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(Gravy_Xtreme_5000) · **01-12-2026, 03:59 PM**

The camera finds Graves deep in the bowels of the arena still dragging Clutch’s deadweight by her feet when he suddenly loses his footing and slips.

WHAM!

His skull kisses a heavy broiler pipe and he stumbles backwards, crashing onto Jenny Myst, who was stretched out on a folding chair in the broiler room napping.

A ref comes flying in from nowhere!

1!

2!!

Will Graves be crowned the next Xtreme Champion and ruin a whole Pay-Per-View angle?

Will he catch a previously unknown STD from Jenny Myst?

Will she catch one from him?!?!

Tune in next time———in just 12 hours———to find out!

YourHighnessofViolence · **01-12-2026, 07:45 PM**

The camera finds Michael Graves—known on the 24/7 board as Gravy—deep in the bowels of the arena. Steam rolls off exposed pipes. The floor is slick with condensation. This is not a place meant for champions.

Graves is dragging Clutch by the feet, Clutch completely limp, boots scraping across concrete as if he’s been unplugged.

Graves steps forward—

His footing gives way.

WHAM.

His head collides with a thick broiler pipe, the impact echoing through the corridor. His body stumbles backward, uncontrolled—

—and CRASHES straight onto Jenny Myst.

Jenny Two Belts (WGWF X-Division Champion and XWF X-Treme Champion, yes the ONLY RECOGNIZED X-TREME CHAMPION, cry about it)—is stretched out on a folding chair in the broiler room, mid-nap. Sunglasses half on. One arm draped over her midsection. A champion catching five minutes wherever she can.

The chair folds instantly.

Metal shrieks.

Jenny’s head snaps up as Graves lands across her.

A referee comes sprinting into frame from nowhere, dropping to his knees with the urgency of someone who understands the implications.

ONE!

Jenny’s eyes go wide in disbelief.

TWO!!

Commentary (off-screen, panicked):

“NO—NOT LIKE THIS—”

“THIS CAN’T HAPPEN HERE—”

“THE PAY-PER-VIEW—”

The ref’s hand hovers—

Jenny VIOLENTLY KICKS OUT, launching Graves off her and rolling to her side as steam hisses overhead.

Jenny sits up slowly, fury replacing sleep, hair wild, sunglasses gone. She clutches both championships to her chest and stares at the referee like she might commit a felony.

Jenny:

“Absolutely not.”

She gets to her feet, steadying herself against the pipe.

Jenny:

“You do not accidentally end my reign in a boiler room.”

She looks down at Graves, still down, still motionless.

Jenny:

“I don’t care who you are, what you’re carrying, or what you’ve been dragging—”

She backs away, belts tight against her ribs.

Jenny:

“Find a shower. Find a doctor. And stay far away from me.”

The referee checks Graves. Clutch hasn’t moved.

Jenny disappears down the corridor, still barking over her shoulder.

Jenny (off-camera):

“Twelve hours. I’ll be ready.”

Lower-third graphic slams onto the screen:

KICKOUT AT TWO.

24/7 X-TREME TITLE SURVIVES.

NEXT OPPORTUNITY: 12 HOURS.

Steam fills the frame.

Fade out.

Dr. Holly Cambric · **01-12-2026, 10:14 PM**

Stepping out from a nook in the boiler room comes former XWF Tag and X-Treme Champion Dr. Holly Cambric. Per usual, she's clad in a long white lab coat and sports her long red hair in a tight, professional bun. Some might question why she did not try to break up the pin, since Jenny is part of Charlie's crew, like she is. Others might question why she was in the boiler room observing Jenny Myst sleeping in the first place.

One thing nobody will be able to question is what happens next.

*SHINK!*

The flash of a needle. Sludge red contents plunge into the nape of Graves's neck. In an instant, his body convulses and then freezes in a paralyzed state. Nobody has to tell the referee twice, because he bolts away like Speedy Gonzales.

Peter "PG" Principle, being the mighty omnipresent GM he is, rolls into the frame having been touring the boiler room for god knows what reason. The wheelchair bound power-suit wags a ream of paperwork. Rules. Lots of them. All about the coveted X-Treme title.

"NO, Holly! NO! NOOOOOOO! Noo! No! No! NOOOOO!" He rams his wheelchair against her leg. "You cannot interject here, Holly!"

"Understood, sir." She replies. "I won't interject here. I'll interject there."

Peter looks around, flummoxed by the location she speaks. "Down there? Where's there?"

In an uncharacteristic show of personality, Holly does the DX crotch shop. "Down there... suck it!"

He grumbles stuff at her. She push-kicks him away, making him disappear harmlessly into the steam and darkness of the corridor.

With him gone, she analyzes the scene on the floor. Clutch and Graves. Holly fishes her cellphone and reaches Charlie. " Mr. Nickles, I got a 'two-for', Graves and Clutch. Want me to bring them back to the lab and try to perfect what I attempted to do with Frances Marigold?" She nods along to the answers on the other end. "Yes sir. Roger that. Will do. Yes sir. I will try to fuse them into one super being. On it, sir."

She hangs up and retrieves a syringe filled with glowing green stuff. Holly injects the contents into her body and belts a primal Herculesian roar. Using strength that should absolutely not be allowed under the laws of physics, she EASILY heaves Graves and Clutch onto her shoulders in a fireman's carry position, then exits the frame.

A few moments later, Peter can be seen furiously wheeling his wheelchair in the same direction Holly left with her two new captured test subjects.

YourHighnessofViolence · **Yesterday, 09:13 AM**

Kicks out?

(Gravy_Xtreme_5000) · **Yesterday, 03:18 PM**

Pin?

(Gravy_Xtreme_5000) · **Yesterday, 03:33 PM**

Gravy shifts.

Not much, just enough that you know he's awake.

Suddenly!

POP!

Gravy with a finger up the ass!

Whats-her-name (Gravy ain't met this bitch yet, give me a break!) yelps out in shock, horror, pleasure? Who the fuck knows with this nutjob!?

Her grip slips and Graves thumps onto the floor with his mushy new friend.

Graves jumps to his feet and grabs Clutch by the ankle before making his escape.

very

slooooooooooooooooooooooowly

What's-her-bitch is almost up, and she looks pissed.

Graves looks at her, then to Clutch.

"Sorry babe, I had big plans for us. You know, I am something of an amature necomancer...

or was it necrophiliac? Either way kindaCarver had it right—you're dead weight!"

Gravy releases his grip and throws a smoke bomb, vanishing into the purple fumes.