash into a shelf full of old match junk.
CLATTER!
TODD: "Lane’l Pennyfarthing just hit Miss Furry with the ROBODICK!"
BAMA T: "I been calling wrestling a long time, baby, and for the first time in my career... I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that!"
Back in Office 1B, Michael is still staring at the Dolly poster.
Atomic Bat slowly stands behind him.
Michael tilts his head.
"Do you think she likes chairs?"
Atomic Bat grabs the Dolly Waters lunchbox off the desk.
Michael smiles at the poster.
"I like chairs."
Atomic Bat blasts him in the back of the head with the lunchbox.
CLANG!
Michael’s face smacks into the Dolly poster hard enough to draw blood.
He turns, horrified, because now...
Dolly's bleeding.
"You hurt her!"
Atomic Bat answers with a running dropkick that sends Michael backward into the cardboard standee and over the desk.
CRASH!
TODD: "Atomic Bat just used the Dolly shrine against Michael Graves!"
BAMA T: "That bat kicked him right into his feelings, baby!"
In Office 2B, Lane’l drags Furry up by the hair.
Furry suddenly grabs the XTREME GRITS bucket and throws the contents into Lane’l’s face.
Lane’l screams.
"MY EYES! MY BEAUTIFUL ACTING EYES!"
Furry grabs him by the wig and drives him face-first into the weapon shelf.
BANG!
The shelf rocks.
A space helmet drops onto Lane’l’s head.
He staggers backward, blinded, wearing the helmet crooked.
Furry snatches up the ROBODICK.
Lane’l clears one eye and sees her holding it just before she cracks him in the stomach with it.
THWAP!
Lane’l doubles over and falls through the doorway back into the hall.
At the same time, Atomic Bat comes flying out of Office 1B.
Michael stumbles after her.
Atomic Bat backs into the hallway.
Furry steps out of Office 2B.
Lane’l crawls between them with the space helmet still on his head.
Michael points at Atomic Bat.
Then points at the Dolly poster visible behind him.
"Apologize to my girlfriend!"
Atomic Bat tilts her head.
"No!"
Michael charges.
Atomic Bat sidesteps.
Michael runs straight into Lane’l, crashing violently.
Furry drives the ROBODICK into Michael’s ribs.
Michael doubles over and Furry swings again.
Michael catches it with both hands and the two struggle over it.
Lane’l gets up behind Furry, grabs the dented shovel from Office 2B and swings it into the back of Furry’s leg.
CLANG!
Furry drops to one knee.
Michael yanks the ROBODICK away and cracks it over Furry’s head.
Atomic Bat jumps onto Michael’s back, hooks an arm around his throat, and hammers punches into the side of his head.
Michael staggers backward into the Dolly room as Atomic Bat keeps punching.
Michael reaches back, grabs her, and throws her over his shoulder and through the desk.
CRASH!
Michael grabs the framed Dolly poster and smashes it over Atomic Bats head.
Out in the hall, Lane’l pulls Furry up and tries to whip her into the wall.
Furry reverses and Lane’l smashes against the wall and stumbles back.
Furry snatches the space helmet off his head and smashes it into his face.
Furry then grabs the shovel as Michael comes out of Office 1B sobbing over the smashed Dolly poster.
Furry charges and swings the shovel into Michael’s stomach.
Michael drops the poster and doubles over.
Furry brings the shovel down across his back.
CLANG!
Michael falls to all fours.
Furry punts him in the ribs, then grabs him by the mask and runs him face-first into the Office 2B door frame.
Furry doesn’t give him time to breathe, and smashes his head between the frame and the door before stepping over him and into Office 2B.
Michael lunges at her and swings blind, catching her in the stomach.
Furry staggers as Michael grabs the XTREME GRITS bucket, jamming it over her head.
She stumbles backwards, blinded.
Michael charges and spears her through a weapon shelf.
CRASH!
Weapons spill everywhere.
Lane’l crawls into the doorway and grabs the ROBODICK again.
Atomic Bat appears behind him and dropkicks him in the back of the head, then rushes Office 2B.
Michael turns with the shovel, but Atomic Bat duck and the shovel smashes into the wall.
Furry rips the bucket off her head and tackles Michael from the side.
Both crash through the mess of weapons and roll back into the hall.
Furry lands on top and starts hammering him with short punches.
Michael covers up, but Furry grabs the Dolly lunchbox from the floor and smashes it into his face.
CLANG!
Again.
CLANG!
And again.
CLANG!
Michael goes limp as blood pools under his mask.
Furry throws the crumpled lunchbox aside and hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!!
Lane’l dives in and smashes the ROBODICK across Furry’s back.
Furry rolls off Michael, snatches it away, and returns the favor.
THWAP!
Lane’l drops.
Atomic Bat charges from Office 2B with the shovel.
Michael ducks.
CLANG!
Furry takes it across the head.
Lane’l crawls over her and hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE—
Furry kicks out!
The Imposters drag Furry back toward the gym.
Atomic Bat comes flying in, knocking Lane’l into the lockers and Michael over the weight bench.
She climbs the lockers and leaps, but Michael rolls away.
Atomic Bat crashes stomach-first across the bench.
Lane’l grabs the heavy bag chain and loops it around Furry.
Bad idea.
Furry yanks him in and drives him into the concrete.
Michael drops a medicine ball across her back before she can cover.
He raises it again.
But Furry kicks it into his face.
Michael flips over the bench.
Lane’l finds the chair.
Atomic Bat finds Lane’l.
She charges.
Lane’l ducks.
CRACK!
Atomic Bat’s knee drives the chair into Furry’s face.
Furry drops against the heavy bag.
Michael grabs the chain.
Lane’l catches on and helps him wrap it around Furry and the bag.
TODD: "They’re chaining Miss Furry to the heavy bag!"
BAMA T: "That cat's on a tight leash, baby!"
Furry fights against the chain, but she's stuck.
Atomic Bat gets back to her feet.
Michael rushes her with a forearm and scoops her onto his shoulders.
Lane’l climbs onto the weight bench.
Atomic Bat hammers Michael with punches, but Lane’l leaps and catches her with a flying neckbreaker through the weight bench.
CRAAAAAASH!
Lane’l hooks both legs.
Michael throws himself across Atomic Bat’s shoulders.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
DING! DING! DING!
TODD: "I can't believe it! The Imposters ARE for real!"
BAMA T: "Give those boys their damn Oscars, baby!"
WINNERS: LANE’L PENNYFARTHING & MICHAEL GRAVES
TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, what a main event we have tonight! XWF Revolution Champion Summer Page taking on her former friend Marisol Vilaró! If Marisol wins tonight, she'll challenge for that very championship at Bad Medicine!
BAMA: And she oughta win, Todd! Marisol built herself into an empire while Summer was ridin' around on daddy's credit card!
…
The synthesized 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.
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
TODD: Here she is, Marisol Vilaro! The Queen of VilaroFit has become the Empress of VilaroMaxx!
BAMA: Miss Vilaro has been dominant since returning! Gone literally undefeated! She beat Betsy Granger! She beat that freakshot DeathWish!
TODD: And if she wins this match, she becomes the #1 contender for the Revolution Title!
BAMA: Explain that one to me, Toddrick! If Mari’s gonna earn a shot to prove she can beat the Revolution champion, first she’s gotta beat the Revolution champion? It’s a damn conspiracy against Miss Vilaro! If she beats Summer tonight, she SHOULD be the Revolution champion!
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…
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.
TODD: Summer Page has been on the hunt for championship gold in the XWF for over a year! And at Leap of Faith, she finally did it! She found a way to become XWF Revolution champion!
BAMA: Yeah, yeah, yeah… she pinned a third guy, NOT the champ! It’s an absolute travesty that management is protecting her from defending her belt against Mari!
TODD: You’re being ridiculous, Bama! Summer’s a fighting champion! She’s ready to start her revolution and taking on one of the toughest competitors on Thursday night, her longtime rival, Marisol Vilaro!
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.
Inside the ring, Summer's confident smile fades into a focused stare. Her shoulders square and her fingers tighten around invisible tension.
TODD: Clearly, Summer’s taking this challenge seriously.
BAMA: Of course! These two got more bad beef than an abandoned Wendy’s! This isn't another challenger. This is Mari! Summer’s blood rival!
Across from Summer, Marisol smirks with practiced superiority, chin tilted upward as if already posing for tomorrow's magazine cover. She slowly opens her arms, inviting Summer to take the first step.
If Marisol defeats the champion in this singles match, they earn a shot at the Revolution Championship at Bad Medicine!
With sudden determination, Summer steps forward and offers a collar-and-elbow tie-up.
Marisol's eyes narrow in surprise.
TODD: Respect from Summer Page!
BAMA: Respect? That's disrespectful! Mari don't want respect. She wants worship!
Marisol surges forward accepting the tie-up.
Both women struggle for leverage.
Summer's face twists with effort as she drives forward, using superior positioning to force Marisol backward toward the ropes.
Marisol's expression changes instantly. The smugness disappears. A flash of irritation crosses her face.
The referee calls for a break.
Summer immediately releases.
Marisol doesn't.
Her nostrils flare.
With petty annoyance bubbling beneath the surface…
**SMACK!**
Mari snaps a sharp slap across Summer's face.
The arena gasps.
TODD: Oh shit.
BAMA: Hell yeah, Toddrick! JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!
Summer freezes.
Her head slowly turns back toward Marisol.
The champion's expression isn't anger.
It's disappointment.
TODD: Oh my! I think Mari wanted Summer to sink down to her rage and anger… but Summer’s just… unimpressed!
BAMA: How dare she!
Marisol seethes, furious at Summer’s composure…
Without hesitation Mari’s lunges forward.
Summer's disappointment transforms into survival instinct.
She ducks.
Marisol stumbles past.
Summer quickly hooks her waist and launches her with a beautiful Snap German Suplex.
**THUD!**
Marisol rolls across the canvas.
TODD: Beautiful technique by the champion!
BAMA: Pssh! She got lucky!
TODD: I don’t think you can luck yourself into a suplex that pretty to watch!
Marisol immediately scrambles to her feet.
Embarrassment flashes across her face.
Not pain.
Embarrassment.
The crowd is cheering.
SUMMER! SUMMER! SUMMER!
Marisol visibly hates every second of it.
Her upper lip curls.
She charges.
Summer notices the recklessness instantly.
Calm confidence settles over her features.
She sidesteps.
Marisol hits the turnbuckles.
Summer immediately follows with a High Knee to the jaw.
**CRACK!**
Marisol drops to one knee.
Summer grabs Marisol's arm and whips her across the ring.
Marisol's eyes widen.
She thrashes to try and create space, catching Summer with an elbow to the gut!
Summer doubles over, gritting her teeth in pain…
Marisol grins with a relief and haughtiness, eager to follow up this opening!
She bounces off the ropes…
LARIAT!
…But Summe ducks! And spins Vilaro with a Tilt-A-Whirl into a Russian Leg Sweep.
**THUMP!**
TODD: What a maneuver!
Cover.
ONE!
TW—
Kickout.
Marisol immediately rolls away. Then under the bottom rope and outside the ring!
TODD: Summer is one step ahead right now. She looks cool and confident as champion!
BAMA: That's because Mari's wrestlin' emotional. She needs to quit thinkin' about proving she’s better than Summer and start thinkin' about beating her!
Outside the ring, Marisol kneels beside the apron.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly.
The official begins counting.
The crowd chants.
Summer remains inside.
Watching.
Waiting.
Marisol notices.
And suddenly begins laughing.
The laughter is forced.
Performative.
Designed for cameras.
She slowly stands and brushes imaginary dust from her designer gear.
The crowd boos.
The official is up to five… but Summer’s impatient with this! She rolls under the bottom rope and starts heading Mari’s way!
BAMA: Summer’s headed outside the ring! This is exactly what Marisol wanted!
TODD: Summer doesn’t wanna win this by countout! She said in her promo she wants Mari to stop buzzing around her and start bothering someone else!
Marisol's grin becomes genuine.
As Summer approaches, seeking another lock-up, Marisol suddenly drives a knee into her abdomen.
**OOF!**
BAMA: THERE YOU GO! VilaroMAXIMUM DAMAGE!
Marisol immediately follows with a vicious Swinging Neckbreaker onto the floor.
**THUD!**
Summer crashes hard.
The crowd groans.
Marisol rises.
Her face glows with satisfaction.
She throws both arms outward and basks in the boos.
TODD: Vicious attack by Marisol!
BAMA: You call it vicious, I call it stragetic Todd! You don't become CEO by playin' fair!
Marisol rolls Summer back inside.
The challenger slides in behind her.
She stalks toward the recovering champion.
Summer struggles to rise.
One knee.
Then another.
Marisol's smile slowly spreads.
BAMA: The predator senses weakness. And she’s ready to bite into her prey!
As Summer reaches her feet, Marisol explodes forward and drills her with a running Enzugiri.
**CRACK!**
Summer collapses sideways into the ropes.
The champion blinks repeatedly.
Trying to clear the cobwebs.
Marisol sees vulnerability.
And vulnerability is her favorite thing.
A cruel grin stretches across her face.
She grabs Summer by the chin.
Forcing eye contact.
Mocking her.
Talking directly into her face.
BAMA: Darn stupid microphones… we can’t hear the words Mari is saying to Summer…
TODD: But we can see Summer’s reaction! And whatever Mar is saying to Summer… it’s causing a visible shift in Summer Page!
Summer's eyes narrow.
The champion's breathing steadies.
Marisol notices immediately.
She goes to tighten her grip, securing Summer into a chinlock!
But Summer reacts with a lightning-fast snapmare, driving Mari up and over her shoulder and onto her ass!
TODD: What a counter by Summer Page!
The crowd rises as both women stand.
Summer's eyes remain locked on Marisol.
Marisol's eyes remain locked on Summer.
Neither woman blinks.
Neither woman yields.
Then both charge.
TODD: Here we go!
Marisol's face twists with urgency. The confidence she'd carried into the opening minutes is beginning to crack, and she knows it. Desperate to reassert control, she swings wildly for Summer's head.
Summer sees it coming.
A look of calm recognition flashes across her face.
She ducks underneath.
Marisol stumbles past.
Summer immediately catches her around the waist and plants her with a Snap Suplex.
**THUD!**
The crowd erupts.
Marisol rolls onto her stomach.
Her teeth grit.
Her hands claw against the canvas.
BAMA: C’mon Mari! That didn’t hurt!
TODD: I think it did, Bama! Not just Mari’s body, but her pride! She’s getting outwrestled!
Summer rises smoothly.
Marisol gets to her feet.
Summer immediately blasts her with a Chick Kick.
**SMACK!**
Marisol spins sideways.
Summer hooks her arm.
The champion's expression becomes focused and clinical.
She spins through.
**SNAP DDT!**
Marisol bounces off the mat.
Cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Marisol kicks out.
TODD: Another near fall!
BAMA: Summer better finish this thing before Mari gets creative!
Marisol immediately retreats toward a corner.
Her breathing becomes sharper.
More frantic.
Summer notices.
The champion slowly stalks forward.
As Summer closes in, Marisol's face brightens with sudden inspiration.
She explodes forward.
Summer braces.
Marisol leaps.
**VILARÓ EXPERIENCE!** (Handspring elbow!)
…
NO! Summer sidesteps.
Marisol crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles.
The crowd roars.
Summer immediately grabs her.
**ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLEX!**
Marisol folds onto the canvas.
The challenger grabs the back of her neck.
TODD: Summer has completely turned this match around!
BAMA: But Mari's got that look, Todd.
TODD: What look?
BAMA: The look she gets right before she takes things to the VilaroMAXX.
Marisol slowly rises.
Her jaw clenched.
Her eyes narrowing.
Summer advances.
Marisol immediately grabs a wrist and yanks Summer into a vicious Enzugiri.
**CRACK!**
Summer staggers backward.
Marisol's face lights up.
Finally.
An opening.
She immediately grabs Summer's arm and twists into a Spinning Wrist Lock.
Summer winces.
Marisol transitions smoothly.
Cross Armbreaker.
Summer cries out.
TODD: Submission attempt!
BAMA: BREAK HER ARM, MARI!
Marisol pulls back with everything she has.
The frustration.
The jealousy.
The resentment.
Every emotion pours into the hold.
Summer's face tightens.
Pain shoots through her shoulder.
But beneath the pain is determination.
With a scream, Summer begins crawling.
Dragging herself.
Inching toward the ropes.
Marisol's eyes widen.
Disbelief.
Then anger.
She digs her heels into the mat, trying to stop Summer from reaching the ropes…
Summer’s hand shakes…
Is she about to give out?
…
NO! Summer reaches the bottom rope!
The crowd erupts!
TODD: She makes it! Summer makes it!
The referee orders the break.
Marisol refuses.
The count begins.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Marisol finally releases.
The crowd rains down boos.
Marisol screams back at them.
Summer slowly rises using the ropes.
Marisol charges.
Summer sidesteps.
Marisol hits the ropes.
Summer catches her on the rebound.
**SPOTLIGHT!**
The modified neckbreaker plants Marisol!
The crowd explodes.
TODD: SPOTLIGHT! Summer hit the Spotlight! That’s gotta be it!
BAMA: NO! NOOOOOOOO!
Summer hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
Marisol rolls onto her back! Breaking the count!
TODD: Marisol Vilaro survives!
BAMA: …phew… Knew it wasn’t over yet!
Mari lies on the mat, Chest heaving. Eyes staring at the lights.
The champion rises.
The crowd is screaming, sensing the end!
Summer pulls Vilaro upward.
She hooks Mari into a front facelock.
Setting up for—
**PURE PERFECTION!** (PerfectPlex)
…
NO! In mid-air! Marisol suddenly begins flailing and gets back to the mat!
Summer maintains control of the grip, trying to latch tighter for better control!
But Mari sidechecks… throwing her body sideways.
The official is caught completely off guard!
**WHAM!**
The referee stumbles, bouncing into the ropes, then directly into Summer!
Both collide awkwardly.
Summer loses her grip.
The crowd groans.
TODD: Wait a minute!
BAMA: ACCIDENT! PURE ACCIDENT!
TODD: Oh come on!
The referee tumbles onto the mat.
Disoriented.
Summer rises off the mat, immediately turning toward Marisol.
Summer reaches forward for a collar-and-elbow tie-up.
Marisol reaches forward too.
Then—
**RAKE!**
Her fingernails claw directly across Summer's eyes.
**BOOOOOOOOOO!**
Summer screams and grabs her face.
The crowd erupts with outrage.
TODD: NO!
BAMA: THAT'S VETERAN INSTINCT!
TODD: SHE RAKED HER EYES!
BAMA: FAKE NEWS!
Blind and stumbling, Summer reaches forward helplessly.
Marisol immediately drops low.
Her face becomes a mask of greedy determination.
She hooks Summer's legs.
Then grabs a fistful of tights.
A huge fistful.
And yanks.
TODD: Not like this!
The referee turns around! And starts the count!
ONE!
Marisol bridges.
TWO!
Summer kicks!
…
THREE!
**DING DING DING!**
Winner and #1 Contender to the Revolution Title: Marisol Vilaro
The arena explodes into boos.
Marisol immediately releases and rolls from the ring.
The second the bell sounds, her face transforms.
A triumphant smile.
Arms raised.
BAMA: Mission accomplished! Unlike Summer Page, Mari EARNED her shot at the Revolution Title!
TODD: You've got to be kidding me!
BAMA: A win is a win, Todd!
TODD: Marisol Vilaró stole it!
BAMA: Cry more.
Inside the ring, Summer remains on her knees.
Outside the ring, Marisol begins backing up the ramp.
A smug smile stretching across her face.
She points directly at the Revolution Championship resting beside the timekeeper's area.
Then points at herself.
The shot cuts to the ring, where a lone example of one of Samael Dyson’s Insignificants is waiting with a mic in hand. Samael stands to his side, flanked by a few more Insignificants and his menacing Ubermensch!
Insignificant: Ladies and gentlemen, it is my esteemed pleasure to introduce, the man who is one of the LONGEST reigning Xtreme champions OF ALL TIME, the man who is about to win a 24/7 briefcase, my master….SAMAEL DYSON!
The crowd boos uproariously, but the Insignificant gestures to Samael dramatically (and obliviously). Samael looks pleasant as always.
Samael: I want that TRILLIONAIRE TURD ELON MUSK out here right now!
Elon appears on the rampway, looking confident as ever and he walks to the ring without much rush. Once he gets in the ring, he turns to Samael with a smirk.
Elon: Ladies and gentlemen, I am more than pleased… delighted even! To recognize our X-Ttreme champion everyone, give it up for….
Samael: Shut up! Don’t you go trying to glad handle me now. You’ve been ignoring my calls for the last two weeks. But now that I finally have your attention, we have a lot to discuss when it comes to my final match for the 24/7 briefcase.
Elon: Oh, how right you are.
Samael: Namely, I want to know what safety measures will be in place for the match. I’ve got a lot of heat at my back, Musk. Kristoffer Arroyo wants me dead, Lux wants me dead, my own FATHER wants me dead. Hell, Dolly Waters probably wants me dead too, let’s throw her in for good measure. What are we going to do to ensure my safety on Anarchy?
Elon strokes his chin thoughtfully.
Elon: Mister Dyson, let me assure you. I may have previously treated the riff-raff and the… commonfolk around this enterprise somewhat callously. But, I know an asset when I see an asset. And when I recognize an asset? I protect that asset.
Elon snaps his fingers.
Rolling down the ramp…
TODD: It’s… It’s Tommy Gunn and the XWF Security Team! Dressed in suits looking like the Secret Service!
BAMA: Hot dang, something about a bunch of guys in black suits… Lookin’ like gol’ darn Reservoir Dogs.
TODD: This crew used to be the Kingsguard! The Former Anarchy Tag-Team champions! What are they even doing here?!?
Tommy Gunn and a half-dozen almost-featureless men in suits and sunglasses roll down the ring.
Dyson looks on as the Insignificants regard them with a little suspicion and uncertainty, chittering amongst themselves.
Gunn steps through the ropes as his security team slides under the ropes under him. Gunn stops before Musk. Musk nods.
Gunn walks up to Dyson. The Ubermensch looks a little unnerved but Samael waves him off to put him at ease.
…
Gunn stands beside Dyson, before pressing his earpiece.
”Package is secure.”
The guards move around Dyson.
TODD: Oh my God! Elon Musk just gave Samael Dyson his own security detail!
Elon grins, clapping… seemingly for his own act.
Elon: These men will ensure the… preservation of what I perceive to be a potentially valuable asset.
Samael looks around at Gunn and his men, working his jaw before returning his attention to Musk.
Samael: It’s a start. But suffice it to say all of my people….
Samael gestures at the Ubermensch and his Insignificants.
Samael:.....will be on hand as well. And you know, I’m glad to see you taking me seriously, Elon. There seems to be a recurring issue at this company with people not taking me seriously, as if I’m not the longest reigning Universal Champion in YEARS.
Elon takes a step closer, closing the distance between himself and Dyson.
Elon:As I said, you DO have value. But, I’ll make one thing very clear, Mister Dyson. The value of this asset? Is one based on opportunity. On proximity to achieving something that no one has done in almost two years.
…
Elon: Don’t fuck it up.
Elon turns as if to leave, when Samael reaches out and puts a hand on Elon’s shoulder. Tommy Gunn looks to Elon, clearly not forgetting who signs his checks. But Musk just nods demurely, allaying Gunn’s concerns. Elon turns back around to consider Dyson again.
Samael: We’re not done. There’s one more thing I need to know. The opponent. Who is it?
The fans actually pop in anticipation of the potential announcement. Elon casts a glance at the fans, perhaps savoring the attention. He brings the mic up to his lips slowly….Samael looks at him intently. The tension builds!
Elon looks around, genuinely amused by how much attention is hanging on his word right now…
Elon: Your opponent is…
…
Elon: A former Universal champion!
The crowd starts to rumble with anticipation!
TODD: Who is it?!? Who could it be?!?
Elon: A former WARGAMES SURVIVOR!
BAMA: Oh damn!
Elon: Your opponent…
…
Elon: Is…
…
……
……….
TODD: GET ON WITH IT!
Elon: DICKIE! WATSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!
The fans pop huge! And at first Samael’s expression is inscrutable. But then, a slow wicked smile forms on his lips, followed soon after by a peal of derisive laughter. Elon cants his head at Samael, himself a little confused by the reaction. He nods at Samael and takes his leave from the ring as the XTreme champion whispers something to the Ubermensch.
BAMA: Dickie Watson is one helluva challenge for the champ to overcome!
TODD: I’ll say, which makes it all the more confounding that Samael seemed almost…..pleased….by the selection? Whatever the case this is sure to be one of the biggest matches in Anarchy history in just two weeks!
BAMA: It’s can’t miss TV to say the least, folks!
Thanks to our wonderful match writers
PETER PRINCIPAL
MICHEAL GRAVES
'HUGE' DICK LICHTER
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