THE KING'S TOURNEY
A gaming tournament to commemorate the release of XWF: March Madness 2025!
OPEN CALL - ANYONE CAN COMPETE (1 RP/300 words - Roleplay as if your character is a video game character competing in a tournament with the fate of the world at stake!)
Kieran King
- vs -
'The Man Responsible For Ruining Everything' Singles
Mister Oz
- vs -
John Blade and Deena Hixx Handicap Match
1 RP/ 1k
Game Girl
- vs -
Bobby Sales WALL STREET KID MATCH
Both Competitors start with something small and inexpensive! They must barter and trade up in value... with the ring crew, with the crowd, with other XWF talent, WHOEVER! After five minutes, the winner is whoever has traded up to the most valuable item!
Korvayne
- vs -
Schadenfreude Clown X-Treme Rules
Rowan Vance
- vs -
Ennui Clown Singles
#1 Contender to the TV Title
Yelena Gorgo
- vs -
Solomon Kline 15 Minute Time Limit
Ostrenhiensburg Chapel
SEMI FINAL
Scoops McGee
- vs -
Dickie Watson One Fall
Victory can be obtained by Pinfall, Submission, KO, or Ring-Out!
Right before the XWF technicians can set off the opening pyro, the newest roster member Kentucky Taggart storms out onto the entrance ramps with a podium in his hands!
He slams the podium down and storms to the side of the ramp, demanding a microphone from a tech.
He gets the stick and screams into it,
”LISTEN UP now! Ol’ Tuck Taggart ain’t goin’ nowhere no-how until some unlucky bastard steps up to this table and takes a LICKIN’ from the hand of GOD! I done called out everybody and ain’t-a-one of ‘em had the stones to sign up before the big day… so now Kentucky’s bringin’ the fun right to their door!”
Tuck stands at the podium with his hands at his hips for a moment, but no one arrives. He grabs the mic again.
”No one? Not Thias Watts? Not Mister Oz? Not Mark Flynn or Charlie Nickles or Loverboy PUSSY Lane? Ain’t there a set of testicles back in that dressing room anywheres?”
Tuck tosses the mic on the ground and starts taking practice slaps in the air, shadow slapping an invisible opponent.
All of a sudden, the X-Tron dreams to life with…
And out from the back comes THE ZUCK!
Zuck goes a few kata poses while his best buddies Joe Rogan and Elon Musk stand by his side and cheer him on (Jeff Bezos is busy buying another newspaper.)
Zuck: “Hey baby! Ain’t no THANG for a real G like the Z-U-C to come on out here and slap you right in the Facebook!”
Zuck lines up on one side of the podium and Tuck shrugs and stands at the other.
Tuck and Zuck stare each other down, and then Kentucky motions for Mark Z to go first. The Zuck grins.[
”It’s your funeral, fam! HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-YAH!!!”
Zuck swings a precise knife-edge slap into the face of Tuck Taggart… who barely reacts. Zuck looks a little confused.
”My turn, pretty boy!”
And then Tuck cracks his knuckles and reaches back like he’s about to throw a 100 mile per hour fastball… and he nails Zuckerberg!
▶OH SHIT LISTEN TO THAT IMPACT!
Zuckerberg got hit so hard that it changed Elon Musk’s haircut!
Finally satisfied, Taggart steps over the drooling and unconscious body of Zuck while his two rich asshole friends try to scoop up the bits of eardrum that have started leaking from his head.
The show can finally begin!
March Madness VII hits the air as fireworks explode across Barcelona, Spain framing Basílica de la Sagrada Familia in a kaleidoscope of explosive colour!
The camera pans down, past the scaffolding around the unfinished cathedral and then it fades out as it comes to the building, transitioning to ringside inside the cathedral itself, where Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc and Joe Rogan are sitting!
JC: Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the final night of the eighth annual XWF March Madness tournament! We started at 24 competitors, and now we are down to the final four! The winner will walk out not only as the 2026 King of the XWF, but for the first time ever—the winner will also be taking home the Universal Championship! This card is loaded, my friends! In addition to the tournament, EVERY TITLE IS ON THE LINE! And we’ve got some huge matches lined up. My name is Jacuinde, and I’m joined here inside this INCREDIBLE cathedral by none other than Joe Rogan!
JR: It is great to be here, Jac! It’s crazy what we’ve been able to accomplish with the cash injection that Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and Da Zucc have put into the XWF. This thing isn’t even finished yet, but here we are running the biggest tournament in professional wrestling inside it!
JC: Let’s break down what we’re going to see tonight. In terms of title matches, what’s got your eye, Joe?
JR: It’s hard to look past XWF Legend Centurion tonight. He’s not even in the tournament anymore, and yet he’s still pulling double duty here! What happens if he can bet both Matthias Syn and Miss Furry? Does he get to keep both the TV and Anarchy titles? We’ll find out soon enough!
JC: The story is still to be told there, but do you know where it’s already been told? In the Tag Team title scene! For the better part of a year, Sebastian Everett-Bryce and Isaiah King have been at each others’ throats, while simultaneously holding onto the XWF Tag Team titles! But after Snow Pain Snow Gain, where they finally settled on the respect they had for one another, it’s time for them to put up or shut up! For the first time in over four months, the tag team titles will be on the line in an actual tag team match! And I can’t believe that’s a real sentence! The Exiles vs. Charlie Nickles and The Director, representing B.o.B.! Can The Exiles finally move on as champs? Or can B.o.B. break their stranglehold on the division?
JR: There’s so much to love and look forward to! Betsy Granger looks to claim the Revolution title, Jenny Myst tries to take back the X-Treme title, and of course… a NEW KING GUARANTEED!
JC: That’s right! By the time this night ends, Kieran King—the man who has won back-to-back tournaments and walked into this year’s edition as not just the reigning King of the XWF, but also the reigning Universal Champion—will no longer wear the crown! Because he’s already out of the tournament before the final stretch! “The Dark Warrior” Micheal Graves has broken over 20 years of bad luck and claimed the Universal Title! But if he wants to get through the night still as champion, he’ll have to get past newcomer extraordinaire Asher Hayes!
JR: And not just Asher! Because whomever wins that match WILL be the Universal Champion, but they’ll have to turn around and defend it in tonight’s MAIN EVENT against the winner of the other side of the bracket: Dickie Watson vs. Scoops McGee! The House of Hardcore implodes! But only one man is walking out of tonight as King of the Universe!
JC: And to wet your appetite, we’re heading up to the stage for a little tournament of our own! In ‘honour’ of his reign, Kieran King is hosting The King’s Tourney, and we’re celebrating the launch of March Madness 26 in the process! Available now on PC and all consoles that are worth a damn! Let’s go up to the stage!
THE KING'S TOURNEY
A gaming tournament to commemorate the release of XWF: March Madness 2025!
OPEN CALL - ANYONE CAN COMPETE (1 RP/300 words - Roleplay as if your character is a video game character competing in a tournament with the fate of the world at stake!)
Screens, chairs and consoles are set up across the stage in preparation for The King’s Tourney. Kingsguard scurrying about guarding kingly stuff and whatnot, but The King himself is nowhere to be found!
JC: Kieran?
Jacuinde’s follow-up over the headpiece still leads to no response.
JC: Uh… is there someone up there?
A clumsy scramble is heard and suddenly a voice breaks through.
???: Hello? Yeah, um, I’m here. We might have a problem though.
The camera eventually finds the person speaking.
It’s one of the Kingsguard!
Kingsguard: Hi… yeah… umm… I'm Sam. Or, I guess, I'm like Kingsguard #64 or something. So… King Kieran isn't coming out to host. I umm… I think he's here? He's spent a lot of time this week talking about his match. Actually… he's spent a lot of time talking this week, period.
But uh… he told me that I needed to come out here and “make my mama proud or else’s he’d find out where she lives and the stuff they'd do together would make me whatever the opposite of proud is.”
I don't want him to fuck my mama, guys. She has a heart condition. So… I guess I'm your host or something.
Welcome!
Let me come on down here now and fire one of these machines up so we can get this party started.
Kingsguard #64 turns on an XWF-Branded Gaming System and the image bleeds into what the camera is shooting.
Instead of seeing the staging in Sagrada Familia, the shot now shows the game loading up, and the opening intro plays.
A voice over starts over a black screen.
“Transcending history and the world, a tale of souls and swords, eternally retold.™”
The video shows a shot of a castle, and the sounds of heavy breathing in the background.
Quickly it cuts to feet running through the forest, the castle looming in the background. The heavy breathing belongs to the character on the screen.
Suddenly, the character is knocked over.
The camera pans up…
An armoured man approaches, not unlike the nerdiest S.W.A.T. team member ever seen.
Kingsguard #64: Hey! Is that supposed to be me?
A menu box appears on the screen.
Combat Tutorial.
This is a generic training dummy.
Kingsguard #64: Well that's rude…
Learn to the basics against it while it barely fights back.
After all, it doesn't even know who you are.
…
Umm… who are you?
The scene loads to a character selection screen.
The roster of available XWF members is astronomically large—1000+ characters featuring everyone from Steve Jason to Robot Steve Jason!
The character selection quickly flicks through them all.
Kingsguard #64: Wait… I'm not doing this!
The screen flickers.
CHEAT CODE ACCEPTED.
NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED.
A new character appears on the screen.
“IF YA FOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOW! WHAT THE GROK! IS! REASONING!”
ROUND 1
Nameless Kingsguard Good
- vs -
Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson
Kingsguard #64: I have a name! And where the heck did The Grok come from?
The Grok's voice joins the chat.
The Grok: Well I'll tell you this, The Grok and Mama Kingsguard checked into The Smackdown Hotel and The Grok found out just how much she likes strudel!
Kingsguard #64: Gross…
FIGHT!
Press A to to punch.
The Grok punches Kingsguard #64, whose health drops.
Press X to kick.
The Grok kicks Kingsguard #64.
Kingsguard #64: …Do I get to attack sometime soon?
He does not.
The Grok runs through all of the basic moves and as Kingsguard #64 stands groggily with little health, a prompt flashes on the screen for The Grok to press both joysticks down.
Grok Bottom!
K.O.
Eliminated: Kingsguard #64
Kingsguard #64: I wasn't even in the game!
The screen shows an image of The Grok moving up a ladder to face the next opponent.
ROUND 2
Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson
- vs -
The Atomic Bat
The scene is a dark castle.
The Grok steps towards the gate but suddenly a shadow swoops over him.
A figure lands before Grok and the entrance into the castle.
The Atomic Bat: Where evil goes, so too does The Atomic Bat! —To stop it of course, just to clarify.
The Grok extends a hand and motions The Bat forward.
The Grok: Of course, you're so great for thinking that. Just bring it.
The Bat is confused.
The Atomic Bat: That's a really weird response.
The Grok: You're right. Thanks for the prompt.
The Atomic Bat: Umm… stupid GPTs…
FIGHT!
The scene shifts to a fight!
The Grok's hits are slow and methodical and The Atomic Bat flies around above him, just out of reach.
The Atomic Bat: So cool that they managed to make someone be able to fly in a wrestling game.
I know, right? We should have more aerial fights in the XWF.
Anywho, Grok gets a couple of powerful strikes in but The Bat is just way better at dodging and striking quickly.
And then she did a backflip, snapped the bad guy's neck and saved the day.
K.O.
Eliminated: Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson
The Atomic Bat strikes a pose before disappearing into a puff of smoke.
The ladder screen then returns as The Atomic Bat moves up to the next level.
ROUND 3
The Atomic Bat
- vs -
EDWARD
Inside the castle courtyard, EDWARD flips in from a jungle vine that mathematically has nothing to stick to.
The Atomic Bat swoops in again.
The Atomic Bat: Stop right there, ne'er do well!
EDWARD: EDWINA TAKEN. MUST SAVE OR EDWARD WORLD GONE.
The shriek of a girl at the top of the castle can be heard and seen.
The Atomic Bat: A maiden is in trouble? Looks like this is a job for—
FIGHT!
EDWARD: EDWARD SMASH!
The Atomic Bat: Wait, dude, no, I'll help you save the gir—
EDWARD snatches The Bat and begins to rag doll her just like Hulk did to Loki in the first Avengers movie.
His hits do a lot of damage, not unlike The Grok. But EDWARD moves much quicker. Before The Atomic Bat has even landed a blow, she's down to half health!
So she takes to the air.
But EDWARD activates a special ability and begins swinging from magical ropes in the air like he's Spider-Man.
…A lot of Marvel references in this one, which is odd given that there's a bat-themed character.
Anyway, this fight is super awesome because it's finally a version of the aerial combat that I had been wishing for in the previous match. Everyone does a great job but eventually The Atomic Bat does a backflip, snaps the good(?) guy's neck and saves the day.
K.O.
Eliminated: EDWARD
The Atomic Bat looks down at EDWARD'S body.
The Atomic Bat: I'll save your maiden, noble warrior.
And the ladder screen returns, moving The Atomic Bat higher up.
ROUND 4
The Atomic Bat
- vs -
Remi Storm
The Atomic Bat flies in once more and lands in a grand hall inside the castle.
The Atomic Bat: Hello? Is there a damsel in distress here somewhere?
Remi Storm enters the picture with a sick set of armour and a bad ass sword.
Remi Storm: I don't know about distress, but I’m the only damsel around here.
The Atomic Bat: Oh… umm… there was a weird guy outside who told me a girl in here was in trouble. Did you happen to hear anyone scream a few minutes ago?
Remi Storm: Oh yeah, that was me.
The Atomic Bat: …Are you okay?
Remi Storm: Oh yeah, I'm great. I just looked out the window and saw a caveman and a vampire fighting. It kind of gave me a fright, you know?
The Atomic Bat: That is alarmingly logical. Hence the sword?
Remi Storm: Hence the sword.
FIGHT!
Remi Storm: Wait, what?
The Atomic Bat: Umm… I think I have to beat you up now. Sorry.
The Bat takes to the air again.
Remi Storm wields her blade.
This fight is long and brutal. Two warriors collide and the momentum swings in each other’s direction repeatedly throughout.
When both fighters wind up low on health, one low could knock the other out at any moment!
The Atomic Bat reaches deep.
She does a backflip!
And she snaps—
No! Remi Storm drives her sword through the Atomic Bat’s abdomen!
Blood spurts everyone! Lots and lots of blood! Copious amounts! More than could reasonably fit inside a human body!
And The Atomic Bat falls to the ground.
K.O.
Eliminated: The Atomic Bat
Remi Storm strikes a pose of her own, and soon her picture moves to the top of the ladder!
From the chat function in the game, the REAL Remi Storm can be heard.
Remi Storm: It's wild that I'm even in the game when I haven't even debuted yet!
But let's not worry about technicalities. Remj has other things to worry about!
Another voice joins the chat.
???: Oh awesome, I'm already at the final level.
Remi Storm: What? Who is this?
???: Get off the game, you n00b, I'm taking over your playthrough from here.
Remi Storm: Umm… how about no.
???: How about, I'm your boss so get off if you ever want to debut at all?
The camera moves away from the game, and there, sitting in one of the booths on the stage, is Elon Musk!
Elon Musk: I'm so fucking good at gaming.
As Elon hypes himself up, Remi Storm tries to stay on, but suddenly her screen goes completely black!
The Grok emerges from the shadows, holding the disconnected cable from Remi's game!
Remi Storm: You sonofabitch…
But it doesn't matter!
The final round is set!
FINAL ROUND
Elon Musk playing as Remi Storm
- vs -
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing
The camera opens to the top of the castle.
The Remi Storm avatar that Elon Musk is playing as steps into a room aglow with light.
In the middle is an orb of untold power.
Whoever can claim the orb, claims its strength!
Elon Musk: Oh yeah, I'm so fucking good at gaming. Look how far I got all by myself.
Across the room, Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing steps forward to meet Elon as Remi.
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing: And now it's time for my greatest production!
FIGHT
Both characters just stand there…
Elon Musk: Okay now… which button is punch?
Elon presses a button and his Remi Storm fighter crouches.
Elon Musk: Oh yeah! I'm so good at this!
He presses another button.
Remi jumps.
Elon Musk: TAKE THAT!
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing continues to stand motionless.
Elon Musk: Okay… now for my power-up special!
As Elon button mashes, it is very clear he has no idea what he's doing.
‘Remi Storm’ powers up anyway!
And…
And…
AND…
…
HARA-KIRI!
She runs her own awesome sword through her abdomen, spurting out blood in the process.
Sir Lionel hasn't even moved and yet…
Winner: Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing
The camera cuts away from the game. It searches across the stage for where Lionel Pennyfarthing is standing with a controller in his own hands staring at the screen. He is surrounded by ancient Atari controllers and…absolutely no people playing them.
Kingsguard #64—still a little bitter about being the game's training dummy—approaches.
Kingsguard #64: Umm… Sir Lionel, inexplicably… you won! What were you doing here?
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing: SHUT UP AND PICK UP THE CONTROLLER!
Kingsguard #64 goes to oblige, reaching for one of the Atari controllers to seemingly control Pennyfarthing to play a game he's already won! Suddenly, he pulls his hand back. Putting his hand to his earpiece, the guardsman starts motioning desperately at the rest of the guard.
Kingsguard #64: He's coming.
Eyes widen around the tournament area and Sir Lionel is shuffled out of the way as the Kingsguard fall into formation. And then…
JC: FINALLY! ‘The King’ decides to ‘grace’ us with his presence!
JR: Being a king has got to be a busy job, Jac.
JC: Well then fortunately for him—and us—after tonight, ‘King Kieran's’ schedule is going to be wide open!
Faith No More's “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” heralds the (late) arrival of King(?) Kieran King.
The Kingsguard act as a solid wall, separating King from the crowd, whom he doesn't even bother sneering at. Quite uncharacteristically, he ignores the crowd all together—no taunting, no obscene jesters, no real acknowledgement of their existence at all.
Kieran King focuses on the ring.
When he climbs inside, the Kingsguard shift position, encircling the ring and again providing a wall between their leader and the crowd.
Kieran paces apprehensively.
Kieran King: Don't buy that game…
He points to the eGame set up on the stage that had just hosted The King’s Tourney.
Kieran King: It’s got malware loaded in that's going to spy on you.
The crowd responds with an awkward silence.
Kieran King: Hey, don't blame me for all of the weird shit you've been jerking off to. I'm just looking out for you against the Trillionaire Triumvirate, just like I've been looking out for this entire company.
Not that they would care though.
You know, I've heard people criticise me for the way I've conducted myself, but there's no ‘right' way to fight back when someone has spent MONTHS trying to put their boot on your throat. Let's not forget that Elon Musk and his buddies have been CONSPIRING against me since before Relentless!
A three-way at Relentless—unfair!
War Games—unfair!
A four-way at Snow Pain Snow Gain—unfair!
March Madness—unfair!
I have been screwed over more than anyone! So I fought back! Through the Kingsguard, I fought back! Through boots-to-asses, I fought back!
Not that you would care though.
The only interaction you all want with boots is giving them a good lick and taking what you're given.
I'm different though. I don't wait to be told what I can get—I take it!
Four times they tried to screw me and yet half of those times I STILL walked out with the Universal Championship.
And I will get MY championship back.
More importantly… I will get my crown back.
Because you all know that I'm scheduled to compete tonight. But you might not know that you're going to be seeing me twice.
Here's a spoiler for how tonight is going to end: Two competitors will enter the Lost Cathedral—maybe three or four even, I know how that particular brand of bullshit plays out first hand! It doesn't matter what combination of Graves, Hayes, Watson or McGee it is… because there's another body that will be there too.
I'm going to follow them.
I'm going to drag each and every one of them into Nightmare's realm.
And I'm going to make sure that fight ends with two bodies dropping at the exact same time.
Double KO.
And as seen with Graves and Sam Dyson in round one… that means nobody wins! That means they fight again! And then… I'll be there once more.
Every single time, I will be there.
And I will NEVER let another King be crowned!
Because what happened to me was an injustice, and as the KING OF THE UNION, I am BOUND to right these sorts of employment issues.
So I will.
Those fuckers will pay their union fees in blood.
But not before I deal with another employment issue.
Because the injustice wrought upon me is of a magnitude heretofore unseen in the 27 years the XWF has been in existence!
So in addition to PROTECTING the integrity of the crown, I'm going to
a) Sue the shit out of the Trillionaire Triumvirate.
And b) Hold the man responsible for ruining everything to account RIGHT NOW!
Because EVERYBODY knows that there is NO WAY a miserable fuck like Micheal Graves could EVER have beaten THE GREATEST WRESTLER ALIVE without help!
And quite frankly… I've tolerated a certain miserable fuck getting involved in my business for far too long.
Warfare… you fucked me over.
Snow Pain Snow Gain… you fucked me over.
The insults to my KINGLINESS have gone on for far too long!
So, you decrepit fuck, you know the match has been booked! Let's see if you've got the balls to show up!
Kieran King throws the microphone to the ground and starts barking orders to his Kingsguard.
The camera hones in on the entrance and the pathway the Kingsguard have made there for someone to enter.
JC: Kieran King has become unhinged here tonight!
JR: He's not taking being knocked out of the March Madness tournament well, that's for sure.
JC: And what's he doing now? A distraction from ALIAS helped lead to his elimination so is he now calling ALIAS out? Is that who ‘The Man Responsible for Ruining Everything’ us?
JR: I think so! Kieran King has got to be careful here though, because ALIAS can strike from anywhere though, especially through the crowd. Or one of those interdimensional portals he loves to use!
But… nothing happens.
The crowd grows restless and Kieran finally allows himself to react to them, with a snigger.
Kieran King: Kingsguard! Bring out The Man Responsible for Ruining Everything!
At his command, a few of the Kingsguard head backstage.
Moments later, they drag out a battered body.
It's TOMMY GUNN!
Kieran King continues his tirade as his men drag their supposed captain down to the ramp towards the ring.
Kieran King: Tommy, Tommy, Tommy… let's be honest here. You've always been a stain on what I've been trying to achieve. But you were useful! Because of your role as Head of Security, you gave the Kingsguard a level of legitimacy in an official sense. But in the ring where it counts? You were always a barrier rather than a boon.
YOU, Tommy Gunn, lost the Anarchy Tag Team titles for The Kingsguard at Snow Pain Snow Gain.
YOU, Tommy Gunn, allowed the crowd to rush the ring and almost trample me to death after War Games.
YOU, Tommy Gunn, couldn't hold off ONE MAN long enough at Warfare for me to do what I do best.
You are an ineffective captain and an even more incompetent wrestler.
You had one job! But because you couldn't do that…
You are the man who is responsible for ruining everything.
Tommy… you're fired.
Men… roll him in the ring and ring the goddamn bell.
The Kingsguard obliges, shoving the limp body of Tommy Gunn under the ropes.
JC: Tommy Gunn already can't even stand up! How can anyone even ring the bell like this?
The Kingsguard can.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Kieran King
- vs - 'The Man Responsible For Ruining Everything'
Tommy Gunn Singles
A referee slides into the ring as Kieran King circles the fallen Tommy Gunn who groans and writhes on the ground.
JC: This is insane! How is this a fair fight?
JR: All is fair in love and war!
JC: Where's the love in this? Tommy was Kieran’s right hand man!
JR: I believe this would be the war part of that phrase.
Given Gunn has no chance of standing up, King shoots in and drags the man to his feet.
Gunn hangs onto King for balance, who mocks the former Captain of the Kingsguard.
Before King can even do anything, Gunn falls to the ground all by himself.
King just laughs further.
JC: This is abhorrent!
King circles again, but instead of picking Gunn up, he darts in and stomps on Tommy's hand. Gunn jerks away, only for King to stomp on his ankle instead.
The process repeats over and over. Every time that Gunn tries to find a safe place, King stalks him and strikes—stomping limbs, appendages and joints alike. Whatever Gunn, in his groggy and defenceless state, leaves exposed, King crushes under his boot.
Gunn keeps trying to find safety.
But there is no safety in the ring.
Cowering in the corner under the bottom turnbuckle at least cuts off some lines of attack. But it's not enough. Kieran King just uses the ropes for leverage to swing more power behind his next boot which connects firmly into Gunn's face.
JC: This isn't a match, it's assault!
JR: Call security, then! But you can't, because they're surrounding the ring right now allowing this to happen to their own boss!
King, whose advantage is often in his speed and creative interpretation of the rules, is much slower and methodical as he bullies Tommy Gunn.
He drops down and blatantly chokes Gunn, and even though the ref admonishes him for it, the looming presence of the Kingsguard cautions him against taking more decisive action.
King backs away on his own terms. But Gunn doesn't move from the corner.
King then rockets forward and slides along the ground with a basement dropkick right to Gunn’s nether region!
JC: Do your job, ref! Disqualify Kieran King!
JR: Why?
JC: Because this is despicable conduct!
JR: Let's not all of a sudden pretend Tommy Gunn is some victim here. He supported everything Kieran King has done, but now the leopard he backed is eating his face.
Kieran King drags Gunn out of the corner by the foot. He circles Tommy again, stomping as he goes. Eventually he drapes his knee over Gunn's neck, choking him again while motioning for the referee to count.
The referee does what he's told.
1!
2!
Kieran King gets off Tommy just before the ref's hand hits for the third time.
JC: What?!
JR: I think ‘King’ Kieran is toying with his former ‘Captain’!
Nonchalantly, King grinds his boot over Gunn's head. The referee pleads with him to get this match over with.
JC: Finally the ref is at least doing something—as small as it may be.
You can see King mouth ‘Fine’ in response, as he drags Gunn, slowly, to his feet once more. He hooks Gunn's arm over his head and snaps him into the air!
F UR HEAD!
The brainbuster drops Tommy Gunn to the mat and he stops writhing all together.
King covers again.
JC: Mercifully, this is finally over!
1!
2!
NO! KING PULLS GUNN UP AGAIN!
JC: Oh for crying out loud!
The boos throughout the crowd start getting louder and louder.
JR: Somehow, Kieran King has managed to make that asshole Tommy Gunn a sympathetic figure here in Barcelona!
King smiles and eggs the XWF faithful on.
He pulls Gunn up once more, and has to use his whole body to even prop the security chief up.
Deftly, he snaps him up again…
A second F Ur Head!
King doesn't even bother to cover this time.
He pulls Gunn back up and hits him with a third consecutive brainbuster!
Tommy Gunn is completely motionless. But still Kieran King is not done!
Even The Kingsguard at ringside seem to be growing uncomfortable as King barks an order to one of them to fetch him a chair.
They're reluctant at first, but when King orders them to comply a second time, they do so.
King takes the chair and opens it up, sitting it not far from the corner of the ring.
He drags Tommy Gunn towards it…
But the referee sits down in the chair!
King can't use it!
JC: Yes!!!!!! Fight the man!
King looks enraged. He grabs the referee by the shirt, who tells him if he uses the chair he'll disqualify King!
JC: Finally we're returning to a rules-based order! WAITAMINUTE…!
UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE!
King hits the referee with his patented Codebreaker!
He then demands one of his Kingsguard take the ref's shirt!
Turning back towards Tommy Gunn, he forces Gunn to the top rope!
AVALANCHE F UR HEAD THROUGH A CHAIR!
JC: OH MY GOD!
JR: TOMMY GUNN MIGHT BE DEAD!
Kieran King sits on top of Tommy Gunn as his Kingsguard-turned-referee counts.
1!
2!
3!
Winner: Kieran King
With a giant grin on his face, Kieran King allows his Kingsguard referee to raise his hand.
Suddenly, he spins around and darts straight back to Tommy Gunn!
He begins stomping away and Gunn can do absolutely nothing to cover up and protect himself.
JC: Stop this! The match is over! You've made your point Kieran!
King does stop.
But he has a different point he wants to make.
He turns to this enforcer-turned-referee… and now he's ordering the Kingsguard to attack Gunn!
JC: Why such brutality?!
JR: I think it's safe to say that Kieran King has lost the plot here. Being knocked out of the March Madness tournament has loosened a few screws in the back-to-back King of the XWF.
The Kingsguard member dressed as a ref hesitates. He points to Tommy Gunn as if to demonstrate that he’s already destroyed.
King shoves the Kingsguard member!
He's still ordering him to attack Gunn!
But the Kingsguard is still unsure!
Kieran spins around to the rest of the Kingsguard at ringside and tells them all to get in the ring to attack Tommy Gunn.
JR: He's really trying to get his men to turn on their leader!
A few climb up to the ring apron. Some even get into the ring.
It's all too slow for King.
He screams in the face of his ‘referee’, who steps back just out of instinct.
Kieran King takes that as if he's refusing to follow orders…
UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE from Kieran King to one of his own Kingsguard!
JR: Whoa! Out of nowhere! Nobody is safe!
JC: If this isn't a sign to the rest of Kieran's thugs, I don't know what is! The ruling class are not your allies!
Like a wild man he bounces back to his feet and continues telling the rest of the Kingsguard to attack Tommy Gunn. But seeing their colleague go down now too, they all step backwards again.
Bodies drop from the ring apron.
One last Kingsguard remains in the ring.
Kieran King tells him one last time to lay into Tommy Gunn.
He shoved the Kingsguard.
And the Kingsguard shoves back!
The crowd explodes!
But then… UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE!
Another Kingsguard member goes down at the hands of the king they're supposed to protect!
The remaining Kingsguard at ringside all freeze.
Suddenly, they start to leave!
One-by-one the Kingsguard walk out on Kieran King, even reaching into the ring to pull their fallen comrades out and take them with then.
JC: THE KINGSGUARD ARE WALKING OUT ON KIERAN KING!
JR: Look! They're even taking Tommy Gunn with them!
Kieran storms to near where the announcers are sitting and grabs a microphone.
Kieran King: Fine! Have it your way!
He slides back in the ring as the Kingsguard head up the ramp. Nobody looks back at their ‘leader’.
Kieran King: You think I need you LOSERS? I won MY crown TWICE without you!
I did that by myself!
I did that in spite of everyone and their dog trying to take a pound of flesh out of me!
I'm not just the greatest wrestler alive—I’m the greatest SURVIVOR that the XWF has ever seen! I am what will remain when even cockroaches are wiped from this earth!
I ALWAYS FIND A WAY!
The last of the Kingsguard vanished backstage but by now, King barely even notices. He just continues raving.
Kieran King: Tonight… I’m not leaving without my crown!
I WILL RUIN EVERYTHING! I WILL RUIN EVERYONE!
ONE-ON-ONE NOBODY CAN STOP ME!
The crowd’s jeers rise again, seeing an opportunity to get under King’s skin.
Kieran King: What, YOU think YOU can stop me?
The crowd isn’t chanting for themselves, though. Another name finds its way past their lips.
Kieran King: SHUT UP!
They don't listen to him. Instead the entire audience begins to chant one name in unison:
“AAAAAALIAS… AAAAAALIAS!”
JR: I don't think this crowd quite agrees about whether anyone can stop Kieran King.
JC: They want ALIAS!
King motions for the crowd to jerk off.
Kieran King: Newsflash, IDIOTS! THAT BITCH ISN'T HERE!
THAT BITCH DOESN'T CARE ABOUT YOU!
THAT BITCH HASN'T EVEN SHOW UP TO WORK IN YEARS!
Go ahead and cheer for the guy who would rather be OBSESSED with ME than spend one fucking second near any of you!
Yeah that's right. The truth behind that dad sack is that FOR YEARS he's dogged me, but it's always just been smoke and mirrors; always about a flashy display of fire but never any substance; always about always-stupid, always-cryptic mind games!
Let's say his fucking name!
ALIAS!
ALIAS isn’t a goddamn prophet! ALIAS isn't a goddamn messiah! ALIAS isn't fucking Space Jesus. He's just a burnt-out, charred-up, discarded piece of trash that leaves nothing but ashes, toxicity and LUNG CANCER in his wake!
You want me to fight ALIAS, huh?!
The crowd roars in approval at the suggestion.
Kieran King: Fine! Here's his fucking chance! I don't need ANY help to beat anybody! If that piece of shit can grow a sack and get his ass out here, I’ll CRUSH him RIGHT NOW!
I AM THE GREATEST WRESTLER ALIVE!
I AM 2025’S STAR OF THE YEAR!
I AM THE KING OF THE XWF!
I AM THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNION!
I CAN CRUSH ANYONE THAT WALKS THROUGH THAT CURT—!
ODE.
The first note doesn’t hit clean. It’s a low, almost distorted hum. Bleeding into the arena before the orchestra fully swells.
The lights in the arena flicker:
Once.
Twice.
Then–
BLACK
TO.
The hard cam shakes, not from the production crew, but from the crowd.
A ripple.
The people aren’t cheering yet. They’re stirring into realisation.
A wave of sound builds, it’s uneven at first–
Confused.
Incredulous.
And then it hits everyone all at once.
JOY.
The full orchestral blast.
The X-Tron doesn’t show a graphic.
No name.
Just a brilliant white light.
Almost blinding.
JR: …no… no, that’s not-
JC: It can’t be…
The camera cuts to Kieran King
And for the first time all night, he’s not shouting. He’s not pacing. He’s not posturing.
He’s frozen.
His jaw tightens.
King shakes his head.
Laughs it off.
Points at the stage, like he’s calling a bluff
Kieran King: No. No no no–don’t you fucking dare–
The crowd erupts with something louder than cheers.
Something primal.
Like they’ve just seen a ghost walk into the room.
The camera cuts back–
And now she’s there.
Not running. Not posing. Just standing at the top of the ramp.
Dolly Waters. In all black.
No pyro. No allies.
Just that towering wall of Ode to Joy behind her.
The cameras are shaking even harder now.
Her expression is still. No smiling. No hints of anger. No theatrics.
Just a calm, unreadable focus.
Her eyes lock on Kieran and don’t move.
The camera zooms in, tight on her face. There’s something different to her.
This isn’t the plucky underdog.
This isn’t the Gypsy Queen.
This isn’t even The Revolutionary.
This is something colder.
Something resolved. Like she’s already won something nobody else knows about yet.
JR: ...she’s supposed to be gone, Jac! Reports are that her knee is beyond repair!
King backs up a step. He raises the mic again, trying to grab control.
Kieran King: YOU THINK THIS CHANGES ANYTHING?! YOU THINK–?!.
Dolly tilts her head. Almost looking disappointed.
And then–
She takes a step forward on that bad left knee.
The camera shakes again as the crowd explodes.
This time it’s unmistakable.
“DO-LLY! DO-LLY! DO-LLY!”
She walks with slow, measured steps. Every step timed with the music like a march. Like she’s approaching a coronation.
Kieran paces now. Agitated. Talking to himself. Pointing. Yelling. But he doesn’t leave the ring. He can’t.
JC: King said one-on-one nobody can stop him… but he doesn’t look like he believes that anymore!
Dolly reaches the bottom of the ramp. She stops. Looks up at him. A faint smile of inevitability on her lips.
Waters gets into the ring while King points and laughs.
Kieran King: Oh look, everybody! It's the human trash I threw out! What, did they put you in the wrong bin or something? Are you garden waste or just regular household variety trash? I tell you what, we damn sure don't need to be recycling your useless ass!
There’s a shower of boos from the audience, raining down on Kieran before:
“DO-LLY! DO-LLY! DO-LLY!” resumes.
Dolly doesn’t rush to speak. She stands there instead. Letting the chants in the arena breathe. Letting them build. Then slowly raises a microphone.
The music fades all the way out. But the crowd continues.
Dolly Waters: You hear that?
She tilts her head, listening to the crowd,
Dolly Waters: That ain’t noise, Kieran. That’s memories.
She takes a step forward, never breaking eye contact.
Dolly Waters: You can lie to yer’self all you want… you can puff yer’ chest out… scream about crowns and titles and survival…but these people?
They remember what this place looks like when it doesn’t belong to you.
The crowd pops again.
Kieran King: What the fuck do you know about memories? I was here before you and I'm still here now! I'm not just ingrained in the memories of this place. I AM THE MEMORIES!
Dolly smirks.
Dolly Waters: That's right. You stood here… five minutes ago… talkin’ about how yer’ the last one left.
How you survive everything.
How you always find a way.
A faint smirk
Dolly Waters: Yer’ right. You do survive. Ain’t that yer’ whole thing? You cling on. You scratch. You claw. You outlast.
Her expression tightens.
Dolly Waters: But survival ain’t the same thing as building something worth a damn.
You didn’t build a kingdom, Kieran.
You built a cage. And the second the door cracked open—
She gestures up the ramp where the Kingsguard disappeared.
Dolly Waters: They ran. Like refugees fleeing a dictator.
King’s face twists with anger.
Kieran King: I’m a three-time Universal Champion! Two-time King of the XWF! Star of the Year! I did that! I built that! YOU'VE NEVER BUILT SHIT!
Dolly Waters: Hmph.
She doesn't seem impressed.
Dolly Waters: You call yer’self the President of the Union?
She lets out a small, humorless laugh.
Dolly Waters: You don’t even know what the word means.
The Union aint a crown you wear.
It ain’t a microphone you scream into.
It ain’t a bunch of scared men waiting on yer’ next order.
She steps even closer now. Closing all of the distance between them.
Dolly Waters: A union is people…
Who choose each other, even when it’s hard.
Her eyes flick down briefly to her own knee
Dolly Waters: Even when it hurts.
The crowd swells
Dolly Waters: And you?
You don’t have that.
Not anymore.
Because the second you got scared… you turned on yer’ own.
So don’t you stand there and talk to me about being “the last one left”.
You ain’t the last one.
Yer’ just the one that everybody finally walked away from.
The crowd erupts.
Dolly Waters: And now yer’ standin’ in OUR ring…
Holdin’ OUR word in yer’ mouth…
Crowned yer’self with somethin’ you never earned.
So let’s make this real simple. You want to prove yer’ the greatest survivor that professional wrestling has ever known? You wanna’ prove that nobody can stop you?
Then stop me.
Right here.
Right now.
She taps her knee once.
Dolly Waters: Bad leg and all.
And when I beat you, you’ll be officially absolved of yer’ duties as “president” of the Union.
Yer’ gonna’ finally understand the difference between ruling people, and standing with them
The crowd breaks out into Dolly chants again. The cameras still shaking.
The mic drops.
King’s nostrils flaring.
Kieran King: You’re forgetting your manners…
His voice carries the quiet malice of someone who has resolved himself to something terrible.
Kieran King: You didn't say “please.” And more importantly… you didn't say “thank you!” because without ME, your union would be dead in the water, like your fucking career is! You want a chance at taking your union back? On one condition… I win, and you get on that microphone one more time and in front of everyone you say “Thank you, My King!” So let's do it, Dolly. But when I’m done this time, you’re going to be able to stand for anything again.
JC: No way… is this really happening?
It is.
Kieran King
- vs -
Dolly Waters If Dolly Waters wins, Kieran King is no longer President of the XWF Union
If Kieran King wins, Dolly Waters must say “thank you” for saving the union
The crowd is at a ravenous pitch, not knowing they were going to be seeing Dolly freaking Waters live in action tonight!
Dolly clasps her hands into fists.
Kieran King’s eyes narrow as he focuses on his prey.
And they explode!
Dolly Waters and Kieran King start laying into each other with wild punches! The fury with which they both unload on each other—Kieran King as a man on the precipice of losing everything; Dolly Waters as a woman with the fate of the world on her shoulders—means neither really lands the best punches they could. The action takes them around the ring and eventually they spill over to the outside.
Even then, they don’t stop!
A quick thumb to the eye from Kieran King turns the advantage in his direction.
JC: What a cheap trick!
JR: Are you STILL surprised by that?
King unloads on Waters, backing her into the ringside barricade.
But there, Waters catches King with a quick palm strike that connects with his throat and the advantage swings back to her.
JR: Was that a cheap trick too?
JC: What was it you said in King’s previous match? ‘All is fair in love and war!’
Fighting back with strikes of her own, Waters backs King into the ring apron. After a particularly gnarly blow to King’s gut, Waters takes him by the head and bounces the 3-time Universal Champion’s face off the steel steps!
King staggers away.
Waters pursues.
But King drops down into a basement dropkick that takes out Dolly Waters’s left leg!
Dolly Waters crumbles instantly!
She clutches at her knee and a hush breaks out over the entire audience.
JC: Oh no…
JR: Is that…
JC: Her blown knee? It sure is. That bastard King knew exactly what he was doing with that dropkick!
JR: How does that make him the bad guy? Dolly Waters signed up for this! Doesn’t that just make Kieran King smart?
JC: He’s still a prick!
JR: Well… yeah… that’s fair.[white]
That prick licks his lips as he sees Dolly Waters writhing in agony.
King grabs Waters by the leg and smashes it, knee-first, against the steel steps, returning the favour of what she did to him with interest. Again! Again! The sound of Dolly’s leg ricocheting off steel is only drowned out by the agony that Waters herself emits. King follows it up with repeated stomps to the knee, not unlike what he did to Tommy Gunn earlier in the night—but with a bit more malice and intent behind it.
And then he spots a chair.
It’s dented and damaged, because Tommy Gunn’s head was driven through it not that long ago.
Now the damage it brings belongs to Dolly Waters.
Kieran King wraps it around Waters’s leg, and then methodically climbs up the steel steps…
And he jumps onto the chair!
It contorts Dolly’s leg and she thrashes about—kicking the chair away and clutching at her knee!
[white]JC: Oh God, we might be seeing the last match of Dolly Waters here. I’m not sure her knee will be able to come back from this!
Now satisfied with the damage, King hurls Waters under the bottom rope.
As Waters crawls across the mat of the ring, King—confident as ever—turns his attention to a rowdy crowd member in the front row with a simple sign that reads ‘NEW KING!’
Kieran King rips the sign in half in full view of the camera.
He heads back on up the steps, and enters into the ring–
–RUNNING WATERS!!!!!
JC: WHAT THE HELL?!
The crowd explodes!
Dolly Waters connects with the knee to Kieran King’s skull!
She falls to the mat, unable to even stand!
But Kieran King falls too!
Desperately, Waters tries to crawl towards King, but King—the veteran that he is—finds safety at the ropes.
It’s a battle to see who can get to their feet first, and unfortunately for Dolly Waters, despite the damage she just inflicted on her foe, her leg just can’t support her to stand up quick enough.
Kieran King snatches her.
F UR HEAD!
Dolly Waters hits the ground, and Kieran King damn near bounces back up!
He heads for the turnbuckle. At the top King gives a defiant middle finger to the crowd before leaping off with the King Maker!
JC: This is it! The end of Dolly Waters!
The 450 misses!
JC: No! I spoke too soon!
Kieran King hits the mat HARD!
The crowd finds their voice again!
Somehow, someway, on one leg Dolly Waters rises.
RUNNING WATERS!
JC: OHMYGOD SHE’S STILL IN THIS! DOLLY WATERS CAN’T STAND BUT DOLLY WATERS CAN STILL FIGHT!
Both she and King hit the ground again.
The race is on to recover.
They both get up at about the same time!
Kieran King goes to swing—RUNNING WATERS!!
They’re both down again!
JC: COVER HIM, DOLLY!
But Dolly Waters can’t get there in time!
Kieran King is at the ropes once more. Slowly, but surely, he pulls himself up and…
RUNNING WATERS!!!
There’s only one place for Kieran King to land this time and that’s the centre of the ring.
And there’s only one place for Dolly Waters to land, and that’s right on top of King!
1…!
2…!
3!!!!!
Winner: Dolly Waters
JC: DOLLY WATERS WINS! DOLLY WATERS WINS!
JR: You know what this means, right JC?
JC: KIERAN KING HAS LOST EVERYTHING! NO UNIVERSAL TITLE! NO KING OF THE XWF! NO KINGSGUARD! NO UNION PRESIDENCY! THE MAN HAS NOTHING LEFT AND I LOVE IT!
JR: What’d he ever do to you?
JC: HE SHAT ON MY DESK ONCE!
JR: …What?
The camera cuts away before Jacuinde says anything else.
The med team is already in the ring, helping Dolly Waters up. The crowd in Barcelona gives her a standing ovation, and she fights off the trainers for just a short moment to rest against the barricade and absorb their love for her.
With a hand on her heart, she offers it back, mouthing ‘thank you’.
As the medics step in again to help her up the ramp, the camera cuts back to the ring, where Kieran King’s eyes blink open as he lays in the ring, flat on his back, staring up at the lights.
All alone.
Deena Hixx is already in the ring.
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
JC: Gotta give it to John Blade, he’s nothing if not persistent in the ring. That ‘never say die’ attitude has got to be commended.
JR: That type of attitude can also get him into big trouble in the ring, though.
JC: Maybe, but I don’t think that’s going to stop him any time soon.
JC: Is that a new theme song?!
JR: It sure as Hell sounds like it!
As the song starts, fog forms across the stage as the lights go dim. Lights adorning the stage aim their beams towards one specific spot. The camera angle changes to the ramp, as it slowly goes up, and Oz's silhouette starts rising from the stage, his back to the ramp. As the chorus is about to end, his hands go up and as the singer is about to belt out 'FUCKING BOW DOWN!' Oz swings his arms down, causing stage fireworks to start go off and once done, he spins around his right leg swinging out stomping on the ramp on the word 'DOWN!', causing a bunch of fireworks to blast out from the Xtron.
JC: Oz is meaning all business here tonight, just look at him as he makes his way down to the ring.
JR: Gotta imagine he’s looking at this as his get-right match here tonight. Oz has been taking names on Anarchy recently, and even though it’s caught up with him a bit, this is the perfect chance to get his feet back under him.
As he walks down to the ring, he looks over to the crowd and only acknowledges the ones with signs about him. He jumps to the ring apron, causing ring post fireworks to go off, as he steps over the top rope and goes to stand in the middle of the ring, beating his chest before swinging his arms with his index fingers pointing to the ground to reiterate the top of the song yelling out but being drowned out by the music 'FUCKING BOW DOWN!' before going to his corner, getting ready before the match starts.
Mister Oz
- vs -
John Blade and Deena Hixx Handicap Match
1 RP/ 1k
HIGHLIGHT REEL
DING! DING! DING!
[white]JC: And we’re off, folks! Mister Oz stands across the ring from not one, but TWO opponents tonight. John Blade and Deena Hixx. Can the big man handle both of them?
JR: Two-on-one, Jack. I don't care how big you are. That's a problem.
John Blade locks eyes with Mister Oz, not a hint of fear or hesitation found within. Oz is confident, bouncing up and down on his feet as he motions for Blade to come bring it.
Blade hops out of his corner, quickly taking the fight to Oz with a right hand! It manages to rock him as another comes in! And another! And another!
Blade hops off the ropes now! Flying shoulder tackle!
…
Doesn’t manage to faze the big man.
JC: Uh-oh.
JR: He’s like a damn mountain…
Blade doesn’t give up though! He hops right back onto his feet and goes for another shoulder tackle! This one actually forces Oz to take a step back as he grits his teeth! Blade goes for a third shoulder tackle-
COUNTER HIP TOSS BY OZ FLINGS BLADE HALFWAY ACROSS THE RING!
JC: He just threw him like a ragdoll!
JR: So high in the air that I think he could have seen his house from up there!
Blade comes right back up to his feet, seeing the outstretched hand of Deena Hixx waiting for him. Blade hesitates, before slapping Hixx into the ring.
JC: Hixx in the ring for the first time!
JR: If Blade and Hixx wanna stay in this, they’re gonna have to make use of frequent tags. Keep the fresh competitor in and keep Oz winded.
Hixx keeps her guard up as she quickly nails Oz with a hard kick to the legs. Oz grunts, shrugging off the blow. Another knee has him limping off to the corner, sucking in air now through his teeth.
Hixx runs in now, looking for a monkey flip…
CAUGHT! Oz hoists her up high and quickly slams her down with a SPINEBUSTER!
JC: Deena Hixx looks like she’s seeing stars right about now!
JR: She probably should have taken that one slower…
Oz pulls Hixx upright and whips her into the ropes! A big boot on the rebound nearly takes her head off as she quickly collapses! He follows with a knee drop, deliberate and heavy, then drags her back to his corner.
JC: Oz clearly in no rush here.
JR: And why should he be? He’s got Hixx right where he wants her.
A clubbing shoulder thrust to the gut is enough to make Hixx want to vomit on the spot as she narrowly holds it in. Oz pulls her out before he hoists her up into a suplex!
He’s holding his position though! Hixx’s body is inverted, blood rushing to her head… and Oz begins to squat!
Once!
Twice!
Three times as the crowd oohs and aahs!
On the fourth, he drops her straight down onto the canvas, leaving Hixx writhing as she crawls towards her corner!
Blade’s hand is outstretched! Deena reaches for it!
But Oz grabs her by the ankle!
Deena quickly hits an enzuigiri to force Oz back as she tags in John Blade!
JC: The match just got saved for Hixx’s team!
JR: All depends on if John Blade can do something with this!
Blade sprints in as Oz looks stunned, hopping off the ropes and nailing him with a beautiful Springboard Stunner! It doesn’t quite take the big man down though as he’s staggering, leaving Blade to run off the ropes and take him down with a bulldog!
JC: It’s not like Blade to be fighting as the smaller man in a match, but he’s trying his best to take it to Mister Oz right about now!
Blade hops onto Oz for the quick pin attempt!
ONE!
TWO!
OZ THROWS JOHN BLADE HALFWAY ACROSS THE RING TO KICK OUT!
JC: I think you could count on one hand the amount of wrestlers in this company with that amount of freakish strength!
JR: Animal. He’s just simply an animal.
Desperation is beginning to settle in for John Blade. Oz is running off the ropes, but he manages to dig down deep to hit a HUGE spinebuster of his own right in the center of the ring! The crowd inside of the cathedral pops like crazy for the show of strength as he has to hunch over!
JC: Give credit where it’s due, John Blade had to pull off his own freakish feat of strength just to lift Oz!
JR: Looks like Deena’s wanting back in this match…
Deena hops to the top rope as she’s looking for a diving crossbody… AND SHE HITS IT!
BUT WAIT!
OZ ROLLS OVER THE IMPACT AS HE COMES TO HIS FEET! HE HOISTS DEENA HIGH INTO THE AIR!
GORILLA PRESS GUTBUSTER!
JC: Deena just got turned inside-out!
JR: That type of move could mess you up for a long time…
OZ ROARS AS THE STAINED GLASS OF THE SAGRADA FAMILIA GLOWS BEHIND HIM!
Blade is trying his best to save Hixx with several right hands being thrown right now! Oz is staggering, but he’s still not falling!
Blade runs the ropes one more time, but Oz yanks the top rope down, sending Blade sailing right over and falling to the floor!
Hixx comes up behind Oz and looks to nail him with a right hand, but Oz catches the blow! He wrenches the arm as he grins at Hixx, before backpedaling right up the ropes! She’s trying to hang on for dear life as he’s balancing himself…
BEFORE HE LEAPS RIGHT OFF TO NAIL HER WITH A REVERSE STO!
JC: MISTER OZ IS WALKING DOWN THE OPPS, AND THAT MIGHT BE ALL SHE WROTE!
JR: You could count to a million and this would be over!
Oz looks like he’s about to go for the pin… but stops and hesitates as he pulls Deena back to her feet.
JR: But it looks like he’d rather make a statement instead!
Oz THROWS Deena high into the air! And as she plummets back down to earth, Oz raises his leg to clobber her with a knee strike!
JC: Sleep Now, Sweet Child 'O Mine! And Deena Hixx surely just got herself a concussion off of that move!
Oz hooks the leg as the referee counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Winner: MISTER OZ!
JC: HUGE win here tonight by Mister Oz! Dominant showing, at that!
JR: Gotta imagine that’s a nice burst of momentum for him here tonight. John Blade was a man who made it to the second round of March Madness, and Mister Oz managed to pack him and Deena up tonight.
Mister Oz lets his hand get raised by the referee as he smugly smirks, and March Madness rolls on…
JC: Folks, this next match is… well, it’s an odd one, no doubt!
JR: I don’t find it odd at all, Jacuinde! We live in an age where combat is content and fists flying is another form of engagement! We’re all selling the product, these two are just going to skip a step by literally selling! And the winner is the one who sells harder!
Helix Nebula by Anamanaguchi blasts as colored lights in beat to the rhythm pass over the roaring crowd. When the beat kicks in Game Girl swoops down from the rafters on her flying cloud, Nimbus, going over fans and reaching down to give them passing high fives before sailing over to the ring and flipping down to her feet into a fist-raising pose.
JC: Game Girl is one of the most beloved names in XWF history! She refuses to back down from a fight! Refuses to ever give up the chance to be there for her friends!
JR: But, not only does this stip uniquely suit her opponent! It also dooms her from the moment the bell rings, Jacuinde! This is a match about selling! And Game Girl is literally a character from an unreleased video game that didn’t make its crowdfunding goal! She’s literally never sold anything, even the idea of her!
JC: I disagree, Joe! Game Girl has the XWF Universe bought into her! They want her to succeed with their whole hearts!!
…
Bobby Sales steps out onto the ramp, wearing a headset and holding up a paperclip
BOBBY: Alright, alright, alright people of….uh…..this town. Ain’t you tired of you papers being all over the place? All disorganized and what-not!
Bobby keeps walking until he gets into the ring. Game Girl squints, intrigued by Sales’s salesmanship…
BOBBY: Folks, my papers used to be scattered from my foyer to my foy-zee! Until I discovered the power of…
Bobby reaches into his pocket!
Retrieving a paperclip!
BOBBY: This paper-fastening clip! This will FIX your ENTIRE LIFE!
JC: Possible overpromise there by Bobby Sales!
JR: Hey, this is a selling match! Not an accurate advertising match! And I think we’re officially underway!
Game Girl
- vs -
Bobby Sales WALL STREET KID MATCH
Both Competitors start with something small and inexpensive! They must barter and trade up in value... with the ring crew, with the crowd, with other XWF talent, WHOEVER! After five minutes, the winner is whoever has traded up to the most valuable item!
HIGHLIGHT REEL
5:00
4:59
4:58
The official admonishes Bobby for starting before the bell has rung! He points to the XWF logo on his shirt!
Bobby eyes it intrigued…
BOBBY: Ooooh, very nice patchwork! Now, let me ask you something my black-and-white striped friend… You got a rulebook for your job?
The official peers suspicious, but nods…
BOBBY: And do people respect your rulebook when you try and tell them the rules?
Game Girl eyes this exchange with astonishment as the official pshaws! No one respects the rules!
BOBBY: You know why they don’t! Cuz the rules aren’t organized neatly!
Bobby raises his paperclip!
BOBBY: VOILA! Organize your rules and get the respect of your talent today! I’ll trade you this paperclip for that XWF patch on your shirt!
JR: Oh my! Bobby’s seeking a major upgrade from trade one!
JC: But here comes Game Girl with…
Game Girl reaches into her inventory and pulls out…
…
A single button.
Game Girl shows it to the official!
GG: Hey, referee guy! I was a referee! And referees gotta stick together, huh?
…The official is unmoved.
GG: …Um… anyway, this button! It’s got… four button holes!
…
JR: Uninspiring.
GG bites her lip disappointed as the official apologetically shrugs his shoulders… before tearing off his XWF patch and trading it to Sales for the paperclip!
TODD: Oh man! Sales has made his first trade of the match and I think he has a huge lead over GG!
3:57
3:56
3:55
Sales has dived under the bottom rope and is trying to start an auction for the XWF patch from the referee’s shirt!
BOBBY: Do I hear $20? $25? $50? $75?
JC: Does he actually hear those things or is he just saying bigger and bigger numbers?
JR: It’s working, though! Sales is SELLING out there! An-... oh god, don’t look.
Game Girl approaches the announce table, holding up her button!
GG: Hey, Jacuinde! This button… it’s really… uh… good! At being a button! You definitely want it, right?
JC: …Uh… sorry, GG, part of my journalistic integrity means not getting involved in a match…
JR: I have no such qualms.
GG gasps, excitedly!
GG: Really?
JR: Really.
…
JR: No, the reason *I’M* not buying your button is you’re bad at selling things.
…
JR: Also, I’m a velcro man.
…GG sighs, kicking an empty tin can which just seemed to apparate from thin air as she needed something to air out her frustrations!
BOBBY: SOLD! For Three-hundred-and-Twenty-Three Dollars!
Bobby frisbees the patch into the crowd and gets three-hundred-twenty-three dollars stuffed into his hands!
JC: Wow! This one is all Sales’ way so far!
3:03
3:02
3:01
Bobby points to the camera.
BOBBY: Now, camera guy, check this out!
Bobby has sprinted into the backstage area, where Elon Musk has setup a… Bitcoin ATM!
BOBBY: We’re gonna buy the most secure currency ever… cryptocurrency! Ya know crypto’s the future, don’tcha!
JR: Oh my God, crypto!?! Bobby’s gotta be a millionaire from bringing a paperclip to the ring before the five minutes is even up!
Meanwhile, Game Girl is holding her button and circling the ring, seeing if any fans want it…
By ringside, a member of the ring crew is trying to secure the turnbuckle pad to the turnbuckle… You know, for when matches happen later on this wrestling show…
Game Girl notices his top button is unbuttoned!
JR: Game Girl is so desperate, she’s trying to make a trade with a loser on the RING CREW! Those people make minimum wage and I therefore hate them!
Game Girl walks up excitedly to the ring crew member! She points at the button and then the young man’s shirt…
The young man strokes his chin, before shrugging! He offers the lace he was using to tie the turnbuckle pad!
Game Girl makes the trade!
GAME GIRL
BARTER LEVEL INCREASED BY ONE
JC: Hey! Game Girl just got on the scoreboard!
JR: But it’s almost the equivalent of the third quarter! And Bobby Sales has been running laps around her already!
1:59
1:58
1:57
BOBBY: And now, I take my one-twelfth of a bitcoin… And I use it to buy an NFT!
JR: Bobby Sales is the smartest man who has ever lived!
JC: Oh God, NFTs!
JR: What would you rather he do, Jacuinde! Buy your beanie baby collection? NFTs are guaranteed to increase in value! And you’re an idiot if you think otherwise!
Bobby pulls out his phone and uses his bitcoin to mint an NFT of Elon Musk wearing a block of cheese on his head as Chuck E. Cheese takes a bite of his skull from above…
JR: That’s gonna be in the Louvre someday…
Meanwhile, a child in the front row, a red balloon tied to her wrist, is struggling to tie her shoes… One of her laces is broken!
Game Girl approaches and takes her lace to tie the little girl’s shoe! The little girl’s face lights up and she gives GG her balloon!
GAME GIRL
BARTER LEVEL INCREASED BY THREE
JC: GG makes another trade!
JR: Big deal, she’s got a balloon! IS IT ON THE BLOCKCHAIN, JACUINDE!
0:47
0:46
0:45
Sales strolls back to the ring confidently, holding his phone up for the official to see…
BOBBY: Did it. Done. I win. Check it, ref.
JC: It looks like Bobby is declaring victory with over half-a-minute to spare!
JR: Was there ever a doubt, Jacuinde!
The official squints, peering at the screen…
Bobby proudly smirks, explaining what non-fungible means as an asset…
The referee turns the screen around…
…Bobby’s NFT price chart says it’s worth…
EIGHT CENTS?!?
BOBBY: WHAT?!?
JR: NO! WHAT?!? THE NFT IS WORTHLESS!?! HOW?!?
JC: Man… I finally get Schadenfreude Clown’s deal, cuz this moment feels amazing…
Bobby peers at the screen, shaking his phone as if that might increase its value…
Instead it drops to seven cents…
Meanwhile, GG is under the apron, talking to the moleman who hands people weapons when they go under the apron for weapons!
JC: …She’s talking to whom?
JR: The moleman who hands people weapons when they reach under the apron. What? Did you think guys just grab whatever’s done there! There’s a system in place, Jacuinde!
Game Girl offers the moleman her balloon…
Oooooooh, it’s pretty and red! He nods and gives her…
A TABLE!
GAME GIRL
BARTER LEVEL INCREASED BY FIVE
JC: Oh my! Game Girl has a table! Cash value… like eighteen dollars! I think GG’s about to pull off the upset!
Game Girl rolls the table under the bottom rope and dashes up the ring steps to show off the fruits of her labors…
0:14
0:13
0:12
Bobby starts to flop sweat as Game Girl sets up the table for the referee to look at!
JC: I think Bobby’s realizing his time as salesman of the moment is about to en-
JR: OH MY GOD! LOOK, JACUINDE!
Bobby leaps through the air with desperation coursing through his veins…
AND PUTS HIMSELF THROUGH THE TABLE!
JC: OH MY GOD! Why did Bobby do that?!?
JR: Because now that table is worthless, Jacuinde! It’s scrap wood!
0:05
0:04
Bobby lays down among the splintered wood and breathes a sigh of relief, holding up his five-cent NFT, ready for victory!
0:03
0:02
GG: SOLD!
Bobby’s eyes widen from the mat!
JR: Wait, I blinked, what just happened!
A fan in the front row hands GG… $1250!
For the table that Bobby Sales just put himself through!
JC: I think Bobby forgot wrestling fans want a piece of history more than anything! I think Bobby actually made that table worth more by putting himself through it!
BOBBY: No… NO!
TIME’S UP!
Winner by $1249.95… Game Girl!
BOBBY: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
JC: Incredible showing by Game Girl! She outsold Bobby Sales!
JR: She may have won this round, Jacuinde! But Bobby Sales will never stop selling! He’s only just begun to sell!
JC: Folks, this next one is going to get down-right strange!
JR: No arguments from me on that hypothesis, Jacuinde! We’ve got an artist who was willing to go to a Dubai jail for her art, and… maybe murdered a bunch of clowns just to stop her opponent from playing the numbers game!
JC: And in the other corner, we have… whatever the Hell Schadenfreude Clown is… An Eldritch horror that feeds on humiliation and shame?
Schadenfreude Clown enters to blaring lights and loud electronic, pulsating music.
He steps on to the ramp with a unicycle in hand and waves to the crowd! As he motions to jump on the unicycle, the music cuts and he wags a finger signalling HE WILL NOT ride the unicycle! The crowds disappointment fuels Schadenfreude Clown as he smiles smugly and waves the smell of despair to his nostrils.
He walks down the ramp, shoes honking all the way.
JC: Schadenfreude Clown is actually undefeated at this point in his career, I think?
JR: It’s too! He scored a shocking victory against Mister Oz in his debut… And then he led Clowns ‘R Us 2000 in a shocking upset over the Kingsguard! It was enough to make Elon Musk consider having him as his personal champion!
JC: But does Schadenfreude even care about victory? Or is he simply determined to inflict humiliation and suffering on his opponent?
JR: And what’s he gonna do in the ring with an artiste like Korvayne?
He draws a sword from nowhere!
He goes to stick it down his throat!
He stops, wagging a finger with a smug shake of the head.
The crowd is simply seething at this point, MUCH to his delight! The heel!
Schadenfreude Clown enters the ring, NORMALLY!!!!
IT'S LUCKY A RIOT HASN'T START BY NOW!
AND HE'S JUST SO DAMN SMUG ABOUT IT! LOOK AT THAT SATISFACTION ON THAT SADIST'S FACE!
Out of pure disgust, production skip the rest of his entrance!
…
Korvayne’s ring music plays and she is appalled by the reaction the fans give her as she heads to the ring, and she spends a lot of needless time arguing with the fans.
JC: Korvayne looked absolutely dominant in her PPV debut against Deena Hixx!
JR: If her critics thought getting bailed out of a Dubai jail just hours before a show would throw her off her game, she proved them wrong! She made the Geek Goddess look down right mortal!
JC: If anything, it might have made her better! Korvayne seems determined to have all eyes on her! No press is bad press and she thrives on the attention of the masses!
JR: But how will she handle an opponent like Schadenfreude Clown? A clown determined to put that attention on her most shameful moments?!?
Eventually she gets in the ring, does her artsy pose, and bows though the fans don't deserve it.
…
The sacred cathedral looms impossibly high above them… stained glass casting fractured rainbows across the ring… the silence heavy, reverent—
—and completely disrespected by what’s about to happen.
Schadenfreude Clown stands in the ring, head tilted at an unnatural angle, painted grin stretched ear to ear… his eyes wide, unblinking… trembling with anticipation.
Korvayne stands across from him, lips curled in amused disgust… chin high… eyes scanning the cathedral like she’s been gifted the most extravagant gallery in the world.
JC: I… I still cannot believe this match is taking place inside the Sagrada Família…
JR: I can! Do you know how much the Trillionaires were willing to pay in rental fees?!
The bell rings.
Korvayne
- vs -
Schadenfreude Clown X-Treme Rules
HIGHLIGHT REEL
Schadenfreude’s eyes widen with childlike delight, his body jittering as if he’s already imagining Korvayne screaming in agony.
”OhohohoHOOOOO!” He cackles in a very German way.
Korvayne’s expression tightens into irritated elegance, as if an amateur has just splashed paint across her canvas.
She charges in with a…SPINNING BACKFIST!
Schadenfreude Cloen manages to bridge backwards, ducking under…
But… SNAP!
Korvayne’s fist cuts through the air like a samurai’s blade, smashing…
VALUABLE RELIGIOUS POTTERY! A little statue Mary gets smacked off its pedestal…
AND SHATTERS ON THE MAT!
JC: Why the Hell was that in the ring?!?
JR: Schadenfreude works in mysterious ways…
Looking at Korvayne upside down, whilst still bridging, SF giggles with delight…
”Oh noooooooo! You broke ze preshioush artifact! How embarrassh-“
WHAM! In a flash, Korvayne axe-kicks straight down on SF’s ribs… He collapses backwards in the mat!
”Ohooooo Owieeeeee!”
JC: Korvayne seems totally unaffected by Schadenfreude Clown’s shame-based antics!”
JR: She’s an artist and a provocateur, Jacuinde! Her body isn’t capable of even producing shame! So long as she gets a reaction!
Schadenfreude Clown rolls across the mat clutching his ribs, his painted grin wobbling into a brief grimace of real pain… As Korvayne is trying to stomp a mudhole into the clown, but only hitting mat!
”Ouch, you brute! You schweinert!”
Korvayne goes for a KNOCKOUT axe kick to the skull!
…But SF Clown narrowly somersaults backwards to avoid it! He scrambles backward on all fours like a startled spider, retreating toward the ropes.
JC: Korvayne taking control early here! She’s looking dominant!
JR: But that Schadenfreude Clown won’t rest until he’s destroyed her psyche! Until he’s broken her confidence and left her a shell of herself!
Schadenfreude suddenly leaps to his feet and bolts toward the ropes—
Korvayne’s eyes narrow, annoyed by the clown’s frantic retreat.
She charges after him, looking to trap him against the ropes…
But Schadenfreude pulls down the top rope!
And Korvayne goes flying over!
And as she does, she flies through the outside, in front of a velvet curtain…
Schadenfreude ducks through the ropes and pulls a rope…
FWOOOSH!
A curtain falls open from the cathedral rafters.
Behind it? A giant framed oil painting.
A teenage Korvayne in a pastel sundress…
Standing beside a horse…
Painting a sunset with soft, sincere brushstrokes.
The title plaque reads:
“Friendship Meadow – Julia Corliss, Age 14.”
The crowd gasps!
JC: …Oh my.
JR: Oh my GOD! Is that… teenage Korvayne?!
Schadenfreude points dramatically at the painting and doubles over laughing.
“OHOHOHOHOHO! Look at ze early work of ze edgy artist! Sho wholeshome! Sho pure! Hohohoho, I shink ze young pee-pull call it… CRIIIIIIIIINGE. Ohohohohoho!”
Korvayne’s eyes slowly slide toward the painting.
Her jaw tightens.
Her nostrils flare.
JR: Oh boy… that might actually have gotten to her, Jacuinde…
JC: I actually think that drawing looks very nice!
JR: The fact that you like it is exactly why Korvayne despises it!
Schadenfreude wipes fake tears from his eyes and bows mockingly toward the painting.
“Ohohohohoho! You look upshet, fraulien? Perhaps you should get off your high horshe… Ohohoho!”
In a flash, Korvayne suddenly bursts forward like a striking panther—
ANOTHER SPINNING BACKFIST!
Schadenfreude shrieks and ducks—
WHIFF!
Korvayne’s fist barely misses him—
And—
CRASH!
Another pedestal gets knocked over.
JC: It looks like Schadenfreude Clown is trying to embarrass Korvayne with more art destruction?
JR: But wait, Jacuinde! That vase wasn’t religious like the last one… It looks like it’s got… some paper in it?
This time a framed receipt spills out across the mat.
Schadenfreude dives for it.
He holds it up triumphantly.
[white]JC: What in the world is that?!
“OOOOO! Pumpkin Shpice Latte! Almond milk! Extra whip! OHOHOHO!”
He waves the receipt wildly in Korvayne’s
“Missh edgy young artishte drinksh dessert coffee like un suburban mozzer! OHOHOHOHOHOHO”
JR: OH THAT’S DEVASTATING! PUMPKIN SPICE?!
JC: Well, I don’t think that’s so embarrassing… Everyone loves a nice sweet treat in the fall…
JR: Jacuinde, I can’t believe you haven’t realized that the fact your basic ass finds all this mundane is exactly why this is so devastating to Korvayne’s street cred.
Korvayne’s eye twitches.
Once.
Schadenfreude prances around the ring waving the receipt like a victory flag.
“What next?! Scrapbook?! Vision board?! Perhapsh a pinterest account of Dishney adult vacation plans?”
He cackles again—
But that tiny lapse in attention costs him.
Korvayne has had enough!
She lunges—
SNAP!
A lightning arm drag sends the clown flipping across the mat.
He lands hard.
For the first time—
Schadenfreude looks startled.
JC: OH! She got him!
JR: Uh oh… this is where it gets dangerous…
Schadenfreude scrambles up in panic—
Korvayne’s lips curl into a wicked smile.
She sprints.
CRACK!
Standing dropkick.
Schadenfreude flies backward into the ropes.
He stumbles forward—
Korvayne is already running.
THUD!
Running dropkick to the jaw.
Schadenfreude spins sideways—
Korvayne rebounds off the ropes—
BOOM!
Springboard dropkick!
The clown crashes violently into the corner.
JC: OH MY GOODNESS!
JR: Korvayne just booked Schadenfreude a one-way ticket to DROPKICK CITY!
Schadenfreude staggers out of the corner dizzy, nose bleeding.
”Ohohoho… Ouchie…
Korvayne’s eyes gleam.
The masterpiece is nearly finished.
She climbs the turnbuckle.
The cathedral crowd rises.
She leaps—
WHAM!
MISSILE DROPKICK!
Schadenfreude flips completely upside down before crashing to the mat.
Korvayne rises slowly.
Dusting off her hands.
Looking down at him like a critic reviewing bad theater.
She grabs him by the head.
Drags him up.
Second rope.
Launch—
PICASSO PUNCH!!!
Her fist detonates across his jaw.
Schadenfreude collapses instantly.
Dead still.
Korvayne kneels calmly beside him.
Hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Winner: Korvayne
Korvayne rises off the fallen clown…
She bows dramatically to the assembled crowd… Before stomping SF Clown HARD between his legs…
”Ooooooof! Mein bratwurst!”
As the show comes back from commercial, Ennui Clown is lying face down in the ring. He’s not unconscious, just kinda bummed.
JC: I can’t believe this guy has a win over the Kingsguard on his record!
JR: It’s a shocking fact, Jacuinde. Ennui Clown puled off his first win in his young XWF career against what at-the-time was the personal army of Kieran King… But can he replicate that success tonight against a very different opponent!
…
The lights dim. A low, almost imperceptible hum of static rolls through the speakers. The crowd murmurs, unsure if this is intentional or a tech glitch.
A single cold white spotlight snaps on, not centered on the stage but slightly off to the left, like production missed their cue or Rowan Vance wasn’t where they expected him to be.
Then the unmistakable bassline of “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads kicks in.
The crowd reacts instantly, some cheering, some laughing at the unexpected choice, all of them paying attention.
Rowan Vance steps into the light.
Hands in his pockets, head slightly tilted. Expression unreadable, like he’s listening to something only he can hear.
He doesn’t pose, he just starts walking. Slow, steady, deliberate. Sometimes a hand will come out to slap fives or fist bump those in the crowd.
Every few steps, he glances over his shoulder, not dramatically, just a subtle, instinctive check, like he heard a footstep behind him.
The spotlight follows him, but always a fraction of a second late, giving the whole thing a slightly off‑kilter, uncanny rhythm.
JC: This Rowan Vance marches to the beat of his own drum…
JR: And that drum is slightly off-beat itself! This dude’s a real odd cat, Jacuinde!
JC: He’s definitely unorthodox, but he’s also dedicated! With a quiet intensity that makes it clear just how focused he is on technical excellence! There’s a reason this young man was offered a contract in the XWF! And is having his first match on Pay-per-View! There’s something to Rowan Vance! And the question is… can he take that potential and bring it to the ring? Or will Ennui Clown make him a laughingstock?
As he reaches the ramp, the lighting shifts: a faint blue haze rolls across the stage, giving him a silhouette that looks almost doubled, like someone is walking just behind him.
The crowd can’t tell if it’s a trick of the lights or something else.
Rowan reaches ringside. He pauses as the chorus hits that jittery, staccato vocal rhythm.
He still doesn’t position himself for photo opportunities, doesn’t smirk, just stops, his head turning slightly like he’s trying to locate a sound in the rafters.
Then he slides under the bottom rope with the same quiet, fluid motion he does everything else… As he stands, the arena lights flicker, just once.
Not enough to scream “supernatural.” Just enough to make the audience shift in their seats. Rowan doesn’t react, he’s used to it.
He walks to his corner, leans back against the turnbuckles, and waits, hands still in his pockets, eyes scanning the arena like he’s cataloguing every noise, every movement, every pattern.
The music fades. The static hum returns for half a second, then there's silence, and Rowan Vance is ready.
…
The bell rings!
Rowan Vance
- vs -
Ennui Clown Singles
The moment the bell rings, Rowan charges across the ring, leaping off the mat and colliding with Ennui, who remains standing in the center of the ring.
Rowan throws his shoulder into Ennui, but bounces off, spinning and landing on the mat.
JC: The newcomer throwing himself into Ennui, but couldn’t take the big clown down.
JR: And unlike Ennui, I’m laughing. That was hilarious.
JC: Well by all means, step into the ring and show us how it’s done.
JR: I’m busy. I gotta call the match.
Rowan looks up at Ennui, who just stares down at him, looking sad as ever.
Rowan nods before launching himself up, connecting with a European uppercut.
Ennui staggers back, but not much.
Rowan shakes his head before backing into the ropes. He springs forward, and hits a flying lariat.
Ennui almost falls, but maintains his balance.
JC: Rowan is trying his hardest to take the big clown down.
JR: The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
JC: That’s how the saying goes, yes.
JR: Clearly this youngster has never heard it. He’s what’s wrong with this generation.
Rowan gets up, while Ennui towers over him. Rowan hits a snap kick to the clown’s left leg.
Rowan follows this up with a snap kick to the right leg, before hitting another to the left. Ennui drops to one knee.
Rowan hits the ropes once again, building momentum, before hitting a Sling Blade!
The crowd cheers as Ennui hits the mat.
JC: That youngster did it! He got the big man down!
JR: Oh, boy! Let’s give him a cookie. How many lightweights have we seen take down heavyweights?
JC: You have to give credit where credit is due.
JR: I’m not impressed so far. Just tossing that out there.
Rowan gets back up then runs to the ropes…
…He leaps onto the second rope, flipping backwards…
And Rowan connects with a moonsault. He then hooks the leg.
1!
2!
Ennui kicks out!
JC: The newcomer getting a two count.
JR: Ennui still in this thing and he’s taking this seriously! See! There’s no smile on his face.
JC: There never is, Joe! He’s Ennui Clown
Rowan backs away, scanning at the opposition with Ennui getting to his feet, slowly but surely.
Rowan runs up and connects with a chop block to the back of Ennui’s left knee.
Ennui drops to both knees.
Rowan gets up and bounces off the ropes once again, taking Ennui to the mat with a bulldog.
Ennui rolls over onto his back and Rowan gets up, before going on and stomping on the clown’s right arm over and over.
JC: Rowan is working on Ennui’s limb, transitioning from the legs to the arms.
Rowan grabs the right arm, stepping over and dropping back, synching in an armbar.
JC: Quick technical prowess from the newcomer.
JR: He may be the world’s most depressing clown, but I don’t think you can count Ennui out. And trust me, I know it’s weird giving him credit.
The ref checks on Ennui but he slowly shakes his head, despite the grimace on his face.
JC: Ennui is trying to mask the pain.
JR: That’s not the smartest strategy, but what can you expect?
JC: Staying in a submission hold such as this can only do harm.
Rowan rocks back and forth, keeping the hold locked in tight.
Ennui continues shaking his head.
Ennui then moves, shifting his legs, pulling himself into a hunched over position.
JC: What’s the big man doing?
Rowan keeps the hold locked in as Ennui is shown reaching down and grabbing his right wrist, before slowly standing up.
JR: He’s lifting Rowan off the mat, showcasing the strength we all know this melancholic monster has!
Rowan begins looking around, like he’s contemplating his next move, only for Ennui to drive him down with a powerbomb.
Rowan loses his grip upon impact, but Ennui hooks him, lifting Rowan off the mat..,
…Ennui drives Rowan down with another powerbomb, before lifting him up and hitting a third.
JR: That’s how you do it! There’s some anger in behind all that face paint.
Ennui hooks the leg.
1!
2!
Rowan shoots the shoulder up!
Ennui shrugs before getting to his feet. He pulls Rowan up, but Rowan hits a few punches to the ribs. Ennui hits a double axe handle to the back.
Rowan drops to one knee.
JC: Rowan Vance had a wrench thrown in his game plan. He’s going to have to get out of his head if he wants to win this one.
Ennui goes to whip Rowan, but Rowan reverses it, hitting a superkick. Ennui staggers a bit before Rowan hits a dropkick to both of the clown’s knees.
JC: The newcomer’s waking up, showing that he can adapt quickly.
JR: He’s got to follow it up. Let’s not get too excited.
Rowan gets back up and charges over, connecting with a running knee.
JC: I think he’s followed up nicely. He’s gone from using what he calls the Pattern Breaker to the Fog Line.
JR: It has to actually put an opponent way. Like I said, let’s not get too excited. I know what I’m talking about. If you don’t think so, just ask me.
Rowan goes for the cover.
1!
2!
3…NOOO! Ennui kicks out.
JR: Need I say more?
JC: As you said about Ennui earlier, don’t count the kid out yet.
JR: I’m not sure if we’ve met but I do what I want.
Rowan backs into the corner, studying the clown who is shown slowly pulling himself up, using the ropes.
Ennui turns and Rowan charges forward, only for Ennui to surprise Rowan with a big boot!
Crowd: OOOHHH
JR: And just like that, the momentum has shifted once again.
JC: The crowd can’t believe that impact.
JR: The clown can hit The Case of the Blahs out of nowhere!
Ennui drops down and goes for the cover.
1!
2!
3…NOOO! Rowan kicks out!
JR: Oh man! You can see the exhaustion on Ennui’s face! He’s thinking… What do I have to do to finish this kid off?
JC: …Or he’s thinking about how pointless life is? Because he’s Ennui Clown?
JR: You’re acting like Ennui Clown is only one thing, Jacuinde! He has layers!
JC: Does he? I’ve only seen the one!
Ennui sits up and sighs, his shoulders looking heavy.
Ennui pulls Rowan up, hooking him. The cameras zoom in on his sad face.
JR: Ennui has Rowan hooked. Is he going for it?
JC: As much as I hate to say it, you could be right. Ennui could be preparing to put the newcomer away with The Doldrums.
Rowan, however, begins to land punches to the ribs, connecting with rights and lefts.
Ennui buckles, loosening his grip. Rowan hits another European uppercut.
Rowan jumps back before stepping forward, connecting with a step-up enziguri. Ennui drops to the mat.
Rowan gets back to his feet as Ennui is shown pushing himself to one knee. Rowan runs and connects with the running knee.
JC: Another Fog Line. Come on kid!
Rowan goes for the pin.
1!
2!
Ennui gets the shoulder up. Rowan rolls over and gets back to his feet, stalking the clown.
Ennui goes to get back up, but Rowan hooks him, taking the clown down with a single leg take down.
Rowan mounts the clown and begins raining down with a barrage of vicious elbows.
JC: Rowan showing a bit of brutality here, making sure Ennui stays down.
JR: WHERE IS HIS MANAGER?!
JC: What?
JR: This is like watching Drago pummel Apollo Creed! THROW IN THE DAMN TOWEL!
Rowan rolls off Ennui as the clown slowly rolls onto his stomach, and begins to slowly pull himself towards the ropes.
Rowan charges over and leaps into the air, before connecting with a double foot stomp to the back of the clown’s head, driving him face first into the mat.
JC: Holy hell!
JR: This kid needs to be tested for steroids!
Rowan drops down and locks Ennui into a crossface.
JC: And just like that, he’s got the clown into what Rowan calls the Long Night!
The ref checks with Ennui but there’s nothing….
Rowan cranks back on the hold!
…
Before Ennui finally taps out.
Winner: Rowan Vance
The ref calls for the bell and Rowan breaks the hold before rolling away.
The crowd erupts in cheers as Rowan gets to his feet, with the referee lifting his arm in victory.
The lights go out. Fire surrounds the stage. The X-Tron flickers to life. A heartbeat monitor flatlines. Beep.
“Antivist” by Bring Me The Horizon blasts throughout the arena. The X-Tron features key moments from his career, namely making people eat finishers and kendo sticks.
MIDDLE FINGERS UP, IF YOU DON’T GIVE A FUCK!
Solomon Kline appears on stage on his blue Harley Davidson motorcycle! Flames rise up all around him. He rides his bike down the ramp and the flames subside, replaced by snow-like pyro raining down from the ceiling. He rides his bike to the ring and goes around to each side, raising his middle fingers as the song lyrics denote and encouraging the crowd to join in and sing along with his gesture.
As he makes his way to the last side of the ring, he parks his bike with a kickstand and slides under the bottom rope.
IF YOU REALLY BELIEVE IN THE WORDS THAT YOU PREACH
GET OFF YOUR SCREENS AND ONTO THE STREETS! THERE WILL BE NO PEACEFUL REVOLUTION!
NO WAR WITHOUT BLOOD!
Solomon ascends the turnbuckle and looks around the room, taking in the cheers of the crowd before dropping down awaiting the start of the match.
JC: Solomon pulls up to March Madness with thunderous applause! This crowd is ready to watch the son of XWF Legend Crimson Kline get to work!
JR: And tonight, he's not just fighting for the hell of it! He's fighting for a shot to be named the number one contender for the TV Championship!
JC: This is a big match for Solomon, and if he can win it, then the sky is the limit for this young up-and-comer!
The house lights die. Instantly. The arena plunges into a total, suffocating B L A C K.
Silence hangs in the dead air—a held breath—before the world DETONATES.
SONG: "BLACK RAINBOW" by SPIRIT BOX
♫ YOUR HEART ♫
♫ IS A HOLE ♫
Violent STROBES shatter the dark—a disorienting, epileptic stutter. Words flash on the video screen in rapid, subliminal bursts.
♫ I CAN SEE FOR MILES AND MILES! ♫
♫ BEYOND THE BLACK RAINBOW! ♫
Color-tinted haze bleeds out across the stage floor. The camera sweeps the crowd, catching the frenetic energy. The arena plunges to black again. The music builds, grinding upward.
♫ EX-IT! ♫
CRIMSON SPOTS bleed onto the stage. Through the thick haze, a silhouette stands motionless. Head down. Shoulders rigid.
The lens pushes in aggressively. She lifts her head.
YELENA GORGO. She wears a nightmare grin—arrogant, cruel, and sexy. Intricate blonde braids pull tight against her scalp, gleaming under the red light, woven with crimson thread that looks like fresh sutures.
♫ INSIDE THE MIDNIGHT YOU'VE BEEN SLITH-ER-ING ♫
♫ YOU FORM THE COLUMN'S … DE-FIC-IEN-CY ♫
Yelena breaks her stance. She doesn't walk; she PROWLS. A confident, hip-swaying swagger that radiates pure, unadulterated narcissism. She locks eyes with the camera lens, acknowledging her own dominance.
♫ I LATCH ON TO YOU … WE … RE-PRESS-UR-IZE ♫
♫ IN-FRA-RED … PAR-A-DISE ♫
The bass drops out. A suspended moment of tension. Yelena stops dead. She stares at nothing, eyes wide, that grin horrifyingly fixed.
The beat DROPS.
♫ UPWARDS! FEEL THE PRE-SSURE! ♫
♫ ABSCESS! HEART IS A HOLE! ♫
A fist slams to her chest—perfectly timed to the percussion—as she mouths the scream.
Desperate hands reach over the barricade during the approach to the ring, but they are ignored. The camera angle drops low, transforming her into a giant against the lights, her focus locked entirely on the canvas.
♫ DISSOLVE! DISPLACE! REJOICE! REPEAT! ♫
♫ NO PRESSURE HERE! ADMIT DEFEAT! ♫
Yelena hits the apron and leaps—terrifying athleticism—landing on the edge. She grabs the top rope and leans back, crouching low into a broken, spider-like pose. Her gaze sweeps the arena like a predator surveying the night's menu.
♫ DISSOLVE! DISPLACE! REJOICE! REPEAT! ♫
♫ NO PRESSURE HERE! TO MEET YOUR SOUL! ♫
She explodes to her feet in the center of the ring. Arms thrown wide. Chest heaving. She screams the lyric to the rafters:
♫ BEYOND THE BLACK RAINBOW! ♫
A scream tears from her throat, directed straight at the rafters. In one fluid motion, she spins, hooks the top rope, and leans back over it—hanging upside down—staring backward at the crowd with that frozen, beautiful, PSYCHOPATHIC grin.
JC: And here comes Solomon's opponent: the one and only YELENA GORGO!
JR: Now that is one scary chick! She looks like she could break a man in half with just a dirty look!
JC: I already get the sense that this match is going to be a BARN-BURNER!
#1 Contender to the TV Title
Yelena Gorgo
- vs -
Solomon Kline 15 Minute Time Limit
Highlight Reel
The bell rings and Solomon Kline moves first, heavy and direct, closing distance with long strides and squared shoulders. Yelena Gorgo meets him head on, no hesitation, no circling. They collide in the center of the ring with a violent lockup that immediately turns into a shoving match. Boots dig into the mat, bodies straining, neither giving ground.
Gorgo surges forward and drives Kline back a step.
Then another.
Then another!
JC: Solomon Kline is a big boy, but Yelena Gorgo looks to be winning this test of strength!
JR: Gorgo’s like a cyborg, her strength literally isn’t human! If Solomon Kline can’t outmuscle her, then who the hell can?!
Suddenly Gorgo rips free of the tie up and slams a forearm into Kline’s jaw! The strike is stiff, heavy, and ugly, snapping his head to the side. She follows with another, then another, each one thrown with full weight behind it. Solomon fires back with a right hand that cracks across her cheek, then another, then a third, forcing her to absorb the blows and reset her stance.
They trade blows in the center of the ring, no finesse, no wasted motion. Just raw impact!
JR: This is like watching two gorillas duke it out! These massive specimens, just throwing their strength around!
Gorgo steps in and drives a headbutt straight into his face. It lands flush and stops his momentum cold. She grabs the back of his head and clubs him with another forearm, then shoves him backward into the ropes. He rebounds and she lowers her base, smashing into him with a running shoulder block that sends him staggering but not down.
He plants his feet and roars forward, answering with a shoulder of his own that collides into her chest. The impact echoes, but she barely gives ground. She steps back in immediately and hammers him with a stiff elbow to the side of the head, then grabs his wrist and twists it sharply, bending the fingers back in a small joint manipulation that forces him to drop to one knee.
The referee steps in, warning her, starting a count.
She ignores him!
JR: Gorgo needs to watch out here: if she keeps cheating, the ref might DQ her!
JC: Yelena isn’t cheating to win: she’s just cheating for kicks and giggles! She’s just breaking Solomon’s fingers for fun- and there’s nothing wrong with that!
She wrenches the fingers further, then stomps down on his shoulder before releasing. Solomon pushes up quickly, shaking out his hand, but she is already on him again. Another heavy forearm. Another headbutt. She grabs his face and rakes at his mouth, fingers digging in, briefly pulling at the inside of his cheek before shoving him away.
He charges.
She meets him.
They crash together again, forearms colliding, bodies slamming into each other. Solomon muscles her backward this time, driving her into the corner. He unloads with short, brutal strikes to the body, digging into her ribs, then snaps her head back with an uppercut.
He grabs her and attempts to lift, but she widens her base and blocks it. She drives both hands into his face and shoves him back, then steps forward with a stiff lariat that catches him across the chest and forces him into the ropes.
He rebounds and swings again, but she steps inside and smashes another headbutt into his face. The sound is dull and sickening. He stumbles and she capitalizes, grabbing his arm and yanking him down into the mat with a rough takedown.
She immediately isolates the arm, wrenching it back at an unnatural angle. The referee drops down, checking, counting.
She ignores him again.
She cranks harder, shifting her weight and driving her knee into his shoulder while pulling on the arm. Solomon grits through it and rolls, using his size to power through the pressure. He forces himself up, dragging her with him, then lifts and slams her down with a heavy powerslam that shakes the ring.
Both competitors stay down for a moment.
Then they rise again.
Solomon gets to his feet first and pulls her up, hammering her with a forearm that staggers her back. He follows with another, then a third, backing her into the ropes. He whips her across the ring, and as she rebounds he plants her with a spinebuster that rattles the canvas!
He covers!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
Gorgo powers out, throwing him off with force.
JC: Kline almost caught her with that spinebuster!
JR: But close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, Jacquinde: because Gorgo’s still got some fight left in her!
Yelena sits up immediately, eyes locked, and rises without hesitation. Solomon steps in, but she cuts him off with a stiff elbow that snaps his head sideways. She grabs him by the head and drives another headbutt into his face, then another, then shoves him down to the mat.
She grabs his arm again.
Twists.
Pulls.
Solomon resists, trying to keep his base, but she drops her weight and drags him down, isolating the limb. She stomps his shoulder, then bends his wrist back, fingers twisted, forcing him to react. The referee warns again, counting, but she does not break until she chooses to.
She releases and immediately drives a knee into Kline’s side.
Then another!
Then she pulls him up and slams him back down with raw force, following him to the mat and grinding her forearm across his face. She digs her fingers in again, rough and deliberate, before dragging him back up.
JR: Yelena Gorgo is completely taking control of this match! Kline had his moments, but now, it’s all Gorgo!
JC: Solomon is going to have to kick it into overdrive if he wants to get back into this one!
Solomon fires back with a sudden burst, throwing a heavy right hand that connects clean. Then another. He grabs her and lifts, managing to hoist her up and drop her with a thunderous body slam. He follows with a running splash that crashes down across her chest!
He hooks the leg for a pin!
1!
2!!
She kicks out again, powering through before the ref can count to 3!!!
JC: Solomon Kline with the sudden burst of energy, but it still wasn’t enough! He needs to sustain it now!
JR: Easier said than done against Gorgo! She’s like a beast- NO-, she’s like a machine in there!
They both rise slower now, damage setting in.
Solomon swings.
Gorgo steps through it.
Another headbutt!
He stumbles backwards.
She grabs his arm.
This time she does not rush.
She drags him down, controlling the limb, stepping over and forcing him flat to the mat. She traps the arm tightly against her body, adjusting her grip with deliberate precision.
The referee drops down, already warning, already counting.
She ignores him completely.
She extends the arm.
Then she bridges!
Her hips drive upward violently, her body arching high into the air, lifting his shoulder off the mat. The pressure on the elbow is immediate and severe.
JR: BLACK RAINBOW! BLACK RAINBOW! Yelena Gorgo just locked in her signature submission move!
JC: This could be it, Joe! This could be it! If Kline doesn’t tap, she might just snap his arm into pieces!
Solomon thrashes, trying to roll, trying to relieve the pressure, but she adjusts with him, maintaining control, keeping the arm locked in place. The bridge rises higher, her body forming a steep, punishing arc as she wrenches back with everything she has.
The joint bends further!
Too far!
Solomon slams his free hand against the mat once.
Twice-
Then he taps rapidly, panic setting in as the pressure spikes!
The referee calls for the bell!
Winner and New Television Title #1 Contender: Yelena Gorgo
But Gorgo does not release the hold immediately.
She holds the bridge for a moment longer, forcing Solomon to feel it, forcing the damage to settle in. Only then does she drop back and release the arm.
Solomon rolls away, clutching his elbow, unable to get up.
Gorgo rises to her feet, expression unchanged, breathing steady, standing over him as the match ends with her hand raised in victory.
JR: What a dominant showing from Yelena Gorgo! She simply wanted it more: and she was hellbent on proving it to Kline!
JC: And prove it she did! Whoever walks away from March Madness as the TV champion had better watch out: cause Yelena Gorgo just sent everyone a message with this win tonight!
JC: Folks, we started with twenty-four competitors, all vying to be crowned the King of the XWF!
JR: It’s been the most hellacious road we’ve had, possibly in the history of March Madness! Triple-threat matches, spanning all over the globe, some of which took place in raging storms or raging fires! And the crown isn’t the only thing at stake here, Jacuinde!
JC: Very true, Joe! The man who leaves tonight with the crown on his head will also be leaving with the top prize in all of wrestling… The XWF Universal Title!
The show is quickly interrupted by the sound of a distant synthesizer, followed up by horses neighing and galloping through the dirt. It fades out, leading into the riff of a guitar strumming a fiery tune. There's an inherent electricity building within the solemn air of the chapel, culminating as the drums kick in. As they do, the steadfast figure of Scoops McGee comes out from the back, a look of no nonsense etched onto his face as he takes a long look at the crowd and the grounds of Ostrenhiensburg Chapel[
JC: Scoops McGee came inches… INCHES away! From winning the Universal Title at Snow Pain, Snow Gain! It was within his grasp!
JR: Close only counts in horseshoes and hitting your own face with a hammer to create a more defined jawline, Jacuinde!
JC: Fair enough, J-...wait, what?
JR: Point being, Scoops didn’t get the win! Kieran King did! With a perfectly timed kick to the nards that dropped Scoops to his knees… before Kieran dropped him on his head!
JC: But Scoops is still on his mission to claim his first world title in his four-decade long wrestling career! And he had one of the most challenging roads to reach this point…
JR: That’s true, Jacuinde! He had to beat Sebastian-Everett Bryce AND Gorgo! And then the very next show overcome Matthias Syn in the middle of a raging storm on a ship headed for the Strait of Hormuz!
JC: This is Scoops’ first time in the March Madness Final Four! He’s one match away from the Finals and another shot at the Universal Title! But to get there, he’s gotta go through a friend! A fellow House of Hardcore member! Can he get the job done tonight?
Scoops nods, steadily walking to the ring and absentmindedly high-fiving any fans stretching out their hands who happen to be right in his way. He makes his way over to ringside, climbing up the steps methodically and stepping onto the ring apron. He saunters about halfway across the apron, taking one last long look at the crowd as they give their reception to the seasoned vet. Scoops stretches his arms out wide, accepting everything they've got to give before stepping into the ring.
Scoops skulks over to his corner, pacing there and doing some small stretches to keep himself warmed up before the match begins.
…
The lights die without warning. Not a fade, but a full blackout that sucks the air out of the chapel like the calm before a fire. Then, a strobing light, lime green, flares beneath the metal of the floor. Another, quicker and sharper. A third, holding longer now. Long enough for the crowd to catch a glimpse of the static forming on the screen overhead.
JC: Dickie Watson! The SOLE SURVIVOR of the 2024 War Games! The man who left one of the most hellacious War Games to ever be waged! And he escaped the Universal champion!
JR: And went on to have one of the losingest runs as champ in the history of the belt!
JC: I doubt you did your research to substantiate that claim, Joe, but Dickie certainly took a few lumps while wielding the belt… He was pinned by Centurion, Charlie Nickles… and went out second of four in an elimination match with his Universal Title on the line!
JR: Eliminated by his opponent tonight, Jacuinde! His so-called friend!
JC: Dickie harbors no ill-will against Scoops, Joe! Both these men have nothing but the utmost respect for each other… But ever since losing the belt, Dickie… the man dedicated to the climb above all else… has climbed the mountain ever faster! He went through Betsy Granger, Apathy AND Jenny Myst! All in top form! And is now just two matches away from a shot at becoming a TWO-time Universal champion!
JR: And he’s just gotta beat Scoops to do it! He beat Scoops just a few months ago with the TV Title on the line!
JC: But as you mentioned, Joe, Scoops very recently pinned Dickie in an elimination match! These two men have wrestled on the same side and won War Games together! These two men have faced off and traded victories back and forth! But it all comes down to this night!
The distorted bass of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the speaker system installed in the chapel… low, grinding and industrial. It doesn't start like music, but more like a warning. Like the hum of something broken beneath concrete.The speakers rattle, and with them the crowd begins to stir as the opening continues to play, rhythmic and angry. Noise from the crowd rolls through like a cold draft in a sealed room, a few cheers, a few chants. But mostly unease.
"Do I love you? Or do I hate you?
Can I trust you without failing you?
Gonna tell you what the secret is...
You're number one on my DEATHLIST."
Whispered, the lyric doesn't rise above the crowd but cuts under it, precise and personal. The music drops out completely, not a fade, and not a glitch, just the same as the lights as they die out entirely. But then, detonation as the bass slams back in without warning, twisted and violent, louder than before. Strobe lights erupt in a manic wash of toxic green, casting sharp, flickering shadows across the sate. It's disorienting, like a spotlight wielded as a weapon. Motionless in that moment, Dickie Watson stands framed in light. No grand pose, no war cry, hair falling in his face and shoulders loose like a man who doesn't need to prove he belongs here -- he already knows he does.
He holds this, eyes floating over everyone, and then moves a beat later. Not with urgency, not with showmanship. Just steps forward like the rest of the world is moving slower than him. He doesn't look to the sides, doesn't soak it in. He's not here for the moment, he's here for the thrill. Every movement is precise, like a blade being unsheathed. Quiet, measured. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, eyes still glancing off to the side, turning his head slightly to acknowledge fans and enemies alike. At the barricade, he reaches out and slaps a few hands not necessarily out of respect, but more of obligation. These are the people who kept him alive for so long, and what he does this for.
He rounds the corner to right, bypasses the steps, and jumps, both feet hitting the steps of the chapel in one clean lift. Without pause, he slings himself over the top and lands near the dead center of the ring, bent knees taking the brunt of his leap. He circles the ring once, loose-limbed, cracking his neck slightly, and stops. Near the far corner, he crouches with his elbows on his knees, fingers dangling inbetween as his music fades.
…
The broken wall of the chapel obscures the castle ruin looming in the distance, the remains of Ostrheinsburg Castle…
CAN THE HOUSE OF HARDCORE WITHSTAND WAR WITHIN ITS WALLS?!?
The bell rings!
Ostrenhiensburg Chapel
SEMI FINAL
Scoops McGee
- vs -
Dickie Watson One Fall
Victory can be obtained by Pinfall, Submission, KO, or Ring-Out!
HIGHTLIGHT REEL
The two stand-off quietly… Even amidst the crowd, the solemnity of the chapel ruins creates an eerie silence in this moment.
…
JR: Eerie.
Both men take a step forward to each other…
And shake hands!
JC: A showing of sportsmanship here between House of Hardcore members!
JR: Booooooo! Respect isn’t hardcore at all!
Both men are gruff, no smile between the two, but it’s apparent that this is a contest between athletes, not a grudge match…
They back up a step and start to circle…
Breaking the silence is a low rumble in the crowd, vibrating with anticipation!
JC: You can feel how important this moment is to both these men! How both men want this chance at the Universal Title! Dickie, for another shot at the top of the mountain! Scoops to stand atop it for the first time!
JR: But only one can be there at the top, Jacuinde! And they both have to throw the other off to get there!
They step in for the first lock-up.
Scoops’ forearms clench with an iron grip, eager to take control from the first moment Dickie grimaces, letting Scoops take that position of power, the grapple above… as he lets Scoops tower, his eyes calculate.
Dickie leans back, allowing Scoops to use his strength against himself. Scoops presses forward, thinking he’s driving momentum — his mouth curls upward, teeth bared in brief satisfaction — but Dickie slips under, pivoting and snapping into a quick waistlock!
JC: Expert move there by Dickie!
Scoops huffs through his nose, a gruff exhale betraying his surprise. He lowers his base, shoving back seeking to slam Dickie against the wall of a chapel!
JC: Reminiscent of their meeting for the TV title here, Joe!
Scoops drives Dickie backwards… but Dickie slips around the side, avoiding being crushed into a chapel wall! As Scoops backs into the wall, Dickie converts to a side headlock!
The older man’s breathing grows audible — a scoff…. Followed by a grunt of effort! Scoops latches his arms around Dickie’s waist!
JC: Oh! Scoops trying to use his size advantage on Dickie here!
Scoops wrenches Dickie up for a…
Back suplex!
…
But Dickie rolls in Scoops’s arms, looking to cross-body him to the stone floor of the chapel!
JR: Dickie Watson is the ultimate counter-puncher! He’ll take moves you’ve done a thousand times and find exactly the weak point to turn it his way!
Dickie goes to collapse Scoops in mid-air!
…But Scoops keeps his footing!
AND FALLAWAY SLAMS DICKIE up and over!
JC: Wow! The sheer strength of Scoops McGee there!
Dickie goes tumbling, managing to roll with the toss… Visibly hurt, but quickly up to his feet… Dickie returns to a vertical base, stretching his arms and legs, ready to take advantage of his physical versatility…
Meanwhile… Scoops’ chest is already heaving from that exertion… Before lifting that infamous left arm, rotates it slowly, almost like he’s stretching out his weapon… readying it…
JC: The vibes between these two are crazy, Joe!
JR: This match isn’t for the Universal title, but the energy right now… This feels like this is the only thing happening in the world right now!
JC: For these two men and for the millions of fans watching!
The competitors circle again. Scoops lunges first — big, lumbering, but still sharp — seeking another grapple, but Dickie side-steps and fires off a low kick to the thigh. Thwack. Scoops grits his teeth, blinking once, quick and annoyed. His knee wobbles slightly, stretching his leg…
JC: Dickie trying to chop down on Scoops’ vertical base in the early-going!
JR: Dickie knows Scoops is a redwood… the oldest one in the forest! And you don’t bring down a redwood with one strike… it’s a thousand little chops! Each one making that unfellable tree just a little easier to bring down!
Scoops surges forward with another grapple… Dickie side-steps again, looking for another punishing kick, this one to Scoops’s knee!
…But Scoops catches Dickie’s leg this time! Before Dickie can even react, Scoops pulls Dickie forward into a…
TEXAS LARIAT!
…No! Dickie ducks the wild lariat Scoops throws, slides behind, grabs the waist again — quick rollup attempt, drawing Scoops down onto his shoulders!
ONE!
T-Nope, Scoops forces himself up! The two both try to rise in a tangled heap, Scoops having Dickie from behind and catching Dickie with a forearm to the back!
JC: You can feel the desperation both these men feel! There’s no room for technical grace! No sense in letting your opponent breath for even a moment! These two both have so much respect for each other, they know if they want to win, they can’t let the other men have even a second to think!
JR: So, they’re both just thinking… Attack! Attack! Attack!/white]
Scoops grabs Dickie by the scalp from behind, clubbing Watson about the ears and the back of the head with some Texas Tough forearms!
[white]JC: Scoops showing off his strong-style experience in Japan! He’s getting very physical with Dickie out there!
JR: He’s beating Dickie like Dickie’s some kind of alternative, electrogoth piñata!
Dickie forces his arms around his head, shielding and withstanding Scoops’s strikes as best he can!
Scoops reels back for a knockout blow, attempting to drop Dickie to the stone floor from behind… but with precise timing, Dickie throws a wild elbow, trying to catch Scoops in the eye!
…No! Scoops ducks it! Dickie surges forward, they bounce chest-to-chest as Scoops wraps Dickie in another grapple!
JC: Wow! It feels like both these men have been studying the other’s style! Watching as much game tape as possible! It feels like they both know what the other guy is gonna do before they do it!
Scoops tries to yank Dickie into a front-face lock.. Pulling him up for a…
Vertical Suplex!
…No! Dickie manages to kick his legs in the air enough to break Scoops’ attempted lift! Dickie’s feet hit the ground…
AND IN A FLASH COUNTER, Dickie spins Scoops in his own front-facelock, dragging him to the ground neck first!
NECKBREAKER!
JC: OUCH!
JR: That’d be devastating to a young competitor, Jacuinde! Now, Scoops has fallen! And at his age, will he even be able to get back up![/white
Dickie crawls into a cover over McGee…
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO! Scoops forces the shoulder up… And as Dickie pushes back up to one knee… Scoops is already sitting up, favoring that neck… but refusing to stay down…
[white]JC: Looks like Scoops still has life in him yet, Joe!
Dickie manages to beat Scoops up to a vertical base… And clubs him with a forearm across the top of his skull!
A second! A third!
Scoops shakes his head, beckoning Dickie on… Begging for another!
JC: Scoops has literally eaten so many of Dickie’s rights, he’s begging for a left!
JR: Scoops has been in the ring so long, he’s taken so many vicious strikes, I think it’s familiar taking a fist to the face!
Dickie backs up, looking for a knockout overhand right hook!
…But Scoops surges forward, slipping past Dickie’s punch…
Aaaaaand!
WHAM! Cattle Prod straight to the chest!
The crowd pops! Scoops’ left hand penetrates Dickie’s guard and catches him, stinging right above the heart!
Dickie drops to one knee! Scoops charges forward, wrapping his arms around Dickie’s shoulder aaaaand…
ARM DDT! Scoops PLANTS Dickie’s arm against the stone floor! Dickie cradles his aching arm, face seared with pain!
JC: Ouch! That move looked devastating!
JR: Scoops knows how much of Dickie’s offense involves those intricate grapples and fancy gripwork for those counters… Scoops trying to strip the weapons out of Dickie’s repertoire, one at a time!
As Dickie still cradles his arm to his chest, Scoop shoves Dickie onto his back and drives an elbow against his chest to keep him down!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO! Dickie shoves Scoops off!
Scoops has pulled Dickie off the floor and is seeking a side headlock, designed to set Dickie up for another high impact move..
But Dickie rotates his footing and goes to secure a waistlock from behind Scoops!
…Scoops, desperate to avoid letting Dickie snap off something quick, throws a wild elbow!
Dickie ducks it!
Dickie goes for another low kick to Scoops leg!
It connects!
Scoops drops to a knee!
Dickie charges in, looking to follow up the opening with a…
SUPERKICK!
…
But Scoops manages to side-step it! He latches his arms around Dickie’s body and…
HUCKS HIM!
BEAL TOSS STRAIGHT ONTO THE STONE FLOOR!
JR: Oh my God! This one is getting vicious! Are we sure these two are actually friends?!?
JC: They definitely are! And I don’t think either man would forgive the other if they didn’t give this match their all!
Dickie rolls… cradling his ribs as he sits up… The exhaustion is starting to set in, as he climbs up to one knee…
Scoops is ready… his left arm set! He goes for a knockout…
CATTLE PROD!
…But no! This time, Dickie slips under it, catches the arm, and rolls Scoops through into a surprise…
CRUCIFIX PIN!
JC: Dickie looking to out-technique Scoops! Just like he tried in their TV title match!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO!
Scoops powers out like a shot, muscles coiling and exploding upward!
JC: And once more, Scoops manages to avoid the match getting stolen from him!
Dickie shifts his stance, leaning slightly right to bait Scoops’ left swing…
JC: We’ve seen this before, Joe! Dickie is daring Scoops to throw that cattle prod!
JR: For anyone else, it’d be a suicide attempt! But Dickie’s such a counter-puncher… so confident in hacking his opponent’s offense… he seems confident that Scoops over-relying on that cattle prod isn’t doom for Dickie… it’s his providence! His secret to victory!
Scoops lunges with a sharp, whipping forearm — a movement almost too fast for his size.
In response, Dickie spins low, sweeping Scoops’ legs with a calculated leg hook. Scoops grunts, stumbling back… but keeping his footing! Scoops, since Dickie is still in close quarters, tries to dip low, wrapping his arms around Dickie’s waist for some sort of back body drop…
But Dickie lifts a knee, catching Scoops in the face! Scoops staggers backwards a step and a half…
Dickie chases it… possibly looking for a side-grapple!
JC: Oh my! Dickie’s trying to secure that hold he needs for a Dickie’s Revenge!
…But when Dickie goes for the grapple, Scoops as quick as a reflex responds, firing off a spinning backfist! It connects with Dickie’s jaw!
Dickie bounces backward, blinking rapidly… His stance lowers, knees flexing, hands raised just enough to bait or block. His face hardens, eyes locking onto Scoops’ forearm, raised once more…
Scoops explodes forward, that infamous left forearm snapping across in a brutal arc...
But Dickie ducks low, letting the motion sail harmlessly above him, then rolls forward and pivots — grabbing Scoops’ waist in a lightning-fast cradle for a pin attempt!
ONE!
Nope! Scoops kicks out immediately, body convulsing slightly as he lands chest-first on the mat.
JC: Another quick pin attempt from Dickie! But Scoops is getting faster and faster responding to them!
JR: That might be what Dickie wants, Jacuinde! Each one of those quick kickouts might be sapping a little more fuel from Scoops McGee! The longer this battle rages on… The more it might benefit Dickie Watson!
JC: I might disagree with you there, Joe! Remember Scoops’ big victory against SEB was one he won by outlasting SEB! By stretching the fight out and digging deeper and deeper!
Dickie stands above Scoops, calculating his next move…
Scoops’ rises slowly, brushing off the mat, hands on knees briefly as he exhales through his nose!
Scoops surges forward, looking for another grapple!
…But Watson delivers a quick, snapping kick to Scoops’ knee. The sound echoes — thwack! Scoops’ body jerks instinctively, eyes widening briefly.
JC: Nope! Dickie’s speed advantage is making itself known here!
JR: It’s not just speed, Jacuinde! Dickie’s not just physically fast, he’s also mentally fast! Scoops tried to catch Watson off-guard, but the exact right strike to stop Scoops in his tracks just popped, fully formed, into Dickie’s mind!
Scoops falls back onto one knee… Dickie zips behind him with a hammerlock, then threads back in front of him…
HAMMERLOCK SUPLEX!
JC: Wow! Technically beautiful maneuver there!
JR: Technically beautiful and physically devastating! Just like the apron is the hardest part of the ring, that stone floor is the hardest part of the chapel!
Scoops cradles his spine… his body thrumming in agony as Dickie floats over into a cover, hooking the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO! Scoops forces the shoulder up!
JC: Wow! Incredible endurance there by Scoops McGee!
As Scoops kicks out, Dickie rolls backwards onto his feet, chest heaving… lips pursed in thought…
JR: Dickie’s out there trying to figure out what part of Scoops he’s gotta break to get the win here…
JC: Unless he can reach into Scoops’ chest and shut off that man’s heart, Scoops ain’t got one lick of quit in him!
Scoops, looking like he’s running on fumes, struggles to even reach his knees…
JR: I think Scoops is running out of steam… The man who’s turned back the clock so many times in his career… It’s looking right now like Father Time has rusted that clock stiff…
Dickie, not taking victory for granted for a sudden, zips forward to finish Scoops off…
But Scoops accelerates at the same time Watson does! Scoops lunges through Dickie’s stride… AND HEADBUTTS DICKIE IN THE CENTER OF HIS SKULL!! Dickie gets taken off his feet!
JC: Holy SHIT! What a strike by Scoops McGee! That move was straight out of his days in Korakuen Hall as the Psycho-Tearer!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Dickie hits the stone floor hard… his marbles thoroughly mixed after that vicious headbutt from McGee…
McGee, not looking unscathed from that strike himself, collapses back on his ass… Before shoving himself forward and dropping an arm over Dickie!
JC: That could have done it right there!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO!
Dickie forces a shoulder up!
And the Holy Shit chants only get louder!
JC: Wow! Do both these men remember they have a whole ‘nother fight tonight if they WIN this match?
JR: I don’t think either of these guys is thinking about anything besides how to keep their opponent down for the count? They both know if they let up for even a second, that’s all their opponent needs!
…Scoops shakes his head, before trying to crawl on top of Dickie to lay on some mounted punches… But Dickie rolls himself away, quickly climbing back to a vertical base on jelly legs…
JC: Dickie continually trying to frustrate Scoops’ offensive efforts! Trying to break his momentum before he can chain too many moves in a row!
The two are back up right… Though clearly slower at this point… Exhaustion and persistent pain apparent in the way they move…
JC: It’s been a war thus far… Both these men have taken body shots, head shots and high-impact moves!
JR: But neither has had their will to win taken from them!
Dickie goes for a low jab to the gut…
Scoops reacts instantly, stepping in to block, forearm snapping up instinctively.
…But it was a feint! Dickie ducks low, rolling forward and popping up behind Scoops, following it up by driving a quick elbow into Scoops’ lower back!
Scoops spins, shoulders coiling, and launches a stiff, snapping left forearm across Dickie’s chest!
SPINNING CATTLE PROD!
JC: WOW! Have we ever seen Scoops hit a Cattle Prod with torque? How is this man still innovating four decades into the game!
It looks like the life in Dickie’s eyes flickers… He drops to one knee…
Scoops staggers backwards off his own strike… but he uses the space for a wind-up… He surges forward, forearm twitching for another big strike…
CATTLE PROD!
…
BUT DICKIE DUCKS! He rolls under with a somersault!
Dickie and Scoops both spin at the same time toward each other! And they both charge in!
Scoops switches it up, looking for a second…
HEADBUTT!
…But this time Dickie sidesteps, catches Scoops around the neck!
RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP! Taking Scoops down to the stone floor!
JC: OUCH! That’s gotta do it! Scoops’s neck has gotta be outta cartilage after getting dropped on his skull this many times!
Dickie hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOO! Again, Scoops kicks out at the count of two!
JC: No way!
The crowd is absolutely electric, buzzing with excitement as Dickie sits up… head in his hands… still trying to solve the puzzle that is keeping Scoops McGee down…
Scoops is on the floor, breathing heavily… body draped in sweat…
Dickie grabs him by the scalp and goes to force him back to his feet…
Scoops, with two hands, shoves Dickie backwards a step! Dickie maintains his footing, refusing to give Scoops any recovery time!
But Scoops follows the shove by lunging forward!
RUNNING HIP ATTACK! Scoops slams his side into Dickie’s torso with calculated force!
Dickie stumbles back, eyes widening, head jerking slightly from the impact…
JC: Dickie manages to withstand Scoops’s hip! Somehow, he’s still standing after that!
JR: Standing after that!?! Ask yourself this, Jacuinde! How the hell is Dickie still standing after Scoops almost headbutted his skull off his neck! How is Scoops still standing after that Russian Leg Sweep? Because both of these men know if they stop standing up, the dream dies here! And they will give anything to keep the dream alive!
…For a moment, neither move, a few feet apart…
The crowd surges to their feet, applauding both men, sensing that we’re reaching a climax!
…Scoops snorts at Dickie, not with any anger, but the knowing exhaustion of a man who's been in these moments before….
Dickie offers a nod of acknowledgment…
…Then, they both move in!
Dickie goes for a lock up with McGee… Scoops lunges suddenly, catching with a short-arm clothesline, knocking him into a stagger sideways…. Dickie looks rocked… But he turns on a dime, staying right in McGee’s grill!
JC: Dickie Watson refuses to stop clawing! Refuses to stop making McGee work for every inch on this battlefield!
As Dickie urges back towards him Scoops charges, full intent behind the left forearm — and Dickie sidesteps, pivoting behind him, hooking his waist in a roll-up attempt!
But this time Scoops keeps his footing! Kick to Dickie’s chest!
Dickie somersaults backwards… Exhausted, but he charges forward at Scoops once more!
…But this time Scoops is ready to catch him with a…
SPINNING POWERSLAM!
JC: OH MY GOD! That HAD to do it!
…Scoops’ chest heaves exhaustedly… The crowd screaming…
McGee crawls ontop of Watson and hooks both legs!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NOOOOOOO! DICKIE KICKS OUT!
JC: HOW? HOW?!?!
Scoops draws a thumb across his throat as Watson tries to fight back to a vertical base… but his legs won’t cooperate… When Dickie tries to stand with one, the other seems to collapse under him…
JC: Scoops is gonna do it! He’s calling for the Dynamite Bomb!
He shoves him between his legs!
Scoops scoops Dickie up onto his shoulders! The crowd rises to their feet!
DYNAMITE B-
…NOPE! Dickie slips off the back!
Scoops spins around! As Dickie scoops him off his feet for…
…Dickie rolls onto his back… Both men look absolutely spent…
Dickie, with determination in his eyes, turns over and crawls arm over arm…
Until he’s ontop of McGee…
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
SCOOPS
KICKS
OUT!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Both men lie in the ring exhausted!
JC: This is absolutely insane! How is this one going to end?!?
JR: WIth one of these men in a body bag, maybe!
Dickie Watson staggers to his feet, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his temples. His jaw is tight, eyes blazing, pupils locked on Scoops McGee, who’s just barely rising from the chapel floor himself…
The crowd is a cacophony of cheers, sensing the final showdown — this is it.
Dickie feints a jab to Scoops’ midsection!
Scoops instinctively lifts the left forearm to block, chest heaving, jaw tight!
Dickie pivots sharply, and launches a high knee to Scoops’ chest. Scoops stumbles back…
Dickie wastes no time. He runs toward Scoops, ducking under a wild forearm, and hooks him under the arms for a…
DICKIE’S REV-
NO! Scoops smacks down on Dickie’s arm, scooping him into the air…
BIG SCOOP!
BIG SCOOP!
BIG SCOOP!
JC: Oh my God! Scoops hits it!
Scoops collapses ontop of Dickie exhaustedly!
ONE!
TWO!
Dickie forces a shoulder up!
…
AFTER THE THREE!
Winner and Advancing to the March Madness Final: Scoops McGee
JC: He did it! Scoops McGee did it! Dickie Watson pulled out everything he had! He left it all on the mat… er, chapel! But, Scoops McGee pulls it off! And he’s headed to the March Madness Final!
JC:Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to see the first of TWO matches tonight that will both have the Universal Title on the line! We are deep within the ruins of Ostrheinsburg Castle for the March Madness Semi-Finals! And somehow that feels appropriate for Micheal Graves."
JR: Dude, this place looks like a medieval murder dungeon. That guy thrives in environments like this!
The opening riff to "Song for the Dead" by Queens of the Stone Age kicks in. At the 37 second mark, the name "Asher Hayes" blares through the PA system, and Asher KICKS open the castle’s front door, wearing a long leather jacket, his face full of focus. He bows down for a few moments before standing up straight, throwing both fists in the air, before making his way towards the second floor.
JC: At the start of the tournament, there was a running joke among the more skeptical of the XWF roster… ‘Who the fuck is Asher Hayes’? But Asher Hayes has responded by DOMINATING the first two rounds of March Madness!
JR: Absolutely, Jacuinde! He devastated El Landerson and Latoya Hixx in the first round! And then made the Surgeon of Thuganomics John Blade look like an intern! Hayes has shown the XWF Universe exactly who the fuck he is!
JC: It’s unheard of, Joe! That someone in just their third XWF match could win the Universal title… But if anyone could… you’ve gotta think it might be Asher Hayes! But he’s gotta go through the most blood-thirsty, desperate Universal champion… possibly in the entire history of the belt!
“It's late enough to go driving
And see what's mine
Life's the study of dying
How to do it right"
He makes his way up the castle stairs as the reaction of the crowd rains down upon him. He walks up the stairs and stands above the dining hall, lifting both fists into the air, slinging the jacket off his shoulders, simply looking at the crowd before dropping down and running to the opposite side.
“You're a holy roller
If you bettin' to lose
If you're hanging around
I'm holding the noose"
He stands, once again, on the top rope. His expression remains focused as he looks toward the ceiling, before dropping down, removing his jacket and handing his belongings to the ref.
“Ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah, ah, ah, ah
Come a little bit closer
And get untied
In a hearse rolling over
Just a track in the line
Fuck it..."
Asher then leans into the wall, waiting for the match to begin.
…
Green lasers scatter across the castle.
Graves steps through the curtain. His head tilts, his jaw clenches, and he just stands there.
The drums kick in.
The lights sweep the arena in a blast of lime and purple.
Graves starts up the stairs in no hurry.
Fans reach out to him.
He doesn't acknowledge them.
JR: And here he is! The man who shocked the world! Who found a way to STOP Kieran King’s destiny… Killing the dream of the three-peat for King King Kieran King!
JC: I might call that a slight overstatement, Joe! After all, it took the combined efforts of Graves *and* Samael Dyson to eliminate Kieran King from the match… But you can’t deny the result! Micheal Graves, for the first time in his lengthy XWF career, is the Universal champion!
JR: But if he wants to keep it, Jacuinde? He’s gotta defend it twice in one night… And neither of them are gonna be cakewalks! Asher Hayes is one of the toughest opponents anyone could imagine across the entire wrestling industry! Can Graves even make it to the final considering Asher Hayes is standing in his way?
The cameras catch quick cuts on the XTron of Graves smashing faces, laughing mid-beating, spraying mist, weapons, blood, ugly mayhem.
He reaches the ring. Stops. Looks around. Then he slides in under the ropes, stands up slow just as the song hits—
♪ IT'S YOUR FUCKIN' NIGHTMARE ♪
Graves backs into his corner, sliding his cape off his shoulders tossing it aside.
He cracks his neck once and stares across the ring as the music fades.
…
The torches that line the interior corridors of Ostrheinsburg Castle flicker against ancient stone walls blackened by centuries of smoke and violence. Broken banners hang like ghosts from cracked battlements overhead. Moss creeps through the mortar between stones where once soldiers stood watch.
Micheal Graves’ face stretches into a jagged grin, yellowed teeth flashing beneath a curtain of greasy hair. His eyes dart around the ruined chamber like a rat scouting for exits. His shoulders twitch with manic excitement as if the air itself tastes like blood. The Universal Champion raises his hands theatrically, inviting violence.
Across from him—
Asher Hayes’ brow lowers in quiet concentration. His shoulders roll slowly as he loosens the tension in his spine, one hand subtly drifting to the small of his back before he forces it away. His eyes study Graves with the calm of a man who has wrestled in every environment imaginable.
Graves’ grin widens as his fingers twitch like claws. Suddenly his expression sharpens into ugly determination and he lunges forward—
—only to suddenly swing his arm outward like he’s going for a handshake.
JC: Unexpected! It looks like Graves is… possibly inspired from the sportsmanship in the semifinals match that preceded this one between Dickie and Scoops? He wants to shake Asher Hayes’ hand!
JR: The “alleged” Micheal Graves… the one who held the Anarchy title for over a year… the one that Micheal Graves seems to have in mind as he’s gone on this miraculous run that’s led him to the Universal title… He seemed to show respect to opponents he felt were also trapped under the corporate thumb! It’s possible Gravy is trying to emulate that “alleged” Graves!
JC: Gravy emulating the “Gravy” that emulated Gravy! Gravy-ception!
…Hayes eyes the champ up-and-down… As if trying to gauge him…
Graves puts a hand to his chest, as if offended Hayes would think his handshake is anything but earnest…
Hayes exhales, before extending to partake in a pre-match shake…
JC: There we go, sportsmansh-
But the moment Hayes instinctively reaches forward, Graves’ eyes light up with malicious delight as his other hand snaps upward toward Hayes’ face—
Green mist already swelling in his cheeks.
JR: OH SHIT!
JC: Ohhh Graves’s already trying the mist! This gave him the momentary advantage over Samael Dyson to win the Uni![/white]
Hayes’ eyes widen in immediate recognition. His jaw tightens, and instead of recoiling he violently slaps both hands onto Graves’ cheeks—
CLAP!
Forcing Graves’ mouth shut.
The green mist sprays uselessly out the sides of his lips like a punctured soda can.
JR: What a counter from Asher Hayes!
JC: If Graves wants to trick his way into a victory over Asher, he’s gonna need to dig a little deeper than the first few pages of the book of wrestling tricks! Asher Hayes knows every trick in the book! In fact, He wrote a good chunk of them!
Graves sputters and coughs violently, eyes watering as his own mist burns the edges of his mouth. His face twists into furious embarrassment as he wipes slime from his chin.
Hayes’ lips curl into the faintest smirk.
And before Graves can recover—
Hayes grabs a wrist.
Twists.
And smoothly transitions the hold into a hammerlock, wrenching Graves’ arm high behind his back.
JC: And Asher Hayes secures the first wrestling hold of the match!
Graves’ grin collapses into a snarl as pain shoots through his shoulder. His body hunches instinctively as he tries to relieve the torque.
But Hayes’ eyes narrow with calculation.
The moment Graves leans forward—
Hayes hooks the trapped arm deeper.
Then yanks him downward—
HAMMERLOCK INTO A SINGLE-ARM DDT!
CRACK.
Graves’ skull bounces off the ancient stone floor of the ruined castle.
Dust erupts around them.
JC: Asher Hayes wasting no time asserting control!
Asher, with athleticism that’s astonishing considering his career longevity… KIPS up to his feet over the champ!
Hayes wraps his mitts around the back of Graves’s skull, trying to pull him back up to a vertical base…
Graves’ eyes roll as he clutches his head, stunned.
But even in pain—
His mouth twists into another crooked smile.
In a flash, Graves throws his leg upward toward Hayes’ groin!
LOW BLOW!
JC: Oho! Graves is reaching into Kieran King’s bag of tricks! Graves has meticulously kept records on the opponents he’s beaten in his ascent and he’s going for the trick that made Kieran so dominant as Universal champion!
JR: Graves is like a villain in a children’s cartoon sometimes, Jacuinde! All he’s missing is a pencil mustache and a black ca-...Wait, he has a black cape already!
…But Hates twists his hips sideways—
And catches Graves’ boot!
…Graves looks up at Hayes… his crooked grin looking a little bashful, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar…
Hayes exhales impatiently…
Fine.
Then we do it the ugly way.
His fingers tighten around Graves’ wrist as he hauls the champion back to his feet—
But Graves’ eyes flash with sudden feral determination.
His face twists with pure violent glee.
And he suddenly lunges forward—
HEADBUTT!
CRACK.
JC: Oh my GOD! What a vicious strike there by Graves!
The skull-to-skull collision echoes off the castle walls.
Both men stagger.
Hayes’ eyes shut momentarily as he absorbs the shock.
Graves, however—
Starts laughing.
Blood already trickling down his forehead.
JR: Haha, oh my god, Graves is a psychopath, I fucking love it.
Graves wipes the blood across his face like war paint and suddenly lunges forward again—
Swinging a massive HEAVY-HANDED BITCH SLAP toward Hayes’ jaw!
JC: Graves has the best striking hands in the business!
But Hayes’ expression suddenly sharpens.
Years of ring awareness firing in his brain.
His body drops low—
The slap whistles harmlessly over his head.
And Hayes explodes upward—
BOOT TO THE STOMACH!
Graves doubles over, staggering backwards against the railing of the castle’s second floor!
But Asher follows up with a…
RUNNING LARIAT!
WHAM!
Graves goes over…
And latches onto Hayes’s shoulder!
JC: Oh God!
The two men go up and over the railing on the second floor!
Hayes clings onto the stone… but his grip slips! He drops through the air, clinging onto a wall tapestry to slow his descent, before landing on his back with a thud!
Graves is in full-on free-fall, slamming against the side of the stairs before landing on his side and bashing into the wall, before landing on his side with a painful thud!
JC: Ooof, there was stone in those impacts… And maybe some metal! I think Graves landed on his keys there!
JR: Those keys are the hardest part of his pockets!
JC: A wild way to start this match, with both competitors dropping a story and a half onto the castle’s first floor!
JR: It may not look like it right now, but Graves just took a big advantage! He drops off things for fun, like all the time! Asher’s already doomed!
Graves lies crumpled against the base of the stone stairwell, chest heaving, one hand clutching his ribs while the other fumbles blindly through the debris for something—anything—he can use.
Across the ruined floor—
Asher Hayes groans as he rolls off his back, one hand instinctively grabbing at the small of his spine. His face twists in pain for just a moment… before the veteran forces the expression away. His jaw tightens. His breathing steadies.
He pushes himself upright.
Both men turn over slowly and lock eyes…
Hayes exhales slowly through his nose.
The look on his face says everything.
Enough games.
He steps forward.
JC: Hayes clearly wants to wrestle this match straight-up, Joe. He thinks he’s the better man in a pure fight.
JR: And honestly he probably is! But Graves didn’t get to where he is today doing what his opponent wants! And what Graves wants is a no-rules, street fight in a haunted castle!
Graves’ head slowly tilts upward, his greasy hair hanging across his face like wet ropes. Blood trickles down his brow as his eyes flick toward Hayes approaching through the torchlight.
Graves watches Hayes close the distance, as he shoves his way back to a vertical base…
The champion’s lips curl again… an insidious smile across his lips!
As Hayes approaches, Graves…
…
Graves scrambles backward on all fours like a feral animal.
Then suddenly turns and bolts down a nearby stone hallway.
JC: And Graves retreats!
JR: Dude he’s turning the castle into a jungle gym!
JC: If this were a traditional wrestling match, Hayes might win by a count-out if Graves takes to the hills… but here, Hayes needs to pin, submit, knock-out or ring-out Graves to advance to the next round… and win the Universal title!
Hayes stops for half a second as he watches the Universal champion skitter off down a hallway…
His brow furrows.
Then he simply sighs.
And walks after him.
Footsteps echo through the ruined corridor as Hayes moves carefully down the narrow hall. Dust crunches under his boots as broken stones scatter across the floor.
JC: It looks like Hayes let Graves out of his sight!
JR: It’s a long one-way hallway, Hayes just has to keep following the champ and he’ll run into him!
His eyes scan the darkness ahead.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then—
From around a corner—
Graves suddenly lunges out like a trap snapping shut!
BACK ELBOW!
CRACK!
The blow smashes into Hayes’ jaw and sends him staggering sideways into the castle wall.
JR: THERE IT IS!
Graves cackles wildly as he grabs Hayes by the head—
And SLAMS his skull against the stone!
THUD!
Then again!
THUD!
JC: Graves using classic hallway fight tactics here!
Hayes slumps against the wall, momentarily stunned.
Graves’ grin widens as he drags Hayes by the collar deeper into the hallway—
Before suddenly exploding forward—
RUNNING BULLDOG!
SMASH!
Hayes’ face plants violently into the ancient stone floor.
Graves immediately scrambles over him for a pin!
ONE!
T—
Hayes violently kicks out.
Graves sits up instantly, eyes wide with manic delight.
JC: Quick early pin here from the Universal champion!
JR: He’s trying to wear Hayes down! Trying to infuriate and exhaust him! And thus far, it’s working!
Graves scampers onto Hayes, looking to take a mounted position and start clubbing Hayes with punches and forearms…
Suddenly, Hayes’s arms surge forward, grappling Graves, trying to wrap him in his mitts!
JC: Oh, here we go! Hayes looking to secure a submission hold on Graves! Maybe a gogoplata or an arm bar!
Graves responds by twisting his whole body away from Hayes, clawing and scratching like a feral animal!
Hayes tries clinging onto Graves… But Graves’ greasy form slips out… Hayes narrowly catches Graves by the heel, trying to drag him back…
But Graves kicks like a bucking bronco, breaking Hayes’ grip! And again he scampers on all fours, further down the hallway!
JC: This is possibly the strangest Universal title match in years!
JR: Would you expect anything else from Micheal Graves!?!
Hayes exhales slowly as he pushes himself back up.
His face tightens slightly… His hands weave through his hair, frustration palpable in his expression.
He rolls his shoulders once.
Then starts walking again.
JC: Hayes is finally coming to understand what Graves is after… This isn’t a match. It’s a hunt!
JR: But who’s hunting who, Jacuinde?!?
Hayes approaches another hallway…
Another intersection…
Another blind turn through the ancient castle.
His brow furrows in thought.
JC: Hayes knows there’s risk in every corner he can’t see around, so long as Micheal Graves is also prowling these halls…
…Hayes exhales… stepping forward slowly, taking the utmost caution…
He peeks around one corner…
…But as the camera turns with Hayes… we see Graves is behind him!
JC: Oh no! Hayes picked wrong!
The champion’s fingers twitch.
He waits…
Hayes finishes checking the side… He spins around…
As Graves springs forward like a linebacker!
JC: Hayes is a sitting duck!
SPEAR!
But Hayes’ veteran reflexes kick in!
At the last possible second he nimbly LEAPFROGS over!
And Graves’ shoulder CRASHES directly into the stone wall!
JR: Graves missed!
JC: Graves didn’t miss! Hayes dodged!
The champion howls in pain, clutching his shoulder.
Hayes wastes no time.
His face hardens with veteran focus as he grabs Graves by the arm—
Spins—
And HURLS HIM WITH A FALCON ARROW!
CRACK!
Graves’ body bounces off the castle floor again.
Dust sprays into the air.
JC: That one might do it! We might have a new Universal champion!
Graves rolls onto his stomach groaning…
Hayes shakes his head, as he crawls forward to pin the champ…
Graves reaches for his belt…
…And drops a smoke ball!
JC: Oh no! A smoke ball!
JR: Graves really is like Doctor Claw from Inspector Gadget… Or Shredder from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! Just when you think the hero has him, credits are rolling and I have to tune in next week to see his next evil plan!
Hayes crawls through the smokescreen, still trying to get a pin on the champ…
…
……
Eventually, the smoke starts to clear.
…And we see a single figure in the hall.
Hayes!
JR: Graves pulls off another escape!
Hayes looks around, he rolls over sitting, checking all directions!
…He buries his head in his hands, getting impatient…
As he hears the sickening laughter of the Dark Warrior echo through the halls!
…Hayes sneers.
…Before a thought crosses his mind.
And a smile comes across his lips.
Yet another hallway Hayes is approaches!
JR: How many hallways are in this castle anyway?!?
JC: You’d be surprised how much of a castle is hallways! You get in a castle and you think it’s gonna be big and spacious… no, it’s like 70% hallways!
As Hayes approaches another intersection… the camera pans around…
We sees Graves… sporting a BIG AXE he stole off a suit of armor in the hall!
JC: Oh God! We’re in full-on Tom and Jerry territory here!
JR: Why do they even put suits of armor in hallways in castles? Shouldn’t… like guards be wearing those or something? Or should they be in, like… a closet?
Hayes looks down one hallway.
Then another.
…Graves peeks around the corner, smiling insidiously… Reeling back the axe for a finishing strike…
When Hayes…
Quietly backs away.
Disappearing around the opposite corner.
JR: What the… Where’s Asher going? Did he finally realize he’s better off going back to the indies?
Graves’ vibrating, excited body… Sees Asher’s shadow on the floor getting smaller, not bigger… He peers around the corner… checking down the hallway Hayes disappeared into.
His brow furrows.
Confused.
Then—
His grin slowly returns.
He creeps forward silently.
Tiptoeing toward the corner like a cartoon burglar about to spring another trap.
He peeks around the wall—
Nothing.
Graves chuckles quietly.
Then steps into the hallway.
And immediately—
Hayes steps out behind him.
JC: WAIT A MINUTE—!
JR: OH SHIT!
Hayes’ expression is cold and focused.
The hunter has become the hunted.
Graves slowly turns—
His grin fading.
Because now he’s the one in the ambush.
Hayes cracks his neck once.
Then lunges forward—
SPEAR!
Asher TACKLES Graves against the wall!
…WHICH GIVES OUT!
JC: Hayes just plowed Graves all the way through the wall!
JR: They don’t make medieval castles like they used to anymore![/white]
Graves and Asher burst through the wall, both landing in a heap amidst the stone and rubble of the destroyed castle wall!
JC: Our competitors have found their way to the Castle’s courtyard! Complete with spooky stone gargoyles, gnarled leafless trees… and a bottomless pit in the center of the courtyard!
JR: Dude who built this place?! “Let’s put a giant death hole in the middle of the courtyard!”
JC: My notes say this castle was built by Sir Stefan.
JR: What happened to him?
JC: He died in a war, all the soldiers loyal to him were executed and the women and children taken as slaves.
JR: …I know this take will be controversial, but good. I’m glad.[/white]
Both men rise slowly in the ruined courtyard, dust and broken stone crunching beneath their boots. The cold German night air drifts through the shattered walls as torches sputter in iron sconces around the open yard.
Between them—
A massive black pit yawns open in the center of the courtyard, its depth swallowed by darkness.
Wind whistles up from the abyss.
Both men slowly rise… And suddenly lunge forward!
JC: Here we go!
Hayes’ jaw tightens.
He suddenly lunges forward—
ELBOW TO THE HEAD!
CRACK!
Graves’ head snaps sideways, but the champion’s expression immediately twists with vicious delight.
He just rides the momentum of the blow, retaliates instantly with a…
SPINNING BACKFIST!
SMACK!
Hayes’ head jerks back now.
JC: Trading blows in the courtyard!
Hayes snarls as he steps forward again—
KNEE TO THE MIDSECTION!
Graves doubles over—
But suddenly fires upward—
TRAPPING HEADBUTT!
CRACK!
JR: Dude these guys are just beating the hell out of each other now!
JC: This looks less like a wrestling match and more like a drunken parking lot fight!
JR: Except instead of a parking lot, it’s a medieval courtyard! WITH A BOTTOMLESS PIT!
Both men stagger again.
Graves’ grin spreads wider as he suddenly charges forward—
SPEAR!
But Hayes’ veteran instincts flare—
He sidesteps!
Graves barrels past him—
Hayes grabs him from behind—
COBRA CLUTCH! Into a… SHORT ARM LARIAT!
WHAM!
Graves flips sideways onto the stone courtyard.
Dust explodes from the impact.
Hayes immediately hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO—
Graves violently jerks a shoulder up.
JC: Near fall! Graves stays alive!
JR: But Graves hasn’t even gotten a pin attempt on Hayes thus far! How’s Graves gonna turn this one around against a multi-time world champ like Asher Hayes!
Graves rolls onto his stomach coughing.
But Hayes’ eyes narrow.
Now he senses it.
The end is close.
He drags Graves up by the hair—
But Graves’ eyes suddenly flash with manic inspiration.
His lips peel into that crooked smile again.
He leaps upward—
HURRICANRANA!
JR: WHAT THE HELL?!
JC: Graves is pulling out tricks I don’t even think HE knows he’s capable of! Have we ever seen Graves even try a hurricanrana!
Graves goes to reel himself backwards to send Hayes up and over…
But Hayes’ eyes widen—
The veteran reacts instantly.
Instead of flipping—
He CATCHES GRAVES MID-AIR!
Hayes’ face twists with raw exertion as he hoists the champion upward—
Then charges forward—
BUCKLE BOMB!
THUD!
Graves’ spine CRACKS violently against the thick trunk of the dead courtyard tree.
The tree shudders from the impact, collapsing, felle!
As Graves collapses forward onto the ground in a heap.
JR: BUCKLE BOMB AGAINST THE TREE!
JC: I think that actually makes it a ‘Tree Bomb’, since the turnbuckle is what makes it a buckle bomb!
JR: God, shuddup, you nerd.
Hayes dives onto the fallen Graves!
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOO!
Somehow, some way, Graves kicks out!
JC: Graves survives!
JR: But he’s running on fumes, Jacuinde! How the Hell is the champ gonna survive an opponent as crafty and dominant as Asher Hayes!?!
Hayes rolls off him, breathing heavier now.
But his eyes burn with determination.
He slowly pushes himself to his feet.
Then raises one finger in the air.
The signal.
JC: Oh no…
JR: He’s calling for it!
Hayes grabs Graves by the head.
He drags the champion upward.
Hooks him.
Hoists him vertically—
JC: THE BREAKDOWN!
Hayes begins to step toward the edge of the pit—
Preparing to drive Graves down into the stone beside it—
But Graves’ eyes suddenly snap open.
Panic flashes across his face.
Then desperation.
His body twists violently.
He SLIPS OUT of Hayes’ grip!
Landing on his feet behind him!
Hayes spins—
But Graves’ cheeks suddenly balloon outward—
JR: OH NO!
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!
A blast of GREEN MIST sprays directly into Hayes’ eyes.
JC: THE MIST!
Hayes screams, instantly clutching his face.
He spins blindly in place.
Stumbling.
Disoriented.
Graves’ grin stretches wider than ever.
He lunges forward—
Scooping Hayes onto his shoulders.
JR: OH MY GOD!
GRAVES CONSEQUENCES!
The Razor’s Edge lift hangs for one horrifying moment—
Then Graves runs forward—
AND HURLS HAYES OFF THE EDGE!
Hayes disappears into the bottomless pit.
Silence.
Wind howls up from the darkness.
…
Winner and STILL XWF Universal Champion: ‘Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves
JC: Oh my God, he did it… Micheal Graves is officially going into the March Madness Final! We are one match from potentially crowning KING MICHEAL GRAVES!
JR: Asher Hayes demonstrated to Micheal Graves exactly who the FUCK he is! Hayes counteracted almost every weapon in Graves’ bag of tricks!
JC: Almost being the key word! But Graves only needs one move! One strike! And he can secure the victory! He’s overcome one of the most dangerous opponents in the wrestling world tonight… but if Micheal Graves wants to leave tonight with the Universal title… he’s got one more match to go!
JR: Oh, he wants it, Jacuinde! He made that very clear tonight!
"A desperate gamble… a villain’s cunning…"
"In the shadow of ruin, destiny has chosen its champion…"
"The Dark Warrior survives the abyss!"
Graves stumbles to the edge and peers down into the abyss… wiping blood and green mist residue from his mouth.
Then he starts laughing.
Loud.
Unhinged…
As we fade to black…
“Now, who’s ready to be baptized into a new era of entertainment?!”
The lights go out in the arena as the voice calls out its query. A moment later, bright, twinkling lights like stars scatter across the building.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day
You gotta climb a little higher,
To the top of the display,
Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
The starlight intensifies as a figure rises from beneath the platform, her back to the crowd, head down. The song continues to echo throughout the arena, electric and intense. Her blonde hair is tied into a tight shark-braid that swings back and forth as she bounces from foot to foot.
“If you want it, just take it,
The world's yours, don’t waste it,
Go make the stars align, to shine-”
The rising platform levels to the arena floor in unison with the beat drop to the song.
“BRIGHTER!”
As the word echoes through the arena, an explosion of sparkling pyrotechnics go off as Betsy Granger throws out her arms, revealing a blue chiffon robe lit with bright stars.
TODD: Folks, Betsy Granger is here at Sagrada Familia! And I’ve gotta say, the XWF feels a little bit more like itself when Betsy Granger is in the building!
BAMA: She’s a space cadet, Todd! She talks about sailing the stars, but she gets brought back down to earth every time! She’s been scrapping tooth and nail, but she hasn’t won a belt since returning!
TODD: You talk like she hasn’t had any accomplishments since returning, Bama! Betsy captained her team to the War Games Final! She’s climbed to near the top of the XWF ELO charts! And she beat two very game competitors to become #1 contender to the Revolution Title!
BAMA: It’s one thing to become the contender for a belt… But, after that, ya gotta beat the champ… And this champ? Has beaten every contender that’s come his way for OVER HALF A YEAR!
TODD: Betsy’s said she’s tired of failing! That tonight she’s making a stand and kicking off the Betsy Revolution… but can she beat the man no one else has in half-a-year? Or will she be another feather in the cap of the champ!
“Brighter than the heavens in the skies above,
(oooh oooh)
You’ll be,
BRIGHTER!"
Twirling gracefully to face the crowd, she points skyward as the lights in the arena flood back on. Betsy bounces twice before half-running, half-skipping down the ramp towards the ring.
"Going supernova, all the eyes look up
(at you, at you)
BRIGHTER!”
The song switches to an instrumental break as she does one complete circuit around the ring. Throwing off her cape on the announcer's table, she dashes towards the ring and jumps onto the apron in a one clean move. Using her momentum, she bounces clean over the top rope and spins on her toes to the center of the ring, arms out wide. As she comes to a stop, the music swells, and the crowd joins in like a devoted choir, just the same as the song itself.
“BRIIIIIIIIIGHTEEEEERRRRRRR”
Betsy grins widely and bounces from foot to foot, ready for the fight.
…
The stage alights in red. Smoke gathers around the stage. Gods by Sleep Token plays as XXXVI appears, rising up out of the red lights amidst the smoke, his hands gathered in prayer. He steps out onto the stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes his out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. Then from behind him, appears CIX. She follows him down the ramp. Half way down, he spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring.
TODD: And there he is! XXXVI! Revolution champion for one-hundred-and-ninety days!
BAMA: And he’s only looked more dominant as his reign has gone on, Toddrick! He beat Mister Oz in two back-to-back falls! After Summer Page stole a win or two off him, he went to the lab, stepped up his training and stole a win in a match where Page picked the stip! And he made ‘Choke’ Reggie Estrada CHOKE on his own taunt in his latest defense! You know Matthias Syn is sweating cuz after XXXVI beat that clown Bobby Sales, Syn sent him a message in blood! The world sees the distance between XXXVI’s reign and Syn’s record 252-day reign getting shorter and shorter by the day!
TODD: I can’t argue with what you’re saying, Bama! XXXVI has been absolutely dominant as Revolution champion! But tonight, he faces one of the best to ever run the ropes in an XWF ring! This may be his most fearsome challenger yet! WIll XXXVI continue to dominate? Or does his incredible reign end tonight?
XXXVI climbs onto the apron, outstretches his arms and then enters, rolling backward over the top rope and spins toward the center of the ring, arms outstretched like a helicopter. He then sits, cross legged in the dead center of the ring, hands once again in prayer pose and bows his head. Full black again, then a single, red cone of light bathes him in the ring as fire explodes out of each turnbuckle. Outside the ring, CIX surveys the crowd as they await the match starting.
…
The two opponents stand a few feet apart staring each other down as CIX hands the official the Revolution title from the apron! He raises the belt between the two before handing it off to the timekeeper…
TODD: And here we go! Revolution Championship on the line—XXXVI versus Betsy Granger! We’ve got one of the most exciting dynamic talents in XWF history… an unsung legend of this business… against someone who has been thoroughly dominant! We’re talking about over six months! One-hundred-and-ninety-days and counting as Revolution champion!
BAMA: You know Matthias Syn is watching this one with great interest, Toddrick! He sent a pretty thirty-three-oriented message for ol’ mister roman numerals on Anarchy! But it’s Betsy’s turn tonight!
TODD: And Betsy is determined to score her first major title since returning to the XWF last year! Betsy has had opportunities before! Chances at War Games, chances at the Television title… chances at names like Kieran King and Kristoffer Arroyo… She’s proven she belongs in the ring with the best the XWF has to offer…
BAMA: But nobody wants to ‘belong in the ring’, Toddy baby! Everyone wants to be the very best! And Betsy wants to prove she’s among the best by breaking that streak XXXVI has going tonight!
Betsy’s eyes widen, jaw set tight, shoulders bouncing with barely-contained energy as she leans forward on the balls of her feet—like a sprinter waiting for the gun—she explodes across the ring with a blistering forearm smash to XXXVI’s jaw!
TODD: Connects! First strike goes to Betsy Granger, catching the champ off-guard!
BAMA: You don’t catch XXXVI off-guard, Toddy! You simply make the mistake of stepping into his strikezone!
XXXVI’s head snaps sideways, eyes narrowing instantly as his stance shifts lower, more deliberate—his breathing slows as he absorbs the strike and steps into her next motion, catching her wrist mid-swing and twisting into a tight armwringer!
BAMA: What I tell ya, Toddy! XXXVI took a blow to his masked face so he could twist Betsy’s rocket arm outta its socket!
TODD: Well-scouted, Bama! I bet Betsy wished she’d asked you about her gameplan before the bell rung! She’s gone from looking like she’d take a one-strike victory to being deep in XXXVI’s clutches!
TODD: This is exactly why XXXVI has been such a dominant champion, Bama… He’s transitioned Betsy around the ring, from an arm wringer to a side headlock to a hammerlock to a sleeper hold!
BAMA: Betsy’s trying to launch her Revolution title dreams into the stratosphere, but XXXVI has her so tangled up, she still hasn’t gotten off the launching pad yet! XXXVI is a living, breathing weapon… and speaking of breathing, I don’t know much longer Betsy’s gonna be breathing unless she does something quick!
Indeed, XXXVI has secured a full nelson sleeper hold, trying to shut down on Betsy’s breathing from a rear choke…
But Betsy manages to fish her arm inside of his bicep to loosen his grip!
XXXVI, unperturbed by Betsy’s resistance, converts control from a sleeper back to a hammerlock, tucking Betsy’s arm behind her back!
TODD: XXXVI continuing to set the pace in the early-going, trying to sap Betsy’s will to fight by not offering her even a moment to feel like the master of this contest!
Betsy’s face flashes with irritation, lips curling as she tries to yank free, her body twisting with impatience—she flips forward into a handspring to reverse the pressure, snapping into her own spinning wristlock!
TODD: Oho! There we go! Betsy pulls off an aerodynamic counter that was out of this world!
Betsy smiles, letting out an exhale of relief as she goes to twist the champion’s arm over her shoulder, eager to secure some advantage while she has momentary control…
But as she spins, XXXVI’s eyes flick down to her feet, tracking the pivot, expression sharpening with quiet recognition…
In a flash, he rolls through the pressure, kips up, and transitions seamlessly into a standing hammerlock, immediately dragging her down into a grounded position!
TODD: …WOW. XXXVI looked like he did all that in fast-forward! Look at that transition! No wasted motion!
BAMA: Maybe they call him thirty-six cuz he did that in thirty-six HUNDREDTHS of a second, Toddrick! Not only did the champ take Betsy off her feet, he almost broke the official’s neck when that zebra had to do a double-take watching it take place before his eyes!!
TODD: You can sense the frustration creeping in for Betsy Granger… The champ has kept her mat wrestling, trying to prevent her from building a full-head of steam and delivering any of her quick, high-impact offense!
BAMA: XXXVI did his homework on what makes Betsy so dangerous in the ring! That’s what’s made him the second-longest reigning Revolution champion of all-time! Rapidly on his way to becoming first!
XXXVI transitions from a hammerlock to a surfboard stretch…
Betsy’s teeth grit, her arms pulled behind her back, feet kicking against the mat as frustration creeps in—she twists, eager to power back up to a vertical base!
…But XXXVI springs forward! His leg around her waist and cinches in a sleeper hold with body scissors, squeezing tight!
TODD: Oh my! Betsy is locked in another sleeper hold! This time, while XXXVI has her trapped in the center of the ring!
XXXVI’s visage remains eerily calm, eyes half-lidded, centering himself as he tightens the hold—Betsy’s eyes widen in alarm, her breathing quickening as she realizes the trap, her legs kicking wildly before she plants a foot and rolls sideways, barely shifting her weight enough to slip her shoulder free!
TODD: Another escape by Betsy Granger!
BAMA: You say escape like she’s still in control, Toddy! She’s obviously in fight or flight mode, just wriggling desperately like a cockroach with one antenna left! This ain’t a fight, this is a hunt, and XXXVI is pressing her toward a cliff with nowhere to go!
Betsy gasps, hair whipping as she scrambles to her knees, shaking her arm out—determination overriding panic—she fires a sudden karate-style mid kick into XXXVI’s ribs!
XXXVI exhales sharply, pain flickering across his body, but his hands already move with intent—he catches her leg on recoil and drops instantly into a dragon screw, twisting her knee violently into the mat!
TODD: The champ targeting the leg already!
BAMA: ‘Zactly, Toddrick! Clip the wings, Todd! Siphon that rocket fuel outta her! That traveler can’t go nowhere if she can’t stand!
TODD: XXXVI has an advantage in the early-going, executing his gameplan to perfection! White Betsy has scored some painful strikes, XXXVI has managed to convert those strikes into chain wrestling sequences and slowed this match down to a crawl!
Betsy’s face contorts, a sharp cry escaping as she clutches her knee, rolling instinctively—fear flickers for just a second—XXXVI flows over her, capturing the leg and stepping through into a Boston crab, sitting deep!
BAMA: The official’s askin’ Betsy if she wants to quit!
TODD: He must not know the Impossible Traveler! Betsy doesn’t have one ounce of quit in here!
XXXVI’s jaw tightens now, pain in his own body evident as he leans back, using the hold to stabilize himself…
But Betsy’s hands slam the mat, eyes darting wildly before she shakes her head violently, refusing… she plants her hands against the mat to reduce the torque on her spine…
And she claws forward, inch by inch, dragging both of them toward the ropes!
She grabs the ropes!
TODD: Incredible resilience by the challenger! Betsy manages to make it to the ropes!
The official admonishes the champ, instructing him to release the h-
WAIT! XXXVI, in a feat of strength, pulls Betsy off the ropes and back toward the center of the ring! He sits down on Betsy’s back, increasing the torque on the hold!
TODD: Oh no! Once more, XXXVI’s game is to give Betsy a taste of victory before snatching it from her mouth and giving her a mouthful of defeat and pain!
BAMA: It’s demoralizing to his opponent, and that makes it super effective! Betsy may not have any quit in here under the best circumstances, but if she has even an ounce of quit, the champ’s gonna milk it out of her!
XXXVI pulls up with all he’s got!
Betsy’s hand shakes!
…
……
NO!
Betsy’s face hardens with defiance, teeth bared as she refuses to quit—she twists her hips suddenly, kicking her leg…
Out of XXXV’s grip!
And up into the back of XXXVI’s head! MULE KICK!
XXXVI’s grip loosens just enough, his face tightening from the impact—Betsy rips free and scrambles up!
XXXVI charges in, trying to secure a waistlock to slow her down…
But Betsy immediately springs into a backflip…
PELE KICK! Betsy’s boots connect flush with the champ’s mask!
Todd: That could be the opening the challenger needed! XXXVI was making this look like a hunt, but Betsy just turned this back into an even fight!
The two competitors slowly rise back to their feet…
XXXVI staggers, blinking rapidly as he tries to re-center—his posture dips, recalculating…
Betsy surges forward, going for a grapple!
But XXXVI slips under her grip! Betsy staggers forward, XXXVI again goes to slow things down with a hammerlock…
But this time, Betsy sees it coming! eyes lighting up with urgency—as XXXVI springs to secure her from behind, she reaches up, wraps her hands around the back of his head…
And SPIKES him FACE-FIRST into the mat!
GALACTIC ADVANTAGE! (Snapmare Driver)!
XXXVI’s body jolts from the impact, shoulders rolling as he instinctively protects his neck, a flicker of strain crossing his face…
TODD: What a move by Betsy Granger! That could do it!
Betsy turns the champ from his front onto his shoulders and stacks him against the mat!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO!
The champ forces a shoulder off the mat!
BAMA: Did you really think it would be that easy, Toddrick! ONE-HUNDRED-NINETY DAYS!
As XXXVI slowly shakes his head, Betsy is behind him, getting the crowd pumped up!
TODD: Betsy Granger had been struggling, but now it looks like she has the champ right where she wants him!
The Revolution champ rises to his feet…
Betsy grapples him from the side…
Looking for a…
DOWN YOU G-!
…No! XXXVI blocks it… And hits a spinning backfist! Betsy spins, cradling her jaw after that sick impact!
XXXVI grabs her by the back of the head…
TIPTOE THROUGH THE TULIPS! (Edge-u-Cator)!
Betsy’s skull is driven back against the mat!
BAMA: That’s gotta do it! Another successful defense!
XXXVI grabs Betsy’s boot when her limbs rocket off the mat! The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEE-NOOOOOOO! AT 2.9, Betsy forces her shoulder off the mat!
TODD: Betsy refuses to let another opportunity pass her by!
The crowd is on their feet as Betsy and XXXVI both slowly rise up…
XXXVI’s chest heaves as he stumbles back, but his eyes sharpen again—he plants his feet just as Betsy surges forward again—he drives a sudden boot into her stomach, doubling her over!
XXXVI’s face tightens with urgency now, sensing the window—he hooks her arms, pulling her in, trying to leap off the mat and drag her off her feet and toward the mat!
BAMA: Third Eye Blind! We’ve seen XXXVI finish off many a challenger with this Romero Special Dragonsleeper! Put Betsy to bed!
Betsy’s eyes snap wide in pure instinctive panic, her body thrashing mid-lift—refusal overtaking everything… XXXVI goes to pull her down off her feet…
But, in a flash, she plants her boots and widens her stance, keeping herself from going down!
XXXVI tries to force his weight down on her!
And in response, she twists her weight violently, slipping behind him mid-transition—
DOWN!
YOU!
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
TODD: OH MY GOD! BETSY HIT IT! COBRA CLUTCH LEG SWEEP OUT OF NOWHERE!!
XXXVI’s body whiplashes backward into the mat, the impact echoing—his eyes glaze for just a split second, body stunned—
Betsy’s face is a mix of shock and disbelief as she scrambles, collapsing over him, hooking the leg—
ONE!
TWO!
XXXVI throws a shoulder off the mat…
….
A quarter-second after THREE!!
Winner and NEEEEEEEEEW XWF REVOLUTION CHAMPION: ‘Il Vidante’ Betsy Granger!
Todd: SHE GOT HIM!! BETSY GRANGER DID IT!!
Bama T: OUTTA NOWHERE!! SHE STOLE IT!! SHE STOLE THE WHOLE DAMN THING!!
Betsy rolls off, eyes wide, chest heaving, staring at the lights like she doesn’t quite believe it—then slowly, realization crashes over her—
Her hands cover her face as a laugh-cry escapes her—
Todd: An incredible reign for the man they call Thirty-Six! 190 days with a belt around your waist is something you can only say about a very elite group of champions! But, tonight one era ends… and the Betsy Granger Revolution has begun!
After the match is completed and XXXVI is gathering himself together in the ring… the lights suddenly go black!
Up on the X-Tron, the only source of light in the arena now, a throbbing, pulsing, glowing capital letter V appears! But what does it mean????
Todd: “What the heck is that, Bammer? What’s a V mean?”
Bama T.: “Heck if I know, buddy, but little Sassy here thinks business done picked up! She’s a squirmin’ and a shakin’ in my arms!”
SASSY: *mewls and whines*
Bama T.: “See!?”
The lights come back up… and XXXVI is face down in the ring, surrounded by three… well, there’s no other way to say this…. Three absolutely GORGEOUS men!
Bama T.: “What the HECK!? Who are these fellas?”
Todd: “Bama I have no idea… but I have to admit they look a little bit familiar… I can’t put my finger on it, but I could swear…”
Just then the three men all gather around the fallen XXXVI and set him up. With the largest of the three men in the center, they lift XXXVI up into a powerbomb! They run to the ropes and triple powerbomb him out of the ring and send him crashing through the ringside barricade onto the floor! What a devastating assault!!!
Todd: “Oh my god, Bama! Those three men might have just killed XXXVI! We need medical attention out here right away!”
Bama T.: “Them sumbitches ain’t here to PLAY! Look, the big one got him a microphone!”
Indeed, the extremely tall member of the beautiful trio has gotten a mic in hand and stands facing the hard cam with his two friends flanking him.
Tall Gorgeous Man: “WELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL ain’t that a kick in the head, yall?? I been told all y’all about what happens when you step to BIG… PRETTY!”
Todd: “No… I know that voice, Bama, but it can’t be! That can’t possibly be Big Preesh!”
Bama T.: “Well he’s doin’ a damn good impression of him if it ain’t him!”
BIG PRETTY: “Y’all know me! And y’all know my BOYS too! Give it up right now for “Beautiful” Herschel Kiss and “Dangerously Sexy” Darren D!”
Todd: “That’s… there’s just no way! Darren Dangerous? Herschel Kiss? But they… they look… I mean I don’t want to be rude, but…”
Bama T.: “Them three fellas was as ugly as a wrinkly ol’ nutsack, Todd, don’t beat around the bush. But right now I’m lookin’ at a group of men that could have worked at Abercrombie! Look at the abs on Darren! He ain’t never seen abs in his life but he could wash laundry on them damn things!”
Todd: “And Herschel? My goodness, his lips are so pouty! His jawline looks like it was carved from marble! His buttocks…”
Bama T.: “Easy tiger, that closet door don’t close once it’s been opened! Let’s hush for a minute it looks like Darren’s got somethin’ to say!”
DANGEROUSLY SEXY DARREN D: “Now all of you FUCKIN’ IDIOTS out there, all you FUCKIN’ KEYBPARD WARRIORS who’s been sitting in their momma’s basement talking SHIT about the most HARDCORE X-TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEME ICON in the history of the XWF… spreading rumor about me and calling me ugly and stupid… EAT YOUR HEARTS OUT, CHUMPS!!! I’m hotter than ever and after I go backstage and chug a few beers I’ll be on my way to your houses to see your wives and get you CUCKED OUT! DO SOMETHIN’ ABOUT IT I DARE YA!!!”
Herschel Kiss takes the mic from the hands of Darren, who’s obviously getting too worked up.
‘BEAUTIFUL’ HERSCHEL KISS: “Calm down Darren, calm down… you don’t want to ruin that gorgeous face by popping a vein! Now… to alllllllll of you jealous, desperate men out there who wish you were us? Too bad, so sad! We are the wet dreams of every woman out of your league. We are the men that your wives and girlfriends think about when you’re sweating and grunting on top of them. WE are the hottest thing going… and we have one woman to thank for that!”
The lights dim again.
Todd: “Now what’s this???”
Bama T.: “We gotta make sure these places pay the light bill, this is gettin’ ridiculous… and Sassy’s afraid of the dark!”
SASSY: *whimpers*
Bama T.: “She done peed!”
The X-Tron then glows with a soft hum and a woman’s curvaceous silhouette appears in the center.
Then, a sultry voice echoes over the PA in a deep whisper…
[bold]“VILAROOOO”[/bold]
And the Tron lights up fully, revealing that Marisol Vilaro is standing in front of the Tron screen! The screen itself then changes to show the three men side by side in a gorgeous image that was definitely not created by Gemini AI!
BIG PRETTY: “That’s right, daddy! Us three got VILAROMAXXED! And now we are as pretty as they come, and as baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad as ever, boy-o!”
Darren snatches the mic away from Big Pretty.
“DANGEROUSLY SEXY” DARREN D: “NO MORE TALK! YOU WANT SOME, COME GET SOME! THIRTY-SIX? YOU’RE EIGHTY-SIXED NOW, BITCH!!!”
Darren flings the mic hard into the skull of XXXVI who is still on the ground at ringside being attended to by EMTs.
Todd: “Well what a shocking turn of events, Bama! It looks like Marisol Vilaro is making a return to Anarchy, and she’s got friends! The former Revolution Champion just became public enemy number one of the Vilaro System!”
Bama T.: “That Vilaro system is LEGIT, Toddy! Look how fit and handsome those boys are now! I wouldn’t wanna be XXXVI or anyone else on the Anarchy roster if these VilaroMaxxers decided I was in their crosshairs!”
Todd: “Let’s send you back to our friends Joe Rogan and Jacuinde!”
The Rollerwhores whizz around the rink, building momentum and also sexual tension between each other, which is increasing their violent tendencies…
Landerson is stretching his legs, practicing turning and spinning as his momentum carries him forward…
The Storm has elbow pads and kneepads… She looks a little shaky on her skates… Occasionally, she throws a wild elbow!
JC: It looks like Landerson is really comfy building speed on skates… And while Hixx may lack experience as a speedster, she certainly seems capable of big strikes while moving!
JR: Is she *trying* to swing though? Or is she just desperately keeping her balance?
The four skaters all move to the center, where the official skates up, ensuring they all understand the rules…
Landerson and Hixx are locked in, ready to compete, eager to score their first titles in their XWF career…
Meanwhile, Violet and Elektra are almost feral in their desire for each other… They grind with a desperate longing against each other, their locked chastity belts the only thing preventing them just abandoning all pretense of wrestling match an-
JC: Jesus Christ, can we get on with this match already?
JR: I can’t believe Rollerwhores matches aren’t Rated X.
JC: I can’t believe the Trillionaires got permission to convert Sagrada Familia into a roller rink?
JR: Permission?
…
JC: Wow, okay, this match suddenly feels very sacrilegious.
A Freeform Chaotic Brawl Taking Place On a Roller Derby Rink!
1 RP/ 2k per team
HIGHLIGHT REEL
The moment the bell rings, the Rollerwhores break into a sprint, rolling around the rink! They move like a unit, like they’re connected at the hip!
JC: The Rollerwhores don’t look like two skaters out there, they look like a single organism with one hive-mind!
JR: Like a beast with two backs!
JC: Ye-...Stop it!
Landerson sees this roller derby match isn’t gonna be a cakewalk and, after a quick sign of the cross, breaks into a speed-skate to catch up with the tag champs!
Latoya sees the other competitors engaging in a battle of speed and… kicks her legs like a third-grader on her first field trip to the roller rink… Cruising at a careful, intentional clip…
JC: Pizza, french fries… pizza, french fries…
JR: The Storm looks like she’s moving in slow-motion out there! Slow and steady wins the race in fairy tales, but this is a REAL-LIFE ROLLER DERBY!
The Rollerwhores zip around the circumference of the rink in record time, zipping around the bend as Latoya carefully skates, trying to keep her bal-
WHAM! Violet goes low with an extended skate, hooking around Latoya’s ankle! At the same time, Elektra spins in perfect time, driving a spinning elbow into Latoya’s back!
Latoya topples onto her front, her pads saving her elbows, but her face collides with the rink! The Rollerwhores skid by effortlessly, with Landerson trying to speed up to catch them!
Rollerwhores → 2
Hixx/Landerson → 0
JC: Wait, I’m confused, what just happened? Does Roller Derby have points?
JR: Jacuinde, come on! The Rollerwhores got their jammers lapped the opposing team’s blocker! This jam session is showing how dominant the Rollerwhores are at breaking through pivots!
JC: …And these are… words you’re saying?
Latoya is furious, shoving off her elbows and skating, building up a little speed out of white hot rage!
JR: Violet passed Latoya first, that makes her the Lead Jammer! Jacuinde, how do you think Hixx and Landerson are going to adjust their pivot to prevent this from becoming a blowout?
JC: …Um… can we go back to wrestling? This is still a wrestling show, right?
Landerson is speeding quickly behind Violet and Elektra, managing to pull up beside the Rollerwhores…
Elektra throws a wild low elbow, trying to clip the five-foot-nothing Landerson across the top of his skull…
But Landerson ducks and spins in place, clipping Elektra’s ankle and sending her on her hands and knees on the rink! She sprawls and rolls, limb over limb, across the rink as Landerson skates past…
JC: I believe the technical term there is ‘WIPEOUT!’
JR: That’s not a technical term at all, Jacuinde! But you are correct!
Violet rapidly approaches Latoya from behind, looking for another easy point on Latoya, who is furiously skating, swinging her arms to try and move as fast as possible around the rink!
Violet goes for a lariat from behind on Latoya, ready to dump the Storm on her front once more!
…
But, Latoya extens her arm out… And Violet runs Hixx’s arm and drops onto her back!
JC: What a counter by Latoya Hixx! The Storm is full of surprises!
Violet does a full roll over multiple times!
As Landerson does a sick jump over her fallen body!
Rollerwhores → 2
Hixx/Landerson → 1
JR: And Hixx and Landerson are on the board!
JC: For some reason!
Violet shoves herself up onto her elbows furiously!
A moment later, Elektra scoops her up off the rink and the two resume travelling at breakneck speed!
JC: Okay, I think I’m getting it, so…
…
JC: So, this is roller derby, right?
JR: It’s the most hellacious roller derby to ever take place in a holy site, Jacuinde!
Latoya and Landerson skate side-by-side, building momentum…
As Violet and Elektra both rapidly skate, closing the distance between the champions and the challengers…
Landerson barks to Latoya… and the two rapidly swap lanes, Latoya taking the center one and Landerson taking the inside…
JR: Ooooh, gutsy pivot! Jacuinde, break that maneuver down for us and what it means in the scope of this competition!
JC: I am incapable of doing that and you know it, Joe!
Latoya whips her arms out in a T-Pose, ready to counter clothesline either of the slender rollerwhores looking to topple her off her feet!
But instead of another lariat, Violet latches onto Elektra’s arm…
And irish whips her straight into Latoya’s back! The two topple off their skates and onto the rink!
Which lets Violet skate past the fallen Latoya effortlessly!
Rollerwhores → 3
Hixx/Landerson → 1
Violet skates from behind Landerson, looking for an acrobatic…
SPINNING HEEL KICK ON SKATES!
…But Landerson ducks under!
And with a lucha libre flare, leaps off his skates!
And HURRICANRANAS VIOLET ONTO HER BACK!
JR: Incredible aerodynamic move there by Landerson!
Landerson hooks his biceps around Violet’s legs!
The official skates up and drops to count!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO! VIOLET KICKS OUT!
JC: …Wait, so… you *can* pin people in this Roller Derby match? How much is that worth?
JR: 150 points and it immediately ends the match.
JC: …So, all that other roller derby shit was pointless? It’s just this one thing that actually counts as winning or losing?
JR: Yeah, kinda like quidditch. Or Presidential election years.
The two teams have paired off now into one-on-ones… Rollerwhore Elektra is desperately grappling… less grappling and more like a wild animal, thrashing against Latoya… While Landerson and Violet are effectiely jousting, trading spots from outside to insane lane, swinging and ducking in unison! Dodging and duking it out!
JC: The challengers have managed to split up the champions! But who does the isolation game bode better for?!?
Elektra claws and scratches like a feral feline, going for Latoya’s eyes and throat… But Latoya manages to keep her footing… er, skating… and HOIST Elektra off her feet and into a…
BEAR HUG!
JC: Oh my! Wait, you can also win by submission in roller derby?
JR: Stop asking stupid questions, Jacuinde!
Latoya tries to squeeze the life out of Elektra…
Landerson goes for a low sweeping kick on Violet… But Violet spots Elektra in trouble and leaps over Landerson’s kick, heading for her partner’s direction!
JC: Violet moving to make the safe!
JR: Rollerwhores are all about protecting each other…
JC: Though I doubt they’re about using protection between each other…
JR: What are you talking about, Jacuinde? What better protection is there than two chastity belt codpieces!
Violet weaves backwards around the track as Latoya tries to squeeze the life out of Elektra… Landerson spins and rapidly comes after her, looking to preserve the bear hug his partner has applied!
Latoya sees Violet coming and, while she clings onto Elektra… her boots weave through the air!
BICYCLE KICK!
JC: Beautiful kick by the Storm!
Hixx’s boot cuts through the air!
Violet ducks under it, skating past!
…But Landerson, locked on pursuing Violet, gets his head almost taken off by Latoya’s boot!
JC: Oh no! Miscommunication between the challengers!
Landerson wipes out HARD on the rink!
Latoya’s irritation at the error takes her focus away… which is enough time for Elektra to throw a wild elbow and free herself from Latoya’s grip!
Elektra skitters back to the rink, resuming skating beside Violet skating up beside her!
Violet speed-skates for Latoya! Latoya looks for a grapple to front-facelock Violet!
But Violet welcomes the grapple and spins Latoya facing the opposite direction!
As Elektra skates by at breakneck speed, Violet manages to lift Latoya off her feet…
Aaaaaaand…
THREE-DEE ONTO THE ROLLER RINK!
JC: Holy SHIT! What a move from the Rollerwhores!
Layota is brought down SKULL-FIRST on the rink!
Elektra covers as Violet skates in circles around the pin!
ONE!
Landerson shakes off the cobwebs!
TWO!
He starts skating toward the pin with all he’s got!
…
But he’s too far away!
THREE!
Winners and Still XWF Anarchy Tag Team Champions: Rollerwhore Violet and Rollerwhore Elektra
Pyro shoots off in every which direction as the TV Champion, CENTURION, appears on stage! The crowd goes wild, chanting his name as he walks confidently towards the ring. The TV title rests upon Centurion’s shoulder as walks the steps and enters the ring, raising a fist as the crowd pops for him one more time.
Todd: Our TV Champion is pulling double-duty tonight, as he tries to become Centurion TWO-BELTS! But that’s not all that’s at stake tonight, Bama…
Bama: You’re damn right, Todd! The stakes for this match couldn’t be higher! Not only is the Anarchy Championship on the line, but- if Centurion wins, Dick Lichter himself promised Centurion another shot at the Universal Championship!
Todd: I’m not sure I’d trust the word of Anarchy’s General Manager, but, what choice does Centurion have? All he can do, is fulfill his end of the deal! And that starts tonight, by beating Miss Furry in a ladder match for the Anarchy Championship!
The lights dim as the opening drums of She's My Collar roll through the arena. Miss Furry steps out slowly, but doesn’t acknowledge the crowd.
She calmly walks the ramp and slips between the ropes with minimal effort. She settles into the corner, leaning back casually, licking her paw and cleaning herself in preparation of the upcoming match.
Todd: And here comes the underdog of the night, Miss Furry! Centurion has 25 years of experience on her, but March Madness IS the Cinderella Season: so technically, anything is possible!
Bama: Did you just call her an under“DOG”, Todd? That’s crazy! She’s clearly a cat!
Todd: Semantics aside, Miss Furry is Gravy’s top student: she’s an impressive prospect, no doubt! But this is a tough matchup for her. This kitty may need to use all 9 of her lives if she wants to walk away from this match with a win!
XWF Anarchy Championship
Centurion
- vs -
Miss Furry Ladder Match
1 RP/ 1k
The bell rings and both competitors move at the same time.
Centurion circles immediately, light on his feet, hands ready, eyes locked. Miss Furry cuts across the ring at a sharp angle, accelerating into a sprint. She ducks low under his reach, rebounds off the ropes, and launches into a springboard crossbody!
Centurion catches her clean in midair and pivots, planting his feet before throwing her across the ring with a fallaway slam!
Furry hits the mat hard, rolls through the impact, and springs back up, already moving. She charges again, faster, leaping into a spinning heel kick that clips the side of his head and forces him back a step.
She keeps pressing, firing off a quick combination of forearms and kicks, forcing him toward the ropes. He blocks one strike, traps her arm, and snaps into a tight arm drag that sends her skidding across the canvas. She pops up again, but he is already there, transitioning into a wristlock and twisting it into a hammerlock. He drives her forward, maintaining pressure, then snaps her down with a snapmare and follows with a stiff kick to the back!
Todd: Centurion is off to the hot start! For every move Miss Furry makes, Centurion has an answer!
Bama: Of course he does, Todd! He's had 25 years to study for this test! Miss Furry has him beat on speed and on looks, but in terms of ring savvy, Centurion's got it in spades, baby!
Miss Furry rolls away, using the ropes to pull herself up. Centurion steps forward, but she bursts off the ropes and drives both feet into his chest with a dropkick that sends him backward into the corner. She rushes in, unloading rapid stomps and forearms, forcing him down into a seated position. She backs up and charges for a meteora, but Centurion shifts at the last second and Miss Furry just crashes into the turnbuckles!
Todd: More quick thinking on display from Centurion!
Bama: He got out of the way just in time, and now, Miss Furry's eating that turnbuckle for breakfast!
Centurion grabs Furry from behind and attempts a German suplex, but Furry flips through the motion, landing on her feet. She shoves him forward, he rebounds, she leapfrogs, and as he turns she snaps him down with a quick DDT!
Both competitors hit the mat and roll out of the ring in opposite directions.
Miss Furry scrambles to the outside and grabs a ladder, dragging it into the ring. The metal scrapes loudly as she slides it into position in the center. She sets it up quickly and begins climbing without hesitation.
Todd: Miss Furry has her eye on the prize! She's going for the belt!
Centurion rolls out to the opposite side of the ring, catching his breath before slowly rising. As he gets to his feet, he's greeted to cheers and applause from the front row. He signs a couple autographs and takes a few photographs with a smile, before someone points behind him- and he sees that Miss Furry is almost to the top of the ladder!
Bama: Old man Centurion almost got caught napping!
Centurion quickly slides into the ring before grabbing the ladder and shaking it violently. Before Furry can unclip the belt, she is forced to jump off before losing balance!
But she lands on her feet!
She charges at Centurion like a feral cat, this time with a running knee that catches him in the ribs! She follows with a spinning back kick, then grabs the ladder and drives it into his midsection! The impact doubles him over. She runs the ropes and dropkicks the ladder into him, sending him through the ropes to the outside!
Todd: Centurion is going to be feeling that one tomorrow morning!
She wastes no time, resetting the ladder in the center and climbing again. Her pace is frantic, aggressive, climbing rung after rung. Centurion slides back into the ring and grabs her ankle just as she reaches high. He pulls her down, but she twists midair and snaps off an enzuigiri that knocks him away!
Todd: Miss Furry has her eyes on the prize, and nothing Centurion can do is throwing off her focus!
Bama: She's a cat on the prowl, Todd- and you know what that means!
Todd: I can't say that I do, Bama!
She climbs again, but Centurion recovers quickly and meets her halfway up. They trade strikes at the top, forearms and elbows landing hard as the ladder shakes beneath them. She rakes his face, then drives a headbutt into him. He fires back with a forearm that nearly sends her off, but she clings to the ladder, hooks his arm, and flips her body to swing underneath, dragging him down into a hurricanrana that sends him crashing to the mat!
Both competitors fall from the ladder to the ring!
Bama: IT'S A CRASH LANDING, TODD! TAKE COVER!
After a short recovery period Miss Furry rolls toward the ropes and pulls herself up, then slides out of the ring. She reaches under the apron and drags out a second ladder, smaller and lighter.
Todd: But now Miss Furry is back up- and she's grabbing another ladder!
She throws it into the ring and follows, grabbing it and swinging it into Centurion’s shoulder as he tries to rise. The shot lands solid and staggers him. She strikes again, this time catching him across the back!
Todd: Miss Furry is using every dirty trick in the book! She's hitting Centurion with that ladder just as much as she's climbing it!
Bama: She's trying to make sure Centurion can't climb, Todd! It's a genius strategy! If you cripple your opponent, there's no way you can lose in a ladder match!
She sets the smaller ladder in the ring and quickly stacks it against the larger one, creating an unstable structure. The crowd rises as the risk becomes obvious.
Todd: Uh oh, Bama- it looks like Miss Furry has something dangerous in mind!
Bama: This kitty's got steel claws, Todd! Centurion needs to watch out- or throw some catnip around the ring to distract her!
Centurion moves in to stop her, but she drops low and drives his knee into the ladder with a sharp impact. She grabs his leg and slams it against the steel again, targeting the joint repeatedly. He struggles to pull free, but she wraps his leg around the rung and torques it, applying pressure using the ladder as leverage.
Centurion pulls her off by force, shoving her backward. He stands, favoring his other leg, but remains steady. She charges again, but he sidesteps and lifts her for a back body drop. She flips over, lands on her feet, rebounds off the ropes, and leaps into a tilt-a-whirl attempt!
Centurion catches her mid-rotation and transitions into a crossface position-
But Furry claws at his face and breaks free before it can be fully secured!
She scrambles to the ladder and drives it forward into his injured leg, forcing him back down. Then she restacks the ladders and immediately begins climbing the unstable structure, ignoring the way it shakes under her weight. Centurion forces himself up and follows, climbing from the opposite side despite the damage.
Todd: Miss Furry stacked these ladders on top of each other, but now, it's looking more like a house of cards! That structure could collapse at any minute!
They meet at the top again, trading strikes in a precarious position. The ladders wobble violently beneath them. Centurion throws a punch- and Miss Furry sees her opening!
She leaps forward, wrapping her arms around Centurion's neck-
NINE LIVES LOST!
Furry pulls Centurion into a cutter THROUGH the ladders! The smaller ladder snaps in half as Furry and Centurion fall through it!
Both crash into the mat as the ladders collapse beneath the impact!
The ring is littered with twisted steel and broken bodies!
BAMA: SHE CAUGHT HIM! SHE CAUGHT HIM! NINE LIVES LOST!
Todd: THIS COULD BE IT, BAMA! AND I DON'T MEAN JUST FOR THIS MATCH- I MEAN FOR CENTURION'S CAREER!
BAMA: IT LOOKS LIKE A HIGH-SPEED WRECK IN THAT RING!
Both competitors lie motionless for an uncomfortable amount of time.
The referee tries checking on them, but is hesitant to step into the twisted wreckage.
The audience is left speechless, gasping in shock at the ruin in the ring.
But then, Miss Furry finally begins to stir. She rolls onto her side and crawls toward the ropes before slowly rolling out of the ring.
Then, she grabs the last ladder remaining. With a heavy heave and a painful groan, Miss Furry slides the final ladder into the ring before setting it up beneath the championship belt.
Centurion finally moves as well, slower now, dragging himself toward the base of the ladder.
Furry pulls herself up and begins climbing. Her pace is slower than before, each step painful yet deliberate. Centurion grabs the ladder's base and shakes it, but his strength is diminished. The ladder shifts, but not enough to stop her ascent.
Todd: Centurion lives! But- Miss Furry is already halfway up that ladder!
Bama: Centurion needs to dig deep, Todd! He needs to empty his gas tank and push himself to his limit if he's going to stop Miss Furry now!
Todd: He doesn't have a choice, Bama- he has to do it! He has to unleash his FINAL FANTASY, because he only gets another shot at the Universal Championship if he wins this match!
The crowd knows the stakes! Everyone is on their feet, chanting Centurion's name!
And Centurion can feel the crowd's love for him: he can feel it in his bones and in his soul!
It gives him the strength he needs to starts climbing after her! But each rung is costing him. He's gasping for air and clutching his ribs, his legs barely able to hold him steady. Furry is more than a few rungs above him, nearly at the top!
Todd: Centurion is climbing after Furry- but he might be too late!
Bama: He might be too slow and old!
Furry reaches the top and pauses just long enough to stare out into the crowd with a smirk. Then, she reaches up for the Anarchy Championship belt. She starts pulling at the strap, trying to free it from the clasp.
Centurion reaches up for her leg, but Miss Furry kicks the ladder away and lets her body drop, hanging from the strap. The ladder clatters to the ground, Centurion once again caught in it's wreckage!
With her free hand, Miss Furry reaches up and unhooks the Anarchy Championship.
The bell rings!
Winner and NEW XWF Anarchy Champion: Miss Furry
Furry falls to the mat with the title clutched tightly against her chest. The strap dangles from her wrist as she rolls onto her back, raising the championship. Miss Furry clutches the XWF Anarchy Championship close to her chest as the arena is stunned into silence after her upset victory.
CUT TO: The Announce Table, where Jacuinde Cuauhtemoc and Joe Rogan are joined by a guest commentator for the next match.
JC: Yelena Gorgo has decided to join us for the next match, though it wasn’t… mentioned in my production notes.
YG: (adjusting her headset) Sounds like a ringin’ endorsement. What you should be saying is YOU’RE WELCOME.
Joe Rogan sticks out a meaty hand for a shake.
JR: Hey. We’ve never met. I’d love for you to come onto the podcast sometime.
YG: (shakes his hand) Awh, shucks! You hear that, Jacuinde? That’s what’s called an invitation. You could learn a thing or two from Joe here.
JC: You’re right. I apologize. Thank you for joining us—
YG: Too late. You just made My List.
The pulsating guitar of Wild Thing echoes around the arena, and the crowd immediately turns raucous and excited as the XWF Legend, Centurion, comes out from behind the curtain. He grins, shining his Television Championship at the top of the ramp as the song explodes.
“WILD THING!”
JC: Listen to that crowd sing for the double champ! Over two hundred wins under his belt. Will he add another in his defense against Matthias Syn?
JR: I say no, Juice.
JC: No juice?
YG: Hah.
JR: Yes. No, Juice.
JC: I am so confused.
JR: No. I do not think he can win back to back title matches, Juice.
JC: Oh, you’re calling me Juice. That isn’t my name.
JR: Just roll with it—I believe Matthias Syn represents a unique challenge for the champion. He’s younger. Hungrier. He rightfully pointed out that Centurion has a quarter decade in this business and has never reached the mountain top of becoming XWF Universal champion.
Centurion struts his way down to the ring, slapping the hands of the fans nearby before he rolls underneath the bottom rope. He quickly makes his way to the turnbuckle, holding the TV title on high as the fans pop like crazy for him. He holds himself there for a minute, before hopping off and delivering the TV title off to the referee.
The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together.
JC: Yelena, earlier tonight you defeated Solomon Kline to become the number one contender for the XWF TV title. Do you have a preference on who you’d like to face?
YG: I don’t have a personal preference. But I think Centurion will pull it out.
JC: Why’s that?
YG: Because the algorithm is designed to influence the outcomes and Centurion’s engagement numbers are higher than Syn’s.
JC: Not this again.
YG: If Centurion wins, Musk and Zuckerberg make more money.
JG: I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR YEARS! It’s a conspiracy! I REALLY need to have you on the podcast, Yelena.
After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes. As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the middle turnbuckle awaiting his opponent.
The bell rings out, but you don't even need to hear it to know what's happening. The vibe in the ring tells the whole story. Matthias Syn practically glides out of his corner, chin high, wearing the smirk of a guy who assumes his hand is already getting raised tonight. Across from him? Centurion. Nearly two decades of hard miles on his body, circling with that flat-footed, heavy-shouldered shuffle of a grizzled vet. No wasted energy. No flash. Just business.
They lock up dead center. Syn explodes. He goes right for the throat with raw aggression, trying to bully the champ backward into the turnbuckle. But Centurion just steps out of the way—a simple pivot. He grabs Syn’s wrist, wrenches the joint hard enough to make the younger guy wince, and drops him to the canvas. Not pretty. Not flashy. Just violently efficient.
What happens over the next few minutes is nothing short of a grappling lesson. Syn tries to brawl his way out, throwing dead weight and panic into every escape attempt. Doesn't matter. Centurion is a ghost. Every time Syn moves, the champ is already waiting for him.
JC: Syn pushes up off the mat, desperately grabbing for a waist-lock!
Centurion just sinks his hips. Dead weight. The grip snaps. In a flash, the veteran cranks back a nasty hammerlock and buries his knee straight into the back of Syn’s tricep. You can almost feel the nerve pinch from the cheap seats. Syn thrashes, scrambling to shift the momentum, but Centurion rolls right with the panic. He hooks a tight front facelock, immediately cutting off the challenger's air supply.
A low rumble ripples through the arena. They know exactly what they're watching: pure, suffocating mastery.
CROWD: CENT! CENT! CENT!
JC: Listen to that crowd!
JR: This is what 25 years in the business gets you. There is no substitution for experience in a ring or cage.
Syn is turning red. Giving up on technique entirely, he relies on pure, blind rage. He practically deadlifts himself—and the champion—dragging both of them toward the apron until his fingertips finally scrape the bottom rope.
The ref dives in, waving it off. Break the hold.
REFEREE: One! Two! Three! Let it go!
Centurion releases the hold smoothly, backing away with his hands raised in compliance, completely unbothered by the exchange. Syn pushes himself up from the ropes, his breathing accelerating.
YG: Out-grappled isn’t a good look on Matty Ice.
JC: Syn charges forward with a wild, lunging right hand!
JR: Centurion ducks the wild strike easy! He saw that wide arc coming from a mile away.
But Syn was counting on the dodge. The challenger jams on the brakes, kills his forward momentum, and pivots hard. He stomps his left boot right onto Centurion's thigh. Using the veteran like a damn stepping stone. And launches himself into the air.
A sudden blur of motion. Syn’s right leg whips around for a desperate, brutal step-up enzuigiri.
CRACK.
JC: Centurion is caught flush in the temple, sounding like a gunshot went off in the arena!
JR: A devastating jumping counter kick. The champion didn’t see it coming.
The sound of shin-bone meeting skull echoes all the way to the rafters like a gunshot. The champion's eyes instantly roll back. His legs turn to absolute jelly. Without another word, Centurion just folds, crashing backward to the mat like a sack of wet cement. Lights out.
YG: Fun fact. Enzuigiri means ‘strike to the medulla oblongata’. Syn needs to work on his aim.
JR: Oh, you speak Japanese? That’s impressive.
YG: Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto.
Syn doesn't hesitate. He scrambles across the mat, throwing his entire upper body over the champion's chest and hooking the far leg tight against the torso to prevent any escape.
The referee slides into position, slapping the canvas.
ONE...
TWO...
THR—NO!
Centurion violently jerks his right shoulder off the mat, breaking the plane just a fraction of a second before the referee's hand comes down for the three. Syn rolls off to his knees, clutching his own hair in frustration as he takes several big, struggling breaths.
TEN MINUTES REMAINING
JR: Centurion isn’t getting a breather.
YG: In the ring, a two count is either a back breaker or a firestarter—and Syn looks pissed off.
Syn grabs a fistful of hair and hauls Centurion up.
JR: The technical playbook is tossed right out the window. Syn just wants to break the old man in half.
Whack. Whack. Heavy, clubbing rights smash across the bridge of Centurion’s nose. Syn walks him backward until the ropes bite into his back, then just leans in, grinding a raw forearm deep into the veteran's eye socket. Nasty, ugly stuff. Syn snatches the wrist and whips him across the ring so hard Centurion nearly goes through the cables.
JC: Syn is waiting on the rebound. He grabs the champ around the shoulders, drops straight back, and buries both kneecaps square into Centurion’s lower back!
JR: A gut-wrenching double-knee backbreaker.
Hkkk
YG: Heh. I can literally hear the oxygen punch right out of Centurion's lungs from here!
The champion rolls toward the apron, face twisted in pure agony, clutching at his spine. Syn just watches him crawl. Pacing. Stalking. The absolute second Centurion drags himself up to wobbly knees, Syn pounces. He snags the head, locks it tight under his arm, and rips his hips to the side.
A wicked swinging snap DDT.
JC: The top of Centurion's skull plants into the mat like a lawn dart!
Immediate, toxic heat washes over the crowd. Boos rain down. They absolutely hate this. They hate watching their guy get butchered.
Syn ignores the noise. He’s breathing heavy, sweat dripping from his chin. He drags Centurion up by the jaw, backing him into the turnbuckle. Syn winds up, putting his entire body weight into a massive, lunging clothesline meant to take the champion's head off.
But Centurion isn't there.
Nearly twenty years of ring awareness kicks in. Centurion just drops his levels. Syn's arm crashes blindly into the top turnbuckle pad, jarring his own shoulder socket. Syn staggers backward, clutching his arm, completely thrown off balance.
Centurion forgoes speed for precision. As Syn spins around to find him, Centurion explodes off the mat. Both boots launch straight up. A picture-perfect standing dropkick catches Syn flush under the chin. Jawbone meets leather.
Syn hits his hands and knees.
JC: Syn’s eyes are glazed with confusion.
…And he’s crawling blindly toward the center of the ring. His head shakes, trying to clear the cobwebs as he wills himself back to his feet.
JR: He has no idea Centurion is already locked and loaded in the corner.
Syn turns around. Centurion charges out of the turnbuckle like he was shot out of a cannon.
CRACK. A blistering bicycle knee strike—a textbook V TRIGGER (Bicycle Knee Strike)—explodes against the side of Syn’s temple. Sweat and spit launch into the third row. Syn’s body goes completely rigid before folding into a heap on the mat.
JC: Centurion falls right on top of him, throwing his exhausted, battered frame into a desperate lateral press and hooking the far leg!
The ref slides into position.
ONE...
TWO...
THR—NO!
Syn kicks out hard, throwing his shoulder up to break the count. On their backs, both stare up at the arena lights. Chests heave, burning with every breath.
FIVE MINUTES REMAINING
Sweat flies. Lungs burn. The 15-minute time limit is a guillotine hanging over the ring. The exhaustion drips off their faces.
JC: Syn pushes himself up but Centurion is right there with him. A draw means Syn goes home empty-handed.
JR: Yelena, you’ve been in this situation against Charlie Nickles, knowing you were fighting not only the champion, but the clock itself.
YG: Yeah, and guess what happened. He hung on. Buzzer went off. Right now, Syn just looked up at the clock. Panic sets in as he realizes in a few short minutes, he’s going home empty handed. Unless he can get the job done.
THREE MINUTES REMAINING
Syn charges blindly. He throws a wild, looping right hook. Centurion easily ducks underneath, hooks the waist, and dumps the challenger right on his neck with a nasty Saito Suplex. Centurion scrambles over, throwing his weight across Syn's chest.
ONE...
TWO...
THR—NO!
JC: Syn kicks out on pure survival instinct. Both men scramble to their feet. Centurion swings a heavy clothesline, but Syn ducks under, catches the veteran's leg, and rolls him backward into a desperate inside cradle!
ONE...
TWO...
THR—NO!
JR: Centurion bursts out!
They both stumble to their feet, swaying like drunkards. The arena is deafening.
CROWD: THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME!
JC: Centurion strikes first. He steps in, grabs Syn's arm, ducks under, and hoists the heavy challenger right up onto his shoulders.
JR: He's got him zeroed in for the 1000 MILE SLAM!
Syn thrashes wildly. He kicks his legs, slipping out the back and landing directly in front of the champion. Before Centurion can even turn his head, Syn throws his arms around the veteran's neck, trapping the arm tight. The trap is sprung. He’s setting up the SYNTHEORY (Arm-trap Triangle Choke).
Syn twists his entire body weight to the side, trying to trip Centurion down to the mat to fully lock it in.
YG: Failure in motion.
But Centurion feels the shift in gravity. At the exact last second, the veteran twists his own body, catching Syn around the torso. He uses Syn's downward momentum against him, launching the challenger overhead. A massive belly-to-belly suplex. They crash into the canvas, with Centurion slamming all his body weight down directly on top of Matthias.
JC: Brutal impact!
YG: Syn attempted a Kata-Gatame but it was doomed from the start. Centurion saw it coming a mile away and made the adjustment.
JR: That landing was rough, Juice. I think it knocked every single ounce of air straight out of Syn’s lungs.
The chokehold shatters instantly. Syn is completely breathless, gasping at the canvas like a fish on a dock. Centurion doesn't give him a second to breathe. The veteran grabs both of Syn's ankles, steps right through, and violently cranks the challenger over onto his stomach. Centurion drops his weight back, sitting deep.
The FALL OF ROME (Walls of Jericho) is locked in dead center of the ring.
Syn screams. His lower back, already pulverized from the earlier backbreakers, bends at a sickening, unnatural angle. His face turns bright red. He claws at the mat, dragging himself forward in pure agony. Inch by agonizing inch. His fingertips scrape the canvas until he finally manages to grab the bottom rope.
REFEREE: One! Two! Three! Break it!
Centurion lets go, collapsing backward to the mat.
ONE MINUTE REMAINING
JC: Time is running out! Syn is desperately pulling himself up by the ropes.
JR: His legs are completely gone.
Centurion sees the time flashing across the in-arena display.
YG: He has to end this right now if he wants to walk out of here with a lick of self-respect.
The veteran backs into the opposite corner, stalking the battered challenger.
Syn stumbles blindly toward the center of the ring, clutching his ribs. He's a sitting duck.
JC: Centurion goes for the 1000 Mile Slam!
Centurion lowers his head to pick Syn up but Syn pivots! Out of absolutely nowhere, he twists around and catch Centurion by the head, using the champion's own charging momentum against him. Syn violently twists his body mid-air and spikes the veteran face-first into the mat.
JC: SYNTHESIS!!!!!!!!!
JR: Centurion’s body goes completely limp!
Syn collapses into a heap right on top of him, hooking the far leg for dear life.
TWENTY SECONDS
JC: The referee slides in!
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
Winner And NEEEEEEEEW XWF Television Champion: Matthias Syn
JC: We got a new Television Champion!!!
The bell rings out rapidly. Syn immediately rolls off the veteran, flat on his back, staring blankly up at the arena rafters while clutching his ribs in agony. The referee grabs Syn's arm, hauling the exhausted, battered youth to his shaky feet and raising his hand high. Matthias Syn is the new XWF Television Champion. Across the ring, Centurion remains unmoving on the canvas, the physical toll of the brutal fifteen-minute war leaving him unconscious under the lights.
Syn raises the belt overhead. His music mashes into the roar of boos, creating a speaker-vibrating rumble. He doesn’t care. Matthias is all smiles—until he turns in the direction of the announce table.
Yelena Gorgo is standing next to Rogan and JC, clapping. Slow. Exaggerated. Behind her in the first several rows, the fans have donned plastic Yelena masks.
Syn yells loud enough for the camera-mounted mic to pick him up.
SYN: I’ll see you soon.
[video=youtube]ZQn8BT9mQQE[/video]
The motherfuckin' saga just begun....
A flash of pyrotechnics go off across the stage, lighting up the arena in green and red. Then, the challengers step through the curtain and onto the ramp. A violent remix of a reggae anthem blares across the PA system.
WARNING!
Warning!
Warning!
Warning!
Charlie Nickles walks forward first- cracking his knuckles, twisting his neck, and wearing a pissed off look on his face.
And walking behind him?
Is the man carrying Sebastian's old Universal Championship over his shoulder.
Is the man formerly known as The Director.
With his mask off.
KILLIN'!
Killin'!
Killin'!
Killin'!
Jordan Penn, once known as the Director, walks down the ramp with Sebastian's old title on his shoulder- and with a shit-eating grin on his face.
The crowd is caught in a state of quiet shock as Gucci Mane's song blares through the PA system.
They never thought they'd see the day the Director unmasked!
Killin' dem' pussy, we kill dem' fi' fun!
Killin' a pussy, we kill dem' fi' fun!
Killin' pussy, we kill dem' fi' fun!
Charlie Nickles rolls under the bottom rope and slides into the ring, bouncing around like a wild man ready to let loose.
Jordan Penn, on the other hand, walks up the stairs with a regal swagger. Then, he steps between the ropes before showing off Sebastian's old belt in front of the hardcam.
Before 'im come, The Nickleman come-
Before 'im come, Jordan Penn come!
Charlie paces around the ring, testing the ropes whilst Jordan Penn hands his championship belt over to the referee for safekeeping.
Man I murder fo' fun but my job is never done!
From morning morn' to the setting of the sun-
Bad men come come, come get murdered for fun!
Charlie and Jordan wait impatiently in the center of the ring, anxiously awaiting the ringing of the murder bell.
JC: Energetic and… Surprising entrance from The Nickleman and Jordan Penn, formerly known as The Director.
JR: You don’t fuck with Gucci Mane, Jacuinde?
JC: I dabble, Joe.
[video=youtube]LP71k7S0jds[/youtube]
“Martin had a dream…”
The beat drops like a hammer as the crowd goes wild. The stans in the stands bop up and down to the iconic Sweatpants beat while rapping along to Kendrick’s Backseat Freestyle verse. The mashup highlights both how similar and dysfunctional this pairing is.
White-hot strobes flash, timed perfectly to every thump of the bass. There’s no warm up, The Exiles are approaching and everyone knows it.
“All my life, I want money and power
Respect my mind or die from lead shower”
The screen glitches to life, a black background with a grey logo and some words:
“The Exiles
Not a choice, a sentence.”
Two spotlights snap on from opposite ends of the stage, on the left: Sebastian Everett-Bryce, dressed in a long black coat. His chin tilts upwards slightly, a wry smile pastered on it - hiding his disdain for this situation. He adjusts the arms on his coat mid-stride, as he makes his way down to the ring. The shining tag-belt glimmers from his waist.
On the right: Isaiah King, no cape or theatrics, simply a weathethered grey leather jacket over some wrestling tights and boxing boots. He glances at the name on the screen and shows visible disgust, he carries the tag belt by the strap.
“Gadamn I feel amazin’”
They converge halfway down the way but don’t acknowledge each other, not a glance or a nod.
BG: These two are making a mockery of the tag division! They ain’t no team, this looks more like a ceasefire!
JC: They ain’t no unit - they’re just to apex predators lining up their next meal.
The crowd’s noise is deafening - divided and rowdy. Some bounce to the beat, others boo like they’re watching two egos that deserve to eat each other alive.
As the two get to the ring, Isaiah slides through the bottom ropes while SEB makes his way to the stairs for a more graceful entry. They both make their way to the centre of the ring, faces cracking at the discomfort before shifting to accommodate the other.
Isaiah lifts the belt up into the air while Sebastian spreads his coat to draw attention to the other half as their theme slowly comes to a quiet.
JC: And our Tag Team Champions enter with style and flash together for the first time in what feels like a while, Joe.
JR: It’s been a while, their formation was tenuous to say the least and them being together has been a long interwebbed rivalry.
JC: Cain and Abel be damned.
Starting the match is Charlie Nickles and Isaiah King, Penn and SEB on the apron. The referee takes the titles and holds them up to the hard camera.
JC: Lot of bad blood in this match, Nickles is itching to fight King over an attack on Jennie and Jordan Penn?
JR: Sebastian’s long lost brother?! Talk about a fucking twist, M. Night Shyamalan be damned.
And Charlie Nickles sprints in with a belly full of fire and clatters Isaiah with a nasty forearm before wrenching at his wrist and whipping him into the ropes with force. On the rebound Charlie hurls his body into King but The Prince manages to leap over Charlie and hits the other ropes, coming back with a slingblade and the two are on the mat.
Nickles rushes up to his feet as Isaiah kips up and takes King’s head off with a big boot!
Isaiah drops to his back tapping his nose as he sits up and Nickles hits the ropes and sprints into King’s back and clocks the back of his neck with a low elbow!
King reels on the ground and Charlie goes in for the early pin.
ONE!
…
KICKOUT AT TWO!
Charlie lifts King up by the neck and gets him in a chinlock before delivering a stiff punch to his face!
And another!
But on the third King roars and drops Nickles with a back body drop!
Isaiah shakes the cobwebs as Nickles is winded for a moment and King rolls to his front and crawls to the corner as SEB holds out his hand but Charlie halts his movement!
Quickly turning and striking King’s spine with an elbow and moving up and stomping on King’s calves and drags him away from the corner.
Nickles hits the ropes again and lands a BIG LEG DROP on King’s spine who cries out in agony and goes for another pin attempt.
ONE
…
TWO
Serbastian gets a foot in the ring.
KICKOUT! AT TWO AND A HALF!
Nickles plucks King up once more but King comes to life!
Throwing back with a stiff kidney punch!
Followed by a liver shot!
And a left-right jab combo!
Nickles is wobbled!
And King takes full advantage!
LONELY ROAD!!!
Ushigoroshi followed up with a stiff knee!
Nickles is out!
But Isaiah is down too, sucking in air as he’s over-exhausted himself!
Both men make a slow crawl to their corners.
Both their partners dangling over the ropes for the tag.
The crowd are on their feet.
Nickles’ hand slaps Penn’s!
And Isaiah tags in SEB!
The long-lost brothers finally meet in the ring!
And charge one another opening up with fists!
Both men beating the shit out of one another but SEB breaks the hockey fight creating distance and spinning into a side kick which cracks Penn’s ribs!
Penn stumbles back as SEB drives in but Penn catches him and locks him into an arm-trap, delivering a brutal headbutt before sending him back with a gorgeous arm-trap release suplex!
Bryce bounces off the mat cradling his back and stands back up as Penn goes to take his head off with a superkick but SEB ducks under and gets to Penn’s back for a German Suplex!
But Penn rolls at the apex and lands deftly on his feet pushing SEB into the ropes!
SEB turns and runs forward as Penn grabs his wrist and whips him around looking for-
THE WHIP CRACK!
COUNTERED!
Sebastian ducks under the ripcord clothesline and gets behind Penn once more but this time the German Suplex lands with authority!
Seb keeps a tight hold on Penn and launches him with another Suplex into the turnbuckle!
But Jordan has the wherewithal to angle his body to land back first on top of the turnbuckle and stays there instead of bouncing off.
As SEB gets to his feet, Penn quickly launches off the top rope and catches SEB with THE SMALL PRINT!!!
Sebastian clatters to the ground as Penn rolls on the mat clutching his shin.
Both men take a moment but Penn is up first, hobbling slightly as he goes to pick up SEB but Sebastian was playing possum!
And rolls-up Penn!
The ref dives in for the count!
ONE!
…
TWO!!!
…
KICKOUT!!!
The two release and roll to their feet, SEB drives in-
EMPIRE KICK!!!
BUT PENN DUCKS!!!
And counters with a bulldog!
The crowd trade chants as both men take a moment to catch a breath and return to their feet.
Penn opens with a knee to SEB’s gut but SEB retaliates with a sharp chop across Penn’s chest and gains a modicum of space.
Penn returns with a spinning backfist but SEB ducks the hit and sends Penn down to the mat with THE STAMFORD BRIDGE!!!
A beautiful bridging Tiger Suplex.
The ref counts…
ONE!
….
TWO!!!!.
……
THR-NO!!!
As Charlie Nickles rushes the ring and sends a steel chair down onto SEB’s stomach!
King enters immediately and throws his body into Nickles and the two continue to brawl in the ring as the ref tries and fails to get them out.
As SEB nurses his ribs and Penn cradles his neck, King takes advantage of Nickles and makes some space with a ruthless uppercut before taking the chair and headshotting Charlie!
The sound of metal echoes through the cathedral.
And King falls to a knee sucking in air and winces in pain from the strikes.
As Penn, from out of nowhere, runs in and takes King out with FINAL CUT!!!
King falls back and recoils off the mat as he rolls to the apron.
Charlie crawls back to his corner, a hand over his head as he kneels using the ropes to keep himself upright.
Penn stumbles to his feet, his legs almost given in as he uses the top rope to keep himself upright and roars in as he stomps the mat begging for SEB to get back up. Egging him on.
Sebastian pushes himself off the ground and drunkenly turns as Penn rushes in and goes for a big kick but SEB cuts him short, surprising him and rushing in for NIGHTFALL!!!!
Twisting around Penn’s body and locking in the sleeper!
Penn pushes back and the two keep on their feet and head into SEB’s corner as Penn tries to fight back!
King groggily gets to his feet and tags himself in seeing red, much to SEB’s ire.
JC: Sebastian could have ended things there with Nightfall! What was King thinking!?
JR: He wants a piece of Penn, Jacuinde! Look at Charlie, he’s out after that chairshot! It’s a two on one anyway!
SEB stares a hole through Isaiah as King enters the ring, SEB releases the hold and Penn drops gasping for air as King throws a sharp knee into Penn’s jaw before grabbing him in a full nelson and moving back to the opposite ropes, shouting at SEB to end things!
The two stare off across the ring as SEB sneers and pushes his back into the ropes and launches towards the two.
As SEB is running, Charlie comes to life and just barely manages to tag himself in his fingertips connecting Penn’s shoulder.
SEB, still in motion, launches for THE EMPIRE KICK!!!
BUT PENN DUCKS JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME AND ISAIAH KING EATS ALL OF IT!!!
SEB gets to his feet, his eyes wide as a King is staggered, his back pushes against the ropes before he falls face first onto the mat and Nickles rushes in for the cover!
And as SEB goes to break it up…
EMPIRE KICK FROM JORDAN PENN!
THE BOOT CONNECTS WITH SEB’S JAW AND HE’S OUT!!!
CHARLIE NICKLES MAKES THE COVER!!!
ONE!
…
TWO!!!
…
THREE!!!!!!
WINNERS AND NEW XWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS - JORDAN PENN & CHARLIE NICKLES - BoB!
JC: Well, up next ladies and gentleman, the XWF XTreme Championship is on the line, and do you know what that means, Joe?
JR: Absolutely! It means that this holy venue here in Barcelona is about to see some ungodly crrange.
JC: Especially with these two competing here tonight. Samael Dyson, the current champion, and Jenny Myst, the challenger, do not like one another. If you didn’t know that by their backstage interactions, the entire world found out during their respective promos against one another in the lead up to this contest.
JR: Both of these two are violent by nature, Jac. This one is going to need some view discret-… Wait, hold on… I just got word of a commotion in the church headed to the ring!
JC: You’re right, Joe, something is going down right now. We’re cutting to it live!
The shot cuts to the main area of the church, surrounded by pews, and an all out brawl is occurring in the aisles! We see a legion of Samael Dyson’s masked insignificants crowding around someone….someone who happens to be Jenny Myst! Sam’s minions are surrounding her, fighting her fist tooth and nail, but she’s giving back the same!
JC: Good lord, there has to be like 15 Insignificants there to one Jenny Myst! How is she surviving?!
We then see one Insiginificant with a chain wrapped around his knuckles throw a wild haymaker at Jenny, but she ducks and he decks one of the other masked underlings instead. Then, while she’s bent low she punches another one in the crotch, doubling him over. But then, an Insignificant jumps on Jenny’s back, pancaking her to the floor and the others start raining boots down on her as she struggles to get up!
JR: There’s just too many of those freakshows. And where the hell is the champ?!
JC: Letting his minions soften Jenny up before he makes his grand entrance no doubt! What a cowardly, ruthless move!
JR: But smart!
Just then, the lights throughout the church go out, and we hear a familar leering laugh echo throughout the environs.
“Heh heh heh hehhhhhhh.”
And then, a single small light appears up next to the priest’s lectern. The camera zooms in on it. It just barely illuminates Sam’s vile expression. But then you take not of the light he’s holding itself. It appears to be a lantern….a lantern made out of….
JR: Is that? IS THAT?!
JC: Oh God, please don’t let this be real! It looks like that lantern is made out of….MADISON DYSON’S DECAPITATED HEAD!
That’s exactly what it is, in fact! Samael is holding it by her withered hair and a circular light has been pressed into her distended mouth. The neck is still nothing but torn and ragged flesh trickling blood!
JC: I THINK I’M GONNA BE SICK!
JR: Oh man, I’ve seen some fucked up shit in the XWF so far, but this is by far the fuckiest!
JC: *Dry heaves*
Samael: Jenny! I put some serious thought into where the conclusion of our war should end! And I could think of nothing more suitable than the crypt beneath this very church! The sanctum of decay that lurks beneath this grand house of false hope! Come with me Jenny! LET’S DIE TOGETHER! BWAHAHAHAHA!
With that, Samael Dyson fades from view, taking his disgusting lantern with him. The lights come back on and the Insignificants are still beating on Jenny Myst!
JR: She might not even make it to the crypt.
JC: I think that’s exactly what Samael Dyson wants! He’s not looking for a contest here, he’s looking to cheat his way to victory like he always does.
Suddenly, a fist impacts one of the Insignificants in the face, and another one gets booted in the midsection. Jenny Myst is fighting back! But just as soon as she starts to get some momentum, the masses swarm her again!
JC: Oh, there’s just too many!
JR: Wait, wait, wait, do you see that?!
Suddenly, a figure in a black hoodie enters the fray! The newcomer explodes into the throng of Insignificants, landing blow after blow and allowing Jenny Myst some breathing room to get back to her feet and keep fighting!
JC: Who is that?!
???: Go, I’ll keep them busy! Finish off Samael!
Jenny nods, no doubt thankful and a bit confused by the mysterious assist, and puts some distance between herself and the fight to get to Samael Dyson. She rushes down the length of the church, following the signs until she gets to one indicated the entrance to the subterranean crypts.
Jenny: Well if this doesn’t feel like a trap nothing does. But I’ve gotta end this fucker once and for all.
With that, she plunges down the staircase into the crypts below!
JR: I’m getting the heeby jeebies just looking at that place.
JC: It’s the burial place of Antoni Gaudi, the man who initiated the building of this grand cathedral.
JR: Well it might be the burial place of somebody else tonight.
Jenny steps onto the stone floors of the crypts. Suddenly, two figures appear out of one of the entrances to a burial plot. It’s Elektra and Violet, the Rollerwhores!
JC: Oh no!
Jenny: Fuck me!
Jenny, still feeling the effects of the last fight, doggedly drops into a fighting stance as The Rollerhwhores launch themselves at her. Violet throws a high kick which Jenny blocks, but Elektra sweeps Jenny’s legs out from under her. Jenny falls but quickly kips back up to her feet, blocking and hitting back against the sadistic duo. But before long, Violet lands a deciding blow with a fierce elbow to the side of Jenny’s head. Jenny falters and stumbles up to the metal fencing that lines the crypt. Violet comes in for the kill when once again the black hoodied figure intervenes, blindsiding Violet with a superkick! With the assist in hand, Jenny Myst turns to Elektra, booting her in the gut while she’s surprised and DDT’ing her on the stone floor! Elektra’s head cracks violently. When the dust clears, Jenny looks at the mysterious figure warily.
Jenny: I really don’t like surprises. Tell me who you are.
???: No “thank you”? Very well.
The man drops the hood back revealing….KRISTOFFER ARROYO?!
JR: NO WAY!
JC: I can’t believe it! We saw him get executed by Violet during Samael’s last promo!
JR: And dumped into an open grave!
Jenny: Aren’t you supposed to be dead?
Kristoffer: Well, I was already dead. Suffice it to say, I got better.
Jenny: At any rate, I should probably thank you for the help.
Kristoffer: You’re welcome. But my motivations are selfish. I want to see you embarrass Samael. He despises you, and losing to you would destroy him. I just want to see that come to fruition.
Jenny: You don’t need to worry about that.
Suddenly, there’s a peal of shrieking manical laughter in the distance. Jenny turns towards Samael’s calling and doggedly proceeds down the length of the crypt once more. She turns back to say something else to Kristoffer, but finds he’s already gone. With that, she retrains her sights going forward and finally sees a sign indicating the crypt of Antoni Gaudi himself. She turns into it, and finds Samael sitting cross legged on top of the stonework above the crypt with Madison’s decapitated head sitting in front of him. Jenny grimaces at the gruesome sight.
Jenny: Shit, I’m not even sure Madison deserved that.
Samael: Well you didn’t have the “pleasure” of being her son, so you can keep your judgements to yourself.
Samael stands up, grabbing the lantern made out of Madison’s head.
Samael: In fact Jenny, if you feel so bad for her, WHY DON’T YOU KISS IT AND MAKE IT ALL BETTER!
In a flash of vicious movement, Samael lunges at Jenny with Madison’s head, cracking her in the face with it and sending her stumbling backwards out of the crypt. Samael doggedly follows her, lifting the head high above and sending it crashing down on the back of Jenny’s skull again. Jenny reels, falling into the metal fencing and shaking her head to regain her bearings. Samael approaches her again, but Jenny shocks him, exploding into him with a running STO that sends Samael crashing to the floor and Madison’s head spinning away.
JC: UGH! Imagine getting hit in the face with that head!
JR: Well it looks like Jenny didn’t allow it to phase her for long.
Jenny doesn’t waste any time, launching herself up and driving her knees down into Samael’s chest. Finally, a referee comes puffing into frame, having run all the way down to the catacomb.
Jenny grabs a helping of Samael’s hair and wrenches him to his feet, but with a gleeful laugh he pulls something out of his pocket and launches it into Jenny’s face!
JR: Was that pocket sand?!
JC: It was pocket sand!
Samael tags Jenny with a sloppy knee lift to her abdomen, followed by a wild uppercut that dumps the challenger to the floor. Samael covers Jenny!
1…..NO! Jenny rolls a shoulder out with authority!
Samael screams in fury and pulls Jenny to her feet, tossing her into the steel fencing on the other side of the corridor. Jenny seems to still be struggling to see thanks to that pocket sand, and she runs right into a haphazard clothesline from Samael. Samael then proceeds to lay some vicious stomps into her before going to grab the Madison head lantern. Samael returns with the lantern to brain Jenny with it again, but she surprises him with a boot to the crotch from her prone position. She then wraps him up with an inside cradle!
1……
2…….NO! Samael kicks out!
JC: Imagine how humiliated Samael would have been to lose right there. And he almost did!
Jenny rubs the remaining sand from her eyes and retrains his gaze on Samael. She knees him in the face as he goes to get up, and then drops and elbow down on the back of his head. Jenny then boots Madison’s head down the hall for good measure before spotting a vase with flowers in it in one of the crypts. She dashes over, grabs it, brings it back and brains Samael over the back of the head with it! It shatters everywhere and Samael goes down! She quick covers him again!
1….
2…..
3…..NO! Samael rolls a shoulder up!
JR: Oh but look at the back of Sam’s head! He’s been busted open by that vase!
Indeed, Sam’s hair now has a crimson sheen in the back. He’s slow to get up from that shot, and Jenny answers that by hitting a basement dropkick to his head.
JC: Jenny seems to be focusing on Sam’s head here, a crafty move by the wily veteran Miss Myst!
Samael Dyson drops flat to the mat before she even gets there, his arms spread, laughing, inviting the pain!
Jenny obliges.
STOMP!
Right to the face.
STOMP!!
Again.
STOMP!!! STOMP!!! STOMP!!!
Rapid, brutal, dare we say Blissful curb stomps raining down as Samael’s head bounces violently off the canvas.
JC: She’s trying to cave his skull in!
Jenny grabs a fistful of the champion’s hair, and yanks him upright. Samael’s grin is already smeared red.
He BITES her wrist!!!
Hard.
Jenny jerks back with a sharp gasp, Samael HEADBUTTS her square in the mouth!
A sickening crack echoes throughout the arena.
Jenny stumbles, nad now Samael lunges… Jenny ducks a wild swing, and spins…
FOREARM SMASH TO THE CHAMPION!
Samael reels while Jenny takes off and hits the ropes. She rebounds and..
Tilt-a-whirl HEADSCISSORS TAKEDOWN!
Samael spikes awkwardly on his shoulder and neck!
Jenny pops up, relentless, ready to capitalize on this momentum she’s building!
JC: Joe, we’ve been witnessing a career renaissance for Jenny Myst here in the XWF. She left. She traveled. She had MAJOR success. And now she’s reminding the XWF audiences, and the world exactly what she’s capable of!
JR: Jenny has always been supremely talented. The only question was not if, but WHEN would she put it all together here in the XWF. It appears as if that moment is now!
Jenny pauses for half a second. But that’s all it takes. Samael surges forward and- - -
LOW BLOW!!!!
JR: OH FOR GOD’S SAKE!
Jenny folds instantly allowing Sam to grab her up…
BEAL TOSS!
Jenny flies across the ring, crashes hard, rolls, BUT SOMEHOW ROLLS TO HER FEET!
Sam turns to chase after, but it doesn’t matter.
Jenny charges again, she leaps and catches the champion with a Thesz Press before he can even muster any semblance of a follow-up.
Sam falls to the ground while Jenny begins a series of mounted punches!
Left! Right! Right!
Her fists piston down on his face…but unbelievably, Samael is just laughing through it.
He grabs her hair, pulls her down and BITES her forehead.
JC: HE’S BITING HER AGAIN!
Jenny screams! She drives a knee up into his face and breaks free…
Jenny waits for Samael to stumble to his feet before hitting an arm drag on him and nailing him with a series of nasty elbow shots. Jenny then reels back and kicks Samael in the back of the head, getting some blood on her boot.
JR: Samael in a really bad way here.
Jenny pulls Samael up again and goes to spike him with the Go To Hell DDT, but Samael counters at the last second, fighting out wildly, and then pushing his finger down his throat to puke all over Jenny! The Bouquet of Roses!
JC: Oh that is disgusting!
Jenny looks absolutely repulsed having Sam’s vomit on her, and he uses the opening to grab her by the hair and pull her into a headbutt, followed by a slap to her eardrum that sends Jenny tumbling down. Sam forces himself on top of Jenny for the cover!
1…..
2……
3…..NOPE! Jenny kicks out!
Enraged, Samael gets Jenny vertical and rams her into the steel grating again, over and over, before dumping her on the back of her head with a reverse DDT! Samael covers once more!
1…..
2……
3…..NOOOOOO! Jenny still won’t stay down!
Angrier still, Sam wanders into one of the crypts and comes out wearing his metal gauntlet and holding a bottle of lighter fluid! Sam douses the gauntlet in the fluid and then pulls out a match, setting it ablaze!
JC: Oh no! Samael calling for the Flaming Thumper Heart Punch.
JR: Which is still the intellectual property of his father Matthew X, but don’t tell Samael that!
Samael cackles maliciously as he admires the flames on the gauntlet for a moment. Then, he measures Jenny as she rises to her feet. Samael reels back to clobber her…..BUT JENNY JUST BARELY DUCKS UNDER THE BLOW! Samael falters from his own momentum and Jenny dropkicks him in the back! Samael slams against the wall, sandwiching the flaming gauntlet against his chest! Samael screeches as he catches fire!
JC: Jenny Myst turning the flames against the Xtreme champion!
Samael throws himself on the floor to stop drop and roll the flames away, dropping his gauntlet in the process. Jenny wastes no time leaping on Samael for the cover!
1….
2….
3…..NOPE! Another kick out by Samael!
Samael vengefully throws Jenny off of him and goes to grab his gauntlet again, but Jenny is able to push it away, burning her hand a bit in the process from the hot metal! Jenny cries out in pain, yanking her hand back. Samael then launches himself at Jenny, wrapping his hands around her throat and blatantly strangling her! Jenny kicks and fights in response, and she’s finally able to rake his eyes with her nails to get him off of her, but Jenny looks to be seeing some stars from a lack of oxygen. She wobbles to her feet and Samael does the same. He throws a haymaker at Jenny, but she blocks and punches him in the face right back. They devolve into trading blows back and forth until Samael finally get an advantage and pastes Jenny with one, dropping her back onto the floor. Samael picks up the gauntlet again and starts looking about for the lighter fluid but he can’t find it. Cursing and sputtering, Samael then turns back around just in time to meet a flying lariat from Jenny. She drops him and he gets up. She lariats him again, this time planting him down.
JR: Man these two are fighting fist tooth and nail here!
JC: Yeah, but Jenny needs to avoid getting hit with that gauntlet at all costs!
Jenny covers Samael again, but before she can get in position fully, Samael decks her in the face with the gauntlet!
JR: You were saying?!
Jenny rolls away, holding the rapidly growing bruise from the unforgiving steel. Samael staggers up and approaches Jenny. He waits for her to get up and goes to hit her with the gauntlet again….
…..BUT JENNY REVERSES! She leaps up onto Samael’s gauntletted arm and pulls him down into an arm bar! She synches it in deep and Samael howls in pain and anger! When Jenny is finally finished with the hold, Samael’s arm seems to have gone limp and he drops the gauntlet again. Jenny capitalizes then by nailing Samael with the GO TO HELL DDT! She covers!
1……
2…….
3…………NOOOOOOO!
JC: Oh my God, so close!
Jenny gets up and starts desperately arguing with the ref, who maintains that it was just a heartbreaking 2.99 count! Meanwhile, Samael crawls up onto all fours, looking stunned out of his gourd. But then he sees it, the lighter fluid! He swipes it up.
Jenny approaches Samael, looking to heft him to his feet again, but as she goes to pick him up Samael squirts the lighter fluid in her eyes! Jenny screams in shock and pain, suddenly unable to see yet again! Samael grips the steel fencing to force himself up. Then, approaching Jenny, he forces her around and boots her in the stomach. Then, he gut wrenches her up and power bombs her right onto the gauntet! Jenny screams and arches her back in agony!
JC: OH! Right on that spiked gauntlet!
Samael then scrambles to his feet, picks Jenny up again into a tombstone piledriver position. He waggles his tongue above Jenny’s crotch and drives her skull first into the gauntlet!!!
JC: OH MY GOD!
JR: Jenny’s busted open!
Jenny’s forehead is a bloody mess as Sam rolls her over for a pin!
1…..
2……
3…….!!!!! Jenny finally stays down!
Winner and Still XWF X-Treme Champion: Samael Dyson!
JC: I’ll be damned, Samael Dyson pulled off another defense of the Xtreme championship!
JR: Yeah, but you know that wherever he is, Kristoffer Arroyo is gonna be pissed!
The stonework of the Lost Cathedral of Sagrada Familia swallows the sound of the crowd, turning a dull roar into an echoing, cavernous rumble. In one corner, Michael Graves stands a tower of menace. Green is smeared across his face, jawline and throat, a reminder of his earlier match against Asher Hayes.
Across from him, Scoops McGee. Sixty four years of hard miles and iron grit. He’s standing with a noticeable tilt, favoring the left side of his hip. His left hand braces his brutalized lower spine, aching from the war he waged against Dick Watson.
JC: We are live inside the cavernous Lost Cathedral, and the atmosphere in here is absolutely chilling. Micheal Graves looks like a monster straight out of a slasher film.
JR: Man, look at Scoops. He is already favoring that lower back from the Watson match earlier tonight. Going into the grind against a guy the size of Graves with a compromised lumbar? That is bananas. His back is completely shredded.
JC: Graves fires out of the corner! No hesitation!
He closes the distance before Scoops can fully square up, trapping the veteran against the turnbuckles. Heavy, looping body shots. Thud. Thud. Graves drives his knuckles directly into the compromised ribs and lower back.
JR: Like a battering ram of meat and bone! He is just teeing off on him! Listen to the sound of those body shots, JC! He's targeting that injured spine right out of the gate!
Scoops gasps. A sharp hiss rushing out of him. The old man gets his guard up, trying to weather the storm but Graves grabs him by the throat, looking to hurl him across the ring but Scoops fights free. He drops his center of gravity, slipping the grip as a wild lariat sails over his head.
JC: Scoops ducks the lariat! He grabs the left arm, wrenching it behind Graves' back into a tight hammerlock!
JR: That's that clever veteran timing! He dropped his center of gravity perfectly to slip that grip. Now he's trying to ground the bigger man, cranking that shoulder joint!
It doesn't last. Graves throws a blind back elbow, catching Scoops flush on the bridge of the nose. The hold breaks. Scoops stumbles backward, blinking away the stars.
JR: Graves is just too big, man. Too violent. He just brute-forced his way out of that!
Graves stalks forward. Scoops is using the top rope for balance when the powerhouse seizes him. The old timer’s feet leave the mat, Graves lifting him with terrifying ease, then tosses him backwards.
JC: Graves hooks him up—sickening Fallaway Slam!
Scoops crashes onto the canvas. The impact rattles his injured spine against the hard mat. Graves drops down for the cover, driving his thick forearm directly into Scoops' face, smothering his nose and mouth.
JR: He tossed him like he weighed absolutely nothing! And right onto that injured spine! That is devastating!
ONE...
TWO...
THR—NO!
Scoops gets a shoulder up. He rolls onto his stomach, immediately clutching his lower back. He tries to push up to his hands and knees. His left arm shakes.
JC: Scoops manages to get the shoulder up!
JR: His left arm is literally shaking. His nervous system is just in shock from that impact. He is operating purely on survival instinct right now.
The distant roars of the crowd ring out.
“Let's go Scoops! Let's go Scoops!”
Graves ignores the chant. There is no slowing down. His hands tighten around the loose hair on the back of Scoop’s head and drags the man back to his feet. A whip sends the old timer into the ropes. On the rebound, Graves winds up and delivers a heavy-handed chop. Skin on skin, the horrific crack echoes throughout the cathedral.
JC: Oh my god, listen to the crack of that slap!
JR: Jesus! That sounded like a gunshot!
Scoops' legs turn to jelly. He crumples forward, but Graves catches him by the neck. He twists the veteran, dropping to the matto execute a jarring Neck Breaker. The back of Scoops' skull bounces off the canvas.
Graves throws a heavy leg over the chest. Another forearm ground into the jawline.
ONE…
TWO…
THR—NO!
JC: A desperate kickout!
JR: Look at the way he’s holding his neck. He came into the match with a busted back now he’s dealing with more spinal issues.
Scoops rolls away, gasping for oxygen in the center of the ring.
Then Graves sits up, eyes wide, jaw clenched.
JR: I don't know how Scoops is still conscious. But Graves is furious, man. Look at his eyes. He is a scary dude.
Breathing? Overrated. Graves doesn't give him a second to suck wind. He slips right under the bottom rope, snatches Scoops by both ankles, and just yanks. Hard. The veteran plummets off the apron. A nasty, sickening thud rings out as meat and bone collide with the solid Cathedral stone.
JC: He pulls him right off the apron! No padding out there! No forgiveness!
JR: That is brutal, man! Just concrete and stone! His back is already mangled from earlier tonight!
The referee begins the count.
ONE!
TWO!
Total panic sets in. Scoops scrambles blind, desperately pawing at the steel barricade just to get his legs under him. Not happening. Graves is right there, grabbing a handful of tights and whatever hair he can find. He hoists the 64 year-old up and simply bulldozes him backward.
CRASH!
The barricade shudders. Scoops arches in agony, screaming out as his already-wrecked lower back eats the cold steel.
THREE!
FOUR!
The official might as well be talking to a wall. Graves ignores the count entirely. Snagging Scoops by the scruff of the neck, he drags him back toward the ring. He lines up the unforgiving edge of the apron frame. Hooks the arms. A quick spin, and he rams the veteran backward.
FIVE!
SIX!
SEVEN!
Whack. Steel bites right into Scoops' vertebrae. The old man just crumples to the stone floor in a heap, legs twitching, gasping for air that isn't there.
EIGHT!
NINE!
Ref at nine? Graves isn't letting this end by count-out. He grabs the waistband of Scoops' trunks and casually tosses the legend under the bottom rope. Graves rolls in. Stands up. The referee waves off the count, but Graves is already turning around, sliding right back out to the floor. He hooks Scoops by the boots and ruthlessly drags him right back out onto the stone.
The clock resets. The torture continues.
“Booooooooooo!”
JC: Despicable! He's manipulating the count just so he can keep punishing that spine!
JR: It's smart, though! He's maximizing the damage without getting disqualified. He is systematically dismantling this guy!
Ugly. Grinding. Methodical. Graves buries the heel of his boot straight into Scoops' instep, following it up with a meat-cleaver of a forearm across the shoulder blades. Having milked the floor for every drop of suffering, he finally shoves the veteran under the bottom rope. Graves slides in right behind him. Time to wrap this up. He grabs the back of the neck, hauling Scoops up for a deadlift.
Trap.
Scoops violently snaps his hips. He hooks the big man's leg, cinching his arms tight around Graves' midsection. An inside cradle out of absolutely nowhere.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Graves explodes out of the pin attempt. Sheer, terrifying power sends Scoops flying across the canvas. They both scramble, boots slipping on the mat to get vertical. Scoops wings a wild, desperate left hook aimed right at the jaw. A complete prayer of a punch.
Graves ducks it. Clean. He snatches Scoops around the waist, hoisting the veteran into the air. He just holds him there. Stalling. Letting the blood rush to the old man's head. And then? Gravity takes over.
A catastrophic Spinebuster. The Cathedral ceiling practically shakes from the impact as Scoops' already pulverized back meets the unforgiving canvas.
JR: Oh my God! He just folded him in half!
Graves hooks both legs. Deep.
ONE…
TWO…
THR—NO!
A twitch. Barely. But it’s enough. Scoops gets his right shoulder up. Maybe half an inch of daylight, but it counts. Graves doesn't even stand up. He just shoots bolt upright on his tailbone. The dried green paint on his forehead literally cracks as he grinds his teeth together. He glares at the ref. Absolute murder in his eyes.
JC: I cannot believe Scoops McGee kicked out of that Spinebuster!
Seething doesn't even begin to cover it. Graves charges. Scoops is practically dragging himself up by the top rope, but he meets the rush head-on.
Smack. A desperation left forearm. Stiff. Right on the button. Graves actually stumbles, eyes blinking hard to clear the cobwebs. Scoops sees the opening and unloads. Another left. A heavy right. Chopping the big man down one piece of meat at a time.
JR: Those lefts are no joke, man! Scoops is rocking him!
Graves is reeling. Backed tight against the ropes, nowhere to go. Scoops steps in to deliver the absolute kill shot.
Graves dips his chin. And then? The whip back.
A thick, blinding spray of Yellow Poison Mist spews straight from his lips.
Scoops falls. Right to his knees. The toxic cloud sails cleanly over his head—and catches the referee dead in the eyes.
JC: Mist! Graves went for the mist—but he hit the official!
The ref gasps, hands violently clawing at his face. Then the paralysis takes over. His whole body just locks up. Rigor mortis, but the guy is still breathing. He tips straight backward, stiff as a statue, smacking the mat with a sickening thud. Nothing moves. Not a single muscle.
Scoops takes one look at the frozen zebra, then slowly turns his attention back to Graves.
No ref. No rules. Total anarchy.
JR: Whoa! The ref is completely stiff! He's paralyzed, man!
The old man bails out under the bottom rope. He digs blindly under the steel ringside barricade and finally drags out his equalizer.
JC: Scoops is reaching under the barrier... oh no. Is that barbed wire?
A thick, rusted-to-hell spool of razor-sharp barbs. The Cathedral absolutely loses its collective mind.
“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
JR: The ref is down, man, there's nobody to enforce the rules!
Graves rolls out to the floor, shaking the cobwebs. He turns around.
Scoops lashes out with the wire! Tearing right across the champion's chest, slicing through skin and muscle.
Blood immediately beads on the surface. Graves roars in agony. Scoops wraps the wire around his fist and drives it directly into the open wound on Graves' forehead. The match devolves into unsanctioned violence.
Scoops forces Graves back against the unyielding stone pillars of the Cathedral. He grinds the barbed wire into the champion's eyes. Graves swings blindly, landing a heavy clubbing blow to Scoops' injured lumbar. The veteran drops to one knee, his face contorting in pain. He breathes heavily, his stamina rapidly depleting.
JR: When you have a bad back like that, all it takes is one shot at the right spot. Graves hits that, and Scoops is going down but look at them. Both men are running on fumes right now.
Graves rips a steel chair from the timekeeper's area. He swings it down like an executioner's axe. Scoops rolls across the harsh stone, and the chair sparks against the Cathedral floor. Scoops sweeps the legs, and Graves goes down hard. They are two bleeding, exhausted animals rolling on the concrete, tearing at each other with no referee to stop them and no official to count a pin.
The stone floor has taken everything out of them both. They are practically crawling. Scoops McGee pushes forward on sixty-four years of grit and a terrifying pain tolerance. He drags himself up the steel steps, his stamina completely gone. Graves follows, the powerhouse sliding under the bottom rope.
Graves doesn't stop. He grabs the exhausted veteran by the hair, dragging him toward the corner and forcing Scoops up the turnbuckles. Hauling him up the ropes, Graves climbs to the middle rope. He hooks Scoops, setting up for the end.
JC: Graves has him on the middle rope. He's hooking him for the CRADLE 2 THE GRAVE!
JR: He might end more than this match. He might end Scoops’ career.
They launch backward into the abyss, but Scoops shifts. He wildly throws his body weight forward mid-air, breaking the rotation. Scoops crashes down directly on top of Graves' chest in a desperate lateral press.
JC: Scoops shifts his weight! He countered it in mid-air!
JR: Cover him!
ONE…
Graves violently shoves upward, executing a bench press that sends Scoops reeling through the air before all 198 lbs crashes into the canvas. The brutish powerhouse sits up. His head turns, eyes searching for Scoops. The old man has skidded halfway across the ring but is fighting pain and father time to stand.
Both men stagger upright, lungs burning and legs shaking. Graves strikes first with a vicious kick directly to the compromised gut. He yanks Scoops forward, trapping his head between his thighs in a standing headscissors. Graves hooks the arms and hoists Scoops high into the air.
JC: Graves hooks the arms! He's got him hoisted high for GRAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!
JR: It's over! He's gonna end Scoops!
At the apex, the old timer thrashes, kicking and bucking and squirreling to escape the crucifix position. He drops to his uneasy feet. The champion spins around furious but Scoops doesn’t hesitate. A blatant, desperate poke directly to the eye stuns Graves. He recoils, momentarily blinded.
JC: Scoops slips out! And a thumb right to the eye!
JR: Veteran tactics! You gotta do whatever it takes to survive in a war like this!
Scoops hooks him and lifts the giant, adrenaline overriding his failing muscles.
THE BIG SCOOP (Scoop Slam Piledriver)!!!!
JC: Scoops hooks the head... He hit it! He hit the Big Scoop on the monster!
JR: He spiked the champion! But the referee is still paralyzed!
Graves' skull spikes into the mat. Scoops collapses on top of him and hooks the leg. The crowd counts!
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Across the ring, the paralyzed referee twitches. The yellow mist is wearing off. He blinks and drags his body across the blood-stained canvas hand over hand. He reaches the tangle of bodies. His hand rises and strikes the mat.
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
WINNER, NEW XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION, AND KIIIIIIIIIIING OF THE XWF 2026: SCOOOOOOOOOOOOOPS MCGEE!
DING! DING! DING!
JC: He did it! Scoops McGee has done the impossible!
JR: Look at the emotion, man! Sixty-four years old, a broken back, and he just survived a monster!
JC: He didn’t just survive, Joe. He came, he saw, and he conquered! Sebastian Everett-Bryce, Yelena Gorgo, Matthias Syn, Dickie Watson, and now Michael Graves. Scoops had to go through all of them to reach this moment. The Mountaintop has a new King and his name is Scoops McGee!
The arena explodes into an absolute roar. Scoops rolls off Graves, staring blindly at the Cathedral ceiling. He clutches his lower spine, his chest heaving, his face a mask of exhaustion and disbelief. Graves remains completely unconscious, folded on the canvas.
The referee slowly retrieves the Universal Championship, dragging himself over to the veteran. He slides the massive gold and leather belt across Scoops' chest and weakly raises his trembling arm.
JR: He's holding that belt to his chest like his life depends on it! What an absolutely beautiful moment!
A sudden, deafening blast echoes through the Lost Cathedral. Cannons erupt from the rafters, sending thousands of pieces of gold and black confetti raining down over the blood-stained canvas. The crowd noise reaches a fever pitch, physically shaking the stone walls.
“You Deserve It! You Deserve It!”
Scoops McGee slowly forces himself up to his knees, fighting through the agonizing pain in his lumbar. His face is battered, covered in sweat and smeared with Graves' blood, but he refuses to let go of the championship. He looks up at the falling confetti, tears welling in his eyes as the reality sets in. He pulls the Universal Championship to his face and kisses the center plate. He is the new King of XWF.
JR: I've got goosebumps, JC. What a war. What an absolute war. We just witnessed history tonight. The ultimate underdog story.
JC: A performance built on grit, heart, and an unbreakable will! For Joe Rogan, I am JC, thanking you for joining us on this unforgettable night! The King has been crowned! Goodnight from the Lost Cathedral!
Scoops raises the Universal Championship high into the air with a shaking left arm as the confetti continues to bury the ring.
Fade to bl-
JR: What a night we’ve had here tonight - a brand new King in XWF and a (new/retaining) Universal Champion!
JC: March Madness has been a night to remember… We’ll see you all… Wait, what’s this?
The lights in the arena go out, with Scoops McGee still in the ring celebrating. The cheers of the crowd dull for a few moments before…
The crowd pops as a spotlight drops firstly in the ring, upon the Champion, and then a second on the stage to the 24/7 briefcase.
JR: Oh my god… OH MY GOD!
JC: Are we about to have a Cash-In!?
The first pop starts to die down
Na, na, na, na…
The screen flashes with the words Welcome to the Empire. And the pop hits again as Sebastian Everett-Bryce steps into the spotlight, a smirk upon his face. But he’s not dressed for competition - instead, he’s wearing chinos, a shirt and a jacket.
He reaches down, and picks up the briefcase as Scoops watches from the ring ready for whatever may come next.
Seb taps the briefcase, and then with a simple gesture, raises one single finger. At first, it seems to be an indication of the Number One… But instead, it turns out… He’s pointing to the Tron.
LEAP OF FAITH
MAY 31ST 2026
Everett-Bryce raises the 24/7 briefcase into the air, points at himself, and then at the XWF Universal Champion in the ring, and then one more time up to the screen.
JC: I think… I think Seb just declared himself the Number One contender to the Universal Championship!
JR: And he’s going to cash in at the very same event he won the briefcase last year!
JC: What a way to end our show! A new King! And a new Number One Contender! Thank you for joining us tonight!
The broadcast comes to an end with both Seb and Scoops mouthing threats at one another as we fade…
To…
Black.
THANKS TO…
Our Match Writers
Yelena Gorgo
Samael Dyson
Asher Hayes
‘Bashmaster’ Barry Masterson
Atticus Gold
Liam Desmond
‘Big’ Dick Lichter
Peter Principle
ELO
Our Segment Writers
KENTUCKY
ELO
The LooksMaxxers
Yelena Gorgo
Samael Dyson
Sebastian Everett-Bryce
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