June - 29 - 2026 PRIDE MONTH WARFARE! LIVE FROM CHASE CENTER SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA 'The Storm' Latoya Hixx - vs - Meteorologist Clown This match will be pre-recorded that morning. Meteorologist Clown must give a comprehensive report of the weather before Latoya pins him or makes him submit 'The Backwoods Butcher' Judd Hollow - vs - Apathy - vs - Jordan Penn Triple-Threat Elimination Match The Rollerwhores! Rollerwhore Violet and Rollerwhore Elektra - vs - 'Main Event' Jay Fetu and 'Surgeon of Thug' John Blade Tornado Tag ‘Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves - vs - Game Girl Singles Match XWF Television Championship Remi Storm © - vs - Korvayne 15 Minute Time Limit

NOTE: The Following match was recorded at 5:52 AM this morning as a segment on Good Morning San Francisco.

CTE: Gooooooooood MORNING, San Francisco! I’m Chet T. Evergreen!

PMS: And I’m Pamela M. Shelley! And THIS is Good Morning, San Francisco!

CTE: Get your morning coffee, put those eggs in the pan, hop on that exercise bike, cuz we’re starting your day off right!

PMS: And we’ve got a special treat for you to kick off this beautiful day!

CTE: Absolutely, Pam! We’re doing something a little un-traditional with our weather report today! It’s going to be given to you… in the form of a wrestling match!

PMS: Brought to you by the XWF! Wow!

CTE: Do you like wrestling, Pam?

PMS: Oh, I absolutely love it! Is Thaddeus Duke still a thing? He is so handsome!






CTE: And here’s Latoya Hixx! The woman they call THE STORM!

PMS: Wow! Someone tell me her workout routine cuz she is gorgeous!

CTE: Now, Miss Hixx has won several matches recently, including a win over ‘The Dragon’ Mark Cross AND El Rompecabezas!

PMS: The Storm is ROLLING, Chet! So… is she doing the weather this morning?

CTE: Ahaha, oh just you wait, Pam!


…



Meteorologist Clown steps in front of a green-screen in a polka dot suit with a little extendable pointer.

MC: Hey Chet! Hey Pam!

PMS: …Is that a clown?

CTE: Yes, it is, Pam! All the way from Clown City!

PMS: Is that north of Van Nuys?

MC: It’s a planet, Pam.

PMS: …Huh. Neat. So… wait, so, what’s happening?

CTE: Meteorologist Clown is going to give a COMPREHENSIVE REPORT of the weather!

PMS: …Okay, with you, so far.

CTE: And Latoya Hixx is going to try and beat him unconscious as he does it! Meteorologist Clown must complete his weather report before he gets pinned or submitted!

PMS:  And you’ve completely lost me.


CTE: Special Guest Referee David Koechner, who is here promoting his Office-themed bar trivia at mid-tier Comedy Clubs along the coast has offered to act as our special guest referee!

SNL’s David Koechner stands next to the green screen, a whistle in his mouth.

He blows it!

'The Storm' Latoya Hixx - vs - Meteorologist Clown This match will be pre-recorded that morning. Meteorologist Clown must give a comprehensive report of the weather before Latoya pins him or makes him submit

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The green screen behind Meteorologist Clown turns to a map of the San Francisco Bay!

MC: Well, folks, we’re looking at a high of seventeeEEEEEEE!

Hixx charges Meteorologist Clown, scooping him off his feet into a Bearhug!

MC scrambles and wriggles in Hixx’s grip, whacking her across the side of the head with his pointer!

PMS: Oh wow! She’s really trying to hurt him!

CTE: That’s generally the point, yes!

Hixx heaves him against the wall! Meteorologist Clown goes THUD against it, landing on his back with a pained grimace!

Hixx charges with a…

BIG BOOT!

…But MC ducks!

And Hixx’s boot sails over his head!

AND TAKES DOWN THE WALL BEHIND HIM!

PMS: Holy sh-...COW!

CTE: Nice save, Pam! Hixx misses what could have been an early knockout blow! But, she seems to have taken down Meteorologist Clown’s means of reporting the weather!

Latoya collapses into a pile of bricks and rubble…

Meteorologist Clown breathes heavily…

Before reaching up…

And pulling down a whole new wall like it’s a projector screen! RATTLE! CATCH!

PMS: …Did… that brick wall just make a sound like a pull-down screen?

CTE: Haha, reality, what even is it?

PMS: …

Meteorologist Clown points at the wall, on which the map is being projected!

MC: Folks, we’re looking at a high of sixty-seven degrees, low of fifty-four…

The map shifts to a graph of the hourly temperature…

MC: We’re looking at the low right now this morning, but those nicer sixties are gonna break through…

WHAM! Latoya busts through the back wall and scoops MC up by his neck!

MC: Urk! A…ar… aound 3pm…

MC struggles and wheezes as Latoya grips him by the throat!

PMS: He did it! He reported the weather!

CTE: Oh, please, Pam! This isn’t amateur hour! He has to deliver a COMPREHENSIVE weather report!

---

Koechner blows his whistle, more for fun than actually making any attempt to enforce order as Hixx slams MC back-first against the wall!

MC: And… ulch… and… if you’re… wheeze…

CTE: I can’t believe this! That woman is choking the life out of that clown and he’s still trying to get through the weather report!

PMS: He may be a clown but he’s a gosh darn professional!

Hixx squeezes his throat tighter… his eyes start to roll in his head, sounding like marbles!

…When his hand reaches for his chest flower…

WATER IN HIXX’S EYES! She covers her face and drops MC!

”Haha, classic.” Appreciates-the-Classics Clown says.

Hixx brushes the liquid out of her eyes…

MC: If you’re on the beach, be wary! There’s a beach advisory for sea spray… And an increased risk of…

Hixx opens her eyes…

IN TIME FOR A RIPCORD RIPTIDE LARIAT!

MC: Riptide!

Hixx does a full frontflip before landing on her back!

MC: Zero percent chance of precipitation! Just like there’s a zero percent chance I’m losing this match!

PMS: Okay, he’s GOTTA be done now, right?

CTE: Please, you call THAT comprehensive?

---

Hixx slowly rises off the set floor as MC starts speed-reading…

MC: Now, in the larger California area, we’re seeing the lower temperatures in Alameda but the higheeeeEEEEEER!

In a flash, Hixx scoops MC off his feet… INTO VERTICAL SUPLEX POSITION!

PMS: Wowie zowie!

CTE: …Pam, we can’t curse but this isn’t Bluey, you don’t have to talk like an idiot.

Hixx holds MC over her head straight as an arrow…

Koechner pulls out a stopwatch and starts timing it…

MC: …Higher… temperatures in… Bakersfieeeeeeeeld…

CTE: I think the blood is rushing to Meteorologist Clown’s head!

PMS: The pressure’s rising and his noodle’s about to get boiled!

WHAM! After eleven seconds, Hixx SLAMS MC to the set floor!

She hooks the leg!


Koechner counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Meteorologist Clown kicks out!

MC: And… MC wheezes… MC: And that covers… California…

…

MC: To the larger West…

PMS: Oh c’mon! How comprehensive does this report have to be!

---

Hixx has MC in a sleeper hold on the floor of the set as his pointer desperately swings through the air…

PMS: Okay, she’s about to do it! He’s managed to wheeze his way through the US weather, Europe AND covered Africa, Asia, Australia!...But, she’s officially closed his windpipe! This has GOT to be over now, right?

CTE: If that hand drops three times, Hixx wins by sleeper hold!

Koechner holds the clown’s arm… He raises it!

…

Down it goes!

ONE!

…

He raises it again…

…

Down it goes!

TWO!

CTE: This could be it! Hixx might have it!

…

Koechner raises it!

…

The arm drops!

…But the hand stays in Koechner’s hand!

PMS: …What?

CTE: He’s a clown! His hand came off! Which means it didn’t drop!

Koechner looks at the prop hand in his hand like he’s trying to figure out how to rule on it…

Meanwhile, MC’s eyes shoot open! He shoves his thumb into his mouth and BLOWS!

His head expands like a balloon!

PMS: …What is even happening?

CTE: It’s straight-up Looney Tunes rules out here!

Hixx tries to clinch her grip, but the clown’s head gets a greater and greater circumference…

Until…



His head explodes! Hixx is BURST back against the wall!

Hixx collapses in a heap!

For a moment, MC stands in front of the wall, headless.

…

PMS: …Hello?

Fwoop. Meteorologist Clown’s head emerges from his chest like a turtle.

MC: And in Anarctica, it’s currently negative 90, but it FEELS like negative 119, so break out those parkas before you go ice fishing!

PMS: Phew, that’s gotta be it.

…

The weather map zooms out…

MC: And now onto weather on other planets![/blue

PMS: OH C’MON!

---

[blue]MC: And that covers Andromeda, onto galaxies beyond your human perception…

The Clown’s eyes go white!

MC: ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⟒⏃⏁⊑⟒⍀ ⟟⌇ ⏁⊑⍜⍀⍜⎍☌⊑⌰⊬ ⌿⌰⟒⏃⌇⏃⋏⏁ ⏁⊑⍀⍜⎍☌⊑⍜⎍⏁ ⏁⊑⟒ ☍⋏⍜⍙⋏ ☊⍜⌇⋔⍜⌇ ⏃⌇ ⍙⟒ ⟊⍜⟟⋏ ⟟⋏⏁⍜ ⍜⋏⟒ ☊⍜⋏⌇☊⟟⍜⎍⌇⋏⟒⌇⌇

FWOOM! Hixx rises off the wall! She’s got one last shot!

CTE: Oh dear! I think Meteorologist Clown’s alien gibberish has left vulnerable to a sneak attack!

She charges, looking for a…

BICYCLE KICK!

WHAM! It catches Meteorologist Clown right in the schnozz which honks!

Meteorologist Clown drops to the set!

Hixx collapses down, exhausted!

PMS: Oh my goodness, it feels like this has been going for hours! How much longer is a comprehensive weather report?!?

CTE: Hmm?

PMS: You’ve been saying that Clown needed to do a comprehensive weather report to win! How much more comprehensive does he have to get! He’s literally covered every continent… AND PLANET!

CTE: Pam, I didn’t want him to leave San Francisco with his report, I literally just wanted him to say the humidity.

PMS: …Oh.

Meteorologist Clown and Hixx both slowly rise to their feet…

”And finally… wheeze… expect a humidity of…”

WHAM! Hixx catches him with a right hand!

”...A…. A humidity of…”

WHAM! Another right…

”...A…. A humbly dumblydore…”

Hixx reels back her fist for a knockout blow!

SHE SWINGS!

…But MC ducks!

They both spin!

”Expect a humidity of sixt-URGH!”

Hixx’s hands shoot over MC’s mouth! They both tumble down to the set!

CTE: It’s still anybody’s game!

PMS: Just these two or literally anybody!

CTE: Pam, what kinda dumb question is that? Of course, when I say ‘anybody’s game’, I mean the two competitors in the match!

PMS: Well, then who are these two guys?

Two figures emerge onto the set…

CTE: Gasp! IT’S BoB! Charlie Nickles and Jordan Penn! They lost the Tag Team Championships to the Clowns at Leap of Faith!

Hixx and MC are rolling over each other, throttling each other…

When Nickles barrels over both of them with a diving tackle!

PMS: …Is… is this still part of the planned segment?

Penn scoops Hixx by the scruff of her neck…

BEAUTIFUL moonsault DDT, driving Hixx’s skull onto the set floor!

As Nickles scoops Meteorologist Clown into position for a…

DEVIL!

HOOK!

DROP!

Both competitors are out!

NO CONTEST!

CTE: And that’s it! What did you think of that, Pam!

PMS: …I don’t… I don’t even know what the weather’s going to be today!

Hixx and MC lie on the set unconscious…

As Nickes and Penn skulk over to the set… and steal the Tag Team Championship belts!

CTE: Gasp! BoB is stealing back the tag titles! What implications does this have for Monday Night Warfare?!?

PMS: Better tune it later tonight and see, Chet!

CTE: You betcha, Pam!

---

The lights in the arena cut out entirely, and the fans begin to buzz. The darkness holds for a moment before…

Royal Deluxe - "Fame" (Official Audio)



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.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce steps out into the light and flings his arms outwards, before looking up towards the ring with a smirk upon his face. The lights lift, and SEB makes his way to ringside, slapping hands with fans as he does. He climbs the steps, picking up a microphone as he goes, and slips into the ring.

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)

He circles the ring, taking in the reaction of the crowd.

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 extends his arms once more before reaching down and unbuttoning the navy blue jacket he’s wearing, to reveal beneath it the XWF Universal Championship

Is it any wonder?
Is it any wonder?
Is it any wonder?
Is it any wonder? (Ooh)

The recently crowned XWF Universal Champion lifts the microphone to his lips to speak, however as he does, he’s drowned out by the cheers of the XWF faithful - an emotional looking Sebastian Everett-Bryce pauses and allows the cheers of the crowd to wash over him.

Eventually, the crowd quieten enough that Seb is able to lift the mic one more time.

“Thank you all for that wonderful reception,” said Seb, tucking the thumb of his spare hand into the XWF Universal Championship. “You know - there was a time where I never believed this would be possible - me, standing in front of you all, as the XWF Universal Champion… I suppose… If I’m being honest with you all, that could well have been part of the reason I was so reluctant to cash in…”

Seb pauses, for a second, and runs his hand over the gold around his waist.

“Because while I held that 24/7 briefcase… There was always a chance. But the moment I cashed it in, that chance became a hope, and that hope became… what was probably the last opportunity I was ever going to get to win back this title…” said Seb, before chewing on his lip. “It was along, long fifteen months between losing this belt back in January last year, to winning it back… And the first thing I have to say is to Scoops McGee - that crazy old bastard. Scoops - I want to thank you for our match at Leap of Faith. You were one hell of a Universal Champion… And you truly deserved your time spent with this title around your waist,”

Seb paused as the crowd showed their affection and appreciation for the former Universal Champion.

“That match was one of the toughest of my career - hence me not being here on Warfare two weeks ago. But I couldn’t miss another episode… And I couldn’t miss the chance to celebrate with all of you, because if this IS the last major Championship that I ever hold, I want to make sure I enjoy every second of holding it… And I hope, more than anything, that I can be a worthy Champion for all of you…” said Seb with a smile.

“So… Without further ado… Lets get this party…” Seb began, but what came next we’d never find out, as he was cut off by the music of The Trillionaires.



One by one, Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg make their way out onto the ramp, each of them looking on with a pained smile etched into their faces. Bezos stands with his feet apart, hands on his hips - classic power stance. Musk is in the centre, microphone in hand, whilst Zuckerberg tries with all his might to find a standing position that looks “natural”.

Finally, Musk lifts the microphone to his lips.

“Congratulations XWF Universe… your Trillionaires are here,” said Musk, pausing for a second so he can visibly ignore the boos of the crowd. “And of course, congratulations are due to you as well, Sebastian - not for winning the Universal Championship, no, no, no. But for managing not to start an unauthorised celebration without us - but we’re here now. Which means… We can finally get this Space X sponsored Championship celebration underway with our… New… Universal Champion!”

The screens in the arena all suddenly change to the same graphic that says…

‘You Can’t be a Champion of the Universe, without a way to travel in style… SPACE X!’

The crowd continued to boo. Seb’s mouth curls into a smirk, before he lifts the microphone to his lips.

“Firstly, the reason that this celebration started without you, was because I didn’t invite you - because this was for me, and these people… Honestly, Elon, I had no interest in seeing your smarmy, arrogant face out here acting as though you’d won this title while Bezos windmills his penile implant and Zucker-borg tries to mimic human expression…” said Seb.

“How dare…” Musk began as Bezos made to storm the ring, held back only by the power of one single musk hand.

“Secondly,” said Seb, his smirk turning into a scowl. “And I want to make this really, fucking, clear… I am not now, nor will I ever be… YOUR Champion… And if the three of you want to try and fuck with me, you might want to look into what happened to the last rich prick who thought he could throw his power and his money around and get me to do what they want… He’s in a prison in London.”

Bezos tries to storm the ring once more - again, only held back by the sheer strength of Musk’s flailing arm. Zuckerberg tries to mimic anger, but looks constipated.

“You know something, Sebastian, we had hoped given your background that you could understand what we’re trying to do here in XWF. We had hoped that you might see the wisdom in working with us, instead of against us like so many seem to want to do,” said Musk. “Seemingly, you’re no different to any of the other disgusting, ungrateful, people here in California.”

The crowd begin to boo.

“But that’s fine - we will do what we’ve always done. Innovate and continue to deliver the things that we know you people want before you know you want it. We’ll continue to provide you with the kind of future that none of you deserve. Because, as benevolent as we are, we can ignore the fact that the unwashed masses have no idea what’s best for them and for this business… And make the hard choices… Which is why, we’ve already selected the opponent for your first defence. It’s about time that the XWF had a Universal Champion that we can all be proud of…”[green] said Musk.

Zucker-borg tapped Musk on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. Musk shakes his head.

[green]“No, not you, Mark!” he said. Bezos puffed up his chest - the most powerful power stance of all. “Or you, Jeff! No - I’m talking about a man with one of the greatest records this company has ever seen!”

Seb’s head tilts, and he nods as if to say, alright… Who is it?

“So - first the first time ever in XWF, the current Universal Champion - Sebastian Everett-Bryce - will defend his Championship at Bad Medicine against… Michael Graves!” announces Elon.

And for a second - the smirk on Seb’s face falters at the announcement.

The Trillionaires all look incredibly pleased with themselves.

“Alright,” said Seb with a nod. “Alright - fine. Graves it is - this is exactly the kind of match that I joined XWF to have. Three weeks - San Francisco, California… SEB Vs Graves for the Universal Championship. And as for taking this title off me, like a Space X launch built from parts delivered by Amazon all streamed on Facebook - I’ll be more than happy to leave the three of you utterly disappointed when your plans come to shit! See you in a few weeks, fellas.”

Seb dropped the mic as Fame began to play again, and Musk is left explaining Seb’s jibe to Bezos and Zuck, as Seb celebrates with the fans in Los Angeles.

The music suddenly stops and the arena lights go black.

Seb slowly lowers the Universal Championship as the X-Tron fires to life, revealing Micheal Graves sitting in a folding chair, leaning forward and staring directly into the camera with an unsettling smile.

"Graves it is?"

He chuckles.

"You say that like you just picked me off the fuckin’ menu."

Graves leans back in the chair.

"You didn’t choose me, Sebastian.

You just got chosen for me.

And Elon, buddy, don’t you worry your rich little head off.

I ain’t gonna let you down...

But I sure as shit ain’t doing it for you."

Graves points toward the camera.

"Seb, you got three weeks.

Three weeks to polish that belt.

Three weeks to sleep beside it.

Three weeks to take it out to dinner, cut a little hole in it and make the most of the time you got left together…"

The smile disappears.

"Because you didn’t build an empire, Sebastian. You simply moved into the ruins I left behind."

Graves stands and steps toward the camera until his face fills the screen.




"Bad Medicine..."

The smile slowly returns.

"I’m comin’ to kick in the fuckin’ door, tear it all back down…"

Graves sucks his teeth and stares through the camera.

"…and pick up the only piece worth keepin’."


The X-Tron abruptly cuts to black.

---

We cut backstage to see a smarmy looking gentleman of about twenty years of age wandering down the corridors. He has a mic in his hand and adjusts the rental suit he has on. He goes door to door, looking increasingly miffed.

It’s only now that he seems to realize the live camera is on him and he jolts into an interviewer stance.

INTERVIEWER: OH! Uh. Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for joining me. I’m here backstage looking for the GREAT Korvayne. Join me on this hunt.

Apparently he’s an amatruer interviewer because he hasn’t given his name yet.

He continues on until he finally spots the door. He belts a triumphant squeal and hurries to it, knocking less like a professional and more like a giddy fan.

The door swings open.

It’s not Korvayne.

It’s her Simp.

The large Simp tries to step out of the door to confront the interviewer but is too rotund, so he kinda stands wedged like a human-sized marshmallow.

SIMP: Who the hell are you?

INTERVIEWER: I’m an XWF interviewer. I’m-

The Simp cuts him off by grabbing his collar.

SIMP: If you wanna talk to the Woman above all Women, the future two-time TV Champeen, you better pay the toll. Gimme that tribute.

The interviewer is miffed again.

The Simp points down the hall.

SIMP: Bring me a Cherry Pepsi, a bag of M&Ms, and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. Then you MIGHT get the chance to talk ot her.

The Simp struggles to unwedge himself out of the door frame and slams it shut.

We watch the interviewer annoyingly walk down the hall and go through the task of getting those exact items. He then goes back to the door, knocks, and the Simp answers by rudely grabbing the ‘toll” out of the man’s hands.

But his wish is granted.

The GREAT Korvayne steps out looking absolutely stunning in her fresh and fleek ring attire. The interviewer visibly gets weak in the knees and has to use the wall to keep himself upright. She has the Remi doll with her, which she twirls uncaringly in her hand.

The crowd goes NUCLEAR on her, booing the FUCK out of her despite this being her home state, good ole Sunny California.

She can hear them all they way back here and blows them off with an eye roll.

KORVAYNE: Wow. XWF has interviewers now?

He goes to answer but she cuts him off.

KORVAYNE: Shut up. Stand there. Listen. I’m glad you’re here because I need to make an official announcement. In my vignette I told the world that I want Charlie one on one at Bad Medicine. Well, now I’m not asking or wishing or hoping for it. I am DEMANDING it. That’s right. It’s official. Korvayne versus Charlie Nickles at Bad Medicine!

The crowd who were booing moments ago cheer for the match announcement.

INTERVIEWER: OH MY GOD what an announcement! Now if I could ask you-

She cuts him off again with a simple finger snap.

KORVAYNE: First, what’s your name?

INTERVIEWER: Buster Cherry!

Her eyes narrow with offense.

KORVAYNE: You can’t be serious.

BUSTER CHERRY: I am. My parents were real jokesters. Especially my Dad.

KORVAYNE: Hmm. And what do we do with bad jokes?

He looks confused.

BUSTER CHERRY: Drop them?

Out of nowhere, she drops him with a karate chop to the throat. As he wallows on the floor, she mudhole stomps him and screeches for her Simp to join in.

He tries, but he is too overweight to fit through the door frame. Korvayne drags Buster over to him and restrains him, allowing the Simp to get a few shots in as well before shoving him away.

The last shot we see is of Buster crawling on all fours away from them as fast as he can.

---

JC: Folks, we’re onto our first LIVE match of the night and it is jam-packed with talent!

JR: We got some old stars that have dominated the biz, a woman that has dominated everywhere else and is still introducing herself to the XWF… and a new, fresh-out-the-pack star!



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.

"All the true believers, All the true believers, All the true believers..."

[red]"WAKE THE FUCK UP!"[/red]

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.

JC: There he is! The Blaque Sheep! The man known as The Director! Jordan Penn!

JR: Don’t adjust your sets… or if you were born this decade, double-check the pixel count on your video, folks! This is NOT the man you just saw in the ring, Sebastian-Everett Bryce! This is his doppelganger… his brother from… the same… mother? Jordan Penn!

JC: Jordan Penn has dedicated his life to making SEB’s life an absolute horror-show in past months… attacking him, not only in the XWF, but outside of it in other feds like UGWC!

JR: Their feud spans across the entire wrestling industry and beyond Jacuinde! And ya gotta imagine SEB winning the Universal title at Leap of Faith has only gotten Penn’s mind working harder on how he can steal SEB’s shine at the most devastating moment possible…

JC: Relentless is looming, Joe! Penn’s got a long road ahead if he wants to set himself up for a Universal Title shot… but a win tonight would make that goal utterly reachable!

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.

…



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##

JC: And there she is! Apathy! And despite her name, she looks absolutely LOCKED IN for this match!

JR: Last time we saw Apathy, she was in the ring with that Monster, Oz! And she managed to take that mean bastard down and score a win!

JC: It’s no small feat to take out Anarchy’s workhorse! Apathy’s impressed every time she’s stepped in an XWF ring… and she’s dominated almost everywhere else she’s competed! Can she keep that momentum rolling tonight?


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#

…



JC: WOW! There he is! The Backwoods Butcher! Judd Hollow!

JR: He made it very clear, Jacuinde! He’s not here for titles. He’s not here for glory! He’s here for the RECKONING.

JC: Hollow says the XWF is filled to the brim with ROT… A festering cesspool of muck! And here’s here to excise the filth! The dynasties… the dictators… the aristocrats!

JR: …Whoa, you don’t think he’s talking about the Trillionaires, do you? Elon wants to drain the swamp as much as anybody!

JC: I think Hollow sees every living soul in the XWF as the rot. And he plans to demonstrate his cure tonight.

…

Apathy bounces from one foot to another in her corner, warming up her knees, bobbing her head to prepare for a fight…

Penn stands in his corner, his eyes darting slowly between his opponents, as if calculating weaknesses he can exploit…

Hollow stands upright, hauntingly immobile…

…

Penn slowly approaches Hollow.

JC: Oh man. This is a risk… Penn’s approaching the biggest man in the ring before the bell even rings!

Penn points to himself… and then to Hollow… back-and-forth…

And then draws his thumb across his throat pointing at Apathy.

…Apathy stops hopping and glowers at Penn.

JC: Oh my! Penn’s asking for Hollow and himself to make a team to eliminate Apathy first!

JR: It’s a bold suggestion, Jacuinde! But Apathy might be the most decorated star in the ring right now! Penn’s trying to get the rookie to get this down just the two of them!

The six-foot-seven, 273-pound monster doesn’t react. He doesn’t so much as move a muscle as Penn makes his case…

Until Penn stops talking, a look of mild frustration on his face.

JC: Looks like Penn can’t direct Hollow like he can his henchmen!

…Penn shrugs, before turning to make the same pitch to Apath-

WHAM! Apathy hits Penn with a running dropkick under the chin!

The official calls for the bell!

'The Backwoods Butcher' Judd Hollow - vs - Apathy - vs - Jordan Penn Triple-Threat Elimination Match

JC: And we’re under way!

Penn hits back against the mat as Apathy zips off the mat, looking to aim a dropkick at her other opponent!

She fires it off!

…

It bounces off Hollow’s chest! And he still doesn’t move an inch!

JC: WOW! Hollow is a brick wall!

Apathy quickly rolls to her feet, charging for anoth-

WHAM! In a sudden rush of movement, Hollow catches Apathy with a…

RUNNING KNEE to the chin!

JC: Holy SHIT!

JR: That guy’s not only fast he’s as quick as a Tennessee hiccup!

Apathy reels her head back, momentarily stunned as she staggers back into the corner…

JC: Apathy trying to get a moment to breathe h-

SPLASH! Hollow is already across the ring with a…

RUNNING CANNONBALL!

JC: Holy…

JR: You already said that once, Jacuinde! And I don’t think there’s anything ‘holy’ about Hollow! This is an unholy beatdown tonight!

JC: It’s hard not to be shocked! This guy moves like if a football linebacker could do Russian ballet! He’s like if a freight train could Tokyo Drift!

Apathy is crushed into the corner, sinking against the padding…

As Hollow raises his hand…

AND SEIZES APATHY BY THE THROAT!

TONGAN DEATH GRIP!

JC: Oh my God! This isn’t wrestling, this is an assault!

JR: You can mix up the two when someone is as dominant as Hollow is!

Apathy squeezes at Hollow’s hands as his teeth grit… as the muscles in his face clench… as he seemingly excises the life out of Apathy!

Her resistance goes from a desperate fight to survive to convulsing, her body trying to fight out as a reflex…

The official counts because Apathy is still against the ropes in the corner!


One!

Two!



But Hollow clinches tighter… As if he can’t hear the official!


JC: If Hollow isn’t careful, he might get himself disqualified!

Three!

Apathy’s eyes rapidly blink… she might be out…

WHAM! From behind, Jordan Penn clips Hollow with a running chop block! He releases his hold, his knees buckling!

JR: There’s Jordan Penn! The Utlimate Opportunist! The bigger they are, the harder they fall!

JC: …But Hollow didn’t fall all the way down!

Indeed, Hollow’s knee buckled but he remains upright!

BAP! BAP! Penn peppers Hollow with blows to the back of the head! Before draggin him back by his dreadlocks to the center of the ring!

JC: When Penn sees an opening, he refuses to let it slip!

Penn pulls Hollow down into a guillotine position for a…

REVERSE DDT!

…

No! Hollow reverses! He spins Penn out, back face-to-face, Irish Whip!

…No! Reversal! Hollow pulls Penn towards him…

BONE ORCHARD SWING! (Running Discus Lariat)

Penn does TWO full rotations in midair before landing on his face!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Hollow raises his arms to the crowd… his face calm, but his aura undeniable…

JC: I think this crowd agrees with my assessment, Joe! Holy shit, indeed!

Hollow grabs Penn by the scruff of the neck

He mimics Penn’s earlier gesture, drawing a thumb across his throat.

JC: We might be about to see our first elimination!

Hollow scoops Penn into powerbomb position…

Penn comes to on his shoulders… looking like he doesn’t want to be there!

Hollow backs into the corner!

JC: Oh my…

JR: Someone direct Penn’s estate to leave me his Director costume… it’s about to go way up in value after he dies in the ring!

HOLLOW RUNS!

DEVIL’S HOL-

…No!

As he runs, Apathy darts out of the corner!

Shotgun dropkick to the stomach!

Hollow drops Penn and doubles over, falling onto his knees!

JC: Apathy’s not done yet!

JR: What a strike by Apathy!

Hollow fumes, trying to surge back to a vertical b-

WHAM!

Standing double foot-stomp catching Hollow in the face! Apathy isn’t done scrapping yet!

Hollow hits his back to the mat!

JC: Hollow is finally looking mort-

…Before backwards somersaulting up to a vertical base!

JC: …Wow.

JR: Spoke too soon again, huh, Jacuinde?

Apathy stares at Hollow… Hollow cranks his neck.

Penn slowly rises off the mat, blinking rapidly… he pats his chest as if trying to figure out why he’s still conscious!

Apathy smacks him on the shoulder, before pointing at Hollow…

JC: I think Apathy recognizes Hollow might be a two-man job!

JR: Hollow might be a small army’s job, Jacuinde! But I must admit Apathy’s opening came from when Judd was focused on Jordan! Can these two possibly stop Hollow together?

…Penn eyes Hollow… then Apathy… he nods rapidly, fine, fine, deal.

They both turn towards Hollow… Who breathes in this moment…

The crowd rises to their feet in anticipation!

JC: This crowd is ready for a fight!

Apathy and Jordan, poised to fight as Hollow remains still…

…Jordan…

Jordan Penn…

Penn kicks Apathy forward!

JR: Oh no! The alliance falters!

JC: The alliance literally just started and immediately crumbles!

Apathy is propelled forward… Straight into Hollow’s hands!

Penn tries to follow it up with a running forearm…

NO! Hollow catches him with a BIG BOOT!

JC: Penn took a calculated risk to create the best opening for himself!

JR: But he didn’t account for what a genetic FREAK Judd Hollow is!

Penn drops to the mat!

As Hollow scoops Apathy into powerbomb position…

DEVIL’S HOLLOW!

Hollow drops into a cover with both hands on Apathy’s chest!

Penn slowly blinks off the mat… looking up at the pin….

ONE!

Hollow stares him dead in the eye as he pins Apathy…

TWO!

…Penn…

…

Penn rolls under the bottom rope!

THREE!

Eliminated: Apathy

JC: Apathy’s out! And that leaves Hollow and Penn!

Jordan Penn stands outside the ring… chest heaving… As Hollow slowly stands, beckoning him to return and accept his fate…

…

Penn waves him off and starts backing up the ramp!

JC: What’s this?!?

Hollow’s expression sours as Penn smiles, backing up the ramp…

JR: Jordan Penn knows when he’s outgunned! He’s choosing to lick his wounds and fight another day!

The official is counting him out but Penn seems utterly disinterested in making a return, eyes locked toward the ring like Hollow is a wild animal he doesn’t want to offer his back to…

…

And when he hits the top of the ramp, the official’s count hits ten.

Eliminted by Count-Out: Jordan Penn

Winner: ‘Backwoods Butcher’ Judd Hollow

JC: What an absolutely dominant debut for Judd Hollow! He looked like a munitions factory the way he was dealing DEVASTATING damage out there!

JR: And he looks like the match didn’t fill him up! He looks like Penn owes him a debt of dying in the ring with him like a man!

JC: And Hollow’s a man that doesn’t leave debts uncollected!

JR: But Jordan Penn is a man who knows how to deal with people knocking on his door!

Penn sneers at the top of the ramp, golf-clapping Hollow’s performance sarcastically… As Hollow eyes him like a hungry predator.

We cut to commercial.

---

Backstage, the scene opens up under the eerie  malfunctioning glow of failing fluorescent lights in one of the darkest corners of the locker room. Water from a rusted pipe drips into a dingy five-gallon bucket, stopping it from ponding across the concrete floor. The camera lingers on the rippling water inside as each drop echoes louderqq than the last…


DRIP…

DRIP…

DRIP…


The camera finally pans away. Judd Hollow sits slouched against an old steel locker, chest rising and falling from the match he had earlier in the night. Sweat rolled from his tangled blonde dreadlocks, before beading off down his chest.

He didn’t smile, nor did he celebrate…

His cold, hardened stare- that of a serial killer, remained fixed on the puddle collecting inside the bucket.

Beside him stood Malachi Graves. The old reverend looked untouched by the violence as if he had seen it before.

Malachi’s weathered black coat hung neatly from his shoulders while an aged rosary slowly slipped bead by bead through his fingers. Beneath one arm rested the worn leather binding of The Nocturne Gospel, its yellowed pages marked by countless handwritten notes and symbols.

Another drip echoed…


DRIP…


Malachi slowly opened the Gospel. His eyes searched through the pages, until his face became stained with a smile.

Malachi Graves: “My dear brothers and sisters…”

His voice rolled through the empty hallway like he was proudly reading a eulogy…

Malachi Graves: “Tonight was not victory- Victory implies something has ended.”

He gently shook his head…

Malachi Graves: “Tonight… this was the beginning.”

He looked toward Judd, who never once lifted his eyes from the floor…

Malachi Graves: “The blind witnessed violence. While the faithful witnessed prophecy!”

Malachi carefully turned another page. As the camera started to pan out more. Shadows of people began to come into view deep in the back of the locker room. Followers- the believers, watching on…

Malachi Graves: “The Nocturne Gospel speaks of a man long before kingdoms ever crowned themselves righteous. A man baptized not by holy water, but by hardship. A man whose heart would freeze long before his blood ever could.”

His finger slowly made his way in Judd’s direction as he closed The Nocturne Gospel aggressively…

Malachi Graves: “You people hear suffering and believe it should be comforted?”

The Fallen Father shakes his head frantically back and forth…

Malachi Graves: “We do not, because suffering festers - It spreads.”

Without any emotion behind it, Judd speaks…

Judd Hollow: “It breeds weakness!”

Malachi nods in agreement…

Malachi Graves: “The Nocturne Gospel teaches something the churches polished and tried to keep hidden… A truth that was buried centuries ago!”

Malachi took one slow step toward the camera, he spoke with absolute conviction now…

Malachi Graves: “Sometimes mercy wears the face of slaughter.”

His rosary now began to wrap around his fist as he swung it restlessly. The members of the Following lurked in the blackness still, inching a little closer… mesmerized by every word Graves spoke.

Malachi Graves: “The sheep cry because they do not understand the shepherd’s knife. They believe death and evil to be cruelty. When in truth… sometimes- just sometimes.”

Malachi stopped for a moment, looking down at the rosary. He bowed his head as a bead of sweat dripped down his brow…

Malachi Graves: “…It is deliverance.”

Another slow smile spread across his face...

Malachi Graves: “See, Judd Hollow was never chosen to save this world- Judd Hollow was chosen to finish it!”

Malachi stomped his foot heavily upon the ground. A vein began to pulse from his forehead. It seemed the deeper he got into his preaching the louder and more sincere he became.

Malachi Graves: “The End All.”

His eyes narrowed.

Malachi Graves: “There are evils that Heaven itself refuses to dirty its hands committing.”

Malachi untangles his rosary beads now allowing them to dangle freely. From being wrapped around his hand so tight, the beads had actually dug into his skin causing a small amount of blood to trickle down his fingers. After he takes notice of this he smirks before looking back at the camera.

Malachi Graves: “So it chooses vessels- Executioners!”

Malachi grows wide-eyed again as his voice grows more gloomy and concerning…

Malachi Graves: “The weak and feeble-minded, call them monsters.”

The sound of concern now becomes a tone of confidence and clarity…

Malachi Graves: “But the enlightened… call them holy.”

Malachi leans down and he gently rests his hand on Judd’s shoulder.

Malachi Graves: “The sheep inside XWF will scream. They will call him evil because feeble minds cannot comprehend a holiness written in blood instead of ink. Most of all- they will curse his name.”

Extending his arms toward the camera, The Haunted Reverend begins to bring validation to his statement…

Malachi Graves: “For my brothers and sisters, you all know of another person's name that was cursed. Look no further than Jesus Christ himself…”

Judd Hollow: “For all of you, fear what you can not understand…”

Lifting his head, the camera focused on Judd as he spoke again. His voice was little more than a gravelly whisper.

Judd Hollow: “You all sound the same…”

The locker room got strangely quiet from a long pause… At this point you could feel a chill in the air through visual.

Judd Hollow: “When you’re  scared.”

More horror in the silence- until that silence is broken by another drip…


DRIP…


Malachi couldn’t help but grin.

Malachi Graves: “You see, Judd does not care about names. He hears only suffering. Every soul standing before him…is begging for the same cure. This world, this culture, XWF- has lost its way…”

Malachi Graves: “It’s like Noah’s Ark all over again…”

As Malachi pauses and looks around, The Followers are still all ears, feasting upon every wicked word…

Malachi Graves: “Jordan… Apathy… You were not the destination, you were merely the opening verse.”

The Reverend looked directly into the lens…

Malachi Graves: “I told you all that this was just the start. The beginning of the end- The Omega, and when the Nocturne begins its final chapter…”

Malachi Graves: “…there will be no altar left to kneel before. For there will not be enough living, to bury the dead. All that will be left is something far worse than Revelation!”

The camera slowly drifts back toward the bucket.


DRIP…

DRIP…

DRIP…


Fade to black.

---

The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. He talks to the cameraman and bounces a little. He holds up his “Never Give Up” logo flag and tosses it to the fans. He salutes and runs straight down towards the ring. He bounces off the ropes side to side and he holds up his “Hustle, Loyalty, and Respect” shirt. He takes off his hat and tosses his shirt to the fans, hands his Chain to the ref, and waits for his opponent to arrive

&list=RD0vqy1VOvJ8Y

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 and 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

&list=RDJ49vw4_TYvE

Rollerwhores Violet & Elektra skate down the ramp accompanied by a militia of Rollerwhores who carry the Xtreme Champion Samael Dyson down on a throne. The two slide into the ring and skate around like it was one of those dope ass derbys.

JC: Tornado tag rules right now as The Rollerwhores, Violet and Elektra, with Samael Dyson at ringside, take on the team of Main Event Jay Fetu and John Blade!

JR: Tornado tag means all four of these competitors are legal at once, Jacuinde, and given who we're talking about, I don't think the rulebook is going to matter much anyway.

The Rollerwhores! Rollerwhore Violet and Rollerwhore Elektra - vs - 'Main Event' Jay Fetu and 'Surgeon of Thug' John Blade Tornado Tag

DING! DING! DING!

The bell rings and all four competitors immediately pair off, Jay Fetu squaring up with Violet while John Blade circles Elektra near the far ropes. Violet skates forward fast, the wheels giving her an extra burst Jay isn't expecting, and she ducks his lockup attempt entirely, sliding around behind him and grinding against his back before shoving him face first into the turnbuckle. Jay spins around furious and fires off a corner enzuigiri that catches her gas mask clean, but the mask absorbs the worst of it and Violet barely stumbles.


JC: Jay Fetu landed that kick clean and it barely moved her!


JR: That's the mask. Striking the head doesn't do what you'd expect against these two.


Across the ring John Blade scoops Elektra for an early shoulder block that sends her into the ropes, and on the rebound he catches her with a spinebuster that shakes the ring. He doesn't get a count, since this is tornado rules and Violet is already sliding into the ring on her knees to break up anything before it starts, kicking John square in the ribs from the skates. John grunts and turns his attention to her, and Elektra uses the opening to crawl to her corner where Samael Dyson is shouting instructions from ringside.


Jay Fetu, meanwhile, has Violet cornered and unloads a series of right hands before whipping her across the ring. She reverses it at the last second using the extra momentum from her skates, sending Jay barreling into the corner instead, and follows up by grinding against him from behind before lifting his mask, except Jay doesn't wear one, so she settles for licking the side of his face instead, which throws him off just enough for her to land a clean superkick.


JC: I don't even know how to call that one, Joe.


JR: Don't try, Jacuinde. Just let it happen.


John Blade fights free of Elektra and connects with a leaping clothesline, dropping her hard, and follows with a diving leg drop across her chest. He covers, but there's no referee count that matters yet with all four legal, and Violet breaks it up by skating in and driving an elbow into the back of John's head. Jay Fetu, recovering, spears Violet from the side with the Fetu Spear, catching her clean off the ropes and flattening her in the middle of the ring. The crowd explodes.


JC: FETU SPEAR! Violet is down!


Jay climbs to the top rope looking for the Fetu Splash, but Elektra recovers just in time and shoves the rope, throwing off his balance enough that he has to leap down instead of executing it cleanly. He lands awkwardly and Elektra capitalizes immediately, grinding her boot against his leg before locking in a single leg hold, leaning forward to grind against the trapped limb in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with technical wrestling and everything to do with how the Rollerwhores operate. Jay grits his teeth, refusing to tap, and drags himself toward the ropes.


John Blade, seeing his partner in trouble, breaks it up with a diving crossbody onto Elektra before the hold can be fully cinched, and the four of them spill into total chaos, all pairings breaking down into a genuine brawl. John hits Violet with a running bulldog. Jay catches Elektra with a Samoan drop. Violet answers with a superkick to John's jaw that staggers him. Elektra fires back at Jay with a northern lights suplex that gets a two count nobody really registers because the action never stops moving.


JR: This has been back and forth the entire way, nobody's gotten a real foothold for more than thirty seconds.


John Blade hits his Five Knuckle Shuffle on Violet after the big wind up, the crowd doing the wave motions with him, and immediately scoops her up looking for the Death Valley Drop. Before he can plant her, Samael Dyson slides a steel chair into the ring from ringside while the referee's attention is pulled toward Jay and Elektra fighting near the ropes. Elektra, seeing the opening Samael created, grabs the chair and cracks it across John Blade's back mid-lift, and Violet slips free, both Rollerwhores now on their skates while John staggers, the chair shot having done exactly enough damage to change the moment.


JC: Samael Dyson got that chair in without the referee seeing it!


JR: That's exactly the kind of opening these two needed, Jacuinde.


Violet and Elektra position John Blade between them, both skating back toward opposite ropes, and Jay Fetu, still recovering near the corner, can't get there in time. The two Rollerwhores connect with The Big O, the double superkick landing on both sides of John's head with the full weight of steel-laced rollerskates behind it. John drops like a stone, completely out.


Violet and Elektra don't waste the moment. They're up the turnbuckles together, perfectly synchronized, and come down with the G Spot, the double stomp driving both sets of skates into John's chest. Jay Fetu finally reaches the ring just as it happens, too late to break it up, and the referee's count comes down fast.

ONE.







TWO.










THREE.

ROLLERWHORES WIN!

JC: THAT'S IT! The Rollerwhores get the win!


JR: A chair shot Samael Dyson snuck in behind the referee's back is the difference in this one, Jacuinde. As even as that match was, John Blade and Jay Fetu have every right to be furious right now.


Violet and Elektra roll off John Blade and skate back to ringside, where Samael Dyson is already waiting with his arms spread wide in celebration, while Jay Fetu drops to his knees beside his fallen partner, shouting toward the retreating Rollerwhores as they make their exit.

---

Game Girl starts in the ring.

First, 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.

JC: Up next, a singles match that has me a little uneasy if I'm honest. Micheal Graves taking on Game Girl.

JR: Jacuinde, I love Game Girl, everybody in this building loves Game Girl, but she is five foot three, a hundred and twenty two pounds, and she is missing an arm. Graves is two hundred and sixty eight pounds of a man who, by his own design, does not know when to stop hitting somebody.

JC: She's got speed. She's got that combo game. Let's see if it's enough.

‘Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves - vs - Game Girl Singles Match

DING! DING! DING!

The bell rings and Game Girl is moving before Graves has finished cracking his neck, darting in low with a Shift-Slide that takes his legs out from under him and drops the big man flat on his back. The crowd pops hard. She's on him immediately, climbing for the Raging Uppercut, but Graves explodes upward off the canvas with a back elbow that catches her square in the chest and sends her stumbling backward into the ropes.

JR: She had him down! Got caught right out of it.

Graves doesn't wait for her to reset. He's across the ring and drives a hammering forearm into her shoulder that spins her half around, following with a second that puts her on the canvas.

He hauls her up by the back of her tank top and whips her hard into the corner, charging in behind it, but Game Girl gets a boot up at the last second and catches him under the chin. Graves rocks back. She's up on the second rope in an instant, leaping for a Flip Kick that connects clean across his jaw and drops him to one knee.

JC: Game Girl finding the openings early! That combo game is exactly what people come to see!

She presses the advantage, landing two quick punches and a knee strike out of a grapple.

Graves absorbs all three without falling, and on the fourth strike he simply catches her wrist mid-swing. He looks at her for a second.

Then he drives a heart punch into her ribs that folds her completely and drops her gasping to the mat.

JR: That heart punch from Graves and you can see the difference in weight class right there. Game Girl can chain ten moves together but it only takes Graves landing one of his.

Graves picks her up and hits a fallaway slam that throws her across the ring, then follows up with a neckbreaker the instant she tries to rise. He covers, driving his forearm into her face as the referee counts.
ONE.








TWO.









Game Girl kicks out, scrambling immediately to put distance between them, favoring her ribs with her one good arm.

Graves stomps after her without urgency, the calm of a man who knows exactly how this ends. He drops a trapping headbutt that snaps her head back against the canvas, then locks in a Boston crab, sitting deep into it. Game Girl grits her teeth and reaches for the ropes, her single arm stretching as far as it can, fingers grazing the bottom rope. She drags herself the final few inches and the hold is broken.

JC: She got there. Barely, but she got there.

Graves releases without complaint and immediately goes back to work, dragging her up by the hair and driving a backfist across her jaw. He sets her up against the turnbuckle and unloads a series of HEAVY HANDED bitch slaps that rock her head side to side, the crowd groaning with each one. Game Girl's legs go weak beneath her. Graves steps back, satisfied, and charges in with a spear.

Game Girl ducks it.

Graves crashes shoulder-first into the turnbuckle and stumbles back, momentarily stunned, and Game Girl seizes the opening with everything she has left, landing a Kirākikku drive-by kick to the side of his head followed immediately by a Power-Up Punch, the aura building around her one good fist before she drives it into his jaw with a flash of light that pops the crowd to their feet.

JR: POWER UP PUNCH! Graves is rocked!

JC: She might have something here, Joe!

Graves staggers into the ropes, and Game Girl runs at him, looking for the Spear Step. He sidesteps at the last second and catches her with a clothesline that flattens her completely. He doesn't go for the cover right away. He stands over her, jaw working, looking less amused than he did a minute ago. He drags her up by the collar and drives a pulling piledriver straight down, spiking her head into the canvas.

The crowd goes silent.

Graves covers, forearm grinding into her face.

ONE.









TWO.











Game Girl's foot twitches and finds the bottom rope at the absolute last second, the referee's hand stopping inches from the third slap.

JC: SHE GOT THE ROPE! I don't know how, but she got it!

JR: That piledriver should have ended this. She is running on pure heart at this point.

Graves hauls her up, visibly irritated now, and whips her into the far corner. He charges in with a back elbow and this time it connects fully, crushing her against the buckle.

He doesn't relent.

Heart punch.

Backfist.

Another heart punch.

Game Girl's body sags between each blow, held up only by the corner itself and the referee starting to check on her condition.

Graves pulls her out by the arm she doesn't have, catches himself, adjusts his grip to her remaining one, and hits a textbook Inverted DDT that drives her skull into the mat.
He stands over her. He doesn't rush the cover. He drops down, hooks the leg, and grinds his forearm into her cheek as the count starts.


ONE.









TWO.










Her shoulder lifts off the canvas, just barely, the crowd erupting at the sight of it, but it isn't enough and the referee's hand comes down a fraction of a second later than it should have.

JR: I thought that was it. I genuinely thought that was it.

Graves looks almost personally offended that she kicked out. He pulls her up by the hair, one hand, no longer interested in technique, and locks in the sleeper hold from behind, dragging her down to her knees in the center of the ring. Game Girl's good arm flails weakly against his forearm. The referee lifts her arm to check.

It drops.

He lifts it again.

It drops, slower this time.

He lifts it a third time, and for one moment, fueled by whatever stubborn optimism keeps this woman moving forward in every fight she's ever been in, the arm holds steady, trembling, refusing to fall.

JC: SHE'S FIGHTING IT! LOOK AT THAT ARM, IT WON'T GO DOWN!

Graves adjusts his grip, sinking the hold in deeper, and the arm finally drops for good. The referee checks once more to confirm and calls for the bell.

WINNER VIA STOPPAGE - MICHEAL GRAVES!

Graves releases her immediately, letting her slump to the canvas, and stands up over her without a flicker of triumph on his face, just the same flat, unbothered expression he wore walking down the ramp.

JC: The referee's called it. Micheal Graves wins this one by referee stoppage.

JR: She fought, Jacuinde. She fought every single second of that match with one arm and a body that's been through more than anybody in that crowd realizes. But Graves doesn't stop, and tonight that was simply too much for anybody to overcome.

Graves rolls out of the ring without acknowledging the booing crowd, leaving Game Girl motionless on the canvas as the referee and ringside medical staff rush in to check on her.

---

Tig Collins: “Ladies and Gentlemen, This XWF Televison Championship match is scheduled for one fall, with a fifteen minute time limit!!”

Tig Collins: “Making her way to the ring first, the challenger, from this very state… Malibu, California, weighing 160 pounds- KORRRRRVAAYYYYNNNE!!”


Gold Lust by Shattered Dreams plays and Korvayne comes out with her simp. She is appalled by the reaction the fans give her as she heads to the ring. She spends a lot of needless time arguing with the fans. At one point a fan actually throws a beer at her- luckily that shit missed! Eventually she gets in the ring, does her artsy pose, and bows though the fans don't deserve it…

After the boos die down, the camera pans around the sold out Chase center, showing vivid imagery of the audience roaring with anticipation before the Championship match.

Tig Collins: “… and her opponent!”


The arena lighting dims to black. Pink and silver lightning streak across the screen.

"She went bad
Made her pretty little world turn black
Miss perfect never had a chance
Threw a middle finger up
She's heading to hell anyway"

Twin pink sparkly spotlights hit the entryway as Remi skips out from behind the curtains. She pauses at the top of the ramp, tossing her hair over her shoulder, scanning the screaming audience before her. With a smile, she scampers down towards the ring as the spotlights follow.

Once there, she grabs ahold of a post, swinging around it while blowing a kiss to the camera.
She hops up onto the apron and rolls over the top rope. She crosses to the other side, giving a little shimmy dance as she does. She nimbly leaps onto the turnbuckle, lifting both hands over her head and flashing a cocky grin.

The spotlights cut out, the lighting strobing pink and silver before returning to normal as Remi steps down onto the mat.


Tig Collins: “From Wellesley Massachusetts, weighing 117 pounds… She is the reigning and defending, Television Champion- REMINGTOOOONNN STOOOOORRRRM!”


DING!
.
.
DING!!
.
.
DING!!!

[weventr] XWF Television Championship Remi Storm © - vs - Korvayne 15 Minute Time Limit

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: “Here we go! Television Championship on the line! Remington Storm defending against the self-proclaimed masterpiece, Korvayne!”

Joe Rogan: “And fifteen minutes is not a lot of time, man. You can’t feel this out forever. Somebody has to make a statement fast.”

Remington Storm circles the ring with a cocky shimmy, Korvayne on the other hand- does not look amused. Both jolt forward and begin with a collar-and-elbow tie-up, in which Remi immediately slips behind into a waistlock. Korvayne elbows free, hits the ropes, and charges back with a flying forearm—but Remi ducks beneath it, springs off the middle rope, and snaps Korvayne down with a rope-flip arm drag!

Joe Rogan: “This right here is why the champion is the champion.”

Korvayne scrambles up, embarrassed. Remi gives another shimmy. The crowd erupts. Korvayne charges again, more angrily this time, but Remi catches her with a arm drag. Korvayne however rolls back up to her feet, bounces off the ropes and darts back in Storms direction, a well timed clothesline off the rebound now sends Remington tumbling back first to the ring mat.

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: “Now it’s the challenger get the better of the champion this time.”

Joe Rogan: “This is exactly how Korvayne is going to have to bring the fight if she wants this Television Championship!”

Korvayne charges forward as Remi climbs to a knee and does a low dropkick directly into her cheek. Standing to her feet Korvayne mocks Remington and then lifts her to her feet again. Korvayne goes for a knife edge chop, but Remington blocks it off before kicking Korvayne in the mid-section. Remi grabs Korvayne head and stuffs it between her arm drilling her headfirst with a DDT. Rolling Korvayne onto her back, Remi Storm goes for a cover…


ONE!
.
.
TWO—

Korvayne kicks out strongly. Remi rolls away and climbs to her feet. She reaches down and grabs Korvayne by the hair standing her up. Sending Korvayne toward the corner with a Irish whip, Remi follows close behind charging at her. Korvayne however, has it scouted and grabs at the ropes before impact, hoping up onto the middle rope and jumping backward catching Remi in the nose with an elbow…

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: “What a elbow… I bet Remi is seeing stars right now?”

Korvayne wastes no time. She drags Remi up, snaps her over with a suplex, floats through, and hooks the leg…


ONE!
.
.
TWO—


Remi powers through and rolls onto her stomach. Korvayne slaps the mat, already irritated. She stands up and paces for a moment, thinking of her next moveZ

Joe Rogan: “That temper is showing. She’s winning right now, but she’s mad she hasn’t already won. These are things that make or break a competitor ”

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc:: “And against a champion like Remington Storm, frustration can become a fatal flaw. Joe will you please not light that… it stinks!”

Joe Rogan: “What, It’s OG Kush!!”

Korvayne pulls Remi into the corner and unloads with a back rake, then a stinger splash that crushes the champion against the buckles. Remi staggers out, and Korvayne runs up the ropes, launching into a crossbody. It looks as if Korvayne is going to execute another pin here—

But Remi rolls through!


ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.


Korvayne kicks out and pops up in panic- almost losing to the surprise roll through on the cross body. Korvayne darts forward BOOM! Remi catches her with a pump kick!

Korvayne stumbles while Remi rushes forward, looking for a handspring satellite DDT, but Korvayne shoves her off mid-rotation. Remi lands near the ropes, and Korvayne blasts her with the first standing dropkick of Dropkick City!

Remi falls to one knee. Korvayne hits the ropes and drills her with a running dropkick causing Remi to spill backward. Korvayne leaps to the apron, springboards off of it, and lands the springboard dropkick flush in the heart of Storm as she fights to stand!

The crowd boos as Korvayne points to the top rope.

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: “She’s going for the fourth!”

Korvayne climbs, measuring Remi as the champion struggles to stand. She launches with the missile dropkick—

Remi sidesteps!

Korvayne crashes hard onto the mat! Both women are down and exhausted as the clock dips under six minutes.

Remi digs her hands into the mat as she crawls to the ropes pulling herself up. Korvayne rises slower, clutching her lower back. Remi charges, springboards, and wipes her out with a springboard dropkick of her own! Korvayne stumbles back into the ropes and hits them causing her to lunge forward in a state of stagger. Remi grabs Korvayne, hooks her, and snaps her over with an overhead belly-to-belly!

Joe Rogan: “Belly To Belly landed properly by our Television Champion!”

Remi lifts Korvayne to her feet and knife edge chops her into the corner causing Korvayne to yell in pain. It’s at this point that Storm looks outside the ring and points to the Make A Wish Kid in the front row.

Remi slaps Korvayne across the face and then lifts her up onto the top rope. The crowd begins eating up, coming alive for the champion. Taking a couple steps back Remi rushes forward and springs to the middle rope locking her arms around the waist of Korvayne and tosses her sending them both landing to the mat from a top rope belly-to-belly suplex. Remington Storm goes for the pin attempt.


ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.


Korvayne lifts her shoulder with an ever so exhausted kick out. The audience boos loudly as Remi comes to a knee looking around the arena. Standing to her feet, Remi wipes the sweat from her face before lifting Korvayne up.

As she lifts Korvayne, Remi gets raked in the eyes. She stumbles back blind, and it gives Korvayne time reach forward, locking her neck up and twisting her upward. Korvayne then falls to the mat, executing a neck breaker on Remington Storm. Korvayne rolls an exhausted Remi over and hooks the leg…


ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
TH—


Korvayne’s eyes go wide. She grabs the referee by the shirt, screaming that it was three. The official holds up two fingers.

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: “Remington Storm does not want to lose her championship!”

Joe Rogan: “Not here tonight, not in California… That was close. That was real close”

Korvayne turns back toward Remi and signals for Malibu’s Most Wanted. She hooks the head as Remington struggles to stand. Somehow, Remi spins out!

Remi aims for the stars with a Overhead kick- Korvayne gets rocked. Remi ducks behind, lifts- Stormchaser!


ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THR—


Now the resilient display is on the other end as Korvayne kicks out! Remi is stunned as the clock hits two minutes. The arena noise rises as we are coming to a close…

Remi looks toward the top rope. She knows what she has to do. The champion climbs, standing tall above the challenger…

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: “Twisted Tempest incoming! If she hits this, Remington Storm retains!”

Remi climbs to the top rope exhausted and looks around. She becomes distracted tho. Korvayne is laughing on the mat, holding up Remi doll that was created by Little Tommy Ryker, the Make A Wish kid…

Remi hops off the ropes. She tugs the doll from the hands of a defeated Korvayne. Rolling out of the ring, Remi Storm hands Tommy Ryker the doll back. Now it becomes clear.

Remi walks up the apron…

First rope…

Second rope…

Remi is at the top!!

Twisted Tem—

Leonardo’s Lament!!

Joe Rogan: “Holy Shit-balls! You gotta be kidding me, What a counter!!”

The impact bounces the mat so hard that Remi is half stood and staggered, Korvayne grips her by the neck and drives her down headfirst with Malibu’s Most Wanted!!

Korvayne secures the leg…


ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!!!

Winner and NEEEEWWWWWW XWF Television Champion: KORRRRRVAAYYYYNNNE!!

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: Korvayne had a trick up her sleeve and she did it! Korvayne has won the Television Championship here in California!!





Korvayne rises to both knees and laughs looking around the arena, especially locking eyes upon Tommy Ryker, who has tears rolling down his cheeks…


Joe Rogan: “Well, Remington took her eyes off the prize here tonight and she paid for it!”

Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc: “What a wild turn of events… I’m speechless!!”

After a hard fought Television Championship match Korvayne is celebrating. Both competitors are in the ring when suddenly…



JC: It’s that damn Charlie Nickles! He hit Korvayne from behind with a chair!



JR: She was calling him out in her promo this week, Jacuinde! What did you expect?



Charlie stands over Korvayne’s prone body as Remi Storm turns toward him. He raises the chair again, but Remi charges and tackles him. He drops the chair and Remi picks it up.



BAM!



Remi’s head gets nearly separated from her shoulders as Jordan Penn hits her with The Small Print!



JR: The Small Print! She should have read the Small Print. The Blacque Sheep from out of nowhere with that side kick to the head!



JC: Can’t we just have one main event without an attack afterward? I bet that damn Penn is just mad about losing earlier tonight and he’s taking it out on Remi.



Charlie gets to his feet and he kicks the chair over to Jordan, who grabs it. Korvayne is getting up. Charlie sees the Television title, now lying on the mat and picks it up. Wham! Charlie smacks the Television title over Korvayne’s head! Jordan drives the chair into Remi’s ribs. He reaches down and grasps her by the wrist, hauling her to her feet. At the same time, Charlie drags Korvayne to her feet across the ring. They exchange a glance, a sinister smile appearing on each of their faces as they pull back and launch the girls at each other.



WHAM!



Korvayne and Remi crash into one another full force, staggering backwards from the impact before crumpling to the canvas. The Bastards don’t give them a moment. In a flash, Charlie is all over Korvayne, ripping her off the mat and to her feet, holding her as he slams his knee repeatedly into her midsection. Jordan laces into Remi with his boots and she tries to roll away. He stalks her, grabbing her up and tossing her into the corner where he starts alternating forearms. He wraps his fingers in her hair, grabbing a fistful before pulling her out and motioning to Charlie.



Charlie charges forward and flips her inside out with a vicious clothesline. A game Korvayne staggers into the fight, throwing fists at Charlie, managing to land a couple blows, knocking the big man’s head back before being flattened by a spear from Jordan Penn. A nasty two on one beatdown begins, both men laying their boots hard onto Korvayne… when suddenly…



Remi dives back into the fray, grabbing ahold of Jordan! She jumps and spins, twisting her legs around his neck………………!



Only to be snatched off and away by Charlie, into a scoop powerslam, laying both women out once again.



Jordan stomps over to her and picks her up, holding her in the air, yelling to Charlie who does the same to Korvayne. They walk in a circle, before falling back, synchronized release back suplexes leaving Korvayne and Remi in a heap in the center of the ring!

JC: These Bastards are relentless! What they’re doing to Remi and Korvayne is sick and twisted!

JR: Not to mention, cowardly! Korvayne and Remi just put on the best match I’ve seen in months: they emptied their tanks and left it all in the ring: only for these two knuckleheads to come out and take advantage!



The Bastards prowl around their downed prey, watching for any signs of life. Charlie pauses, a sneer appearing on the wild man’s face. He moves to the chair, picking it up and tossing it to Jordan who catches it, before sliding out of the ring. Remi and Korvayne are stirring, each moving slightly. Charlie chases some poor soul sitting ringside out of their chair and comandeers it, snapping it shut before sliding it into the ring.



He swiftly follows, picking it up as he approaches Jordan, who has lit up like a Christmas tree, understanding. They crouch in wait, each holding a chair, watching Remi and Korvayne pull their knees under them. They make it to their knees, then their feet, Korvayne stumbling directly into the line of fire as Penn and Nickles make their move, swinging the chairs full force in unison!



NO! At the last moment, Remi shoulders Korvayne out of the way and eats the conchairto meant for Korvayne!



For a moment Remi remains still, before crashing down onto the mat. Charlie and Jordan turn to Korvayne, who had taken a step towards the fallen Remi, each blasting her with a chair shot, dropping her motionless on her belly. Charlie kicks her over into her back, placing one boot onto her chest, posing with his fist in the air.



Jordan motions for a mic, which is tossed to him, then goes to Remi, stepping over to straddle her prone body. He leans down, patting her cheek with a smirk.



Jordan Penn: Should’ve minded your own business



He stands straight again, resting his boot on top of Remi as he raises the mic back to his lips.



Jordan Penn: Oh, Julia. You wanted Charlie at Bad Medicine? I’ve got some shit news for you. It’s not happening. Why, you ask? Because Charles and I have a date with some worthless circus performers.



JP: That’s right. We’re enacting our mandatory rematch clause for a shot at the XWF Tag Team titles at Bad Medicine! You two can take your WLW lovefest elsewhere. Happy Pride, ladies.

JR: Mandatory rematch clause? Does the tag division have one of those?

JC: I’m 99% sure it does NOT, Joe! Because if it did, then The Exiles would be the #1 contenders!

JR: I think Jordan Penn is just making this stuff up as he goes!

JC: He’s a Bastard, Joe- that’s what they do!

Jordan Penn cocks his head back in laughter, but Charlie’s wearing a deeply serious expression as he rips the microphone out of Jordan’s hand. Then, he leans down close to Korvayne- lifting her head up by her blood-stained hair.

The Nickleman: “I heard you wanted me at Bad Medicine, huh, bitch? That’s cute. It’s cute that you think you get to choose how this goes.

But let me explain something to you, my little angel.

My precious little sweetheart…”

The crowd cringes and looks around in confusion as Charlie speaks so sweetly to the woman he just brutalized.

JC: Where the hell is Charlie going with this…

JR: Well, there’s only one way to find out!

The Nickleman: “You can want me all you want, baby, but you don’t get to choose when you have me.

You see, that’s not how this goes.

That’s never been how it goes.

But whenever I’ve wanted you? I’ve just taken you. I let your blood fill the ring, and I let your screams fill my ears.

Because you, Korvayne?

You’re MINE.

Your body?

Is a temple to the suffering I unleash.

Your pain?

Is a testament to the violence of my indulgence.”

JR: I don’t know what that means, but I don’t like the sounds of it!

Charlie licks his lips as he looks down at Korvayne’s crumpled body.

The Nickleman: “You’re not getting a match with me at Bad Medicine, sweetheart. Not even with that pretty little title around your waist.

But don’t worry…

Because the next time I want to bust you open and break you in-

I’ll just find you.”

But that’s when Big Dick Lichter storms onto the stage with a microphone!

Lichter: "ENOUGH!"

Jordan freezes, visibly annoyed. Charlie snarls.

Lichter grins.

Lichter: "You know... I just heard Jordan Penn say he's not interested in a match against Korvayne or Remi."

He nods thoughtfully.

"And that's exactly why I'm in charge! See, people call me the Trillionaires' Tag Team Specialist."

"I fixed the tag division on Anarchy..."

"And now I'm fixing the one on Warfare!”

Lichter straightens his jacket.

"Because Big Dick Lichter..."

"...is worth two men!"

The crowd chuckles.

"So when you've got Big Dick... two men always end up satisfied."

The arena EXPLODES with laughter.

Lichter doesn't notice.

"What?"

"It's Pride! I'm being inclusive!"

A deafening "PAUSE!" chant breaks out.

Lichter rolls his eyes.

"Now, Charlie... Jordan... don't look so disappointed."

"You two will get your rematch against Clowns R Us at Bad Medicine..."

Charlie smirks.

Jordan nods confidently.

Lichter raises one finger.

"But these people..."

He motions to the crowd.

"...don't just want to see Charlie and Jordan versus Clowns R Us…because I mean, honestly, who even wanted to see that match the first time?"

The crowd starts buzzing.

"Instead, they want to see what happens when Korvayne and Remi finally get their hands on you two Bastards!"

A louder reaction.

"So why should I make a choice..."

"...when I can give everyone EVERYTHING?"

The crowd starts to realize where this is going.

"At Bad Medicine..."

"...the XWF Tag Team Championships will be defended in a..."

He pauses.

"THREE-TEAM!"

"TABLES!"

"LADDERS!"

"AND CHAIRS MATCH!"

"THE BROTHERHOOD OF BASTARDS..."

"CLOWNS R US..."

"AND KORVAYNE & REMI!"

"WINNERS TAKE ALL!"

The arena absolutely ERUPTS!

The crowd is on its feet!

Charlie Nickles' eyes go wide!

Jordan Penn mouths, "What?!"

Korvayne and Remi, still lying on the mat, stare at each other in disbelief before huge smiles spread across their faces.

Lichter simply smiles.

"Congratulations, gentlemen."

"I just fixed ANOTHER tag division!"

Lichter bursts into maniacal laughter as the crowd pops the roof off the building! The camera lingers on all three teams, each processing the bombshell announcement as the crowd roars.

JR: Oh my God! ‘Big’ Dick Lichter just took control of Warfare’s tag division: and he’s already pushing his weight around!

JC: Lichter just booked an INSANE match for Bad Medicine! And it seems like The Brotherhood of Bastards want NO PART of Korvayne and Remi in a fair fight!

JR: I’m getting word from the production truck that we’re already over time- but my goodness Jacuinde, there’s still so much more to talk about!

JC: Bad Medicine is right around the corner Joe, and that means the time for talking is through! Tune in on JULY 19TH to see how this story unfolds!

THANKS TO OUR MATCH WRITERS Peter Principle Atticus Gold Judd Hollow OUR SEGMENT WRITERS Judd Hollow Sebastian Everettt-Bryce Micheal Graves Korvayne Remi Storm Jordan Penn AND EVERYONE WHO RP’D!